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Volume 2: My Country Chapter 640. Viscount from France

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    !After the outbreak of war, Britain has been isolated from the European continent.  During this period thousands of men and women crossed the German blockade and crossed the Channel to the safety of Britain.  Some people came to escape because, due to race or political ideology, they would be sentenced if caught by the Gestapo; others were dissatisfied young people who had been bullied and were waiting for an opportunity to take revenge. They were preparing to organize resistance in Britain;  Others were RAF personnel and other British military personnel who had stayed at Dunkirk, while still others were agents of German intelligence mixed in with the refugees.

    Where there is a will, there is a way.  People worked hard to come up with various ways and routes to escape and put them into practice immediately.  By the summer of 1940, the Germans had occupied Norway, Denmark, the Netherlands, Belgium, Czechoslovakia, and parts of Poland and France, all of which had patriots who vowed to avenge their national humiliation.

    When you have to fight, there are always risks.  Although precise statistics are not available, MI6's Narris doubts that one in ten people fleeing their home countries reaches the UK.  Little is known about the sacrifices and suffering endured by those nameless men and women.  Leaving family and friends in a foreign country is difficult in peacetime, but the situation is even worse in wartime: people don't know whether they can reach their destination, whether they can overcome the various traps set by the enemy, and whether they can deal with them.  Such a kind nature.

    During World War II, prisoners dug long tunnels, jumped over the barbed wire fences of concentration camps, and even escaped by dressing up in women's clothes.  Inaris thought this was the most absurd method of escape anyone could think of.

    One afternoon, Naris had just returned to the office from the headquarters. An assistant said to Naris anxiously: "You are back. There is something urgent waiting for you."

    "What's the matter again?" Naris asked casually.

    "Two Frenchmen landed in West Sussex."

    "Oh. What's all the fuss about? There are thousands of planes on the European continent!"

    "This one is different," he said with a grimace: "The report says they built the plane themselves!"

    "Maybe they are the Wright brothers. Unfortunately, they are no longer alive, and they are not French. Well, then, you take Naris to see these two brave pilots."

    "They came by car and haven't arrived yet. They will arrive in about an hour."

    After a while, the two people were escorted to Naris's office, and Naris had a brief chat with them.  One is a young man in his twenties, with a thin build, a kind appearance, thick black hair, and the famous Ronaldinho at the time.  Coleman's mustache looks a bit like the movie star's.  When he shook hands with Naris and introduced him, Naris remembered that his name belonged to an ancient French family and he inherited the title of viscount.  The other man was twice as old as him, with brown skin and a very different appearance: short and stout, like a real farmer.  His name was Marcel, and he was the Viscount's car driver. He was respectful to the Viscount and always stood two steps behind the Viscount.  Whenever the Viscount spoke to him, he always lowered his head slightly.

    After asking them to sit down, Naris hesitated for a moment and first asked Marcel, who was behind the viscount, to answer the question.

    After Narris asked him necessary questions such as his name, address, religious beliefs, political thoughts, education, his father's situation, etc., he asked them why they came here.  Of course, only the Viscount was qualified to answer this question, and Marcel listened respectfully from behind.

    He said that his father served in World War I and died in 1936 at a very young age.  He was just coming of age at that time.  His mother had relatives in the United States, so she went to the United States to visit her relatives and stayed there for a long time to ease the grief of losing her husband.  A wealthy Argentinian farmer fell in love with her at first sight and soon proposed to her.  The Viscount knew the pain of his mother's widowhood and encouraged her to remarry.  The mother agreed to the marriage and went to Argentina with her new husband shortly after the marriage in 1938, leaving the properties in Rouen and Paris inherited from her late husband to her only son, the Viscount, to run.

    When the war broke out, he was ordered to serve in the French cavalry unit that was converted into a tank unit.  However, the enthusiastic French were no match for the German blitzkrieg. The German tank divisions under the command of Rommel easily destroyed the French resistance with their high-speed heavy tanks and sophisticated weapons.

    The failure caused chaos. The remnants of the French army fled in all directions and were completely defeated. As the Viscount said with a sarcastic smile, everyone only cared about themselves. It was a veritable "race for their lives".  Depressed by this defeat, he returned home gloomily.

    Although it has been almost 150 years since France became a republic, the Viscount¡¯s hometown still maintains an out-and-out feudal system.  After the German army occupied the area, all villagers and small farmers regarded him as their natural leader and obeyed him.??Arrangements.  The German commander Colugo was very shrewd and tried his best to prevent the viscount's lifestyle from being disturbed. He did not allow any German soldiers to station in his castle or confiscate the products of the manor.  To a certain extent, the viscount was still regarded as the absolute master.  The German commander, Colonel Collugo, even apologized for running out of gasoline for his personal cars, including a luxurious Rolls-Royce.

