Bright Sword: The Flowers of War

Chapter 247 White-hot

In the morning, the sky over Hubei was clear and blue, and the sun shone brightly.

For the soldiers who had endured too much mud and rain, this was a rare treat.

But for the 33rd Army Group in the Nanguadian area, this clear sky foreshadowed their impending death.

Buzz... Buzz...

Like an endless swarm of locusts flapping their wings, the distinctive, heart-pounding roar of engines came from the eastern horizon.

The Japanese 3rd Air Regiment of Kuwana, along with its attached 44th and 77th Light Bomber Squadrons, formed a massive air strike group of over a hundred bombers and fighters. Like vultures circling over the corpses, they flew over Pumpkin Shop, blotting out the sun.

There were no warnings, no tests.

The next second, countless black dots broke off from under the fuselage, whistling sharply like hail from the Grim Reaper, crashing down on the Nationalist army's positions.

"Boom...boom..."

The earth trembled violently, groaned, and was torn apart.

Huge mushroom clouds, filled with black smoke and flames, rose one after another on the battlefield.

Soil, gravel, broken guns, and pieces of human flesh were thrown high into the sky and then fell like rain of blood.

The sturdy fortifications collapsed like paper in the explosion, the trenches were razed to the ground, and countless Chinese soldiers who were holding their ground were vaporized or buried alive in the violent explosion before they could even scream.

In an instant, the entire Pumpkin Shop area was engulfed in thick smoke and flames soared into the sky, as if it had been transformed into a living hell.

And this is just the beginning.

Accompanied by the roar of airplanes in the sky, tens of thousands of troops from the Japanese Third and Thirteenth Divisions surged up on the horizon like a tide.

Treading on the scorched earth left by their own bombing raids, carrying gleaming Type 38 rifles, they roared like wild beasts as they launched a desperate charge towards the still burning and trembling Nationalist army positions.

"kill……"

"Hold on! Hold on for me!"

Before the smoke of battle had even cleared, the surviving Nationalist soldiers crawled out of their bombed-to-the-bone bunkers.

They were covered in dust and blood, many of them still had ringing ears and couldn't hear anything, but they still roared and fired wildly at the surging enemy with their Hanyang and Zhongzheng rifles.

The distance between the two sides is rapidly closing.

500 meters, 300 meters, 100 meters...

When bullets could no longer stop the Japanese army's charge, a most primitive and bloody close-quarters battle erupted on this land of tens of square kilometers.

The sounds of bayonets piercing flesh, the dull cracking of entrenching tools splitting skulls, the tearing of flesh and blood as a broadsword severed a neck, the booming of grenades exploding in the crowd, the savage roars and dying screams of soldiers grappling with each other... all these sounds blended together to form a mad and cruel symphony of death.

Within this confined area, over 100,000 troops from both China and Japan fought like two colossal beasts locked in an arena, engaging in the most brutal battle. Every second, hundreds and thousands of lives were lost.

Blood soaked the scorched earth, pooling into streams that flowed slowly through the craters and gullies.

In the afternoon, Zhang Zizhong knew there was no hope of breaking through. He couldn't understand why the Japanese planes seemed to have eyes and could hit the target so accurately.

By afternoon, the bloody battle had been going on for several hours.

The land of Pumpkin Shop was completely stained red with the blood of both sides, and the air was filled with a nauseating smell of blood, gunpowder, and the stench of burning corpses.

General Zhang Zizhong knew that breaking out was completely hopeless.

The Japanese offensive was like a mad dog, wave after wave, regardless of casualties.

The planes in the sky were like leeches, relentlessly pursuing his command post and troop assembly point, dropping bombs with terrifying precision, as if they had eyes.

He was unaware that this was because the Japanese army had deployed their newest radio direction finding teams specifically to target his radio signals and guide the bombing.

Now, the last remaining force around him—the guard battalion—has been completely poured into the front-line positions, this blood and flesh grinder.

He stepped out of the trench, half-shaved off by artillery fire, and stood on a small hill. Beneath his feet lay layers upon layers of corpses, those of both enemy and friendly soldiers.

He squinted, gazing at the sky shrouded in thick smoke and the shadows of fighter jets. His expression showed no fear, only endless weariness and a hint of composure.

Suddenly, a violent explosion rang out not far away, and the shockwave swept in carrying shrapnel and debris. Zhang Zizhong felt a numbness in his body, and in a dizzying moment, he fell backward onto the hillside.

"General!"

His bodyguards, terrified, rushed over and helped him up. Zhang Zizhong's face and body were covered in mud and someone's blood; a shrapnel bullet had grazed his forehead, and warm blood streamed down his cheek, blurring his vision. He shook his head and asked urgently in a hoarse voice:
"The guard battalion... how is the guard battalion?"

The bodyguard supporting him, a young man in his early twenties, with tears and blood on his face, answered in a choked voice, "Commander Du... he... he's already dead... the Japanese have completely surrounded us, General... here... here only the last of our guard platoon are left..."

