Bright Sword: The Flowers of War

Chapter 217 Unexpected Survival, First Thought of Death

Su Yaoyang saw Li Yunlong and Kong Jie off in Wutai County and then returned home. However, he was unaware that the news of the Shanxi militia's flight squadron severely damaging the Japanese Army Air Force was still spreading rapidly.

At the same time, he underestimated the enormous shock and far-reaching impact this victory would have on the whole of China at the time, especially on those Chinese Air Force pilots who had once fought in the skies but whose ambitions were now thwarted.

Since the Marco Polo Bridge Incident, China and Japan have officially entered a state of full-scale war.

Across the vast land of China, war raged, and countless lives were lost.

In that equally vast sky, the air forces of China and Japan also engaged in fierce aerial battles for the crucial air superiority.

In the early stages of the war, the Chinese Air Force, with the high morale and superb skills of its pilots, dealt a heavy blow to the once-invincible Japanese army and navy air forces.

However, the huge gap in national strength has caused the Chinese Air Force to lag far behind Japan in terms of the number and performance of aircraft, logistical support, and pilot recruitment.

After more than a year of brutal attrition warfare, the strength of the Chinese Air Force has suffered a devastating blow.

The Chinese Air Force, which once possessed more than 300 combat aircraft of various types, had its number of usable aircraft reduced to less than 40 by the end of 1938, of which only 27 were actually capable of taking off and fighting!

This is a heartbreaking number. Behind each number lies the fall of a warplane that once soared through the blue sky, and the sacrifice of one or more passionate pilots.

A large number of outstanding Chinese pilots sacrificed their lives in battles against Japanese air forces that outnumbered them several times over.

The surviving pilots, as well as the young pilots who had recently graduated from flight school and had not yet experienced large-scale air combat, were mostly forced to transfer to the "Chinese Air Force Officer School" (the famous Central Aviation School, which was established with the assistance of Americans) in Kunming, Yunnan, to receive further training, or rather, to preserve the seeds for future counterattacks.

This is actually a choice made out of necessity.

For those ace pilots who had fought bloody battles against the Japanese invaders in the blue sky and witnessed their comrades sacrifice themselves one by one in front of them, hiding in Kunming on the southwestern border, far from the front line, and continuing to carry out seemingly endless training and waiting was undoubtedly a huge torment.

They yearn for battle, for revenge, and to once again pilot warplanes to strike back at the invaders. But unfortunately, China today cannot even manufacture the screws for an airplane, let alone advanced aircraft.

Just then, an exciting piece of news, like a lightning bolt piercing the night, quickly spread throughout the country and reached the ears of the anxiously waiting pilots at the Kunming Flight School—the little-known Shanxi Militia Flight Squadron, outnumbered and outgunned, had shot down or damaged more than 20 Japanese warplanes over the Jiuqu River, achieving the greatest air victory for China since the Battle of Wuhan!
This news was a shot in the arm for the Chinese Air Force pilots who had long been disheartened and even hopeless about the prospects of air combat!

"Shanxi militia? Where did they get their planes? Where did they get their pilots? How could they fight such a brilliant battle?!"

"I heard they're using a new type of fighter jet, with very advanced performance!"

"Who were their pilots? Could they be... American volunteer pilots?"

"No matter who it is! As long as they can fight the Japanese devils! As long as they can win battles! They are great!"

Various speculations and discussions quickly spread among the pilots at the Kunming Flight School. The initial shock and disbelief were soon replaced by immense excitement and hope.

If they had previously harbored doubts about whether they could return to the skies and strike a decisive blow against the Japanese invaders, then this victory of the Shanxi Militia Flight Squadron undoubtedly gave them a clear signal—China's airspace had not yet completely fallen! There was still hope for China's resistance against Japan!
Kunming Flight School
On a somewhat dull afternoon, the pilot canteen at Kunming Flight School was filled with the aroma of food and the low murmur of students chatting.

Unlike the usual hustle and bustle and occasional laughter and shouting, the atmosphere in the cafeteria has been somewhat oppressive and anxious lately.

The defeat in the war, the heavy losses of the air force, and the constant stream of bad news from the front weighed heavily on the hearts of these proud sons of heaven.

Many of them were once soaring eagles in the blue sky, but now they are trapped in this corner of the southwest, undergoing repetitive and tedious training every day, watching helplessly as their beautiful land is ravaged by the Japanese invaders.

Cheng Rufeng, Feng Mingqian, and Ye Qiyuan were sitting at a table by the window, quietly eating simple food—brown rice, stir-fried vegetables, and a few slices of bland cured meat.

Such food was nothing new to these pilots who were used to a life of luxury, but the bitterness in their hearts could not be filled with food.

"Have you heard? In Shanxi, at Wutai Mountain... no, I mean Jiuqu River, the local militia fought a battle with the Japanese planes a few days ago and won a great victory!"

Ye Qiyuan ate a couple of mouthfuls of rice before finally breaking the silence. His young face showed a mixture of excitement and disbelief.

