Horst Kloster had supervised the loading of the bomb, despite the fact that he still knew little of its functionality or capability. He mentioned as much to his superior, Colonel Knemeyer, but wasn’t given much of an explanation.

“Leave it to the scientists,” Knemeyer told him. “Your only job, your only concern, should be the delivery of the bomb. The plane’s unmatched speed will be your best bet to get safely away afterwards.

Horst wasn’t completely satisfied, but he knew he had little choice in the matter now.

The following day, Horst sat in the cockpit as the Horten bomber flew steadily toward the English coast, now better than half-way to his target. Two hundred meters to the rear and on either side were his escorts, two Me-109 fighters, each one carrying a three-hundred litre drop tank for the long flight to England.

Jack Swaggart, piloting a B-26 Marauder, had purposely held back from engaging the superior Horten bomber. His plan had been for two P-38 Lightnings to attack and engage the two Me-109 escorts, thereby distracting them from their chief mission: flying escort for the Horten bomber. Jack was waiting for a tactical advantage to present itself—and when it did, he had every intention of attacking the Nazi stealth plane.