Chapter 144: A Fat Goose Over Xibu's Sky

"No! That's an enemy aircraft!"

His reaction was swift; years of air‑combat experience saved his life. Just as he pulled up, a black shadow with a death‑shriek swooped past him from below.

He glanced in terror, his heart missing a beat.

It was Germany's BF109!

The enemy plane's silhouette was sleek—the German BF109 fighter.

Before he could react, the No. 2 bomber behind him was not so lucky.

"Boom!"

A deafening blast; from the corner of his eye he saw the Zero trailing behind ripped apart in an instant, turning into a massive fireball with fragments scattering.

Zhongcun's cold sweat instantly soaked his flight suit. The Zero, famed for agility and speed, proved paper‑thin against such a steep‑dive, ferocious enemy.

The Zero's weakness is its thin skin; undeniably, its range far exceeds the BF109—2,200 km versus the BF109's 900 km.

The BF109's 1,200‑horsepower engine gave it an ultra‑high climb rate.

Even in top speed, it far outstrips the Zero.

As for firepower comparison.

BF109: one 20 mm cannon, two 7.92 mm machine guns.

Zero: one 20 mm cannon, two 7.7 mm machine guns.

In firepower, it's a half‑pound versus eight‑ounces.

But the BF109's protection is superior, giving it higher survivability; the Zero sacrifices armor for performance and range, making it prone to catching fire when hit.

The Zero's greatest edge may be its highly experienced pilots—of course, this is early in the Pacific War.

At this moment, the sky offered the Little Devil no chance; thirty BF109s dived from above into the Japanese Army's formation.

The first to be taken down wasn't Zhongcun's Type 97 bomber; Song Yunfei locked onto a fleeing Zero, fired a burst that hit its wing and fuel tank, and with a boom the Zero exploded and broke apart.

Eliminate the eight escorting Zeros, and the remaining bombers are as easy as an eagle snatching chicks.

Zhongcun tried to warn his comrades, but the radio was already filled with terrified roars. Song Yunfei's thirty‑plane squadron swooped in like a pack of wolves, cutting into the Japanese formation.

Even though Zhongcun still wondered about the enemy's model, he had no time to think. At several thousand meters altitude, Japanese Zeros engaged in a desperate dogfight.

Japanese Zero pilots knew they could not flee; retreat meant total annihilation, as they were all too familiar with the German fighter's specs.

It was no longer a bombing run but a one‑sided hunt.

Indeed, this time Song Yunfei personally took the seat, piloting the German masterpiece, the Bf109.

Its only flaw was its short landing gear.

In performance specs, this European‑theater dominant fighter completely crushed the early American P‑40 "Warhawk" and held a generational edge over the Japanese front‑line types.

The Bf109 tops out at 615 km/h, while the Japanese Zero, built for ultimate maneuverability and range at the cost of structural strength, peaks around 560 km/h.

The Zero is like a bird stripped of armor for lightness—nimble yet extremely fragile. A hit from a cannon or Heavy Machine Gun Bullet will tear it apart mid‑air into a dazzling, deadly fireball. In other words, the Zero is a classic "crispy chicken." Early in the war, its only edge was pilot quality; the Japanese aviators who launched the Pacific War were a select elite with abundant combat experience.

Now that advantage has vanished.

Because Jiang Anguo's exchanged pilots, also top‑ranked aces drawn from the system, match these so‑called "Japanese Flowers" in mindset and tactics.

Coupled with their superior aircraft, the outcome was sealed the moment they took off.

Of course, by the later war, neither the Zero nor the BF109 could match the Mustang; its firepower—six 12.7 mm machine guns—could obliterate anything in sight.

"Eagle 2, watch your left wing and lock on!" Song Yunfei's calm voice rang over the radio, clear and steady.

This starkly contrasts Japanese command methods. Only the commander's lead aircraft carried a radio; wingmen relied on hand signals or flare shots, a fatal handicap in fast‑moving dogfights.

Jiang Anguo's flight group equipped every fighter and bomber with two‑way radios, allowing pilots to share intel instantly and coordinate—a devastating asymmetrical advantage.

"2, roger, I've locked onto him!"

The Zero just downed was taken out by Eagle 2. He responded, yanked the stick hard, nosed down, and instantly clamped onto a fleeing Zero's tail.

The Expeditionary Force's air squadron went full‑throttle on firepower.

Thirty Bf109s sliced through the Japanese bomber formation like thirty sharp cleavers, wolves among sheep.

The 20 mm cannon under each Bf109 wing roared, each round capable of cleaving a Japanese Type 97 bomber in two.

Soon, half of the Japanese bombers disintegrated in the sky, trailing black smoke like kites with broken strings plummeting to earth.

On the forward outpost east of the Mijie River, observers and photographers kept watch, snapping shot after shot to capture the historic scenes on film.

"Retreat! All units retreat!"

Japanese bomber commander Lieutenant Zhongcun watched the falling Zeros, shouting desperately over the radio. He had seen the enemy's overwhelming numbers from the start and knew the fight would become a one‑sided slaughter. Though Bushido Spirit demands a noble death, as commander he did not want the Imperial Japanese Empire's air power utterly destroyed here.

But the Chinese army's fighters were too many; from the outset they pierced his formation, targeting the escorting Zeros.

Ordering a retreat now might be the only wise move.

He was wrong; he met a faster Bf109. Even the agile Zero cannot match the Bf109's straight‑line speed.

Moreover, Zhongcun was piloting the clumsy Type 97 bomber.

The Japanese Type 97 bomber, though claimed to have defensive armament, is like a fat goose with a few toothpicks against a Bf109 hunter.

About twenty‑three minutes later, the lopsided massacre ended.

Twenty‑three Japanese fighters and bombers were all shot down. Over the skies of Xibu, no enemy aircraft remained.

The Expeditionary Force lost only one Bf109, its pilot killed on the spot.

In the final moment, a desperate Zhongcun, seeing no escape from the Bf109, frantically throttled his heavy bomber and rammed head‑on into the pursuing Bf109.

Knowing he couldn't evade, Zhongcun screamed hysterically, "Long live the Emperor!" and with his madness, went to meet the Emperor!