    "You know," the Viscount said helplessly, "I have not asked for any such preferential treatment, far from it. It makes me very unhappy that the Germans respect me so much and do not allow me to share the joys and sorrows of my people. For this reason, I have  To Colonel Colugo. But this brilliant German officer always asked for forgiveness. Fortunately, the people understood me and we distributed the food without telling the enemy. But, sir,  You know, this experience made me confused and pessimistic. I wanted to be a useful person and do something to alleviate the shame suffered by my country. "

    He shrugged.

    The Viscount continued that he was good at flying and had obtained a non-military pilot certificate before the war.  In those happy and peaceful days of 1930, he often flew to the Riviera and sometimes to England to watch the Ascot horse race.  Now, no matter how solicitous the German may be, he remains a prisoner.  One morning, he walked dejectedly and thoughtfully to the parking lot, where Marcel was polishing the Rolls-Royce, and the cylinder head was polished until it shined silver.  An idea suddenly occurred to him.

    Since we have the best cars in the world, why can¡¯t we fly to the UK?  This idea was almost absurd, but he couldn't get rid of this stubborn idea.  He explained his thoughts to Marcel in a serious manner, because he knew that he could not take on such an important task alone without an assistant.  He made the driver swear not to talk to anyone about it.

    Weeks passed and he still had not made up his mind.  Thinking of his meaningless life in the past, he became even more obsessed with realizing this crazy plan.  He obtained a pass to Paris and went there on official business, but actually to buy books on building airplanes.  After buying the book, he studied hard.  At first, he was in a fog, because he had forgotten most of his knowledge of trigonometry and mathematics, and had to buy more books to better master aerodynamics.

    Hour by hour he wandered in the world of imagination.  Suddenly, he thought of an old friend of his father's lifetime.  This man is a professor of mathematics at a university. He has now retired from education and is spending his remaining years in the suburbs of Evreux.  In order to explain his sudden desire to learn, he told the professor about his plans.

    Although the old professor disagreed with the viscount's plan, he was still willing to help his old friend's son.

    Since then, the Vicomte went to the suburbs of Evreux two or three times a week, spending several hours each time studying the dizzying cosines, tangents and other mysterious symbols.  The intense desire to achieve his goal kept him highly focused, and within a few weeks he was an accomplished mathematician.

    He began to make independent calculations in order to one day be able to fly.  The distance to the British coast is two hundred and fifty kilometers, and flying there requires at least fifty liters of gasoline, plus a fifty percent reserve.  He also had to take into account the weight of the engine, airframe and fuel, as well as his and Marcel's weight.  From the beginning, he was determined to bring Marcel with him, because he knew clearly that once the "Big Bird" was found flying away, the Germans would inevitably track down the accomplices.  Had Marcel stayed, he would have inevitably become a casualty.

    Narris interrupted: "Can I ask your assistant a question?"

    "Of course." He replied.

    "Please tell me Marcel, what do you think of the Viscount's plan? Are you willing to accompany him to England at that time?"

    He glanced at his master, his eyes clearly asking for his consent.  After the viscount nodded in agreement, Marcel said: "The master's instructions are orders, and they should be carried out without hesitation. Since the master is willing to risk his life, how can he not risk his life to accompany him?"

    "Do you blindly believe that the plan will succeed?"

    "Aren't we here?" he said with a meaningful shrug.

    "Good answer." Narris said with a smile: "Mr. Viscount, please continue."

    The Viscount began to secretly design the structure of the aircraft and began to draw drawings of the fuselage and wings, while Marcelle was busy looking for materials to build the aircraft.  He found an old decorative sail in the attic and cleverly stretched it over the skeleton of a "home-made" airplane. He also used an old tablecloth to create a drop cloth, unloaded from an old abandoned car.  The wheels are mounted on the aircraft.  Fortunately, there were all kinds of handy tools in the Viscount's castle. The Germans were not aware of their conspiracy.

    Month after month passed, and the big bird began to take the shape of an airplane.  They built it in a room next to the garage, and anyNo one can see it.  In addition to Marcelle, the Viscount's employees were reduced to three people: one was the cook who had been in the family for twenty years; the other was his wet nurse - a woman who could walk around the whole castle and grumble all day long about the countless things he had done.  An old servant who mismanaged the estate; the third was a young handyman whom the Viscount took in more out of pity than for usefulness.  Although all these people were loyal, it was not entirely impossible that something could have spread to German ears.

    This is one of the reasons why the Viscount keeps Marcel working by his side.  This way he could come in and out of the room as if nothing had happened, saying he was trying to fit a gas generator into the car.  To make it look more realistic, he and Marcel were actually installing a coal-burning device on an old car.

    Everything was done quietly and without arousing any suspicion.  Five months later, the Viscount began to implement his crazy plan.  His hazy vision had turned into a prototype aircraft that resembled a prehistoric bird, awaiting the installation of cylinders and fuel tanks, which were easy to install.  The main problem at hand was getting fuel.  Gasoline has been confiscated.  Only units with special needs, such as the Cross Society and the Fire Brigade, are allowed to use it.  The Viscount did not know how to obtain this indispensable liquid.

