Comrade, your ingredients are too complicated.

In the airspace of Oran, Algeria, a battle-scarred Potez 650 transport plane was flying low over the airport control tower.

On its tail, the triangular emblem of the Vichy Air Force loomed like an unhealed scar. However, the bleak past did not affect the Lorraine Cross flag across the wing, which shone brightly under the blazing sun of North Africa.

Accompanied by the roar of the piston engine and the harsh friction of the tires when they touched the runway, the transport plane finally landed safely.

When the hatch door opened, a tall figure appeared at the top of the gangway. He squinted his eyes, facing the dazzling sunshine of North Africa, and took a deep breath of the air mixed with engine oil and the Mediterranean sea breeze.

"Algeria! I'm back! The torch of revolution will be rekindled from here!"

Behind Old Dai, Director Xiao moved half a step without leaving any trace, hiding himself at the junction of light and shadow. He neither stole the limelight nor lost his position, showing a diplomatic etiquette.

Adjusting his hat that was lifted by the air current, and looking at the colonial soldiers lined up on both sides of the runway, Director Xiao complained in a voice that only the two of them could hear:
"Old Dai, the pilot you selected is really fierce. He can fly a transport plane like a twin-engine fighter."

"But this batch of Tai-650 is really not up to par. Next time you send a telegram to the border area or Taiyuan headquarters, I will help you get a modified C-47 to use as a private plane."

"If you have any needs, just mention it. The magical Lao Huang will definitely not disappoint you."

Obviously, the iron-blooded revenge of the Second Battle of El Alamein and the widespread uprisings in Algeria, Morocco and other places finally relaxed Dai's tense nerves.

The corners of his mouth were slightly raised, and his tone was filled with unconcealed pride.

"Our French pilots have the freedom route engraved in their bones. Maybe their current achievements are not as dazzling as those of the Eighth Route Army Air Force, but one day in the future, the fighters will use their wings to measure every inch of the sky from Cherbourg to Berlin!"

"By the way, it must be a C-47. I feel that the size of that aircraft is not big enough."

"I am two meters tall anyway, so the interior space of the C-54 Skymaster is more suitable for me."

"Okay, okay, any transport plane will do. Just name it, and Old Huang will implement the modification plan."

Amidst the laughter and conversation, Dai and Xiao had already arrived at the No. 1 apron of the Oran Airport.

On both sides of the tarmac, a guard convoy composed of North Fleet Marines, Free French soldiers and Foreign Legion soldiers stood still like sculptures, waiting for orders.

Leading the convoy were two Porsche barrel trucks captured from the German army, followed by four Panhard armored vehicles.

The machine gunners stared at the sky vigilantly, apparently ready to engage in air combat at any time.

“Director Xiao, you have come from afar, so you should go first.”

"After entering the country, you should follow the customs of the country. Under the sky of free France, you, the leader, should naturally lead the way."

After several rounds of pushing and shoving, Old Dai finally smiled and shook his head, and stepped into the bucket truck with his long legs. Director Xiao no longer insisted, and sat down neatly and closed the door.

As the convoy drove out of Oran Airport, foreign soldiers along the way waved. Local civilians also poked their heads out from behind the earthen walls and shouted slogans in half-baked French.

The old man, who had experienced several wars, watched this strange convoy in silence.

French generals, Republic of China diplomats, some black soldiers, and German cars with the Iron Cross emblems still not scraped off - such a messy combination is truly an absurd scene unique to the war period.

After a while, the convoy arrived safely at its destination, the largest military port of Free France in North Africa: Mers el-Kebir.

Located in the western suburbs of Oran, the base is the strategic core of the French Navy in the Mediterranean. When fully loaded, its main anchorage and auxiliary berths can accommodate 6 large ships and 15 small ships.

Looking at the densely packed ships in the naval port and the sparkling welding light from the maintenance of the battleship Strasbourg in the dry dock, Director Xiao's eyes suddenly flashed with excitement, and the corners of his lips uncontrollably raised into an exaggerated arc.