Upon hearing this news, a flicker of pain flashed in Zhang Zizhong's fierce eyes. He sighed softly, and in that sigh...

Just as he was about to say something, a familiar, hateful engine roar came from afar and rang out again.

Two Japanese Type 97 light bombers, like two eagles that have spotted their prey, lowered their altitude and swooped down directly toward their small hillside.

The machine guns under the wings had already begun to spew fire, bullets whizzing over their heads and kicking up plumes of dust on the ground.

"Sir, watch out!"

Without the slightest hesitation, the young guard roared and lunged forward, shielding Zhang Zizhong with his own body.

Zhang Zizhong closed his eyes, preparing to face his final moment.

However, the expected explosion did not occur.

At that critical moment, a completely different, higher-pitched, and more rapid engine roar suddenly rang out in the sky!
"Whoosh... Buzz..."

It sounded like a roar tearing the sky apart.

Zhang Zizhong and his guards looked up sharply and saw two F4U "Corsair" fighter planes painted in sky-blue ocean camouflage with menacing shark mouths on their noses. Like two blue lightning bolts, they swooped down from the clouds at incredible speed and instantly caught up with the two Japanese bombers that were strafing them!

"Da da da da da da..."

The six 12.7mm heavy machine guns at the wing roots of the Corsair fighter opened fire simultaneously, emitting a terrifying roar like a chainsaw cutting through metal!
Six blazing trails of tracer bullets lashed out in the air like dazzling yet deadly whips, striking the two clumsy Japanese bombers with pinpoint accuracy.

Almost instantly, the fuselages and wings of the two Japanese bombers were torn open with countless large holes, and the engine of one of them exploded in mid-air, turning into a fireball.

The other plane, trailing a long plume of smoke, spun out of control and crashed headlong into a distant Japanese position, triggering a series of massive explosions.

At this moment, the sky seemed to fall silent.

Zhang Zizhong and his bodyguards were stunned as they stared at the two sky-blue fighter jets that looked like gods descending to earth in the sky, and at the Japanese bomber that crashed and burst into flames in the distance.

They tilted their heads back, mouths agape, their minds blank, forgetting that they were still on a battlefield strewn with corpses and blood.

Not only them, but at that moment, the frenzied fighting on the entire Pumpkin Shop battlefield seemed to freeze for a moment. Countless Chinese and Japanese soldiers who were fighting to the death all raised their heads and looked at this sudden change.

After a brief silence, the Nationalist army's position erupted in a tremendous, euphoric cheer, as if they had survived a catastrophe!
"Reinforcements! It's our plane!"

"Our air force brothers have come to our rescue!"

"Brothers, charge! Our reinforcements have arrived!"

The pent-up morale finally erupted like a volcano at this moment!

Amidst the deafening cheers, more miracles began to unfold. From higher in the clouds, one, two, ten, twenty… more and more “Pirate” fighter jets, painted in sky-blue ocean camouflage and adorned with menacing shark mouths, appeared above Pumpkin Shop like divine warriors emerging from the gates of heaven!

This massive fleet of aircraft was the "Pirate" flight squadron of the Shanxi militia, personally led by Cheng Rufeng!
The entire group consisted of two fully-manned Corsair fighter squadrons and one Dauntless dive bomber squadron, totaling more than sixty aircraft!

"All fighter squadrons, free hunt! Shoot down all the Japanese flags in the sky!" Cheng Rufeng sat in his plane and issued a concise and cold order over the radio.

At a command, the massive aircraft formation instantly dispersed.

Dozens of F4U Corsair fighters, like hungry eagles spotting a flock of chickens, roared and charged at the massive Japanese aircraft formation that was still in a daze in the sky with unparalleled speed and ferocity!
The sky instantly transformed into the most brutal meat grinder!

Before the Japanese pilots could recover from the shock of the surprise attack, they were completely engulfed by the oncoming storm.

The F4U's formidable climb performance, terrifying dive speed, and devastating firepower comprised of six 12.7mm heavy machine guns were on full display at this moment.

Just as a Japanese pilot pushed the control stick in an attempt to turn his plane around to engage the enemy, a string of blazing tracer bullets pierced his cockpit, tearing him and his aircraft to shreds in mid-air.

On the other side, a squadron of six "Corsair" bombers, like a trident, fiercely plunged into a formation of Type 97 light bombers.

They were like tigers among sheep; each short burst of fire accurately destroyed the engine or fuel tank of a Japanese bomber, turning it into a dazzling cloud of fireworks.

The entire sky was filled with countless crisscrossing tracer rounds, the flashes of exploding planes, and the long trails of black smoke from crashing aircraft. Fighter jets from both sides engaged in the fiercest chase and battle in the clouds, at low altitudes, and above everyone's heads.

The battle went straight into a fierce stage from the very beginning!

(End of this chapter)