    There is a gas station a few miles from the castle, which is guarded day and night.  Bribing the guards was dangerous, for it meant putting his and Marcelle's lives in the hands of a stranger; risking a break in, both of them would be caught.  They must try to avoid arousing any suspicion, because a search of their room will reveal the "homemade" aircraft.  The viscount couldn't just ask Colugo to ration him a share of gasoline: the colonel was a cunning man, and he would definitely want to know why.

    Thanks to Marcel, who worked hard, he came up with a solution.  He suggested that the master hold a gathering every month or so, and perhaps many officials would come by car to attend.  When the owners of the cars are having fun, they can let the drivers rest in the owner's room and invite a few beautiful girls to hang out with the drivers.  Then he¡ªMarcel¡ªwent to the car with a bucket and a length of rubber hose to get a little oil out of each tank without arousing suspicion.

    At first the Viscount was hesitant. He did not want to see the enemies of the motherland having fun in his home.  There was no shame in losing a battle, but cooperating with a conqueror was incompatible with his philosophy and education.  He rejected the suggestion.

    A few weeks later, and still unable to do anything, the Viscount had no choice but to agree to the driver's suggestion and sent an invitation to Kohugo and his subordinates.

    The gatherings were held again and again as Marseille's gasoline stores grew larger and larger.

    " Taking only five liters from each tank at a time, he had enough petrol to fly across the Channel in about four months.  Once, a German driver suddenly came back to pick up something forgotten in the car. Marcel was almost caught on the spot.  Fortunately, the German drank too much and ignored him crouching behind a car causing trouble.

    The Viscount also experienced a critical moment. When talking about the engine, Colonel Colugo praised the Viscount, saying that he had the best car in Britain-Rolls-Royce, and said that he must see it.  Fortunately, he didn't actually look, because the Rolls-Royce engine had already been installed on the "home-made" aircraft.

    After a long period of time, the preparations for the adventurous flight are ready.  One quiet morning, before dawn, the Viscount and Marcel pulled the strange big bird to a wide avenue.  Without prior experimentation, you either succeed once or fail forever.  The motor took a few minutes to warm up.  Marcel first stabilized the rickety plane from behind, then jumped into the simple cockpit and sat behind the owner.  The plane taxied forward along the tree-lined avenue.  The engine first rotates in low gear and then drives the propeller's main shaft to reach maximum speed.  The small plane bumped on the bumpy road, getting faster and faster.  The Viscount held the control stick tightly and spread the wings.  He held his breath: the strange, prehistoric bird had almost reached the end of the runway before it took off, and its wheels hit a low fence.

    The small plane continued to rise.

    The bird flew toward Britain, the pilot keeping its speed steady at almost fifty miles an hour and its altitude never exceeding a few hundred feet.  The Viscount knew that the lower you flew, the less likely you were to be discovered, and as the Viscount said with a smile, the higher you flew, the harder you would fall.

    The flight was normal.  The viscount avoided large towns with ease and appeared to have escaped detection.  No German fighter planes pursued it, and no shots were fired to land it.  The small plane crossed the coast at Le Teborel and was almost halfway across the channel when a group of British Spitfires came towards it.  Marcel hurriedly took out a piece of white cloth and waved it constantly, which he had brought specially to express his peaceful intentions if he was discovered.  The Spitfires escorted them to a runway at the Royal Air Force Base in West Sussex. The Viscount skillfully piloted the small plane to land safely.?They achieved their goal and gained their freedom.

    Narris¡¯s first reaction was to admire this feat, and he was even more amazed after inspecting the small plane the next day.  Narris was no aviation expert, but to be honest, Narris had no idea how they could get this plane to take off and maintain a speed of fifty miles.  Spitfire pilots confirmed the words of the Viscount and his servants.  When they first discovered this "aerial lawnmower" flying staggeringly over the Channel, the British were still very concerned and didn't know what Hitler wanted in sending such a thing to the British beach.

    The Viscount was tried again, this time alone.  Naris asked him several times to recount experiences that he could almost recite.  Narris asked him what Marcel's talents were as a machinist, and he said that his servant was competent and neat in all his work.  That afternoon, Narris consulted a colleague with extensive engineering knowledge in the Royal Air Force. Narris knew that he had carefully examined the ancient craft and was impressed by its improvised assembly.  Being a layman, Narris asked him some questions about the engine and its performance.

    The next day, Narris met the Viscount again.

    "I have caused you a lot of trouble, and I feel very uneasy." Narris lit a cigarette and said: "There are two or three points in your story that need to be clarified. The first point is that it was taken from the fuel tank of a German car.  Oil problem."
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