This news, like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, instantly created ripples at several nearby tables. Many pilots who were eating stopped eating, pricked up their ears, and looked in their direction.

Feng Mingqian put down his chopsticks, wiped his mouth, and his eyes gleamed with shrewdness: "Yes, I've heard about it too. It's said that the Shanxi militia's flight squadron uses a new American fighter called the P-47, which is extremely powerful and has utterly thrashed the Japanese planes, shooting down more than twenty of them in one go!"

"P-47? America's new plane?"

A murmur of surprise and discussion arose around them. For these pilots who dealt with airplanes every day, the words "new fighter jet" held a fatal attraction.

Cheng Rufeng frowned slightly and said in a deep voice, "Is the information reliable? The militia... where did they get these new planes? Moreover, being able to shoot down more than twenty Japanese planes is no joke."

"Even our regular air force would find it difficult to achieve such a record nowadays." His tone carried a hint of doubt, but also an undisguised longing.

"Absolutely true!" Ye Qiyuan patted his chest and assured him, "The news came from Chongqing. It's said that even the Chairman knows about it and has even commended that militia!"
Moreover, I've heard that the militia commander is named Su Yaoyang, a capable man who studied abroad. He's not only good at training troops but also at business, and he has excellent relationships with Americans, which is why he was able to acquire those good weapons!

“Su Yaoyang…” Cheng Rufeng murmured the name silently, a thoughtful look flashing in his eyes.

Just then, a young pilot at the next table, in his early twenties with a somewhat youthful face, couldn't help but interject, "Wow! A new monoplane! It's so much more advanced than the Hawk III, I-15, and I-16 we fly now! If I could touch one of those planes, I'd die happy!"

His words immediately drew a chorus of agreement from those around him.

"That's right! We're dealing with these outdated biplanes and those junks that the Soviets have phased out every day. Forget about fighting the Japanese, we're just grateful if they can even fly without breaking down!"

"Exactly! Back when I was fighting those Japanese devils in the sky, if I had a few good planes, so many brothers wouldn't have sacrificed themselves in vain!" An old pilot with several scars on his face, who looked like he had been through many fierce battles, slammed his hand on the table and said bitterly, his eyes reddening.

The atmosphere in the canteen suddenly became somewhat heated, yet also filled with resentment. The longing of these former air warriors for advanced fighter jets, and their frustration at not being able to engage in satisfying combat, all erupted at this moment.

Seeing this, Feng Mingqian's eyes lit up, and an idea came to him. He cleared his throat and raised his voice, saying, "Brothers, since everyone is so interested in the Shanxi militia and their new aircraft, I have a suggestion. I wonder if you would like to hear it?"

All eyes turned to Feng Mingqian.

Feng Mingqian smiled slightly and continued, "We're staying in Kunming now, and all we do every day is train, and we're flying some outdated old planes. To put it bluntly, we're just wasting our time and wearing down our willpower!"
Instead of waiting here in vain for who knows when we'll be able to equip ourselves with new planes, why don't we... go take a look at Mount Wutai in Shanxi... oh no, I mean the Jiuqu River area!"

"Go to Shanxi?!" This suggestion surprised everyone present.

Feng Mingqian continued calmly, "That's right! Go to Shanxi! Go see Su Yaoyang's militia! First, we can see with our own eyes how they win battles and learn from their advanced experience."

Secondly, who knows... we might even have a chance to get our hands on those P-47 fighter jets! Even just looking at them or touching them would be better than us just staring at the blueprints here, right?
Moreover, if Su Yaoyang is really as capable as the legends say, perhaps... he can even provide us experienced pilots with some real opportunities to fight the Japanese!

Feng Mingqian's words were like a bombshell, causing a stir among the pilots.

"Go to Shanxi to join the local militia? This...this won't do! We're regular air force personnel!" someone said hesitantly. "What are you afraid of! We're going to fight the Japanese! Not become traitors! Besides, the country is in such a state now, who cares about being regular or not! As long as we can kill the Japanese, we're heroes!" Ye Qiyuan immediately retorted, his young face full of heroic spirit.

Cheng Rufeng pondered for a moment before speaking, "Brother Feng's suggestion, though somewhat bold, is not without reason."

Everyone in our air force is aware of our current situation. Instead of sitting here waiting to die, we might as well go out and try our luck; perhaps we can find a new way out. Moreover, if that Shanxi militia is truly capable and willing to accept us, we can use our skills where they are truly needed.

Cheng Rufeng's words carried immense weight. As one of the most senior and prestigious ace pilots present, his statement undoubtedly reassured those who were still hesitant.

"Yes! Brother Cheng is right! We can't keep being so spineless!"

"Instead of fiddling with this junk here, we should go to Shanxi and find an opportunity to fly new planes and fight the Japanese!"

"Count me in! I've been itching to get back to work!"

In an instant, the canteen was filled with excitement, and volunteers flocked to the event. The frustration, resentment, and desire for battle that had been building up inside them found an outlet at this moment.

Once an idea is formed, it spreads like wildfire and can no longer be contained.

Soon, more than a dozen like-minded pilots began to take action.

