Chapter 232: Sichuan Army 150th Division, Xu Guozhang

The troops of the 150th Division on the ground also looked up curiously at the iron bird in the sky.

It seemed to want to land, and indeed, before long, the largest one flew down.

Jiang Anguo's roar also made their heads lower.

At this moment, a person who looked like an officer finally reacted, waving his hand hurriedly: "What are you all still standing around for! Hurry, go help the superior push the plane aside!"

He also saw Jiang Anguo's colonel insignia.

Only after a dozen or so soldiers snapped out of a dreamlike state did they toss the rolled cigarettes in their hands—actually just leaves mixed with some tobacco strands—and swarmed over.

They stared at the huge "airborne iron bird" before them, a sight they had never seen, their faces filled with astonishment and awe.

"One, two, three, go!"

Under Jiang Anguo's and the transport plane pilot's command, the soldiers pressed their shoulders against the cold fuselage, using every ounce of strength. The C-47 transport plane, amid a chorus of "hey‑shoo hey‑shoo" shouts, was slowly pushed off the main runway and onto the grass.

Jiang Anguo pulled two packs of camel cigarettes from his pocket and tossed them to the officer, saying, "Next!"

Jiang Anguo didn't let them work in vain.

"Thanks, superior!" the officer, named Liu Heng, who was also from Sichuan, called out.

He hadn't expected that a casual push of a plane would net him two packs of cigarettes.

At that moment, seven P‑40 fighters roared in succession onto the runway, tracing graceful arcs.

After all the aircraft had landed, a short but unusually sturdy middle‑aged officer hurried over with a squad of soldiers.

He wore a faded uniform, a star‑studded collar badge, a Mauser pistol at his waist, and his face bore the characteristic fiery cleverness of a Sichuan native.

"Which unit are you, kid?" he boomed before reaching them, his heavy Sichuan accent evident, "What's the deal with bringing so many foreign planes to my area? Was there any notice?"

The other party was a Major General, so Jiang Anguo could not be overly disrespectful.

Jiang Anguo immediately stood at attention and said, "Report, superior! Independent Regiment Colonel Jiang Anguo, ordered to come to Changde for a mission!"

The commander surveyed Jiang Anguo from head to toe, his gaze sharp. He saw Jiang Anguo's brand‑new uniform, the spirited soldiers emerging from the transport behind him, and the seven P‑40 fighters gleaming in the sunlight.

His eyes shifted from initial scrutiny to a more complex expression.

"Independent Regiment? Never heard of it." He hummed, then softened his tone, "I am Division Commander Xu Guozhang of the 150th Division. This is my defense sector."

Jiang Anguo felt a stir inside. The 150th Division, Liu Xiang's troops, a genuine Sichuan Army Corps!

He instantly bowed respectfully, performing a proper military salute again: "So you're Division Commander Xu! I have long admired your name! Sichuan soldiers, fighting out of Sichuan, endless bloody battles—Anguo holds you in great esteem!"

When the words "Sichuan Army" were mentioned, Xu Guozhang's fiery demeanor softened, replaced by a hint of pride and heavy sentiment. He glanced at his own poorly equipped soldiers, then at Jiang Anguo's German‑armed unit, and sighed.

Jiang Anguo seemed to have forgotten something and quickly added, "Colonel of the 200th Division Independent Regiment, Jiang Anguo!"

"Good kid, so you're from the 200th Division, fought well in Myanmar!" Xu Guozhang thought, "That's a legitimate unit, stronger than my own step‑raised troops."

Xu Guozhang still wondered where this Independent Regiment originated; the newspapers these past two days were full of reports on the 200th Division, and the radio stations kept broadcasting the 200th Division's battle achievements.

Especially bringing back a Little Devil battalion commander alive—that's quite a feat.

"What's there to admire? Just risking lives," he waved his hand, then resumed his shrewd demeanor, "Enough talk. Colonel Jiang, since you're here on orders, I won't pry further. But my territory is just this one runway; you lot, my dear brats, don't cause me trouble."

"Please, Division Commander Xu, rest assured!" Jiang Anguo replied immediately, "We're only stationed temporarily, not staying long. Also, I'm short on manpower; I'd ask you to support some ground‑crew personnel to help with supervision."

Xu Guozhang chuckled, "Support is no problem, but my men have never seen such precious aircraft; if they bump into it, I won't pay for damages!"

"Lives are paramount; the plane is secondary," Jiang Anguo laughed.

Xu Guozhang gave Jiang Anguo a deep look; the young colonel's tone was surprisingly bold.

He nodded, turned to his adjutant and ordered, "Go, summon the Engineer Company, obey Colonel Jiang's dispatch."

Finishing, he patted Jiang Anguo's shoulder and, in a voice only the two could hear, said, "Kid, prove yourself. In Changde, the enemy's planes come daily; I hope your foreign gadgets actually work."

The Little Devils weren't coming to bomb Changde; their aerial bombs are valuable, and they mainly use reconnaissance planes to scout the situation.

Especially now, as the Little Devils conduct the Zhejiang‑Jiangxi Campaign, they keep a close eye on Xue Yue's forces in the Changsha direction.

Having spoken, Xu Guozhang led his men away in long strides. His silhouette bore the distinctive Sichuan commander's aura—seeing through life and death yet unyieldingly bold.

The reason Xu Guozhang didn't converse much with Jiang Anguo was that they were not familiar, and moreover Jiang was on a secret mission; Xu didn't want to pry, and even if he asked, answers might not be given.

Xu Guozhang's figure vanished at the far end of the airfield, but his words struck Jiang Anguo's heart like a hammer.

"In Changde, the enemy's planes come every day."

Jiang Anguo stared at the crude earthen runway before him, brow furrowed. With so few men, not only secret missions but even basic daily watch and aircraft camouflage were strained.

Worse still, the runway could not bear the take‑offs and landings of a larger fleet in the coming days.

Expanding the airfield was imperative.

But what does expanding the airfield require? Manpower, tools, and massive supplies.

He glanced at the Engineer Company sent by Xu Guozhang; the soldiers were eager yet only held a few Iron Shovels and pick heads, their clothes patched, faces sallow. These Sichuan troops' conditions were harsher than he imagined.

With this few, the expansion would take forever.

Jiang Anguo paced the airfield once, a plan forming in his mind. He found Xiao Si, whispered a few orders. Xiao Si's eyes lit up, recalling the small town from months ago, and he turned immediately to carry them out.

Soon, on a vacant patch of the airfield, a massive marching cauldron was set up, the fire crackling brightly.

Then, several heavy burlap sacks were hauled down from the transport, dumping into the pot with a "whoosh," containing nothing but large chunks of pork belly! The meat was reserve rations Jiang Anguo had exchanged from the system, marbled with fat and lean, clearly layered.

This time, not pork stew with noodles, but straight to the toughest dish: Red-braised Pork!

With a sizzle, the meat chunks swirled in hot oil, ginger slices and scallion sections burst fragrant, followed by soy sauce, cooking wine, rock sugar… a domineering, intensely rich meat aroma instantly wafted out.

For soldiers accustomed to brown rice and pickles, rarely tasting oiliness all year, that scent was essentially the most vicious "torture."

The first to smell the aroma were the Sichuan soldiers in the airfield, who were leveling the ground with Iron Shovels; upon catching the scent, each halted their work, inhaling deeply, their Adam's apples bobbing involuntarily.