Chapter 392: Blooming in Many Places

East China airspace.

June 6, 1942, 5:15 a. m.

Just as William had expected, Nick's "Thunder Operation" had fully launched.

The Ghost Battalion's ninety‑six P‑38 "Lightning" fighters were divided into eight waves, each batch of twelve P‑38s cutting into the Japanese Army's weak air‑defense points with surgical precision.

Just as the previous surprise raid on the Japanese Army's Wuhan airfield in Central China, they again struck a Japanese airfield in South China.

The first wave of fighters swooped straight toward Nanjing Daxiao Field Airport.

Morning mist still lingered; Type‑97 fighters lined up neatly on the tarmac, along with a few of the Japanese Army's extremely valuable Zero fighters.

In the sky, a burst of engine noise rang out; the Japanese Army sentry looked up and it was already too late.

"Open fire!" Nick ordered, and four. 50‑mm machine guns roared.

Bullets lashed like steel whips, fuel tanks ignited, wings tore apart. Twelve Japanese aircraft instantly turned into fireballs.

The second and third waves shifted to Shanghai Hongqiao and Longhua airports.

In the third wave, bombs struck the hangars with pinpoint accuracy, incendiary bombs ignited fuel piles. The runway was blown into deep craters, concrete shards splintered like blades. Japanese ground crew scrambled with heads covered, only to be nailed to the taxiway by low‑altitude strafing.

Waves four through eight took turns bombing Hangzhou Jianqiao Airport, once the cradle of China's air force, now reduced to an enemy nest.

The aircraft shelter, control tower, and fuel tanks exploded in succession. The former site of the famed "814" air battle, once a place of glory, was today scorched by flames to wash away the humiliation.

This place, which should have birthed countless heroes, now sees them all become martyrs.

Why the Japanese Army started the war in 1937 has many reasons—internal conflicts and external ones alike—because they perceived their enemy's war potential as enormous; had they waited three years, Japan might never have dared to launch this invasion.

By 6:30, the mission was complete.

Fast, precise, ruthless.

Moreover, in its sheer magnitude, it was the largest number of fighters Jiang Anguo ever commanded after acquiring an air force.

If not for the size constraints of the airfields that prevented more B‑29 bombers from taking off and landing, Jiang Anguo would certainly have deployed additional B‑29s to blow the Japanese Army's command posts skyward.

Nanjing, Shanghai, and Hangzhou—the three major Japanese forward airfields—were completely crippled:

Destroyed 193 aircraft of various types;

Bombed 6 oil depots and 4 ammunition depots;

Runway damage was severe, rendering takeoffs and landings impossible for as short as ten days, up to a month.

Pressure on the Third Theater dropped sharply; for the Japanese Army to restore its air power in the short term became as hard as scaling heaven. The only way for them to address the air situation in Central and South China was to redeploy aircraft from the East Three Provinces, which would greatly diminish their strength along the China‑Soviet border.

The Japanese Army's main focus now lies on the Pacific Theater, making it difficult to obtain brand‑new aircraft from the home front; even the Navy's Zero fighters would be prioritized for deployment to the various Pacific battle zones.

The most critical issue.

Nick's Ghost Battalion directly solved a major trouble.

The Japanese Army could no longer take off from those three locations to intercept the returning B‑29 formation, allowing William's B‑29 bomber group to return safely.

At this moment, Quzhou Airport.

Nick personally led the 1st and 9th Squadrons, a total of twenty‑four P‑38s, roaring in for landing.

The 9th Squadron's twelve P‑38 fighters, serving as a reserve, did not employ any weapons to attack the Japanese ground forces.

Ground crew had already lined up awaiting.

That was Jiang Anguo's special support unit, air‑lifted in the dead of night on June 5, arriving by starlight aboard a C‑47 carrying 20 tons of aviation fuel, 120,000 rounds of. 50‑caliber ammunition, and two spare engines.

"Quick! Complete the resupply within five minutes!" Nick jumped from the aircraft, removed his flight cap, sweat soaking his forehead and hair.

Ground crew worked like an assembly line: inserting fuel hoses, loading ammunition belts, inspecting the airframe…

The C‑47 sat silently at the runway's end, its cargo door flung wide like a mute mother ship.

At 6:48, the twenty‑four P‑38s roared aloft again, climbing to a cruising altitude of 6,000 m and racing toward the East Sea.

Their mission: rendezvous with William and hunt down any Japanese aircraft daring to chase the B‑29.

Above the cloud layer, Nick looked east, murmuring softly, "William, hold on… we're coming."

The imagined sea battle never materialized.

The twenty‑four P‑38 "Lightning" aircraft sliced through the clouds like silver shuttles, swiftly forming escort formations on both sides of the B‑29 formation. Their wings gave a light shake, as if in salute.

William's B‑29 bombers and Nick's P‑38 fighter formation merged smoothly, forming a massive bomber formation that returned to Huaxia airspace.

"Divine Bird No. 1, this is the Ghost Battalion," Nick's voice came over the radio, "We're here to bring you home."

Nick took special care to inventory all the bombers assigned to this mission, and none were missing.

William leaned back in his seat, his taut nerves finally relaxing. He gazed out at the blue sea and sky, feeling as if in another world. The fervor that surged when he dropped bombs over Tokyo moments earlier had now turned into a deep, weary calm.

They had completed an incredible operation.

"Nick," he pressed the transmitter, his tone unusually calm, "you missed a grand fireworks display."

A brief silence on the radio, then Nick's lightly amused reply came, "Is that so, Captain?"

"Looks like you'll have to go back and watch the footage," William said with a slight smile, "though it's brief."

At the very moment the "Sun‑Shooting Operation" began, a specially equipped B‑29 in the formation activated a 16‑mm high‑speed camera mounted under its belly. The footage captured the entire scene: white phosphorus bombs drifting over Tokyo like cherry blossoms, Yokosuka ablaze, the Tokyo Imperial Palace shrouded in black smoke… each frame bore witness to the collapse of the Imperial myth.

The film will be sent to Chongqing, Huashengdun, and London!

Announcing to the world: Huaxia's wings can now strike straight to the enemy nation's heart.

"A pity we didn't see the Zero take off," Nick feigned regret, "I still wanted to try the newly mounted rockets."

"Spare us," William chuckled lightly, "they didn't even keep the runways. Nanjing, Shanghai, Hangzhou… all crippled. Your 'fireworks' bloomed earlier than mine."

William knew clearly that since Nick personally undertook the escort mission, it meant Nick's side of the operation had already succeeded.

The two exchanged smiles, their thoughts in sync despite being thousands of meters apart.

The formation turned southwest, heading toward the Jianghan direction.

The sea surface lay mirror‑smooth, reflecting the silhouette of the steel giant bird.

When flying over Nanjing, Nick deliberately had the 9th Squadron's aircraft conduct a sweep mission, compensating for the fact that the 9th Squadron had not participated in this attack formation.

Now this really scared the Japanese Army on the ground, because they had just woken from sleep; after one bombing, a second wave followed immediately.

The Little Devil who was once arrogant and overbearing has now become a startled bird; the ground anti‑air forces, faced with absolute air superiority, are undoubtedly prey for the P‑38 Lightning.

The only misfortune on this mission was that on the return leg, the aircraft designated Divine Bird 007 suffered engine failure and requested to land at Quzhou; Nick arranged a squad, three P‑38 Lightnings, to escort the 007 aircraft to Quzhou Airport.