Chapter 410: Destroying Mandalay

Xibu Command Post.

Jiang Anguo gently slapped a piece of intelligence onto the wooden table in front of Dai Anlan.

"The 18th Division, two brigades, fourth regiment; infantry of the 23rd Brigade's 55th and 56th regiments; the 35th Brigade's 114th and 124th regiments. Fully staffed, nearly 30,000 men, the city's fortifications as dense as a beehive." He lifted the corner of his mouth, his tone tinged with a hint of teasing, "Brother‑in‑law, the pressure on you isn't small!"

Dai Anlan took the intelligence, gave it a quick glance, and actually laughed out loud: "Hehe, isn't Anguo here as well?"

He lifted his gaze, his eyes sharp as a blade, "Tell me, for this assault on Mandalay, how many 'gadgets' have you actually prepared? Don't tell me you expect us two divisions to fight it out by brute force; that's not your style!"

Obviously, he had already seen through Jiang Anguo's "little scheme"; this battle would not be a simple ground assault, there would be thunderous tactics.

It was at Lashu that Dai Anlan was stunned by the defensive works; Lashu only needed one division to hold—let alone a Japanese Army division, even an entire army group, Dai Anlan was confident they could defend.

Before the words finished—

Buzz—!!!

A low, thunder‑like engine roar came from the horizon, growing louder, shaking the tops of the tents.

Both raised their heads at the same time.

The eastern sky split open, thirty‑six B‑25 "Mitchell" medium bombers flew in a steel‑goose formation, skimming low over Yi Luo Wa Di Jiang, each belly loaded with 500‑pound high‑explosive bombs, their silver wings glinting coldly in the sunrise.

Close behind, higher up, forty‑eight P‑38 "Lightning" fighters pierced the clouds like silver shuttles, their twin tail fins cutting the sky, gun muzzles flashing coldly.

"Song Yunfei's bombing squadron took off from Dongzhi," Jiang Anguo stood, looking to the sky, his voice calm yet weighty, "Colonel William's escort formation lifted from Lashu. Target: Mandalay."

Dai Anlan's pupils narrowed: "You… are you trying to blow Mandalay into the sky?"

Dai Anlan had never fought in Jianghan, nor known the details of the Tokyo bombing.

It was also his first time seeing a bombing formation of such massive scale.

"Anguo, I see your fighters also carry huge bombs!" Dai Anlan asked curiously.

"The P‑38 Lightning has one characteristic: its skin is thick, it can carry a large payload, it's fast, and when needed it can serve as a bomber. Its drawback is obvious—it's expensive. You know the Flying Tigers, right?" Jiang Anguo said.

Dai Anlan nodded.

"The Flying Tigers use the P‑40 Warhawk, and the P‑38 costs three times as much as the P‑40; that's the only downside of the P‑38!"

"In this Mandalay counter‑offensive, we'll be harsher than the Little Devil's attack."

"No regard for cost, no regard for price." Jiang Anguo turned, pointing to Mandalay on the map, "From now on, every square meter of land will be plowed by bombs three times. All Japanese Army bunkers, Buddha statues, bell towers, barracks, warehouses… will be flattened. I'll make Mukoda Koya not even have a chance to dig tunnels."

He paused, his gaze icy: "This is the Scorched‑Earth Order. I'll make the 18th Division of the Japanese Army vanish forever beneath this land."

【5】 Dai Anlan felt the Myanmar air cooling, gooseflesh rising on his skin.

Dai Anlan feels that the air in Myanmar is beginning to cool, and goosebumps are rising all over.

If these fighters were bombing our own side, Dai Anlan could be certain that, at a glance, his own 200th Division would lose about half its strength.

He was relieved that all the aircraft overhead belonged to his side.

"Anguo, isn't this a bit cruel!" Dai Anlan said slowly.

Jiang Anguo shook his head, "We're just eliminating a bunch of vermin."

As for the Myanmar civilians of Mandalay, sorry, this isn't Huaxia; Jiang Anguo has no such concerns. In his view, since you Myanmar people have sided with Japan, well, Myanmar and the Expeditionary Force are now enemies.

Time: June 21, 07:30, over Meimu.

