Cannon Fire Arc

Originally, Drachenko’s squadron hadn’t noticed the artillery positions on the ground.

Yes, they had been given photographs before takeoff, and everyone had looked at them many times, but these photos were taken from above, and the squadron was preoccupied with looking directly downward, so they completely missed that the target was right ahead.

As a result, the moment the ground forces opened fire, a pilot immediately noticed: “There’s something firing from the ground ahead!”

Drachenko quickly adjusted his wings, tilting the aircraft to the side, then looked toward the front and below. Sure enough, he saw the smoke from the firing. He judged by experience that it was anti-aircraft artillery.

“Anti-aircraft guns are firing, follow my maneuvers!”

He gently pulled the joystick, starting a left bank turn, and at the same time, he stepped on the rudder to correct for the shift caused by the plane’s circling.

The other planes of the Fourth Fighter-Bomber Squadron hurriedly followed Drachenko’s maneuvers, and the formation shifted like a flock of geese in the sky.

Seconds later, the anti-aircraft shells flew up, detonated by timed fuses, exploding into clusters of black smoke in the air.

However, the area where the shells exploded was far from where the squadron now was.

“The enemy will be adjusting their aim, follow my maneuvers. Full throttle, maintain speed.”

Making such maneuvers would definitely reduce speed, which was the case for most planes of the era, so pushing the throttle to maximum was to lose as little speed as possible, preserving the plane’s energy.

After issuing the order, the deputy squadron leader called out, “We’re all over-loaded, and the engines alone can’t recover the lost energy. We’re almost over the enemy now, dodge another barrage and then dive!”

Drachenko estimated the distance and agreed, “Good! Dodge another salvo of anti-aircraft fire, then dive.”

Having said that, he again juggled the joystick and pressed the rudder. While maneuvering, he glanced at the instrument panel.

The speedometer was nearing the danger zone, but since the plane was at a high altitude, the actual speed would be greater than what the gauge showed, so it should be fine.

But another maneuver would not work; the plane was carrying too many bombs, and this severely affected its flight performance.

However, Drachenko consoled himself that this was already much better than an Il-2. If he were flying an Il-2, he would have had to force his way through the enemy’s anti-aircraft fire, relying on armor to withstand it.

“Drachenko!” his wingman called, “It’s about time to recover our position!”

Drachenko realized he had become distracted and quickly pulled the joystick: “Keep up with me, up!”

His plane rolled in response, entering a dive, and during the dive, it gradually shifted from a nose-down position to level out.

The flash of the ground anti-aircraft fire indicated the target, and Drachenko aimed at the anti-aircraft position, soon spotting the artillery positions next to it that had not been camouflaged in time.

“Artillery positions! The enemy has no small-caliber anti-aircraft guns, lower the bombing altitude!”

By then, the enemy’s large-caliber anti-aircraft guns fired again, but because there was no time to adjust the timing fuses, all the shells exploded far behind the diving squadron, high in the air.

Drachenko even saw Prosen soldiers hastily adjusting the shell fuses, endlessly twisting something like a clockwork mechanism on the shells.

How he wanted to bomb those anti-aircraft positions!

With this thought, Drachenko pressed the rudder, causing the plane to drift to the side, the machine gun aiming device pointing directly at the enemy’s anti-aircraft position.

It was an experience gleaned from many bombing runs; using the machine gun sight to assist targeting meant that by aiming just a bit higher, the hit rate was trustworthy.

This time, Drachenko’s target was the ammunition truck next to the enemy’s gun position, and from his experience, it should explode right on target.

However, the timing of the dive was tight and the angle of the dive was probably not as steep as before, which meant greater error. He hoped the explosive power would compensate for that.

Feeling the altitude was about right, Drachenko dropped the bombs and then pulled up the plane.

The violent motion of pulling up sent the blood rushing to his feet, darkening his entire field of view and dimming even the sky.

Drachenko, relying on his experience, let the joystick return to position.

As his vision recovered, he checked the altimeter and confirmed that the plane had already reached an altitude of two thousand meters and was still climbing, while the speed indicator plummeted rapidly.

He adjusted the propeller pitch and called out over the radio, “Did anyone fail to pull up?”

At that moment, the explosion on the ground illuminated the rearview mirror of Drachenko’s cockpit.

He couldn’t help but turn to look at the ground situation, but the rear view of the P47 was not good. Sёarᴄh the ηovёlFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Someone shouted over the radio, “Commander, we made a big hit! Someone must’ve ignited the enemy’s ammunition!”

Then, the light from the second explosion illuminated the rearview mirror.

Drachenko banked the plane to the left, turning the climb into a left-hand spiral to gain a view of below.

The ground had turned into a sea of fire, with Prussians fleeing in all directions.

Suddenly, Drachenko spotted a truck escaping from the blast, clearly also loaded with ammunition, as the driver struggled to avoid the impact.

“Everyone, destruction of the enemy is not yet sufficient, break formation, free strafing of those fleeing trucks! This is the Fourth Combat Red Bomber Squadron, does anyone hear my call? Yak-Yak, we are strafing enemy vehicles, we need Yak cover!”

As he called, Drachenko once again put the plane into a dive, aiming for that fleeing ammunition truck.

He lined up the truck in the sights and pressed the fire button.

