The shiny incandescent light on the ground shone on the dense smoke, as if a snow-white blanket was laid on the town. Looking down from above, the British bomber was as conspicuous as a fly parked on a white sheet...

German fighters selected their respective targets effortlessly and dived from a high altitude. The British bomber machine gun shooters only fired two or three rounds back and were flashed into their eyes by the muzzle of their machine guns. At this time, there was only a ball of light and shadow in front of them, and they could not see anything else, so they could only shoot randomly at the night sky blindly.

The German pilot easily put these powerless targets into the shooting halo, and the fire whip passed by, and the British bomber sprayed flames, rolling and falling like flies.

Some lucky guys rushed out of the landline, but more people did not get a chance to escape, and the pilots could only scream at the radio. Whether it was the ugly Hamptons or the solid Wellington, they all turned into smoke dissipated in the wind, or fell to the ground and turned into a ball of hot fire, or fell into the sea to stir up the sky.

"Catch the live ones, catch the live ones!" Wallace excitedly ran in front of the team. He carried the sword in his hand on his shoulders and cheered his subordinates loudly.

"After tonight, the guys in the camp will envy us to death. They will say, you are such a group of lucky guys who have caught German prisoners on the first time they went to the battlefield. Maybe they will give you medals, and of course my medals must be bigger than you. Why? Because I am your commander. Maybe I will upgrade to the military rank, and maybe you will call me the company commander by the end of the year."

"There is a guy over there who is about to land. Everyone keeps some gods. Remember the landing points of those bastards. There are bushes everywhere here, don't let them hide." Cusmo ran at the right wing of the team with a Thomson submachine gun.

"Hey, look, our fighter jets finally appeared. I thought they all dared to hide behind anti-aircraft guns in London." A soldier said with a smile. The fighter jet unit of the British Royal Air Force has become synonymous with cowards. But this can only be joked in private. Anyone who publicly promotes similar remarks in the army will be immediately sent to the military court, so the soldier was immediately scolded by Cusmo.

"Don't talk nonsense here. They're good at fighting. If I hear you say such strange things, you can go to the kitchen to cook potatoes for the last week. Don't say I haven't reminded you."

"I know, Sergeant Master. I just want to liven up the atmosphere. I promise not to commit it again in the future." The soldier also knew that he was a little unspeakable and quickly lowered his head to admit his mistake.

"Look, there is a unit over there who is also capturing the parachuting pilot." A vanguard raised his rifle and pointed forward. Under the shining sky, the wasteland in the distance was light and dark. You could vaguely see a group of black shadows like Wallace, lined up with sparse scattered soldiers and encircled a pilot who had already landed.

"Hey? Shooting!" Cusmo looked at the black shadows in the distance in confusion, and suddenly saw a few flashes of fire, followed by crisp gunfire. The pilot was obviously not ready to surrender. He had a fierce exchange of fire with the captured infantry.

While firing around with his pistol, the pilot ran wildly towards the woods on one side. But he couldn't run far. The infantry fired at him in a salvo. The pilot fell down. Several infantry surrounded him and looked at the fallen pilot. Then the two infantry helped him up and put him on their shoulders, and began to turn around and evacuate to the rear.

"It seems that it is St. Margaret's garrison, and they have also come out to capture prisoners." Wallace loudly urged his subordinates.

"Get quicker, don't let those people capture the captives. Although these are their results, since we are on the scene, of course we should also have a share." The Scots were about to start to be unreasonable, after all, military achievements were rare. We would never give in at all.

"Hey, a guy has landed on the ground there." A soldier shouted loudly. Just less than ten meters away from Wallace and the others, a parachute fell down. The pilot was in a dizzy position. He rolled on the ground twice before finally stabilizing his posture.

The pilot seemed to be ignoring the infantry running towards him, and he stood up and dragged the parachute behind him vigorously.

"Don't move! German guy. Raise your hands!" Wallace shouted loudly at the pilot.

