Chapter 233: Before the Battle, Expanding the Airport in Changde

The soldiers of the Engineer Company of the 150th Division couldn't help but swallow.

So fragrant, they're almost dazed!

Not just the Engineer Company— even the troops of the 150th Division near Changde were enchanted by the aroma.

"Damn… who's stewing the meat? It smells so good!" a soldier couldn't help but swallow a mouthful of saliva.

"Maybe you're just drooling in a dream? In these days, who would spend so much on stewing meat?"

But the scent grew stronger and more vivid, like an invisible hand scratching each of their hearts.

Quickly, the news spread like wings from the airport to the 150th Division's garrison.

Not to mention the news—the smell reached everyone inside Changde city.

"Did you hear? Over at the airport, the Independent Regiment is stewing meat! A whole pot of Red-braised Pork!"

"Is it true? You're not kidding, right?"

"Absolutely true! My fellow townsfolk are on duty at the airport, and the aroma drifts two li away!"

In an instant, the entire 150th Division garrison erupted. Soldiers set aside their gear, craned their necks toward the airport. The meat aroma, as if magical, tugged at every soul.

Xu Guozhang was studying a map in the division headquarters when the outside erupted in clamor; he frowned, stepped out, and saw his soldiers in small groups whispering, looking absent‑minded.

"What are you all making a fuss about! How disgraceful!" Xu Guozhang roared.

A Company Commander, his face ashen, ran over: "Report, Division Commander, they're stewing meat at the airport, the brothers… the brothers are starving…"

Shameful!

Xu Guozhang, fuming with his beard bristling and eyes bulging, was about to erupt when he saw Jiang Anguo leading a group, carrying a large basin toward him. The basin was brimming with glossy, ruby‑red, steaming Red-braised Pork.

"Division Commander Xu!" Jiang Anguo walked over with a grin. "I just arrived in Changde, unfamiliar with the area, and want to expand the airport, but we're short on manpower. So I made something to fill the brothers' stomachs. As long as they're willing to help with the work, they'll eat their fill!"

Xu Guozhang looked at the basin of Red-braised Pork, then at the yearning glint in his soldiers' eyes; his anger instantly dissipated. He sighed deeply, then burst into hearty laughter.

"You sly devil! Are you digging at my corner or buying off my troops?!"

Jiang Anguo handed the basin forward: "Division Commander Xu, you're joking. We wouldn't dare buy a army! We can't either! We're all fighting the Japanese; there's no distinction between you and me. Have a taste?"

Xu Guozhang's reply could be taken as either a big or small matter.

Xu Guozhang picked up his chopsticks, lifted a piece of marbled meat, and put it in his mouth.

The meat was tender and silky, melting instantly, with a burst of rich sauce and meat aroma in his mouth.

He had never in his life tasted Red-braised Pork so delicious.

He smacked his lips, looked at his soldiers, steeled himself, raised his hand, and shouted in his trademark Sichuan accent:

"Everyone! All of you, go to the airport! Whoever did the most work today can eat two extra pieces tonight! Show the vigor of the Sichuan Army, or else you'll disgrace me!"

"Yes! Division Commander!"

"Whoa! There's meat to eat!"

"Let's go! Get to work!"

In an instant, the entire 150th Division boiled over. Thousands of soldiers surged toward the airport like a tide, picking up the tools Jiang Anguo had pre‑bought on the ground; that enthusiasm and vigor were more effective than any mobilization meeting.

At sunset, Changde Airport turned into a bustling construction site.

Thousands of Sichuan Army soldiers, shirtless, shouted chants, sweating like rain. The clatter of Iron Shovels against stone, the soldiers' shouts, mingled with the pot's bubbling and the meat aroma, formed a strange yet vibrant tableau.

Jiang Anguo stood on a height, watching the fiery scene, while calmly calculating in his mind.

Of course, relying on this enthusiasm only meant expanding the apron and the dispersal area.

In a short time, extending and reinforcing this earthen Runway to the standard for heavy bombers was simply impossible.

The workload was too great, and they had no time.

But Jiang Anguo could not wait.

He knew the Japanese at Wuhan's airport, those fighters and bombers, would not stay there forever.

The Runway at Changde Airport was not very long—only 1,500 meters, about fifty‑sixty meters wide. That was a respectable wartime airport, but far insufficient for Jiang Anguo's plan.

Moreover, the runway had endured Japanese bombing, and after Doolittle's bombing of Tokyo, the Japanese bombed airports in the Nationalist‑controlled zones again.

However, after the 150th Division garrisoned Changde, they carried out simple repairs on the runway.

This runway could handle fighters like the P‑40 and even medium bombers like the B‑25; theoretically 1,000 meters could barely get them airborne. But for safety and to allow fully loaded take‑offs and landings, it must be extended to 2,000 meters.

Ideally, a secondary Runway could be added—one for heavy bombers to take off, another for escorting fighters. That would enable faster, more efficient air power deployment, forming an effective attack wave.

Jiang Anguo was calculating in his mind.

He flew from Chongqing to Changde in just over an hour, but from Lashu to Changde required eight or nine hours. That meant pilots urgently dispatched from Lashu would not arrive until tomorrow at the earliest.

The building materials Jiang Anguo had were also stored near the airport.

In terms of time, a hardened cement Runway could be built within a day. Of course, it wouldn't support heavy aircraft that same day. Even the hardest cement can set in a day, but its strength may be insufficient to withstand the massive impact of fully loaded bombers landing.

As he was pondering, a familiar voice sounded beside him.

"Brother, tell me straight—are you about to take action against the Japanese?"

Jiang Anguo turned his head and saw Xu Guozhang holding a large bowl with a few pieces of Red-braised Pork left. The Sichuan Army commander didn't look at him, but stared at the few P‑40s cloaked in camouflage net far away, his voice low, bearing the keen intuition of an old veteran.

Jiang Anguo fell silent for a moment; he knew such matters couldn't be hidden from a battle‑hardened veteran like Xu Guozhang. The Red-braised Pork, the blazing construction site, and these fine aircraft all pointed to one answer.

Moreover, the Japanese had been intermittently bombing Chongqing and Chengdu these past two years—this year—instead focusing their strategic center on Southeast Asia, so the bombings had lessened.

Jiang Anguo didn't answer directly, but retorted: "Division Commander Xu, the Japanese bomb us daily—are we just supposed to take it?"

Xu Guozhang heard this, turned his head, stared deeply at him, and said nothing.

Jiang Anguo met his gaze, his eyes steady: "We're rebuilding the airport not to make the planes mere decorations."

He paused, his voice gaining a weighty edge: "We'll make the Japanese understand that China's skies aren't a place they can come and go at will. If they bomb us once, we'll make them pay tenfold, a hundredfold!"

Those words rang out, full of blood‑soaked resolve.