Chapter 411: Continuous Bombardment

The P‑38 Lightning that completed the first wave of bombing the Meimu mission, led by William's Ghost No. 1 aircraft, quickly climbed and rose into the sky.

William's aircraft flew in formation beside the B‑25 bomber.

"William, well done," bomber squadron commander Song Yunfei said over the radio.

William's mouth corner showed a slight smile, "Thanks!"

Ghost Battalion, First Squadron. Except for the No. 1 aircraft, which is William's own ride, the other fighters all followed at the rear.

The First Squadron's bombs and machine‑gun ammunition were all expended during the recent bombing of Meimu.

As for why they continued to follow this raid, William meant to give the Japanese forces stationed in Mandalay a sense of deterrence and pressure.

In terms of numbers, to impose the greatest pressure on the ground troops.

Obviously, the Little Devils' reaction speed was also fast; while the Meimu bombing was underway, a detachment of the Japanese Fifth Air Group stationed far away in Mandalay had already launched its fighters.

William was observing the air and ground situation when the onboard SCR‑520 radar screen suddenly flickered; twelve dots were rapidly approaching from the direction of Mandalay.

"Enemy aircraft! Altitude 3,500 m, twelve in number, models identified as Type 'Falcon' and Type 'Zhong Kui'!" Ghost Second Squadron commander Lei Ling, upon seeing the radar data, immediately reported to all fighters over the radio.

William's mouth corner lifted slightly: "Right on time."

He slammed the throttle forward, the P‑38 engine roaring like thunder. "Ghost Battalion, attention! Second and Third Battalions, discard remaining bombs, climb at full speed! Adopt the three‑three formation, charge head‑on to break the enemy formation! Fourth Battalion, protect the B‑25, continue the bombing mission! First Battalion, return to Lashu!"

"Understood!"

"Copy that! Damn it!"

Twenty‑four P‑38s instantly jettisoned their racks, discarded their bombs, and their airframes became as light as swallows; with both engines at full thrust, they climbed at an astonishing 800 m per minute.

At the same time, the twelve fighters of the Japanese 77th Fighter Squadron that had taken off from Mandalay entered visual range—silver‑green paint, sharply pointed wings, the very Type 'Falcon' touted as the "fastest in East Asia."

"They intend to dogfight using maneuverability," William sneered, "Unfortunately for them, our P‑38s are faster and more heavily armed."

8:15, the air battle erupted.

Japanese commander Zuobo Jiantailang led his squadron in a dive, attempting to use the Falcon's tighter turning radius to get behind the P‑38s.

But he didn't know that the P‑38 'Lightning', though appearing bulky, has excellent stability at high speed and ferocious firepower.

"Open fire!" William ordered.

The first wave of the crossfire network swept across like the Grim Reaper's scythe.

Four. 50 caliber machine guns and one 20 mm cannon fired simultaneously, the bullets lashing like steel whips.

A 'Falcon' was hit in its left wing, instantly breaking apart; the pilot couldn't even bail out before it turned into a fireball that fell into the rice fields.

"Disperse! Spread out!" Zuobo Jiantailang roared.

However, the P‑38s had already deployed the 'three‑three' hunting formation:

Two aircraft feigned attack, one lay in ambush;

High‑altitude suppression, low‑altitude interception.

A 'Zhong Kui' had just latched onto a P‑38 at its six‑o'clock position; the next second, another P‑38 dove down from the clouds, a barrage of incendiary rockets turning its cockpit into a sieve.

The air combat was no longer a dogfight but a one‑sided slaughter.

The P‑38, leveraging its speed, firepower, and radar warning, fully controlled the battle tempo.

Once a Japanese fighter was locked on, escape was virtually impossible.

"Second Battalion, flank the right wing!"

"Third Battalion, lower altitude, force them into the fire net!"

William personally targeted Zuobo Jiantailang's aircraft, its tail painted with red cherry blossoms.

William had only one chance; his No. 1 aircraft had little ammunition left.

He barrel‑rolled to evade enemy fire, then pulled up and dived vertically from above.

"Locked on… fire!"

Rat‑a‑tat— Boom!

The 20 mm high‑explosive round pierced the Falcon's engine, causing the whole aircraft to burst into flame.

Zuobo Jiantailang staggered out of the fire, his parachute barely opened before being shredded by subsequent fire.

In just seven minutes, nine of the twelve Japanese fighters were shot down, two were heavily damaged and forced to land, and only one managed to escape back to Mandalay.