William gripped the P‑38 control stick, his gaze fixed below on the small town that guarded Mandalay's eastern wing's transport hub. Meimu.

William looked toward the window frame, saw the distinctive flag on the ground, "What an ugly flag on this side."

The white flag with a red dot looked striking from above, standing out amid the endless green jungle.

"Ghost Battalion, all units, attention," he pressed the radio, his voice ice‑cold, "We have entered the target zone. Deploy our 'big treasure.'"

"Copy, Captain!"

"Ha ha, I can't wait any longer!"

From the radio came the pilots' long‑suppressed excitement.

"Descend to four hundred meters, maintain formation, precise bomb release!"

Ghost First Squadron, twelve P‑38s swooped down like silver grim reapers, engines screaming as they tore the sky.

Each belly carried two 250‑pound M64 high‑explosive bombs, stout, jet‑black, tail fins rotating, glinting death's cold light in the sun.

On the ground, the Japanese Army's 18th Division, 114th Infantry Regiment's camp just raised cooking smoke.

Regimental commander Kibimoto Kizaburō stood outside the command post, inspecting the machine‑gun nests reinforced last night.

Suddenly, he looked up—

An ominous roar came from the sky.

"Bad! Enemy aircraft!" he roared, "Air‑raid alarm! Take cover!"

Reaction was lightning‑fast.

Well‑trained Japanese soldiers didn't panic; they rushed to the shelters, trenches, and concrete fortifications.

The anti‑aircraft squad pushed the mm Anti‑Aircraft Gun into position, barrel raised, aimed at low altitude.

But it was too late.

The first wave of bombs had already left the racks.

Whoosh—Boom!!!

Twelve high‑explosive bombs fell like meteors, striking the camp's core at three hundred meters per second.

The first bomb hit the regiment's command post; the brick‑and‑wood structure vaporized instantly, Kibimoto Kizaburō and the operation map were blown into a spray of blood.

The second bomb pierced the underground ammunition depot, a sacrificial fireball rose a hundred meters, lifting half the camp into the sky.

The third and fourth bombs slammed into the mess hall and barracks; soldiers eating breakfast were shredded by the blast wave, limbs and rice scattering a hundred meters.

The ground shuddered like an earthquake.

The P‑38s did not leave; they pulled up for a second pass and dove again, the nose bristling with four. 50 caliber machine guns roaring, bullets raining like steel, targeting exposed anti‑aircraft guns and fleeing signal troops.

"First Squadron, suppress ground anti‑aircraft fire! Don't let them fire! Second, third, fourth battalions, release bombs, climb quickly; our primary mission is to protect the bomber fleet!" William ordered.

"Understood, Battalion Commander."

Sure enough, a 98-type anti‑aircraft gun just spat a tongue of fire, and the next second it was hit by a P‑38 incendiary bomb; the Japanese Army gunner burst into flames, screaming and rolling.

In just three minutes, the four‑wheeled high‑explosive bomb barrage finished a round of sweeping fire.

The Mei Miu Camp was no longer of this world.

Flames devoured everything combustible, and the charred truck frame billowed black smoke.

The Trench was blown flat, bodies piled layer upon layer, some reduced to half a torso, others melted into the steel plates by the extreme heat.

A field hospital medic knelt amid the ruins, hand‑scraping rubble, crying, "Medicine! My medicine is still inside!"

Before the words finished, a massive bomb fell from the sky, exploding instantly around him and engulfing him.

Three kinds of smell permeated the air:

the acrid sting of gunpowder smoke, the char of burnt wood, and the most nauseating— the sweet, putrid scent of charred human flesh.

The surviving Japanese Army troops curled up in the shattered shelter, eardrums ruptured, faces smeared with blood.

Regimental Commander Binben Xisanlang collapsed helplessly on the ground, muttering, "It's not the Chinese army… it's the Air Force… how do they have so many aircraft?"

Binben Xisanlang had assumed the Chinese would begin their attack from the ground, just as in Tonggu, according to intelligence the surviving Japanese Army brought back: the Chinese first launched an attack with Tank units.

But this time was different; the Chinese actually deployed the Air Force, and in such enormous numbers.

Binben Xisanlang could not even believe how many planes had just flown over— at least a hundred, perhaps!