Bright Sword: The Flowers of War

Chapter 337 Extreme joy leads to sorrow
The piercing alarm shattered the tranquility of Mengxian Airport, the sharp sound waves like an invisible whip, lashing at everyone's nerves.

The once quiet pilots' rest area erupted in chaos. Doors were slammed open one after another, and many pilots, some wearing only vests and shorts, or even shirtless, rushed out, cursing as they ran, while quickly putting on their flight suits.

"Hurry up and board the plane! Hurry up and board the plane! Emergency mission!"

On the ground, shouts from ground crew echoed throughout.

The rows of P-51 Mustang fighter jets standing quietly on the tarmac were now surrounded by people.

The ground crew, like worker ants whose nest had been disturbed, swarmed out from every corner, pushing ammunition carts and refueling hoses, and rushed to their respective fighter jets, quickly carrying out final checks and arming operations.

The roar of engines began to rise and fall, the propellers churning up huge air currents that made the sand and gravel on the ground crackle.

As the captain of the third squadron, Lu Guangbiao had already rushed to the front.

He personally climbed onto the nose of his vehicle to check the engine's condition.

He had just snapped the nose cap shut and quickly screwed on the locking pin, preparing to jump off the wing, when he felt his sleeve being suddenly grabbed from behind.

He turned around impatiently, and a young, eager face came into view—it was Song Shaojie.

His eyes sparkled in the sunlight, like two burning stars, gazing at him expectantly.

"Squad leader, could you... take me with you?" Song Shaojie's voice trembled slightly with excitement and nervousness, but his eyes were unusually firm.

"you?"

Lu Guangbiao stopped moving, his brows furrowing tightly. He sized up the young man before him, a fierce internal struggle churning within him.

This kid has only been in the brigade for two days.

Over the past two days, I personally took him on two acclimatization training flights.

It must be admitted that Song Shaojie has quite a talent. In just two days, he was already able to pilot this fierce "Mustang" fighter jet and conduct simple joint formation flights. His flight maneuvers were also very smooth and stable.

It's clear that he has a very solid foundation in the basics of flight school.

but……

Lu Guangbiao's expression became complicated.

Training and actual combat are two completely different things.

Bullets whistling through the sky, shells exploding around you, your comrades' final screams over the radio... the psychological pressure is incomparable to that of target practice on the training ground.

A novice pilot, when facing real death for the first time, is likely to make a fatal mistake due to nervousness.

Are we really going to take him to the battlefield like this...?

Lu Guangbiao's mind flashed back to the stern face of Captain Ye Qifeng and Su Yaoyang's order, "No special treatment allowed."

But giving orders is one thing, and reality is another. If something really happens to this kid, I'm afraid I'll be in big trouble.

Not only was he unable to explain to the First Madam, but more importantly, he didn't want to see a talented young man perish on the battlefield before he even had a chance to shine.

Seemingly sensing Lu Guangbiao's hesitation, Song Shaojie stepped forward, his face pleading:

"Don't worry, Squadron Leader, I know I'm a newbie, and I definitely won't do anything reckless." He spoke very quickly, as if afraid the other party would refuse at any moment. "I promise, I promise to obediently follow behind you and be your wingman. I'll do whatever you ask me to do, and I'll never cause you any trouble!"

Looking at the pleading and longing in Song Shaojie's eyes, Lu Guangbiao couldn't help but recall his first time on the battlefield. The excitement and nervousness he felt were so similar to those of the young man before him.

Young eagles must eventually leave the nest and fly into the sky. Rather than letting them lose their edge on the training field, it's better to let them learn to fly in the real storm.

Finally, Lu Guangbiao let out a heavy sigh, and his tightly furrowed brows relaxed.

He raised his hand, pointed to the Mustang fighter jet next to him, which was also undergoing final checks and had the serial number "0567" painted on its fuselage, and said in a deep voice:
"Alright! You'll drive the one over there. But remember this!"

His tone suddenly turned stern, "During the battle, you must stay close to me! Do not act rashly without my orders! Do you understand?"

"understand!"

Song Shaojie's eyes instantly reddened with excitement, overwhelmed by a surge of joy. He nodded vigorously with all his might, as if he wanted to break his neck.

"Then why are you still standing there!"

Lu Guangbiao glared at him and shouted in the tone of a veteran reprimanding a new recruit, "Have you forgotten the pre-flight checks for pilots? Go now!"

"Yes!"

Without uttering another word, Song Shaojie abruptly released his grip, turned around, and charged towards the 0567 fighter jet.

Like other experienced pilots, he began to walk around the aircraft, working with the ground crew to carefully check every component, including the fuselage, wings, landing gear, and ammunition racks.

The atmosphere on the tarmac was tense yet orderly.

