Equestria: World War II (1939-1941)

10TH JUNE 1940

-------------------------------------------------------------COL DE PELOUSE, THE ALPS-----------------------------------------------------------
It was 4:00am here, and was quite a freezing cold morning here in the Col de Pelouse mountain pass, in the Alps. French Army Commander Arthur Durand and his regiment, the 5th Alpini, were on patrol. This mountain pass was located on the border between Italy and France, and with the recent fall of France to the Germans, it looked like the Italians would soon be coming for their share of the country next. The French had recently attempted to retaliate against the Germans, and they had succeeded in retaking a part of Paris. However, the Germans were starting to outnumber the French, and it looked like Paris would soon be back under German control soon.

The Allied troops who had been stranded in Dunkirk were also finally out. The Royal Navy had using multiple ships to evacuate British and French troops from Dunkirk, and take them back to England. More than 350,000 stranded soldiers had been taken to safety in England through this operation, which had ended on 4th May. However, the French soldiers who were in the south of France were still fighting, and that part of the country was still not annexed yet. France's overseas territories were relatively safe as of now, but if Paris fell, those would also be under German occupation. Durand had kept his soldiers on high alert, to keep an eye out for any invading Italians.

Durand then decided to quickly head back to his tent and grab a quick meal, since he hadn't eaten anything since dinner, and since he had to stay awake for his troops. He quickly grabbed a can of pea soup, heated the can a bit, opened it, and ate the soup. As he was just finishing his soup, he heard gunfire, and one of his soldiers came running to him. "Commander Durand! A large group of Italian soldiers are trying to get into the French side of the border! Thankfully, we spotted them in time, but we've already lost one of our men!" said the soldier, panting.

Durand instantly got up, and took out his rifle. "We'll teach them not to mess with us French!" said Durand, as he and the other soldier ran towards the area where the battle was taking place. The snow made it harder, as the Italian soldiers were wearing white winter coats, to camouflage themselves with the cold terrain around them, so it was harder to see where the Italian soldiers were. It didn't help that it was dark as well. The area was lit by torches and lights from the French camp, but that wasn't enough to detect the camouflaged Italian soldiers.

The lack of light and the camouflage worn by the Italians weren't the only thing not helping. They were more than 9,000 feet above sea level, and at high altitude, the soldiers kept getting exhausted faster. While the French soldiers were relatively used to the high altitude, the Italians weren't. This made them take more breaks from shooting, giving the French soldiers more windows to take them out. By 5:00am, the French had already killed 24 Italian soldiers, for the loss of 10 of their own.

However, that was when the French heard a noise that initially terrified them. It was the sounds of aircraft engines. Somehow, the Italians had gotten air support. They couldn't see the planes, as the Sun still hadn't risen yet, but they could tell that they were probably fighter aircraft, and they currently weren't engaging. Probably they couldn't see the enemy in the dark slopes below. When the Sun came out, it was all over. Durand ordered, "Alright, men, get ready to shoot down those planes! When the Sun comes out, they'll see us, so get the big gun!"

"Right away, Commander!" said the soldiers, assembling the pieces of a small anti-aircraft cannon that they had brought with them. Soon, as the Sun began to rise, and the battle continued to rage in the Alps, the Sun began to light up the silhouettes of the planes. Despite them not being able to ascertain their types, one thing was clear. These planes were single-engine fighters. They were too sleek and fast to be any Italian fighters, and their shape didn't resemble the French Dewoitine fighters that the Italians had taken from the French Air Force.

They matched the description of what seemed to be German Bf109s. This horrified the French, realizing the Italians had probably somehow gotten their hands on these sleek German fighters. The men got the cannons out, preparing to shoot the planes down, as the Sun began to rise more. However, as the time reached 6:30am, the Sun was fully up, and the planes came closer, they started coming closer to the scene of the battle. Till now, they had only been circling around the battlefield, and had not interefered in any way.