Among these people are experienced veteran pilots as well as some young trainees who have performed well at flight school and are eager for real combat experience.

Of course, they also knew that leaving the regular air force of the Nationalist government to join a local militia was procedurally irregular and might even be considered "defection".

But they couldn't care less about that now. All they knew was that they would go wherever they could fight the Japanese and where they could make a difference. Soon they found their superior, Nie Zhiyuan, the principal of Kunming Flight School.

"Nonsense... This is utter nonsense! Do you even know what you're doing?"

The sound of Principal Nie Zhiyuan's angry curses came from the principal's office.

Nie Zhiyuan, who is 52 years old this year, is quite fat and usually has a smile on his face, but today his fat face is full of anger.

"Even if this news is true or false, how could a group of pilots travel thousands of kilometers to reach Shanxi? They might have been captured by the Japanese before they even got halfway there!"

Cheng Rufeng said firmly, "Principal, we have made up our minds. Whether you agree or not, we will leave the flight school and head to Shanxi to join Commander Su. Even if we die on the way, we will have no regrets."

"How dare you... Is this how you talk to your superiors?" The head of discipline was furious, slamming his hand on the table and reprimanding him.

Cheng Rufeng and his dozen or so colleagues remained silent, but their faces were filled with stubborn expressions, as if they would rather be executed than leave their homes in Shanxi.

The director was so angry that his body trembled.

"Alright, Lao Wang, don't be angry anymore." Nie Zhiyuan sighed, patted him on the shoulder, and then turned to Cheng Rufeng and the others, speaking seriously.

"Are you really determined to go to Shanxi?"

"Yes, Principal." Cheng Rufeng's expression was full of determination. "I still remember that when Captain Gao (Gao Zhihang) gave us our first lesson, he told us: As pilots, taking off is combat! If you don't expect to survive, think about dying first."

Now that Captain Gao has fulfilled his oath, it's our turn.

"headmaster!"

Feng Mingqian also stepped forward, "Actually, it's not just Captain Gao. Isn't our school motto the same? Do you still remember the school motto engraved at the entrance of the Hangzhou Jianqiao Central Aviation School?"

Before he could speak, the dozen or so pilots and trainees behind him chanted in unison: "Our bodies, our planes, and our bombs shall perish together with the enemy's warships and positions!"

As they read, many people began to burst into tears.

Throughout world history, the Chinese Air Force has the highest casualty rate and the shortest survival time.

In the early stages of the War of Resistance against Japan, the average lifespan of Chinese Air Force pilots was less than 6 months. By the end of 1938, more than 400 pilots had died in action, nearly half of whom were flight school graduates. The average lifespan of these pilots when they died was only 23 years.

These young people, mostly from wealthy families, fulfilled their vow with their lives: "We swear to die for our country and never return alive!"

American journalist Edgar Snow recorded it this way in "Red Star Over China":

"These young Chinese people knew that each takeoff could be their last, yet they still walked toward the fighter jet with smiles on their faces."

They piloted aircraft far inferior to those of the Japanese (such as the Hawk III, which had a top speed of only 360 km/h, while the Japanese Type 96 carrier-based aircraft had a top speed of 435 km/h), and charged towards the enemy aircraft without hesitation, choosing to perish together with their opponents.

"You...you bastards..." Nie Zhiyuan was so angry that his face turned red. He pointed at these audacious pilots and couldn't speak for a long time. Finally, he strode out of the office, leaving only a loud slamming sound as the door closed.

“Lawless… lawless…” The dean of students’ fingers trembled as he pointed at Cheng Rufeng and the others.

“You all only know how to feel sorry for those comrades and soldiers who sacrificed their lives, but little do you know that Principal Nie is in ten or a hundred times more pain than you are.”

Which of those pilots who sacrificed their lives wasn't the principal's student? You were able to take to the skies and avenge your comrades, but what about the principal?
He could only watch helplessly as his students died one by one on the battlefield. The torment he suffered was far greater than yours, yet you continue to rub salt into his wounds.

Seeing the headmaster unleashing a torrent of abuse, Cheng Rufeng and the others all lowered their heads and remained silent, letting tears stream down their faces.

After an unknown amount of time, the office door was pushed open again.

Nie Zhiyuan stepped forward again. This old man, who had devoted his life to the construction of the Chinese Air Force, glanced at the crowd and said indifferently, "I just obtained the contact information of the Shanxi Militia General Corps through the Second War Zone Command and sent them a telegram."

They called back quickly. "Commander Su Yaoyang promised to send a C-47 transport plane to pick you up in two days. Those of you who wish to go there should submit a report to me in the next two days, to travel to Shanxi 'in your personal capacity' to 'study' the advanced experience of the militia's flight squadron. Do you understand?"

Upon hearing this, everyone's eyes lit up, and they replied in unison, "We understand, sir! Thank you for your guidance!"

"Alright, stop standing here, you're annoying to look at. Get the hell out of here!"

"Yes... thank you for your guidance, Principal!"

The pilots ran outside while talking, and scattered in an instant...

(End of this chapter)