Bright Sword: The Flowers of War

Chapter 224 Ambush
Time flies, and in the blink of an eye, it has come to February 1940.

After more than a year of confrontation and development, the situation in Shanxi seems to have reached a delicate balance on the surface.

Although Yoshio Shinotsuka, commander of the Japanese First Army, hated the Shanxi militia and Su Yaoyang to the core, he was unable to launch a large-scale suppression operation due to insufficient troops and the complex regional situation.

Meanwhile, the Shanxi militia led by Su Yaoyang took advantage of this precious respite to develop and accumulate strength in Wutai Mountain, and made great progress, especially in the development of the air force.

Today is a memorable day for the Wutai County Flight Military Academy... The second batch of flight cadets from the Shanxi Militia Flight Brigade have officially graduated and will be assigned to various flight squadrons to become formal pilots.

Jinshaling Airport, unlike its usual somber and tense atmosphere, is now filled with a festive and solemn ambiance.

On the tarmac, rows of fighter jets and bombers painted with the insignia of the Republic of China were neatly arranged, gleaming with a cold metallic luster under the warm spring sun, like an iron legion about to set off.

A huge banner hung on the temporary platform in the center of the airport, with the eye-catching words "Warmly celebrate the successful graduation of the second batch of students from the Wutai County Flight Military Academy".

Below the podium, hundreds of young cadets, dressed in brand-new flight suits and wearing graduation badges, stood in neat rows, full of energy and high spirits.

Su Yaoyang was standing in the center of the podium at that moment.

He was dressed in a crisp, dark woolen military uniform, the gold triangular stars on his epaulets gleaming in the sunlight.

His gaze swept over the young, energetic faces below the stage, and his heart was filled with satisfaction and pride.

These young people are the future eagles of the Shanxi militia, the hope for defending this land and resisting invaders.

"Comrades! Trainees!"

Su Yaoyang's voice, clearly transmitted through the loudspeaker, resounded throughout the entire airport: "Today is a day that we should all remember!"
After rigorous training and strict examinations, you—the second batch of cadets from the Jinshaling Flight Military Academy—have successfully completed your studies and are about to embark on your respective combat posts, becoming proud members of our Shanxi militia's air force!

A burst of enthusiastic applause erupted from the audience, and the young trainees clapped along with their eyes sparkling with excitement.

Su Yaoyang raised his hand to signal everyone to be quiet, and continued in his infectious voice: "More than a year ago, when we built our first airport and had our first batch of aircraft here, many people did not believe that our local armed forces could truly build a powerful air force."

They laughed at us, saying it was wishful thinking, a futile attempt to stop a chariot! But today, you have proven to everyone through your hard work and sweat that we not only did it, we did it very well!

"We possess the 'Corsair' fighter jets that strike fear into the hearts of our enemies, the fierce and robust Thunder fighter jets, and the Dauntless dive bombers capable of precision strikes!"

Our pilots dealt heavy blows to the Japanese invaders in one air battle and ground support mission after another!

Past victories were just the beginning; in the future... we will achieve even greater victories!

“But!” Su Yaoyang’s tone changed and became serious. “I hope that my comrades will be soberly aware that the achievements we have made are far from enough!”
Our enemies remain powerful; they occupy vast swathes of our land and slaughter our compatriots! The burden on our shoulders is still heavy, the road ahead is long, and the battle will be even more brutal!

"I hope that in the battles to come, you will always remember your mission! Be brave and fearless, like eagles soaring in the sky, use your sharp claws and beaks to tear apart the enemy's lines, to defend our homeland, and to safeguard the dignity of our nation!"

As for you, I have only one request: to protect yourselves while bravely fighting the Japanese invaders and strive to survive.

I hereby announce that the second batch of cadets from the Wutai County Flight Military Academy are hereby granted graduation!

As soon as Su Yaoyang finished speaking, thunderous applause and cheers erupted from the audience once again!

After the graduation ceremony, Su Yaoyang did not leave the airport immediately. He found Doolittle, the chief instructor in charge of flight training at the military academy.

At this moment, Doolittle, though his temples were streaked with gray, was still in high spirits.

He was wearing the same flight suit as the trainees, except for a star badge on his shoulder that signified his instructor status. Seeing Su Yaoyang approach, he flashed his signature hearty smile.