Ground crew pushed heavy ammunition carts, carefully loading bombs one by one onto the belly and under the wings of the Mustang fighter planes using manual winches.

The fuel lines on the refueling truck made a "gurgling" sound as they continuously injected high-octane aviation fuel into the aircraft's fuel tanks.

As various inspection tasks were completed one after another, the cockpit canopies of the fighter jets began to close.

The roar of the engines blended into a deafening symphony, and the wind whipped up by the propellers sent sand and stones flying all over the airport.

"Third Squadron, prepare for takeoff!"

"Roger that!"

Under the control tower's direction, Lu Guangbiao's aircraft was the first to taxi out of its parking position and onto the runway.

Following closely behind was aircraft number 0567, piloted by Song Shaojie.

With the engine at full power, the fighter jet taxied rapidly on the runway, and finally, with its nose raised, it roared into the dark night sky like a falcon that had broken free of its restraints.

Immediately afterwards, one Mustang fighter jet after another and B-25 bombers, like steel behemoths awakened, took off one after another.

After forming up in the air, they quickly adjusted their direction and flew off into the distance.

Long flights can make pilots feel bored and depressed.

The engines of the P-51 Mustang fighter roared monotonously and continuously in the dark night sky, the fuselage trembled slightly in the airflow, and the warm sunlight shone through the flight suits onto the skin of each pilot.

Outside the cockpit, the sun hung high in the sky, casting an orange glow that illuminated the pilots' focused yet weary faces. After flying for more than half an hour, the formation began to reach the designated airspace.

The thin mist in the mountains, like a veil, entwines the rolling hills and ridges, making the world below appear hazy and unreal.

Lu Guangbiao piloted the aircraft that served as the lead plane, lowering the altitude slightly, the wings cutting through the damp morning mist.

He glanced at the flight path map fixed to his leg, then looked up to compare it with the winding terrain below. The rugged dirt roads, the scattered farmland, and the thatched roofs dotting the mountains like mushrooms all flashed by before his eyes.

No doubt, this is the area around Tathagata Cave.

He pushed the flight path aside, gripped the control stick tightly with both hands, and focused intently on searching the ground.

He began to concentrate on searching for targets on the ground.

Before they arrived, the battalion commander had already briefed them on the mission: the Japanese 27th Division suddenly launched a surprise attack on the 83rd Army of the Jin-Sui Army from the Yuhua Cave and Rulai East area, causing the 83rd Army's more than 20,000 men to be routed in just a few hours.

The 27th Division has now broken through the area around Rulai Cave and Yuhua Cave and is advancing towards Xinkou. Once the 27th Division reaches Xinkou and forms an encirclement with the Japanese 4th Division against the 129th Division and 61st Army of the Eighth Route Army, then the situation will be hopeless.

Therefore, their air force's mission was to snipe the Japanese army at all costs and hold them off until reinforcements arrived.

As Lu Guangbiao pondered, a few wisps of black smoke, still quite conspicuous in the morning mist, rose from a distant mountain valley, catching his attention. He immediately changed direction and flew towards the black smoke.

As the distance closed, the outline of a village gradually became clearer to the east of the plane. Those wisps of black smoke were rising from the village, and several houses on both sides of the main road at the village entrance were burning fiercely, the orange-red flames dancing wildly in the gray-white morning light, greedily devouring the wooden beams.

That's right, it's this highway!
Lu Guangbiao's pupils suddenly contracted. From an altitude of three thousand meters, the road nestled between the mountains, though narrow, was clearly visible through the tawny forest, resembling a winding yellow snake.

At this very moment, on this long yellow snake, countless tiny black dots are slowly and steadily wriggling—that is the Japanese army's marching column!
Trucks, mules, soldiers carrying rifles... a dense, endless line.

Behind Lu Guangbiao, Song Shaojie piloted fighter jet number 0567, closely following the lead aircraft.

When he looked in the direction Lu Guangbiao's plane was pointing and saw the burning village and the endless enemy troops on the highway, his heart skipped a beat.

The words in the books and the instructors' descriptions all seemed pale and powerless at that moment.

For the first time, war was presented to him in its most primitive and brutal form, so vividly.

His hands, gripping the control stick, began to stiffen, his palms damp with cold sweat.

Lu Guangbiao's eyes instantly turned cold and calm, the look of a hunter spotting his prey.

Without the slightest hesitation, he reached for the radio's communication button, and a cold voice rang out in all the pilots' headsets:
"Attention all units, target detected, prepare to enter attack flight path!"

"Lower your altitude and approach from over the mountains on the right flank!"

Lu Guangbiao's slightly hoarse voice transmitted through the radio to each pilot's headset.

Following closely behind Lu Guangbiao, Song Shaojie almost instinctively pressed the control lever forward.

The P-51 Mustang responded immediately, its nose dropping and its altitude rapidly decreasing.

