Chapter 329: Never Retreat

Changde Airport, the air was thick with the smell of aviation fuel.

Ground crew, drenched in sweat, swarmed the last P‑38 "Lightning" fighter, hurriedly loading it with ammunition and fuel. Its distinctive twin tails glinted coldly in the sun.

Seated in the cockpit, William glanced through his sunglasses at the massive formation gathering in the distance, pressed the radio's talk button, and said in a steady voice, "First Battalion ready, requesting takeoff."

Inside the makeshift wooden control tower at Changde Airport, Yan Xing stared intently at the wind vane. Hearing the request through his earpiece, he spoke into the microphone, enunciating each word as he gave the order:

"Permission to take off, execute the 'Sunset' plan."

"Yes, Chief of Staff."

William gave a solemn salute toward the tower, then yanked the throttle forward.

Boom—!

The engine roared with a gut‑wrenching scream; the P‑38 shot forward like an arrow, racing down the runway, its wings trembling slightly before it lifted its nose toward the sky. One after another, the brown‑green fighters sprang into the air, the First Battalion's full complement of twenty‑four P‑38s climbing together, forming a tight formation aloft.

Shortly after the First Battalion took off, another roar echoed across the runway.

Nick of the Second Battalion also requested takeoff. This time, to support the Independent Regiment's main force in forcing the Yangtze River and assaulting Yichang, the air squadron deployed almost entirely. A massive formation of forty‑eight P‑38 Lightnings roared as they turned, their noses pointing northwest in unison.

There was only one target: Yichang.

Their mission was crystal clear: destroy every strategic target around Yichang, especially the Yichang dock, turning it into a sea of fire to clear a landing zone for the troops.

As the formation completed, the forty‑eight aircraft blotted out the sun, streaking into the deep blue, their engines booming like thunder rolling across the sky.

…

At the Xiaoting front, smoke billowed.

【7】 The battalion commander of the 104th Regiment's 3rd Battalion, Da Ye Xiu, lay prone in a shell crater, his face twisted in terror as he stared at the sky.

Captain Da Ye Xiu, the battalion commander of the Tertiary Battalion of the Japanese Army 104th Regiment, was lying in a shell crater, his face full of terror as he stared at the sky.

Just moments earlier, the Chinese army's assault had surged forward like a tide, artillery rain splattering the Japanese positions with flesh and blood. As he thought he could only rely on sheer bodies to hold the wave, he looked up and witnessed a sight that froze his soul.

In the sky, a sea of aircraft roared past, their bodies emblazoned with the blue‑sky‑white‑sun emblem, glaring so brightly in the sun it was hopelessly blinding.

Those were not Imperial Japanese Army planes, but the Chinese Air Force!

Da Ye Xiu's heart leapt. When had the Chinese army acquired such a massive, advanced air force? It was a nightmare! He thought his battalion was doomed today, closed his eyes and waited for the fatal bomb to fall.

Yet, to his utter surprise, the planes did not circle overhead nor drop bombs on his position. They surged like steel dragons, their terrifying roar echoing as they swept straight over Xiaoting, diving toward Yichang in the west.

Da Ye Xiu blinked open his eyes, watching the departing formation, momentarily unable to process that the aircraft were not coming to attack them.

Even now Da Ye Xiu didn't know they had no reinforcements: the 116th Regiment to the north perished in the morning's bombing, and the 232nd Regiment to the east was stuck at Baiyang Town.

Because they knew the Chinese had heavy artillery deployed on the southern bank of the Yangtze, they dared not advance.

Clack! Clack!

At that moment, a burst of rapid machine‑gun fire cracked beside his ears.

A few stray rounds struck the earth mound before him, kicking up dust. The sharp noise snapped Da Ye Xiu back from his brief trance.

Right, this was the Xiaoting battlefield; Chinese soldiers everywhere were after his life, leaving no time to marvel at the air force's strength. Da Ye Xiu gritted his teeth, brandished his command knife, and shouted, "You idiot! Counterattack!"

"Machine Gunner, counterattack!" Da Ye Xiu shouted loudly.

Japanese machine‑gunners aimed their barrels at the wave of Chinese soldiers charging like wolves and tigers.

The regiment's intent was clear: the battle was stalemated and troops needed rotation. He had planned to pull the 3rd Company under Jiang Yuan from Baiyang Town to replace the 1st Company's defenses, allowing the exhausted 1st Company to withdraw for a breather.

Especially Mi Long, the main assault force, who should have rested long ago after this relentless push.

Even though the commander had yesterday night reinforced all units, replenishing the losses from the assault on Yidu with the 30th regiment.

But now he clearly underestimated the Mi Long from the northeast, and even more the blood‑stained resolve etched into his bones.

When the retreat order was being relayed, Mi Long's eyes were already blood‑shot, the blue veins on his neck bulging like worms. The recent wave of Japanese poison‑gas shells at Yunchi had killed many of his comrades, and now his reason was scorched clean by the flames of vengeance.

"You weakling! How can we retreat now?!" Mi Long ripped his collar open, saliva spitting, and roared at the messenger, "Tell the company commander I won't withdraw! I'll avenge my fallen brothers! Whoever blocks me today, I'll go after them! If I utter a single useless word, I won't be a man with a gun!"

As he spoke, he slammed his long‑unwashed cap onto the ground, lifted his rifle, and assumed a stance ready to charge. The long‑suppressed outlaw aura burst forth, aimed solely at the enemy.

The 3rd Company commander Jiang Yuan, who had come to deliver the order, stared at the blood‑shot man before him, his brows knitting into a deep frown.

He examined him closely; Mi Long's eyes were veined with blood, his whole demeanor like an enraged bull—nothing reasoned could sway him.

Moreover, the attack horn had already sounded, the battle shifting in an instant; if he forced a takeover of the 1st Company's position, it might only sow chaos.

"Dammit, lunatic!" Jiang Yuan muttered under his breath, shook his head helplessly, and turned back to the 3rd Company's command post.

The assault began.

The Independent Regiment's 1st Company, 1st Battalion, together with the 1st Company of the 448th Regiment of the 150th Division, surged like twin daggers, driving hard into Xiaoting's final defensive line.

The focal point of the clash was a high ground called "Ghost Bull Slope."

The terrain was tangled; both sides fought like two maddened beasts, clamping onto each other with no ground given up. The hillside was littered with shattered bodies and broken machine‑gun nests; the air choked with thick smoke and the scent of blood, every inch of earth pounded repeatedly by artillery.

Clack! Clack!

A Japanese machine‑gun bunker suddenly erupted, a hail of bullets sweeping like water, kicking up dust and pinning the advancing soldiers down.

At that critical moment, a young soldier crouched, ready to charge forward.

"Deng Mao! What are you doing? Drop down!"

Squad Leader Zhang Yi's eyes flashed; he yanked the boy's collar and barked in a lowered voice.

Deng Mao's youthful face bore a stubborn spark as he pointed at the flaming machine‑gun nest ahead and said earnestly, "Squad Leader, I'll go up and take out the Little Devil's machine gun! That thing is bullying us!"

Usually, taking out a Little Devil's machine gun was nearly impossible, as they couldn't get close to the nest.

Times have changed!