As they came closer, the French saw that these were not Bf109s at all. They were British Hawker Hurricanes. That was odd. How were these Allied planes still here, that too, when most Allied planes had either been flown back to England or destroyed on the ground to prevent them from being captured by the Germans. Plus, if these were Allied aircraft, why had they been circling for so long, instead of engaging the Italians, and why had the pilots not made contact with them? That was odd, thought the French, as they looked up at the Hurricanes.

However, as they watched, holding off against firing against the Hurricanes for a second, everything changed. They watched as the Hurricanes suddenly dive bombed, coming at them at high speed. They were not going for the Italians, though. They were going for the French! Before the French soldiers and Durand could even react to this, the planes began strafing them. Taken aback by this, they began firing, but it was too late. The shots reached the surprised French, and began tearing them apart. Soon, before they could even have a chance to react, the French contingent was annihilated by the Hurricanes. Durand, however, was still alive, but mortally wounded. As his vision began to blur, he saw something horrified.

He watched as the forms of the Hurricanes shimmered, and soon, what he saw were German Bf109s. As the lights began to go out, his brain, in its final moments, realised only one thing. The Germans had somehow disguised Bf109s as Allied planes. The final image he saw was of the Bf109s, and the last thing he heard was the sound of the Italians cheering.

------------------------------------------------------------------VALLETTA, MALTA--------------------------------------------------------------------
It was now 9:00am here in Valletta, the capital city of the British territory that was Malta. Flight Lieutenant Murray Thomas of the RAF was having a hard time. The Italians had out of nowhere, invaded the small island nation of Malta, and from what they had heard over the broadcasts from Fighter Command, he had learned that the Italians had also invaded France as well, and that the French were having a hard time.

Malta was also having a hard time, as the Italians had begun their siege of the small island country at 6:00am, and taken everyone by surprise. Thomas was flying over Valletta in his Supermarine Spitfire, as the Italian planes were swarming over him and his fellow pilots like flies. The Italians were flying Macchi C.200 Saetta fighters, which were smaller than the British Spitfires, but vastly more maneuverable.

As Thomas quickly evaded of the Italian fighters that were chasing him, he saw an odd sight. A squadron of Hawker Hurricanes with RAF markings was approaching. This was weird, as they hadn't gotten any confirmation that backup was on its way, and these Hurricanes hadn't even attempted to contact them, as all RAF aircraft were using common radio frequencies. Plus, as the Hurricanes came closer, Murray recognized the registration markings and a shark mouth on one of the Hurricanes.

The marking was from a plane that had been shot down during the occupation of Denmark. Murray knew this as he happened to have known the pilot of that Hurricane, who's body had unfortunately washed up on the shores a day after, and the wreckage of his plane was pulled out of the water a month after. The second he noticed this particular Hurricane, with the same registration and shark mouth paint job, he became suspicious, and primed his guns, getting ready to fire at the Hurricanes, as they came closer.

The second Murray's Spitfire flew closer to the Hurricanes, as he expected, they began firing at him. Murray instantly avoided their gunfire, and began chasing the Hurricanes, intending to shoot them down. All of his fellow pilots also followed him, chasing the Hurricanes and the Italian fighters at the same time.

Thankfully, soon, Murray was on the six of one of the Hurricanes, and his more maneuverable Spitfire was just barely keeping with the Hurricane, which was surprising, considering the Spitfire was leaps ahead of the Hurricanes. Thankfully, he soon locked onto the Hurricanes, and as he began firing and shredding the plane, he watched as the Hurricane's form began to shimmer, and soon, in its place, was a German Bf109. As the Bf109 began to go down in flames, Murray was flummoxed by what he had just seen. How could the Germans just disguise their fighters as Allied planes?

Soon, the Italians began to overpower, with backup coming in, and as Fighter Command ordered them to retreat, the Spitfires began flying away from Malta, heading towards England. As Murray looked back at Malta, he hoped that they would be back one day, and they would figure out how the Germans were doing this... dark magic.