He subconsciously turned his head to look to his side and behind him, only to see that the other squads had already spread out as if they understood each other, forming several sharp arrows, ready to cut into the battlefield from different angles.

Seeing this, he subconsciously pushed the control stick to close the distance with the lead aircraft.

Conducting low-altitude attacks in hilly areas is extremely risky.

Those small hills, some ten meters or even tens of meters high, that suddenly rise from the ground without any apparent pattern are deadly traps for high-speed fighter jets.

However, risks and opportunities coexist. This complex terrain also allows the P-51 Mustang to fully utilize its excellent maneuverability at low and medium altitudes below 3000 meters.

Song Shaojie's left hand steadily controlled the control stick, piloting the fighter jet nimbly through the mountains. The wings almost grazed the treetops on the mountaintops, causing a flurry of leaves to dance in the air.

At the same time, his right hand began rapidly making final preparations for the attack.

With a "click," he turned off the cooler switch to reduce unnecessary noise.

With a "click," the main power fuse for the weapon rack was then switched on.

As the beeping sound rang out, he checked the power indicator lights of the six 12.7 mm Browning heavy machine guns distributed on the wings and the bombs under the fuselage, confirming that all of them were lit up with green lights.

Finally, he turned the knob to switch the radio frequency from the team's internal channel to the public frequency, ready to receive orders from the general command or report the battle situation to friendly forces at any time.

The two P-51 Mustang fighter jets piloted by Lu Guangbiao and Song Shaojie, which resembled arrowheads, were like hummingbirds flying rapidly over the mountains, constantly dodging obstacles on the ground with incredible agility.

They simultaneously and tacitly reduced the engine speed, and the whistling sound of the propellers cutting through the air gradually diminished.

As the engine speed decreased, the engine noise became quieter and quieter. When the aircraft's speed dropped to about 260 kilometers per hour, the originally sharp roar was almost imperceptible in the noisy environment on the ground.

Meanwhile, on the highway below, the soldiers and officers of the Japanese 27th Division were still completely immersed in the joy of their easy victory over the 83rd Army of the Jin-Sui Army the day before.

The fatigue from the long march was overshadowed by the impending great victory. The Type 38 rifles were casually slung over their shoulders, their helmets were worn askew, and many soldiers even unbuttoned their collars, chatting and laughing with their comrades as they marched, boasting about yesterday's achievements.

They were completely unaware that a group of white death ghouls were flying overhead, preparing to hurl deadly bombs and a hail of vengeful bullets at them.

The entire marching column was completely unguarded and relaxed, with no anti-aircraft sentries or anti-aircraft machine guns set up.

Division Commander Lieutenant General Masaharu Honma was riding a tall red horse, observing the road ahead through binoculars.

He was in high spirits. From him, the division commander, down to every ordinary soldier, they all shared a single, clear, and fervent goal: to reach Xinkou as quickly as possible! To join forces with the already deployed Fourth Division to complete the encirclement of the Eighth Route Army's 129th Division and the remnants of the Jin-Sui Army's 61st Army! To wipe out the main forces of these two Chinese armies in one fell swoop!
Then, they turned around and assembled several divisions of the Empire to deal with the thorn in their side—Su Yaoyang's Shanxi militia—that had brought them great humiliation and was entrenched in Shanxi! They aimed to completely pacify the situation in Shanxi and secure North China, the most important strategic base for the Empire.

He had even begun to envision where to hold a grand entry ceremony after capturing Taiyuan.

As the plane was about to fly off the mountain ridge beside the road, Lu Guangbiao did not rush to aim. He dropped the bomb at an altitude of less than 200 meters. For any fighter pilot, there was no need to aim at all to accurately hit the target on the road.

The moment the plane flew over the highway, screams erupted from the road. The Japanese soldiers who had been marching leisurely on the highway were thrown into chaos. Lu Guangbiao exerted a little force and pressed the bomb release button on the control stick.

The P-51 fighter jet shuddered, and the bombs left the fuselage and hurtled towards the ground. As it pulled up and climbed sideways, attempting to evade anti-aircraft fire, Lu Guangbiao habitually glanced down at the ground.

Looking down, he saw that the cluster bomb he had dropped had landed right in the middle of the road, and a series of explosions of smoke rose up in the middle of the road. Instantly, broken wood and debris flew everywhere, and the black smoke column rising from the explosion shot into the sky.

At the same time, Song Shaojie, who was closely following behind him, also dropped bombs in his fighter jet.

Within a few seconds, more than sixty 200-kilogram cluster bombs exploded in succession on the highway.

When the cluster bombs exploded 20 meters in the air, thousands of 1-kilogram bombs rained down on the Japanese troops on the road, instantly rendering the unit completely incapable of fighting.

(End of this chapter)