Chapter 166: Air Superiority over Northern Myanmar

Below the cloud layer.

Song Yunfei's air squadron was patrolling in the sky and captured the yellow‑skinned Japanese Army scattered like an ant swarm. That should be the main force of the Japanese Army's retreat; from above, they looked like a group of unshielded live targets.

"01 target acquired, descending altitude, bombing commencing," Song Yunfei's voice rang over the radio channel, calm as if merely stating a fact.

"Received, Captain."

"Yes, Captain."

Song Yunfei pushed the control stick forward, and the BF109 fighter rapidly descended.

Because of the terrain in northern Myanmar, Song Yunfei's air squadron kept a flight altitude of two thousand meters.

The wingmen's responses came in succession, accompanied by a sudden surge in engine roar; the formation, like sharks sensing blood, thrust its noses sharply downward.

"Swoosh—"

A piercing sound of breaking the air instantly tore the silence above the jungle.

Several BF109 fighters, with unstoppable momentum, skimmed low over the Japanese troops' heads. At that moment, the 7.92 mm machine guns on both wings spat long tongues of fire, a dense hail of bullets like the Grim Reaper's whip lashing toward the ground.

Clack clack clack!

Clack clack clack!

Gunfire echoed through the open valley, dull and deadly.

On the ground, the Japanese, already marching under hardship, were instantly blown to pieces. Confronted with the slaughter from above, they were completely at a loss.

Panicked soldiers scattered on the road like frightened hares, trying to find cover.

Some clever—or lucky—ones rolled and crawled into the jungle beside the road, and even though thorns tore their bodies, they dared not look back.

Those who couldn't dodge fell in sheets under the machine‑gun sweep, a blood‑filled mist spreading over the forest trail.

A BF019 swept over the Japanese, followed by the Stuka bomber's iconic, wailing howl. As its belly flipped, 500‑pound bombs tore from the racks with a death‑rattling scream, striking the Japanese troops and convoys with precision.

A full sixteen 500‑pound bombs fell into the Japanese camp; one can imagine the magnitude of that power.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Deafening explosions rose and fell, soil mixed with severed limbs hurled high into the air, and flames instantly devoured the already fragile defensive line.

Song Yunfei, piloting his fighter, did not immediately pull away after emptying his ammunition; instead he pulled up the wings and circled several times in the air.

Through the cockpit, he could clearly see the Japanese's heavy losses on the ground; the road was littered with destroyed vehicles and corpses, and organized resistance had vanished.

After confirming the results, he piloted the BF109 low over the corpse‑strewn northern Myanmar jungle, his camera never stopping, snapping continuously at the ground—these were all combat records.

Song Yunfei checked the fuel tank, confirmed it was within safe limits, then satisfiedly flapped the wings and led the formation back.

On the ground amid ruins and smoke, Jin Gang Zong Si Lang was huddled miserably in a ditch, his anger making his teeth ache. He looked up at the departing Chinese Air Force, his eyes blood‑red, yet helpless.

At this moment, the Japanese Army units had no decent anti‑aircraft fire at all.

The soldiers only had the old Type 38 rifle in their hands; even though a few Sharpshooters, in fury, pulled the trigger at the sky, occasionally one or two stray rounds luckily struck a fighter's fuselage, they merely sparked a few sparks and could not cause any substantive effect.

Facing absolute air superiority, they could only be like lambs awaiting slaughter, at the mercy of the butcher.

Song Yunfei, flying over the Independent Regiment's pursuit units, also flew low and, in the air, saluted the ground with his right hand as a sign of respect.

The ground warriors, excited, waved their hands toward the aircraft in the sky.

Jiang Anguo looked up at the formation gradually fading into the horizon, yet a lingering sense of incompleteness remained in his heart.

Jiang Anguo glanced at the system interface. Watching the constantly rising numbers, this time Song Yunfei's air squadron's haul was truly good; the figures kept soaring wildly.

Even after the bombing was finished, the numbers would occasionally tick up; Jiang Anguo thought that occasionally severely wounded Japanese soldiers would slowly die in pain.

It seemed Song Yunfei's bombing here went very smoothly.

Most crucially, the fighters' relentless bombing of the Little Devil could directly affect the Little Devil's morale.

Already, due to marching through the rainy‑season jungle, the division commander being unconscious, and supply difficulties, morale was already low.

The Japanese Army's 56th Division finding it hard to completely get out of northern Myanmar's mud.

Jiang Anguo even thought that if Lashu Airport's conditions weren't limited—its runway length and hardness unable to launch large bombers—he would wish to instantly Exchange a batch of B‑29 "Superfortress" bombers from the system.

Those sky‑blocking steel behemoths, once airborne, would let the Japanese, still fleeing on two legs, truly learn what real strategic bombing is.

That would be more than just a tactical strike; it could directly alter the war's course by the level of destroying a city.

Speaking of strategic bombing, in this regard the Americans are definitely at the world's forefront.

It is not merely a technical issue; the key is the backing of massive national power, an aerial fortress built from endless industry.

In comparison, the Japanese and the Germans lag far behind in strategic bomber development, especially the Japanese; their industrial system is distorted, resources scarce, and they still cannot produce a few decent strategic bombers.

But one must admit, even Jiang Anguo, holding the system, feels torn when facing his troops' long‑term development.

Lashu Airport is not large, which largely limits his ability to use more advanced equipment. To take off and land a four‑engine heavy bomber like the B‑29, a massive expansion of Lashu Airport would be required.

However, the current battle tempo is extremely fast; to quickly resolve the urgent issue of the Japanese 56th Division, the present Lashu Airport is actually sufficient, and expansion would consume time and effort, possibly slowing the offensive.

The matter of expanding Lashu Airport isn't urgent at the moment.

The main reason is that although Lashu is backed by the interior, making supply relatively convenient, it itself lies in a mountainous city surrounded by continuous high peaks; the terrain is complex, making expansion extremely difficult.

Jiang Anguo silently calculated that if his forces later advanced to the Mandalay Plain, building a large airport there would be much more convenient.

Once there, establishing a large airport would place the entire central‑southern Myanmar within his bombing range; that would be the moment of truly mastering air superiority.