I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France-Chapter 821: "Red Devils

Berlin Wilhelm Street General Staff.

Hindenburg, with a lit pipe in his mouth, quietly stared at the map in front of him, the curling smoke rising before his eyes like the flames of war, striving to burn the areas depicted on the map completely.

Ludendorff excitedly stepped forward to report, "Marshal, we succeeded. The British Army staged a large-scale mutiny, with hundreds of thousands of Colonial Army at the forefront refusing to fight."

Hindenburg tried to restrain himself and gently responded, "Hmm," as he removed the pipe and ordered, "Aviation squadron departs."

"Aviation squadron departs!"

"Aviation squadron departs!"

...

The order reached Metz Airport.

The broadcast sounded a piercing screech, and the German Army pilots dashed out of the lounge like firefighters, sprinting into the hangar at full speed, then skillfully climbing into their planes.

Soon, planes were taking to the sky amid the rumbling roar.

...

Nancy defense line airspace.

Major Michael, deputy commander of Britain’s 7th Aviation Squadron, was leading four aircraft on routine patrol.

"Damn this weather," Michael cursed.

The heavy rain constantly blocked visibility, even in the air where it was barely a hundred meters, forcing them to reduce speed to 100 kilometers per hour, or they might accidentally crash into something and meet their demise.

This kind of weather makes patrol unnecessary, Michael thought. It’s almost like nighttime; no one can engage in aerial combat under these conditions.

Michael peered ahead and saw the "Eiffel Water Tower" standing on the ground in the rain curtain. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

It’s the civilian water tower in Trick Town, easily recognizable and standing resiliently like the "Eiffel Tower," earning the nickname "Eiffel Water Tower" from pilots.

Michael raised his hand to signal Captain Smith flying on his left, who responded with a gesture, leading his group to the other side.

This was the patrol requirement: four fighter jets would cover twice the area of two pairs splitting in different directions.

Everything was smooth, Michael thought, time to head back for a shower and a hot cup of coffee.

But at that moment, several planes suddenly burst through the rain curtain into Michael’s sight.

Michael’s first reaction was his own planes.

Those were triplanes.

Currently, only the British aviation corps is equipped with triplanes.

(Above image is the British triplane N500; Germany’s Fokker triplane is a replica of this model, but with superior performance than the N500.)

But the next second Major Michael sensed something was wrong; he noticed these triplanes were all red-painted, which was not the color preferred by British Army aircraft.

Moreover, upon discovering him, instead of slowing down to maneuver, they accelerated to chase him, taking an advantageous attack position from the side rear.

Michael was startled and quickly signaled a warning to his wingman while accelerating for combat preparedness.

The wingman hadn’t responded, turned back to look at those chasing triplanes on the flank, evidently mistaking them like Michael had, even waved to greet the triplanes.

However, gunfire suddenly erupted as the two aircraft intersected.

"Rat-a-tat."

"Rat-a-tat-tat!"

...

The unprepared wingman instantly exploded into splinters, blood splattering everywhere, bursting into blooms of crimson amid the rain.

The pilot slumped his head, leaned against the cockpit, motionless, as the plane lost balance and plunged toward the ground with a sharp whistle.

"God!" Major Michael panicked, and as he maneuvered the aircraft to dodge, he muttered to himself, "I knew it, they’re German planes, their new fighter jets we’ve never encountered!"

Major Michael continued to accelerate.

He knew the Camel fighter’s greatest advantage against the enemy aircraft was speed; whenever danger loomed, accelerating would not go wrong; speed could help the aircraft easily escape enemy pursuit.

But as Major Michael banked at a large angle, he suddenly realized he was wrong.

The red demon chasing behind had already preemptively positioned itself in the shooting angle, waiting for him.

"Rat-a-tat!"

"Rat-a-tat-tat!"

...

Among the few dozen bullets, the fighter’s rudder shattered into powder amid cracking noises.

Michael only felt uncontrollable spinning, spinning, the speed increasing ever faster...

From behind him in the red triplane, Richtofen poked his head out, observing his handiwork with satisfaction.

The British still didn’t know the triplane’s advantage of having a small turn radius, which needed good use.

...

Berlin Wilhelm Street General Staff.

Telephones and telegrams sounded incessantly; the entire office was enveloped in a tense and busy atmosphere, just a slight pull of a string would ignite it.

"Marshal." A officer hurriedly ran over with a telegram, facing Hindenburg who was strategizing with Ludendorff over the map: "We shot down the patrolling British Army aircraft, none escaped."

Hindenburg nodded satisfactorily and ordered, "First Aviation Squadron, action!"

...

The British Army’s aviation base is located at Longuyon.

Longuyon is roughly at the center of the Nancy defense line, where Britain’s 3rd Aviation Squadron can oversee the entire defense line.

Originally, the British aviation corps didn’t need to do this.

The Nancy defense line is a joint defense line between Britain and France, with the west of Longuyon handled by British Army and the east by French Army.

The French Army has Shire’s aviation squadron ensuring airspace security.

But Haig arrogantly believed this airspace doesn’t need Shire’s involvement.

"This can easily cause misunderstanding," Haig said in his report:

"Sometimes in low visibility, we might mistake ally planes for enemy fighter jets."

"Moreover, it’s not conducive to unified command."

"A task initially capable of completion by one aviation squadron now requires two, and from two countries with language barriers, causing coordination difficulties."

So, Shire’s aviation squadron fully withdrew from the Nancy defense line, leaving it to the British Aviation Squadron.

Actually, Haig didn’t want Shire’s aviation squadron to "steal the spotlight" over the Nancy defense line, which might make Colonial Army and even domestic British Army "admire them."

This was not only a matter of face for the British Expeditionary Force but also a safety concern: it might cause division within the British Expeditionary Force.

Colonel Hubert is the aviation squadron commander, responsible for commanding 137 Camel fighters to protect the Nancy defense line airspace.

These are the jet numbers that Britain managed to produce after months of expanding production capacity, now parked on one side of the airport in ranks, covered with waterproof tarpaulins neatly draped over.

"They’re the best." Colonel Hubert stood at the window of the command tower overlooking these jets, speaking with pride, "These jets are capable of destroying all German aircraft, if not for insufficient range, we could even fly them over Berlin!"

"Certainly, Colonel," the officer concurred, "They’re invincible!"