Chapter 235: William, the Yangtze River Will Guide You!

At four o'clock in the morning in Changde, the sky was a deep black, and a waning moon could still be seen.

The air was filled with the dampness of dew.

At Changde Airport, rows upon rows of ready‑to‑launch P‑40 fighter aircraft and B25 Bombers stood in formation.

Under the searchlights, the aircraft glimmered with a cold metallic sheen, exuding a chilling aura of killing intent.

Hundreds of ground crew pushed each brand‑new War Axe and Mitchell onto the runway.

Since the fighters and bombers were procured through a system purchase, they were all fully fueled and fully armed, requiring no ground crew assistance for now, though the crew would be needed for a second sortie.

William was already seated in his ride, the cockpit of a brand‑new P‑40E War Axe fighter.

William served as the Captain of this Thunder Operation.

He slipped on leather gloves, feeling the cold control stick, and the wild, battle‑hardened yearning of an American cowboy surged within him like a volcano about to erupt.

Through the radio, he issued the final order in brief Chinese: "All units, attention, Thunder One is in position."

"Thunder Two is in position."

"Thunder Three is in position."

…

"Bomber First Squadron, ready."

"Bomber Second Squadron, ready."

Eighteen fighters, twenty‑two bombers, forty steel behemoths, gave a low‑rumbling response in the darkness.

Their engines were already pre‑heated, propellers turning slowly in the dim light, stirring up gusts that nearly knocked the people on the ground off balance.

Jiang Anguo stood by the window of the command tower, clutching a telescope tightly in his hand.

He gave no order, nor uttered another word. From the moment he decided to launch the raid, all trust had already been placed.

He trusted William, and trusted his own judgment even more.

William was the commander of this bombing, and after takeoff, everything would be left to him to accomplish!

"Commander, please issue the takeoff order!" William's voice came through the radio.

Jiang Anguo took the microphone, inhaled deeply, and said in a steady tone, "Depart!"

There was no rousing slogan, only a calm command.

Yet that very command made the entire airport boil in an instant!

"Let's shake it up!" William shouted, slamming the throttle to full.

William showed no hint of humility, his tone brash yet tinged with a bit of American humor.

The P‑40E beneath him let out a deafening roar, surged onto the runway first, and after a few hundred meters of roll, its nose lifted like a drawn bowstring, tearing through the dark veil and soaring straight into the heavens!

One after another, P‑40Es took off, quickly gathering in the sky to form a tight escort formation, like a legion of guardian deities circling above the airport.

The fighter formation still flew in a three‑three pattern.

Like a pack of wolves, they flew toward Wuhan!

Next came the heavier yet equally lethal B‑25C Mitchell medium bombers. Their twin‑engine roar was deeper and more powerful, and one after another they plunged into the night sky, forming a massive aerial formation under fighter escort, heading east toward Wuhan.

The engine noise of forty aircraft merged into a torrent of steel, rolling eastward through the silent night sky; that sound was both a prelude to death and a war song of vengeance.

When lacking strength, one must develop quietly; when possessing strength, one must strike with a heavy fist.

That is how Jiang Anguo thought.

Because it was still dark and the fighters and bombers lacked ground coordinate confirmation, William could only have the fighters fly low, hugging the Yangtze River toward the northeast.

At half past four in the morning, the formation had already entered the designated attack zone.

However, William looked out through the canopy; up, down, left, right—everything was an impenetrable black ink.

The engine's monotonous roar echoed in his ears; aside from the faint glow on the instrument panel, nothing else could confirm their existence.

A sense of oppression, swallowed by darkness, began to spread in every pilot's mind.

"Captain, are we off course?" a young pilot's voice came over the radio, trembling faintly, "Below is pitch black, no landmarks can be seen."

Changde is only three hundred kilometers from Wuhan in a straight line!

"Maintain heading, trust the compass." William's voice was steady, though his hand on the control stick trembled slightly.

He, too, was doubting.

In such darkness, relying only on a magnetic compass and an imprecise timer to pinpoint an airport was like searching for a needle in the sea.

The crucial issue was that they had not conducted any reconnaissance of Wuhan Airport before the bombing; they didn't even know where it was.

William could be certain that, because of the dimness, they were indeed lost.

Because there were no landmarks to use as reference!

They were like moths lost in ink, knowing only the general direction yet unable to find the single flame that could bring light.

"Commander, we have reached the preset coordinates, but visually we cannot spot the target." William reported to Jiang Anguo, his tone showing anxiety for the first time.

On the other end of the radio, Jiang Anguo was silent for a moment. He could imagine William's situation.

"William, don't rush." Jiang Anguo's voice remained calm, "Wuhan is a riverside metropolis; Wangjiadun Airport lies on the north bank of the Yangtze River. Your greatest advantage now is the darkness. William, keep descending, find the Yangtze, and fly northeast along the river. Remember, fly along the Yangtze. Wuhan, even in the dead of night, will have lights."

"William, the Yangtze River will guide you!"

"Copy that, Commander." William inhaled deeply, his gaze sharpening again.

He made a bold decision.

"All units, attention! All units, attention!" his voice rang over the channel, full of unquestionable command, "Thunder First Squad, follow me, now descend to five hundred meters! Repeat, descend to five hundred meters! We will fly along the river! The Yangtze is our only landmark!"

"Five hundred meters? Commander, that's too dangerous!" the lead aircraft of Thunder Second Squad protested immediately, "We're moving too fast; what if we hit something…"

"That's an order!" William cut him off, "If we get lost at high altitude, we'll just waste fuel and crash into the mountains! At low altitude we can at least see the ground! Trust me, follow me! The remaining fighters and bombers, maintain your altitude!"

Finishing his words, he thrust the control stick forward hard, and his P‑40E fighter dove like a brave diver into deeper darkness.

A sense of weightlessness surged, his stomach churning.

Right after that, the ground below began to lunge toward him at a terrifying speed.

When the altimeter stabilized at five hundred meters, a brand‑new world unfolded before William's eyes.

Below was no longer a void of darkness, but a vast, vaguely outlined sleeping earth. William could see the undulating silhouettes of mountain ranges and the winding river channels reflecting faint starlight.

And at that moment, a broad, night‑darkened band shimmering with a dim silver light appeared in his Left Front.

It is the Yangtze River!