The eight heavy machine guns unleashed a fierce barrage, quickly catching up with the truck. The ammunition belt supplied by the Federation included armor-piercing shells and incendiary bombs, which immediately set the truck ablaze.

The driver, sensing trouble, pushed open the door and bailed out, and then the burning truck surged forward until it finally exploded into a fireball.

Delachenko was satisfied as he pulled up the plane.

At that moment, a garbled response came through the static on the radio: “Where are you guys…”

Delachenko: “Just head towards the biggest fire on the ground, Davarish!”

He regained some altitude, then flew level to build up speed, while also turning his head to observe the ground.

The fighters from the 4th Combat Bomber Group were strafing everywhere, and their eight machine guns were extraordinarily effective against soft targets like trucks and infantry.

Even half-track vehicles with a bit of armor couldn’t withstand the firing of the 12.7mm machine guns.

Over the radio, a pilot from the 4th Group shouted: “Now we are heroes of ground combat too!”

While Delachenko and his wingman continued a shallow climb to gain altitude and speed because he felt that, given the Prussian’s level of coordination, the Ploson Air Force would show up soon.

In a low-altitude, low-speed situation, a P47 couldn’t beat a BF109.

If the 109s really did come, he could only rely on himself and his wingman to drive them away.

Suddenly, Delachenko saw a reflection on the cockpit canopy.

It was eight 109s!

“Everyone! 109s are here! Prepare for defensive maneuvers!”

As he spoke, Delachenko once again went into a dive, charging at the 109s.

The 109s, focusing entirely on the low-flying P47s, had not noticed the high-altitude attack.

In the blink of an eye, two 109s were turned into fireballs, and the rest scattered in retreat.

“Pull up, pull up! Just disrupt the enemy’s first wave of attacks!” Delachenko, while pulling up himself, shouted to his wingman, “Don’t follow the enemy’s maneuvers, don’t follow! Pull up and disengage! We’ve already played our part in protecting our allies!”

“Leave the rest to us!” Along with the shout over the radio, a Yak-1 streaked past the climbing P47s on their right.

The liquid-cooled engines of the Yak were on afterburner, and each exhaust stack was spitting sparks.

In the blink of an eye, Delachenko saw a row of red stars painted next to the cockpit of the Yak.

The two climbing P47s simply passed through the group of Yaks charging towards the enemy.

Delachenko pressed the radio microphone and shouted: “The Yaks are here, watch out, the Yaks are here! They are all cigar-shaped liquid-cooled planes, do not fire on them by mistake, do not fire on them by mistake! Enemy planes have yellow nose cones, enemy planes have yellow nose cones! Our targets are still the soft targets on the ground, our targets are still the soft targets on the ground!”

“Understood!” Someone shouted over the radio, “Our goal is to become heroes of ground combat!”

————

Lieutenant Colonel Hank, the commander of the Prosen artillery battalion, lay on the ground, watching the battle unfolding in the skies above.

There were clearly more enemy planes than the Prosen Air Force.

Warplanes with slender fuselages, similar to the 109s, were entangling with them, while those “fat” planes, resembling flying milk bottles, were “licking the ground.”

Apparently, the enemy’s fighters were called Yaks and had weaker firepower, not suitable for ground attacks. But the “fatties” had numerous machine guns, and when they opened fire, it was as if two swords of light sprang from their wings, cutting across the ground, leaving death or injury in their wake.

The ground had become a sea of fire, with vehicles and half-tracks getting hit everywhere.

Luckily, it had rained lightly that morning, and the grass was damp; otherwise, a large grassland fire would have been hard to handle.

Lieutenant Colonel Hank lay flat on the ground, not daring to move for fear of becoming a target for the enemy planes. He had no confidence in surviving such intense strafing.

————

“What?” the staff officer at the headquarters of the 10th Army Group asked loudly, “Speak up! What got bombed? Artillery positions? What’s the Air Force doing?”

General Boke snatched the phone: “Where’s the attack?”

The person on the phone responded, “Our division—the 190th Division’s artillery positions, we’ve now lost almost all of our shells, and half of our guns.”

General Boke: “You’ll get resupplied. How about the anti-aircraft positions?”

“The anti-aircraft artillery can’t deal with the enemy’s new bombers; we set up the anti-aircraft guns according to standards for dealing with the enemy’s twin-engine tactical bombers. The small-caliber guns are protecting the front-line troops against Il-2s. But we haven’t seen any Il-2s, just new dive-bombers.”

“Understood.” Boke hung up the phone, but immediately picked it up again, “Connect me to the Air Force. Is that General Kylet? The Ant Air Force just bombed my artillery positions, I demand that you immediately bomb the Ante People’s artillery positions!”

General Kylet: “We’ve already bombed the Ante People’s artillery positions, and by the way, bombed Rocossov’s headquarters. Air reconnaissance indicated the bombing was very effective; Rocossov might already be dead!”

“To hell with that! If Rocossov could be killed that easily, he wouldn’t still be around! I want you to bomb the enemy’s artillery positions again!”

“Alright, alright, I’ll make the arrangements. However, ever since Rocossov arrived at the front, the enemy’s Air Force strength has significantly increased, and some elite air units have been deployed here…”

“What are you trying to say?” Boke demanded, “Are you already making excuses for your incompetence?”

“Of course not, I’m just informing you of the situation. We’ll arrange to bomb the enemy’s artillery positions right away.”