Chapter 531: Lightning Strike on Yangon (5)

The night faded bit by bit amid artillery fire and close combat, and the eastern horizon glared with dazzling dawn, laying bare the entire devastation of Yangon.

The shattered walls and ruins still smoldered, the streets were strewn with Japanese soldiers' corpses and broken weapons, and the air reeked with a sharp blend of gunpowder smoke, char and blood.

What left the surviving Japanese in the city felt utterly hopeless was that the sky—had brightened.

The Japanese Commander had still hoped to use the night's cover to cobble together a defense and pull back the remnants, but after daybreak, what awaited them was not a chance to breathe but a devastating strike from the sky.

The artillery barrage that lasted through the night showed the Sherman tanks had no intention of stopping.

Outside the city, Zhang Bing received an order from Jiang Anguo.

Upon learning that Song Yunfei's bomber squadron was about to arrive, he immediately transmitted a retreat order over the radio.

"All units, attention! The bomber squadron is about to air‑strike Yangon; withdraw three kilometers back at once, avoid the bombing zone, ensure your safety, and after the air strike, resume the attack immediately!" Zhang Bing shouted over the radio.

The continuous bombing made him feel his ears were about to go deaf.

"Copy!" the tank crews replied in unison.

Forty‑eight Sherman tanks turned direction in order, their tracks rolling over the crater‑scarred ground as they slowly withdrew.

The once‑noisy forward positions fell into a brief hush, leaving only scattered gunfire and wails from the city in the distance.

Zhang Bing stood on the turret, looking toward Yangon, a cold sneer curling his mouth: "Little Devil, daybreak has come; your doom has arrived!"

At the same time, a roar echoed from the sky.

Song Yunfei's bomber squadron sped in from the Taunggyi direction, forty‑eight B25 bombers forming a tight formation, escorted by twelve P38 fighter aircraft, like a massive black eagle swooping toward Yangon.

In the cockpit, Song Yunfei gripped the control stick, his eyes sharply fixed on Yangon, and said in a low voice over the radio: "All crews, maintain formation, hold your heading, target the Japanese command post, artillery positions, and defensive works inside Yangon, execute carpet bombing! Remember, precise drops to minimize civilian casualties, but do not let any Japanese target escape!"

"Understood, Captain!"

"Number One crew, ready!"

"Number Two crew, heading correct, ready to drop at any moment!"

Through the radio, the pilots' voices came one after another, firm and without a hint of fear.

A young pilot clenched the bomb‑release lever and said to the co‑pilot beside him: "Brother, this is our first bombing of Yangon; we must be accurate and let the Little Devil taste the might of our Huaxia Air Force!"

The co‑pilot smiled and nodded, eyes fixed on the sight: "Don't worry, we've already aimed; those turtle‑brats hiding in shelters are useless, our bombs will blast them into the sky!"

Hearing their exchange, Song Yunfei added gravely: "Don't be careless; although the Japanese 5th Air Brigade has been wiped out and there's no aerial interception, we must stay alert, withdraw immediately after the drop, and William's P38 squadron will arrive shortly to cover us."

"Yes, Squadron Leader!"

"Understood, Captain!"

It turned out Song Yunfei's bombers took off from Taunggyi, while William's P38 fighter squadron launched from Mandalay; the differing distances to Yangon inevitably created a timing gap.

Tonggu Airport had not been repaired; as the Japanese detachment stationed there withdrew, they coordinated with Burmese volunteers to bomb the airport again.

Therefore Tonggu Airport was temporarily unusable, and William's fighter squadron could only take off from Mandalay.

This is why Song Yunfei brought only twelve P38 fighters as escort; it seemed reckless but actually reflected that the Japanese no longer possessed any air‑counterattack capability.

Earlier, the Japanese 5th Air Brigade in Myanmar had been completely annihilated by the Expeditionary Force's air force before the Mandalay campaign, and the few remaining aircraft had long withdrawn.

They could not threaten the bomber squadron at all, which is why they dared to advance so boldly alone and launch the air strike first.

Soon, the B25 bomber formation reached the skies over Yangon; once the aircraft steadied, Song Yunfei shouted over the radio: "Release! Begin release!"

At the instant the order was given, the crew pilots each pressed the bomb‑release lever,

Each B25 bomber could carry a dozen‑plus bombs; the forty‑eight bombers took turns dropping on Yangon in three‑three formations, group after group sweeping the city.

In an instant, hundreds of bombs rained down, covering Yangon's core district.

"Boom— Boom— Boom—"

A series of earth‑shaking explosions roared one after another, fire

Bombs hitting the city center instantly razed whole blocks of houses; the once‑orderly streets were blown open into massive craters, earth and debris spraying everywhere.

The sounds of collapsing walls, bomb explosions, and Japanese screams intertwined, forming a desperate death symphony.

The Western‑style buildings left from the British colonial era had once been Yangon's hallmark.

Now they could not escape either; the sturdy walls were ripped open by bombs, glazed tiles shattered and flew everywhere, the ornate decorations were burned to ash, leaving only broken walls struggling amid the inferno.

"Run!"

"China Air Force!"

"Help, I want to go home!"

"Mother!"

Inside the city, Japanese soldiers fled like startled birds under the bomb barrage; some were buried by collapsing buildings, some were blown to a bloody mess, and others curled in shelters, trembling so badly they lacked the courage even to lift their heads.

Iida Shojirou's command post also suffered a bomb strike, a huge hole ripped through the wall, and roof tiles cascaded down.

The staff scrambled to support Iida Shojirou, trying to move him to an underground shelter, but he remained where he stood, his gaze hollow as he stared at the flames outside, murmuring, "It's over, completely over…"

At this moment Iida Shojirou could feel the desperation the 18th Division faced in Mandalay, and Muta Kugou Lian also confronted Huaxia aircraft bombings with no recourse.

All Japanese anti‑aircraft weapons had almost all been shipped to the small islands in the Pacific.

Because they fought in Huaxia so smoothly, they knew Huaxia would have few fighters; even after the American Army later supplied some P40 fighter aircraft, their air force, with excellent pilots and existing planes, could still threaten the Flying Tigers.

Now it is different: the already understaffed Fifty-five Division on the ground, faced with a sky full of Huaxia bombers, is plunged into despair.