"Okay, okay! Old Dai, the navy soldiers are really tough. I know they can definitely drive the fleet back to Algeria!"

"Next, as long as you and I increase our cooperation, blue bathtubs such as the Mediterranean, the Yellow Sea, and even the Atlantic Ocean and the East China Sea will have to change their owners sooner or later!"

"I'll tell you another piece of good news. The Weapons Experimentation and Research Bureau has a project that is about to be completed. It's called the shipborne anti-ship missile system."

"For the Italian Navy, that thing is like a nemesis."

The continuous praise from allies and the good internal news called anti-ship missiles made the wrinkles on Lao Dai's face unfold.

With the clarion calls of the Algerian and Moroccan uprisings resounding throughout North Africa, and the Toulon fleet breaking through the blockade and returning safely, he is now more and more confident.

An alliance is like a set of gears meshing together.

Without mutual benefit and win-win as a lubricant, even the most precise machinery will be scrapped sooner or later.

Thinking of the second batch of aid that was about to arrive, Lao Dai grabbed Director Xiao's wrist fiercely. The two of them strode straight to the battleship Dunkirk docked at the main anchorage.

······
"The barrel is thick! The gun steel is hard! The 330mm main gun is thick and hard!"

"Old Dai, I confess. I deserve to die. Before I saw the Dunkirk-class battleship with my own eyes, I was a staunch aviation commander. This was the oath I made when I saw the Lexington."

"But now, I have no choice but to rebel. Big ships and big guns are the ultimate destination for men! The pressure from the 330mm main gun alone is so strong, what about the 380? What about the 406? What about the 460?"

"No wonder Huang He keeps shouting about capturing Yamato and Musashi. It turns out that I am too short-sighted! From today on, I officially swear that I will never coexist with the little man in the sky."

On the deck of the battleship Dunkirk, Director Xiao's fingers gently brushed across the cold gun barrel, and the steel surface of the 330mm main gun glowed with a cold light. But men are always fickle in some areas, otherwise how could there be a dispute between Xiao Tiantian and Mrs. Niu.

One second he was still marveling at the industrial power of 330mm, and the next second he began to worry about the Richelieu in Dakar, West Africa, and the Jean Bart in Casablanca.

In a sense, the two battleships are in their current state, such as a bet father, a sick mother, a sister in school, and a broken home. If I don’t help her, who will help her?

Fortunately, Morocco has already revolted, and it is only a matter of time before we meet Jean Bart.

As for Richelieu, almost all of North Africa has changed its flag, so is West Africa far behind?
"Commander Xiao, the fleet tour is very tight. If you want to see all the ships today, I'm afraid we'll have to hurry and move. What do you think?"

The captain of the Dunkirk kindly reminded Director Xiao, bringing his thoughts back to reality. He cleared his mind of all the messy thoughts, and then followed him into the main gun fire control room.

When the captain lifted the waterproof canvas, an instrument as precise as a clock came into view.

Director Xiao leaned over and looked at it, hovering his fingertips three inches above the brass dial, as if he was comforting the injured soul of the steel giant beast in the air.

For more than an hour, the comrades of the North Sea Fleet set out from the main gun fire control room, passing through the boiler room where scorching steam was rolling, the engine room where the roar of steel was echoing, and the officers' and sailors' cabins where living conditions varied greatly.

When everyone present finished the tour and returned to the deck, Director Xiao's special military uniform had already been wet with sweat.

After taking a few deep breaths of the salted ape sea breeze unique to the Mediterranean, he suddenly pressed his elbow to Lao Dai's arm, and then complained in a funny tone:
"Before I set off, Huanghe shared a lot of interesting anecdotes about French warships with me. At the beginning, I was really listening to them as jokes."

"Until I saw with my own eyes the wine cellar that had better protection than the ammunition magazine, the toilet pipes that shared the circuit trough with the main guns, and the officer's bathtub that could be used as a lifeboat."