"Sir, your speech today was fantastic! These lads were really moved!" Doolittle said in his slightly accented Chinese.

Su Yaoyang smiled and said, "Jimmy, this is all thanks to you. Without your and your instructor team's dedicated teaching, we couldn't have trained so many qualified pilots in such a short time."

The two walked side by side on the tarmac, watching the trainees gather in twos and threes, excitedly discussing their future assignments and battles.

Su Yaoyang pondered for a moment before asking, "Jimmy, do you think, with this batch of graduates, all our pilots combined, can we form a new flight squadron?"
As you know, that old devil Yoshio Shinotsuka hasn't made any major moves lately, but his troops are constantly lurking around our base areas, putting significant pressure on our air force. If we could add another air squadron, our air defense and offensive capabilities would be greatly enhanced.

Upon hearing Su Yaoyang's question, Doolittle's smile faded slightly. He stopped, turned around, and looked at Su Yaoyang with a serious and regretful expression.

“Sir… I understand your thinking, and I also very much hope to further expand our air power,” Doolittle sighed and said, “but, I’m afraid… it’s not possible right now.”

"Oh? Is it because there aren't enough planes? If that's the reason, don't worry, I'll find a way to bring over another batch," Su Yaoyang asked.

Doolittle gave him a meaningful look and shook his head: "It's not a problem with the plane. The main problem lies with... the pilot."

"Pilots?" Su Yaoyang was somewhat surprised. In his view, the flight academy had graduated two batches of students in the past year or so, and the number of pilots should have reached a certain scale. Expanding the flight squadron should not be a problem.

Dulit nodded and explained, "Yes, sir."

You may not be entirely clear about the number of pilots needed to form a full flight squadron, or the experience and skill requirements for those pilots.

He held up his finger and began to calculate carefully for Su Yaoyang: "Look, a standard fighter squadron usually consists of three to four squadrons, and each squadron needs at least twelve to sixteen pilots, not including reserve pilots and command personnel. In other words, a fully-staffed fighter squadron needs at least fifty to seventy qualified fighter pilots."

"And for a bomber squadron, the situation is even more complicated."

Medium bombers like the B-25 'Mitchell' require at least five to six crew members per aircraft, including a pilot, co-pilot, bombardier, navigator, communications officer, and gunner.

A bomber squadron with twelve aircraft requires sixty to seventy crew members. A bomber group similarly requires over a hundred specially trained crew members.

Doolittle paused, then continued, "Sir... including this year's graduates, our total number of pilots and crew members capable of carrying out combat missions is approximately six hundred."

"Six hundred people..." Su Yaoyang muttered the number to himself.

"Yes, six hundred people."

Doolittle said definitively, "That number sounds like a lot."

"But sir, we have already formed two fighter squadrons, namely the 'Pirate' squadron and the 'Thunder' squadron. In order to maintain combat effectiveness, these two squadrons are almost at full strength, and have already used nearly 150 of their most elite fighter pilots."

"In addition, we also have a bomber squadron commanded by Feng Mingqian."

Although this squadron didn't have as many aircraft as the fighter squadron, the large demand for crew members meant it still consumed nearly two hundred of our bomber crew members.

"Based on this calculation, two fighter squadrons and one bomber squadron have already used up about 350 of our core flight personnel."

The remaining approximately 250 pilots and crew members, some of whom are newly graduated students, need further in-service training and combat experience before they can truly take on the main responsibilities.
Another group serves as the reserve force for various squadrons, and undertakes auxiliary tasks such as reconnaissance, transportation, and communications. Yet another group serves as teaching assistants at flight academies or pursues higher-level training.

Doolittle shrugged, a hint of helplessness on his face: "So, sir, do you understand now? With our current total of about six hundred pilots, it's already a very, very difficult task to support the daily operations and training of two fighter squadrons and one bomber squadron."

If we want to form a new flight group, whether it's a fighter group or a bomber group, we face a severe shortage of pilots. It's like a piece of cloth; you cut it into several garments, and the leftover scraps are hardly enough to make a decent garment.

After listening to Doolittle's detailed explanation, Su Yaoyang fell silent. He had originally thought that with the graduation of the second batch of flight cadets, the air power of the Shanxi militia would experience a qualitative leap, and he could even consider forming more flight units to cope with the increasingly severe war situation. However, he did not expect that reality would be much harsher than he imagined.

