Chapter 535: Lightning Strike Yangon (9)

These small boats can withdraw at this time; there must be some important figure on board.

William's gaze hardened, his tone firm, and he immediately ordered over the radio, "All units, attention! First Platoon, Second Platoon, follow me. The target is the Japanese gunboats fleeing the port; we must crush them all, no ship left alive!"

"The remaining Platoons continue to patrol above the city, ready to support ground forces and prevent any remaining Japanese troops from breaking through!"

"Copy! First Platoon, understood!"

"Second Platoon, stay close to the lead aircraft!"

Over the radio, the pilots of each Platoon responded in succession, their tones full of fighting spirit. William was the first to push the control stick,

the fighter surged forward like an arrow released from a bow, diving toward the harbor's sea surface; the machine guns on both wings glinted with a cold sheen, ready to fire at any moment.

Chen Ping piloted a wingman aircraft, staying tightly behind William.

The remaining P38 Lightning fighters of the First and Second Platoons formed a tight combat formation, following closely and constituting a powerful aerial force that raced toward the Japanese gunboats.

No one knew that these seemingly inconspicuous gunboats were carrying Japanese 15th Army commander Iida Shojiro.

At this moment, Iida Shojiro had long lost his former authority, his whole body weak.

Iida Shojiro's complexion was as pale as paper, his eyes hollow, muttering continuously, "It's over, completely over… Yangon is gone, the 15th Army is gone, I'm finished…"

He was supported by two guards, one on each side, his steps staggering, lacking the strength even to stand, and was dragged by the guards, struggling to board the largest of the gunboats.

The guards looked panicked, supporting Iida Shojiro while urging the crew to speed up: "Faster! Even faster! We must leave Yangon quickly and shake off the China Expeditionary Force's pursuit!"

They knew clearly that if the Expeditionary Force caught up, death would await; only by fleeing to the sea and heading for Singapore could they have a sliver of hope.

In fact, Iida Shojiro had long prepared for escape.

As the Pacific war intensified, the Japanese Navy's maritime forces in Myanmar were heavily redeployed.

The destroyers and cruisers originally stationed at Yangon port had already been transferred to the Pacific Theater to support the fighting there.

What remained at the port were only a few small gunboats and transport ships, mainly for moving supplies, with no decent anti‑air or combat capability.

Facing the Expeditionary Force's fierce assault, after Mandalay fell.

Iida Shojiro knew Yangon could not be held; his only thought was to seize the chaos, board a gunboat, flee to Singapore, and seek Terauchi Hisaichi's protection.

The gunboat slowly left the dock, racing full speed toward the sea; the engine's roar grew louder, and the hull cut a long wake across the water.

Iida Shojiro slumped in the gunboat's cabin, watching Yangon city recede outside the window, his heart filled with despair and resentment.

He recalled the grand vows he made when marching to Myanmar, and the glory of once commanding the Imperial Japanese Army to sweep across Myanmar.

Seeing his current ragged flight, a massive wave of regret surged within him.

Had he not underestimated the China Expeditionary Force, had he not rushed for success, perhaps he would not have met this fate.

"Commander, we have left the port and have not yet detected any Expeditionary Force pursuit. Hold on a bit longer, and we can get away from Yangon and reach Singapore safely," a guard said cautiously, trying to console the desperate Iida Shojiro.

But Iida Shojiro only shook his head, his eyes still hollow; he knew the Expeditionary Force was too powerful, and escaping to Singapore would not be easy.

He could not understand how the Expeditionary Force had suddenly become so formidable.

The only consolation was that the Expeditionary Force's weapons came from the United States, and only that explanation could make sense of why the Chinese army had become so strong.

At that moment, the roar of fighter aircraft echoed from the sky, growing nearer; the shrill rumble instantly threw the Japanese soldiers on the gunboat into panic.

"Bad! Those are China Expeditionary Force fighters!" a Japanese soldier shouted, pointing upward, his voice trembling with fear.

Everyone looked up, seeing several P38 Lightning fighters swooping down like fierce eagles.

The machine guns on both wings were already trained on the gunboats below; sunlight struck the fighters' fuselages, giving them a cold metallic sheen that sent chills down the spine.

William, piloting the lead aircraft, was the first to lock onto the gunboat carrying Iida Shojiro; his gaze sharp as an eagle, he hesitated not and decisively pressed the fire button.

"Open fire freely!"

"Tat tat tat—"

The 20mm machine cannons on both wings instantly spewed flames, the dense bullets raining onto the gunboat, striking its hull.

A "ding‑ding‑dang‑dang" clanged, sparks flew, and soon countless bullet holes peppered the hull.

"Quick! Evade! Turn now!" the gunboat's captain shouted in panic, desperately maneuvering to avoid the fighters' attack.

But the gunboat's speed was far inferior to the P38 Lightning, making it impossible to dodge the dense fire.

Chen Ping, piloting a wingman, stayed behind William and launched an attack on another gunboat, his machine‑gun rounds striking the boat's engine with precision.

"Boom—" a massive blast, the engine exploded instantly, belching thick black smoke; the gunboat lost power and drifted slowly on the sea.

The Japanese soldiers on board leapt into the sea to flee, but were struck one by one by the following bullets, plunging into the water never to surface again.

William gave the gunboat carrying Iida Shojiro no respite; he adjusted his aircraft's angle and pressed the fire button again.

This time, a 20mm round pierced the gunboat's cabin flawlessly, striking the slumped Iida Shojiro inside.

Iida Shojiro's death was gruesome; the bullet tore through his chest, ejecting a spray of blood, leaving a gaping hole, his upper body turning into a cloud of blood mist.

He didn't even have time to scream; his body instantly went limp, collapsing onto the cabin floor, his eyes void of light, fully reduced to a war casualty.

"Battalion Commander, target hit! That gunboat's engine is destroyed!"

Chen Ping's voice came over the radio, his tone brimming with excitement.

William gave a slight nod, his gaze sweeping over the gunboats on the sea.

The gunboat carrying Iida Shojiro was riddled with bullet holes, its engine belching thick black smoke.

The hull began to tilt, sinking toward the sea; the Japanese soldiers aboard were either killed or leapt into the water, yet none escaped annihilation.

William was unaware that the gunboat he was striking carried Japanese 15th Army commander Iida Shojiro.

"Continue the attack! Ensure every gunboat is destroyed, no survivors!" William ordered over the radio, then pushed the control stick again, his fighter looping around to strike another fleeing gunboat.

The P38 Lightning's machine guns roared continuously, gunboats on the sea being hit one after another; explosions flared up and down, black smoke billowed, turning the sea into a blackened expanse.

A few minutes later, all the Japanese gunboats on the sea were destroyed—some blown up outright, others losing power and sinking slowly; every Japanese soldier aboard was annihilated, none surviving.

William, piloting his fighter, circled the sea once, confirming no survivors, then over the radio said, "All units, attention! Japanese gunboats have been completely destroyed, target cleared, First and Second Platoons return to formation, continue patrolling over Yangon city to support ground forces!"

"Copy!" the pilots of each Platoon responded in unison, then the fighter formation adjusted course, flying toward the skies above Yangon city.

On the sea, only floating gunboat wreckage, Japanese corpses, and scattered weapons remained; the water was stained crimson, a breeze carried a sharp scent of blood, telling the world of the battle's brutality.