The P‑38s suffered only two lightly damaged aircraft, with no losses.

"Fourth Battalion report, the B‑25 has completed the first bombing run on Mandalay, target destruction estimated at 35%." the radio transmitted the good news.

William pulled the nose up, looking toward Mandalay, black smoke billowing, flames shooting skyward.

"Ghost Battalion, mission accomplished. All units return."

Above Mandalay, June 25, 1942, 08:18 a. m.

The alarm sounded mournfully, tearing the morning sky.

Song Yunfei sat steadily in the cockpit of the B‑25 "Mitchell", his gaze iron.

The bomber squadron flew over Mandalay.

Below, Mandalay's city outline was clear: the golden‑topped pagoda, colonial clock tower, railway hub, and sprawling barracks, all bathed in a final tranquility.

"All crews, attention, enter the bomb run path," his voice low, "Remember, this is not bombing, it is judgment."

Twenty‑four B‑25s formed a tight box formation, their bomb bays slowly opening.

Each carried six 1,000‑lb M65 high‑explosive bombs, a total of steel and flame enough to erase a medium‑sized city from the map.

On the ground, Japanese anti‑aircraft sentries rattled their bells frantically.

The remnants of the 18th Division, still reeling from the Meimu defeat, now saw black clouds pressing over the city.

"Take cover! All into the shelters!" the officer roared.

But there was nowhere to escape.

8:19, the first bomb fell.

Boom—!!!

A high‑explosive bomb pierced the city hall dome at 300 meters per second, instantly detonating the underground ammunition depot.

The entire building exploded like a cardboard box, sending debris, rebar and human limbs soaring dozens of meters into the sky.

The shockwave swept across three blocks, century‑old teak houses collapsed like building blocks, and brick walls turned to powder.

Then the second wave, the third wave… a total of seventy‑two bombs rained down like divine punishment.

All of Mandalay was engulfed in a sea of fire.

The train station was hit directly, the steam locomotive melted into a glowing red lump of iron;

The Japanese Army 56th Regiment barracks were covered by three bombs, the entire camp vanished, leaving only a fifty‑meter‑wide crater; the bottom was charred black, and all soldiers within ten meters of the blast center were vaporized, leaving no shadows.

The fuel depot on the banks of the Yi Luo Wa Di Jiang self‑detonated, a fireball rose three hundred meters, the heat wave boiled the River Surface, and schools of fish turned white and floated.

Mandalay instantly became a living hell.

Flames spread like living things, licking the Buddha tower, churches and homes.

Temperatures reached fifteen hundred degrees, the asphalt road melted and flowed, and metal door frames twisted like vines.

A Japanese Army communications soldier hid in a basement, thinking he was safe, but the oxygen was sucked out instantly, and he suffocated, his body curled up like a fetus.

The air was thick with the scent of death: acrid gunpowder smoke, charred wood, the sweet‑pungent odor of burnt flesh, mingled with the foul smell of burning gasoline, nauseating yet inescapable.

On the streets, survivors moved like walking corpses.

Someone had half a face cut away, yet muttered "Long live the Emperor";

Someone was on fire, leapt into a ditch, but the water was scalding, and they screamed as they sank.

A field medic knelt amid the ruins of the field hospital, raking the rubble with bare hands, crying, "My wounded! Someone, help!"

Before his words finished, another explosion rose, swallowing him.

The indiscriminate bombing struck not only the Japanese Army stationed in Mandalay, but also the Burmese People of Mandalay; death shrouded the entire city.

However, the command of the Japanese Army 18th Division had long since moved out and was not inside Mandalay city.

Although there were Japanese Army troops in the city, more units were still garrisoned around Mandalay.

Above the sky, the B-25 formation had completed its bombing run, turned its heading, and flew southeast toward Dongzhi Airport.

Ghost Fourth Squadron's objective was crystal clear; they immediately flew over Mandalay Airport, dropped a bomb from the belly, while Japanese Army fighter planes on the ground were still preparing to take off, and Death descended.

They gave them no chance to take off; every threat had to be dealt with on the ground.

The Ghost Fourth Squadron's P-38 still circled at high altitude, its wings trembling lightly, as if Death were saluting.

Song Yunfei took one last look at the inferno below, pressed the communicator, "Mission accomplished. First wave of bombing complete!"

On the other end of the radio, William replied calmly, "Copy. All Ghosts, return!"

The engines roared away, leaving only a burning city and, drifting in the wind, the wreckage of the Imperial Japanese Army.