The training of pilots is not something that can be accomplished overnight.

It requires rigorous selection, a long training period, and a large investment of resources. Especially in this era of war, training a qualified pilot who can adapt to brutal air combat is even more difficult.

It seems that while his blueprint for the air force is ambitious, the bottleneck in the number of pilots has become a key factor restricting its further development.

This is understandable, though. Despite his best efforts, he has only trained five or six hundred pilots in over a year, a number that is negligible compared to the world's leading powers.

It's worth noting that during World War II in another timeline, the Soviet Union had over 300,000 pilots.

As the world's leading industrial power, the United States could train 1.1 pilots (including pilots and bombardiers) every month. This is why, towards the end of World War II, while Germany and Japan had almost completely wiped out their pilots, American pilots continued to emerge from their assembly-line flight schools, flying fighter planes and overwhelming Japan and Germany. Compared to these industrial powers, the air force that Su Yaoyang had assembled was not even worthy of comparison.

Just as Su Yaoyang was scratching his head in frustration, a communications officer rushed up to Su Yaoyang and Doolittle, panting heavily. Before he could even salute, he reported breathlessly:

"Commander...Commander! Instructor Doolittle! Something terrible has happened! Something...something has gone wrong!"

Su Yaoyang's heart sank. From the extreme panic in the communications officer's expression, he already sensed that something was wrong. He tried his best to keep his voice calm and asked in a deep voice, "Don't panic! Tell me slowly, what exactly happened?"

The communications officer gasped for breath, his voice trembling with tears, and said urgently, "It's...it's the 'Thunder' Squadron! They...their four-plane patrol squadron, while...while on a routine patrol mission, encountered...encountered an ambush by a large number of Japanese warplanes!"

"What?" Su Yaoyang and Doolittle exclaimed almost simultaneously, their expressions instantly turning extremely serious.

The "Thunder" squadron, uniformly equipped with P-47 "Thunder" fighter jets, together with the "Pirate" squadron, guarded the airspace of Wutai County, Xiangding and other areas in eastern Shanxi.

The Thunder Squadron, with its members including One-Eyed Jack, Tom, and other American mercenary pilots, was arguably even stronger than the Pirate Squadron.

Normally, the Thunder Squadron's routine patrol missions usually involve guarding the perimeter of their territory to prevent Japanese aircraft from infiltrating for reconnaissance or launching surprise attacks. Unexpectedly, they were attacked by Japanese aircraft.

The communications officer's voice was broken by fear and anxiety: "The report says... our patrol squad, in... in the northeast direction of the base, approximately... approximately over Hunyuan County, was suddenly... surrounded and attacked by at least a dozen Japanese fighter planes! The enemy... the enemy numbers are too many!"

More than ten Japanese fighter planes! While our side only has four!
This was an encounter battle where the disparity in strength was extremely great!
Su Yaoyang pressed on with a grim face, "How's the battle going? What about our casualties?!"

The communications officer's lips trembled as he struggled to speak: "In the fierce...fierce battle, our pilots...they...they were very brave...successfully shot down an enemy plane...but...but we ourselves...we ourselves also lost two...two planes..."

"Two planes were shot down!"

This news struck Su Yaoyang and Doolittle like a bolt from the blue!

Two P-47 Thunderbolt fighter jets mean at least two pilots... who may already be...

Su Yaoyang clenched his fists. He had just been worried about the shortage of pilots, and in the blink of an eye, he might lose two precious pilots forever! This sudden blow made him almost unable to stand.

Doolittle's face was also grim. He knew all too well how difficult it would be to break through the encirclement of more than ten enemy planes when outnumbered! Shooting down even one enemy plane would be nothing short of a miracle!

"Then... what about the remaining two?!" Su Yaoyang asked anxiously, suppressing his grief and anxiety.

"The remaining... the remaining two... are also... also seriously damaged... They... they are struggling... struggling to return to the airport! Communication... communication is intermittent... the last contact... they said... they would do their best... do their best to fly back..." The communications officer's voice was already choked with sobs.

This news was like a bucket of ice water poured on a cold winter day, instantly extinguishing all the joy and excitement brought by the recent graduation ceremony.

The young students around them, who were still immersed in the joy of graduation, also heard this devastating news.

The smiles on their faces froze instantly, replaced by shock, anger, and disbelief.