"This is very French. The living conditions on board can be a little worse, but you can't give up the red wine for lunch."

As soon as these words were spoken, the French officers traveling with them immediately burst into laughter.

For them, red wine is not just an ordinary drink. It is similar to Daiying's black tea and Achou's ice cream, and is a special strategic material and cultural symbol throughout their military history.

Even decades later in the 21st century, their warships still retain the world's unique position of onboard sommeliers, and even the design of nuclear submarines will calculate the optimal serving pressure of red wine.

As for those messy and weird designs on the ship?
People who had just been freed from their cages were not shy about sharing their fun. They talked one after another, even telling each other about the embarrassing incident of being electrocuted when going to the toilet. It was obvious that they did not regard their newly met allies as outsiders.

······
After visiting the destroyers Dunkirk, Algeria, Marseille, Mogador and the Fortune, it was already 9:30 pm.

At this time, the port of Mers-el-Kebir, which was under a blackout, was completely dark, and the warships at the berths faded into silhouettes darker than the night sky.

However, the 340mm and 240mm gun positions on the coastal defense batteries remain on high alert. Together with the port's air defense positions, they form the last line of defense and are always ready to respond to emergencies.

There is no way. Germany, Italy and Italy are dominant in the Mediterranean now, and no one can guarantee that the enemy will not suddenly launch a retaliatory attack.

In a special period when the port radar is not officially installed, it is better to be cautious in everything.

"Xiao, let's go back first. You've almost measured the waterlines of those warships. It won't be too late to come back tomorrow morning to take a closer look."

"The current Governor of Algeria has specially prepared a welcoming banquet for you. You cannot waste delicious food or food, otherwise you will seem unfamiliar with the charm."

"I know you want to board the Terror destroyer, and this matter is for me. I will arrange it for you as soon as possible after West Africa is done."

The hours-long harbor ship-licking experience was a feast for the eyes for the comrades of the North Sea Fleet. Almost everyone felt like Liu Laolao entering the Grand View Garden.

Especially the high-speed array composed of La Galissonnier class + Mogador + Fantasy, which directly made all members of the delegation excited.

At that time, some people even took out papers and nautical charts and started to deduce, wishing they could sail them out immediately to compete with Benzi's torpedo warfare team.

If I had to say what I regretted today, it would be that I didn't see the sister ship of the Indomitable, the destroyer USS Rock My Mother.

The nickname of this battleship, spread intentionally or unintentionally by Huang He, has long been known to everyone in the North Sea Fleet. If we have to talk about popularity, perhaps only the legendary Joffre aircraft carrier can surpass it.

After hearing Lao Dai's promise, Director Xiao reluctantly withdrew his gaze. After getting in the car, he seemed to think of something important and asked in a rather hasty tone:
"Old Dai, I discovered a problem when I visited just now. The Mers-el-Kebir Port in Oran is not big enough."

"One jellyfish, two battleships, seven cruisers, plus thirty destroyers have blocked the entire military port, and this is not enough to count submarines and auxiliary ships."

"If the German III and Italian air forces attack now, I'm afraid we will suffer heavy losses. Could it be that the British are tripping us up again?"

Director Xiao hadn't finished speaking yet, but Old Dai already understood what his ally meant.

The other party is simply worried that the British are preparing to make a fuss about Gibraltar's right of passage and use their old tricks of extortion.

I can only say that this is the reputation of the century-old friendship between Britain and France.

When Lao Dai thought of the damn strait, he couldn't help but feel a headache. He clearly said hello to London a day ago, but Fatty Qiu just refused to respond positively.

Just as the two of them were getting more and more troublesome, the correspondents who were traveling with them suddenly rushed over from behind. The man was holding a telegram in his hand, and something was obviously a big deal.

As expected, after the signalman took his position, he got straight to the point and said:

"Report to the general, the Ugly envoy sent an urgent telegram. He requested to enter Algeria immediately, saying that he had an informal proposal regarding the deployment of the Mediterranean campaign." (End of this chapter)