"Don't stand stupidly, come and help the top leader." The pilot turned his head and looked at the Scottish infantry with a rifle in half a circle. He complained loudly in anger.

"Damn it! Are you British?" Cusmo heard the other party's accent at once, and then looked closely in the light. Isn't that uniform and outfit just a Royal Air Force?

"You are a fighter pilot, you are doing well and have shot so many German bombers." At Cusmo's gesture, several soldiers came forward to help the pilot pack up the parachute.

"Are you all fools? Those fighters are all Germans. The Germans have landed on that beach. My squadron is here to bomb these Germans. How come you don't know? By the way, which unit you are, why are you here? Haven't you met Germans?" The pilot felt a little incredible about the appearance of the British ground troops here. Before taking off, he was told that there were no British ground troops within ten kilometers of the surrounding area except the Dover area. The pilot began to become alert, and his hand slowly moved to the pistol holster at his waist.

"We are from the Royal Scottish Highlands. We were ordered to go to the Sartford farm, but we got lost here. We were just resting in the farm there and just saw the battle here. Wait, you said the Germans have landed, and there is a German guy under the light?" Wallace finally reacted, and he was stunned by the news that the other party told him.

"You are actually stationed less than a mile from the German beachhead. I really don't know what to evaluate it." The pilot was also incredible about this fact. This fact was too strange and he didn't know what to react for a while.

"No, since the positions over there are all Germans, then the ones in front are..." Cusmo suddenly exclaimed, pointing to the group of infantry still storming the parachuting personnel in the distance.

"I suggest retreating immediately. They have more people than you. When the army's large forces will surround it until dawn, so there is no need to confront them head-on." The pilot threw away his flight headsets and took off his life jacket. He exposed the captain's rank on his uniform.

"I am Captain Reidick of the Forty-sixth Bomber Squadron. I am very happy to meet you here. I will testify for you. You bravely saved me in the German search."

"Wallace, the second platoon leader of the 2nd Company, the 1st Battalion of the Scottish Highland Regiment, is very happy to know you Captain." Wallace pulled out his sword from the soil beside him.

"I'm very sorry, it seems that it's too late for us to retreat now. The Germans are already here." Wallace took out his pistol and pulled out the hammer.

"Captain, I suggest you fight with us for your own lives now, and there is another unit that has been surrounded from the flanks. We can only have the hope of successfully retreating only if we break through the frontal enemies and defeat one of them."

"Oh, God, I knew you Scots would go crazy when you went to the battlefield." Captain Rydick helped to pull out his Browning pistol from his holster.

"You haven't seen a really crazy Scotsman yet." Cusmo walked to the pilot, took out a grenade from his pocket and handed it to the other party.

"Okay, gentlemen, I'm glad to be able to serve with you. This is our first battle, and perhaps our last battle. Let's move forward bravely and let the Germans see the spirit of Scottish men! Scots, move forward!" Wallace raised his sword high and then rushed towards the German infantry who were slowly approaching.

"Roar!" The infantry raised their bayonets and followed their platoon leader to charge towards the enemy.

What was approaching was a German paratrooper unit. When they were arresting the first pilot, they had already noticed the Scottish infantry platoon here. When Wallace and the others joined forces with Rydick, they attracted the attention of these paratroopers because the exchanges between the two sides were very harmonious and there was no conflict at all. The happy scene made the paratroopers feel very frustrated. Why did they turn to tear and bite and take out pistols and shoot randomly? Could it be that this is really related to personal qualities as the female flight corps captain said?

The paratrooper company commander decided to go forward and find out. In fact, they were not sure whether the group of people opposite were friends or enemies. So according to the battlefield regulations, a paratrooper platoon was divided into two sides to encircle the opponent, and the command platoon began to approach from the front, and the remaining platoon continued to search for enemy parachuting personnel.