Just moments ago they were dreaming of piloting fighter jets soaring through the blue sky, but in the blink of an eye, cruel reality was laid bare before them in such a bloody way.

The atmosphere at the airport instantly became oppressive and heavy.

"Immediately notify the control tower! Closely monitor the signals of the returning aircraft! All ground support units! Ambulances! Fire trucks! All go on high alert! Stand by the runway!"

Su Yaoyang forced himself to calm down and quickly issued a series of instructions. His voice was somewhat hoarse as he tried his best to suppress his emotions.

"Yes, sir!" The communications officer accepted the order and turned to run off.

Doolittle took a deep breath and said in a low voice, "Sir, let's go wait for them by the runway."

Su Yaoyang nodded, and the two of them walked heavily toward the main track.

The news quickly spread throughout the airport. The newly graduated students, as well as the ground crew, security personnel, and even some flight instructors who rushed to the scene, spontaneously flocked to both sides of the runway.

They stood silently, each face etched with anxiety and anticipation. A suffocating tension hung in the air.

Everyone held their breath, their eyes fixed on the northeastern sky, waiting for the two fighter jets, whose fates were unknown, to appear.

Time passed minute by minute, and each second seemed as long as a century.

The sun was still shining brightly, but it offered no warmth to the people. Only the howling wind whipped the airport flags, making a whistling sound.

About ten minutes later.

"Look! What's that?!" Suddenly, someone in the crowd exclaimed, pointing to the northeastern horizon.

All eyes turned to that direction!

Against the backdrop of the azure sky, two tiny black dots were slowly and laboriously moving toward the airport.

As the distance closed, the outlines of the two black dots gradually became clearer.

It's a P-47 "Thunderbolt"! It's their own plane!

However, the condition of those two planes made everyone's hearts clench!
They flew very low and very slowly, with intermittent black smoke billowing from their fuselages, like two wounded dragons stubbornly trying to return to their lair.

The left wing of one of the planes was riddled with holes, with a large chunk missing from the wingtip. The fuselage was covered in bullet holes, and in some places the skin had peeled off, revealing the menacing metal skeleton inside.

The other plane was in no better shape; its engine also appeared to be severely damaged, emitting irregular, unsettling hissing sounds, and its tail trailed a thick plume of black smoke, leaving a horrifying trail in the sky.

"It's them! They're back! They really flew back!" A suppressed cheer erupted from the crowd, but most people remained heavy-hearted.

The two fighter jets, which looked like they had struggled out of hell, clumsily approached the airport runway one after the other and began to land.

Everyone's heart was in their throat!

"Squeak—Boom—"

The first "Raiden," which sustained relatively minor damage, made a screeching sound from its landing gear the moment it touched the runway, and the fuselage shook violently a few times before finally coming to a stop without serious injury.

Immediately afterwards, the second, more badly damaged "Thunderbolt" also made a perilous landing on the runway. One of its landing gears appeared to be damaged, and after landing, the fuselage tilted sharply to one side, leaving a long trail of sparks on the runway, before finally coming to a stop in the middle of the runway with a screeching metallic creak.

As soon as the planes came to a stop, the ambulances and fire trucks that had been waiting on the runway sped off like arrows, sirens blaring and flashing red and blue lights, towards the two smoke-belching fighter jets!
Firefighters quickly jumped out of the vehicle, raised high-pressure water cannons, and began spraying foam and water mist onto the smoking parts of the plane to prevent an explosion and fire.

The pilots, who had been waiting nearby, rushed to the cockpit of the aircraft as quickly as possible.

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, the two pilots were carefully lifted out of the cockpit.

Their flight suits were stained with oil and blood, their faces were as pale as paper, and one of them had his arm hanging limply at his side, clearly seriously injured. The other had his eyes tightly closed, seemingly unconscious.

But they are all still alive!

As the two pilots were quickly lifted onto stretchers and sent to ambulances, and as the two battered and nearly wrecked fighter jets were seen, everyone at the airport fell silent.

The joy and high aspirations brought by the recent graduation ceremony were shattered by the harsh reality at this moment.

War is not a rousing speech, nor a perfectly orderly formation, but a sacrifice of blood and lives, a sacrifice that can happen every day.

"Let's go...to the command post..." Su Yaoyang said, then led the way towards the control tower...

(End of this chapter)