Chapter 238: Destroying the Japanese Army's South China Airports

May 25, 1942, 7:11 a. m.

At the horizon, that streak of fish‑belly white gradually widened, tinting the ink‑blue sky with a hazy glow. At Changde Airport, everyone's heart was in their throats, staring intently at the increasingly distinct black dots appearing on the eastern skyline.

Jiang Anguo stood by the window of the control tower, his binoculars warmed by his prolonged grip. He could see the silhouettes of the aircraft, could see the faint trails they left in flight, but he could not confirm. On the battlefield, any slight lapse could lead to disastrous consequences.

Around the airport, Xu Guozhang personally led a machine‑gun Squad, guarding beside several old Czech‑style ZB‑26 light machine guns. The soldiers nervously pressed ammunition belts into the magazines, eyes never blinking as they stared at the sky.

To them, any unidentified aircraft was a potential enemy.

"Company Commander, are we really not opening fire? What if it's a Little Devil's plane following us?" a Company Commander whispered.

Xu Guozhang spat, scolding, "You clueless fool! What do you know! Regiment Commander Jiang said it's his plane! If you dare fire recklessly, I'll kill you first! Keep your eyes wide open!"

Even so, Xu Guozhang's palms were slick with sweat. A misjudgment would turn today's victory into a colossal joke.

At that moment, the radio in the control tower crackled with a "shasha" sound, and a slightly weary yet excited voice rang out clearly:

"Changde Tower, this is Thunder One, requesting landing clearance. We… have returned with breakfast."

Calling it a tower is less accurate than saying it's a tent on the ground.

Jiang Anguo seized the microphone, his voice trembling with excitement: "Thunder One! Welcome home! The runway is clear, wind direction and speed are normal, you are cleared to land!"

He immediately turned and shouted out the window: "Regiment Commander Xu! Friendly forces! Friendly forces!"

Xu Guozhang, hearing the shout, collapsed onto the ground with a sigh of relief, waved his hand and barked, "All of you, damn it, keep your muzzles down! Look how you're scared, like quails!"

A thunderous roar of cheers erupted from the ground. The sleepless Sichuan Army soldiers and ground crew waved their arms, saluting the heroes in the sky.

William's aircraft was the first to line up with the runway; its wheels touched the ground smoothly, skidded a short distance, then came to a gentle stop. He opened the cockpit canopy, removed his flight helmet, revealing a face smeared with ash and sweat yet beaming brilliantly.

He faced the control tower, gave a playful salute, then grabbed the infinite‑range radio in the cabin and joked loudly, "Sir, the timing is perfect; breakfast can begin."

"Of course." Jiang Anguo's voice came through the radio, calm with a hint of amusement, "The bread tubes are sufficient."

One after another, all the aircraft landed safely. Some fuselages were riddled with bullet holes, some landing gear still bore plant branches, but they all returned.

The pilots jumped from their planes and embraced the ground crew tightly; the entire airport was immersed in a post‑raid euphoria.

As flight commander, William immediately reported the situation at Wuhan Airport to Jiang Anguo.

All were destroyed, including fighters and bombers, and countless Japanese Army soldiers were killed.

Jiang Anguo saw the numbers flashing in the system: at least over a thousand Little Devils had died in this bombing, and Jiang Anguo's system had earned more than 50,000 points, each Little Devil yielding forty points.

"Well done, William." Jiang Anguo finally felt his heart settle.

"Commander, when does our next wave of attack begin?" William asked.

Jiang Anguo smiled, then pointed outside, "Take a break first; the second wave's bombing isn't large. After you've rested, carry out the third‑wave bombing mission."

Indeed, Jiang Anguo was gearing up for a ruthless strike: to obliterate every Japanese Army airport in Central and South China. Destroying the airports was not the goal; the real aim was to kill the Japanese pilots and their bombers and fighters.

"Yes, sir, Commander." William's face also showed a hint of fatigue.

However, Jiang Anguo gave them little time to celebrate.

When the first ray of sunlight fully illuminated the ground, the airport's engine roar sounded again.

The second batch of bombers and fighters had completed preparations, and amid the massive roar, one after another surged into the sky.

Nick, commander of Thunder Second Squadron, led eight P‑40E fighters and sixteen B‑25C medium bombers to carry out the second wave of bombing.

This time the target was the relatively nearby Yichang Airport. Yichang was a key forward base for the Japanese Army's advance on Chongqing; its airport was like a nail lodged in the throat and had to be pulled out.

Moreover, one cannot let others sleep peacefully beside the bedside!

After the Zao‑Yi Campaign, the Japanese Army occupied Yichang.

Jiang Anguo thought, if he had a unit here, he would dare to push north against the Japanese Army, retake Yichang and Yueyang that the Japanese had seized, and block the Little Devils in Wuhan.

Coordinating aircraft and artillery could scare the Little Devils to death.

After refueling and rearming, William's First Squadron simply ate a few things—drinks need not be mentioned, just a dab on the lips—and Thunder First Squadron took off again.

Their target was farther and bolder: to fly to Guangzhou and Nanchang.

Due to a shortage of personnel, Jiang Anguo could only have William lead the First Squadron to Guangzhou for the bombing mission.

Jiang Anguo stood before a massive map, using a red pencil to draw heavy crosses over Wuhan, Yichang, Guangzhou, and Nanchang.

What he intended was not a one‑off retaliation but a systematic, devastating aerial assault. He would bomb every airport in the Japanese war zone!

Destroying airports is not the goal; they can be rebuilt once cement and rebar are in place, and they'll be operational in days. What truly must be eliminated are the Little Devils' aircraft and pilots. Planes are industrial products—so long as Japanese factories keep running, they can keep producing them. Pilots, however, are elite among elites; training a competent pilot consumes vast time and money.

Each aircraft removed lessens the threat to the Huaxia Army by a point. Every enemy plane shot down means fewer ground comrades will have to be sacrificed in a future battle.

If the Huaxia Army could launch a counter‑offensive now, it would be ideal, as many elite Japanese Army troops have been redeployed to Southeast Asia.

After all, that instantly reduces Japanese forces on Huaxia soil by four hundred thousand.

Unfortunately, the Huaxia Army now faces even greater difficulties: severe shortages of weapons and equipment, and most critically, a lack of intelligence.

Meanwhile, the Japanese Army continues stability‑maintenance operations under these conditions and has launched the Zhejiang‑Jiangxi Campaign at this juncture.

It was precisely the initiation of the Zhejiang‑Jiangxi Campaign that led the Nationalist government to believe the Japanese Army still possessed combat capability; otherwise, coordinated offensives from multiple war zones could at least push toward the Wuhan area.

Because of the Zhejiang‑Jiangxi Campaign, the Japanese Army redeployed Wuhan troops, encircling from the Nanchang direction, intending to annihilate the Nationalist forces around Quzhou.