The flares and explosion flashes in the air shine the ground lightly and darkly, seriously interfering with the human eye's identification of objects in the field of vision. The German paratroopers vaguely saw that the other party should be wearing a skirt, so the paratroopers began to think about whether there were any female soldiers in the landing force this time.

Before the paratroopers could come up with a slut, the group of guys in skirts roared and rushed towards him. They found that the other party was actually a man, which immediately scared the paratroopers to the point of being in chaos.

In the dark and dark wilderness, I met a strong man who was screaming and yelling at you with a rifle. It could only be considered an ordinary action movie at most. If the strong man was still wearing a skirt, the scene would turn into a horror thriller. OK?

"It's the Scottish infantry! They are British! Attack! Attack!" There are also many knowledgeable guys among the paratroopers, such as the paratrooper company commander in the first platoon. He is now ashamed of being scared to take two steps back just now. In anger, the paratrooper lieutenant roared and greeted the Scottish infantry with a pistol.

Because the Scots rushed too quickly, the paratroopers were caught off guard at the time, and the Scottish infantry rushed into the paratroopers' ranks. The two sides immediately fought together. The soldiers on both sides held weapons and shot each other within a distance of a car, causing very terrible casualties within a few seconds. More than a dozen German paratroopers were stabbed by Scottish guns and knives and turned to the ground. Similar numbers of soldiers on the Scots also lost their combat capabilities by being hit by German submachine guns and rifles.

Before the Scottish machine gunner could fire two bullets, a German infantry shot the head. Both sides were stalked in one place, and the German machine gunner retreated to the rear as soon as possible. At this time, no one dared to throw grenades and grenades into the crowd. The scene became a world of light weapons and cold weapons.

In contrast, the number of Germans has an absolute advantage. This kind of attrition war of one to one is actually very unfavorable to the Scots. After the first round of fighting, neither side had time to reload the bullets, and the battle immediately entered a bloody hand-to-hand combat stage.

Wallace waved his family sword with one hand, and quickly fired six bullets from the German paratroopers with his other hand. Then, he inserted the pistol back into the holster, swung the sword with both hands and slashed at a paratrooper.

The paratrooper was so scared that he was so scared that he was so scared that he was so scared that he could not help but raise his submachine gun to resist the other party's slash.

A crisp metallic impact sounded, and the slashing sword that slashed on the German submachine gun's receiver bounced high. The steel blade left an indelible mark on the submachine gun. The heavy slashing made the German paratrooper lose balance and could only kneel to the ground with one leg. Seeing the tall enemy swung the big sword again, the second slash was about to fall. The paratrooper began to pray in his heart, knowing that he might not be able to handle the attack.

At this time, the paratrooper felt a huge force hit his shoulder. He had lost his balance and immediately rolled out to the side. At this time, Wallace had already accumulated strength, and the long Scottish Sword slashed down like a thunder. A louder metal impact sounded, and the Sword was blocked again, drew a beautiful half arc and pointed straight into the night sky.

Wallace felt the huge power coming from his arm, and he couldn't help but take a step back, holding hands in his hands and slashing the sword flat on his chest, and pointing the sword tip straight to his new opponent.

"Lt. Wolf von Clawson, Hessian." The paratrooper lieutenant spread his legs and raised one and a half sword in his hand high, then lowered it to his chest, raised his sword blade, and gave Wallace a swordsman salute.

"British Army Lieutenant Kevin Wallace, Scots." Wallace took back the sword and returned a swordsman's salute.

Both sides had forgotten the battles going on around them, and they only had the opponent in front of them. At this time, the Scottish infantry had been killed and killed. Some German paratroopers began to clean up the battlefield to rescue the wounded and capture the prisoners. The rest of the paratroopers carried weapons and formed a circle around the two soldiers. Everyone held their breath and focused their attention and watched the sacred duel.

With two violent roars, the two swords collided again. (To be continued.)
Chapter completed!