Reborn in 1950: Shorting the Federal Reserve at the Start

"Jet-powered?"

Commander Liu Yalou repeated the unfamiliar word, his brows furrowed in worry.

He walked up to the screen, reaching out to touch the image of the plane, but only touched a wall of cold light.

"Without a propeller, how does it fly? By the wind?"

It's not that Commander Liu is ignorant.

In those days, jet aircraft had only recently been invented and were still top secret in various countries. The domestic air force had just been established, and what people were familiar with were those propeller planes with a large fan at the front that made a buzzing noise.

"By pushing force."

Shen Jinghong walked to Commander Liu's side and made a pushing motion with her hand:

"It's like the firecrackers we set off during Chinese New Year. They shoot fire from their rear and use the reaction force to propel the plane forward."

"Simply put, it doesn't move by pulling the air, it moves by kicking the air."

"Running around kicking at the air?"

General Peng was amused. Although he didn't understand the principle, he found the analogy quite interesting.

"How fast can it run?"

Shen Jinghong raised a finger, his eyes sharp:

Mach 0.9

"That is... 1100 kilometers per hour. Close to the speed of sound."

"boom!"

The meeting room erupted in chaos once again.

1100 kilometers per hour?

What does this mean?

The most advanced propeller-driven fighter at the time, the American P-51 Mustang, could only fly a little over 700 kilometers even at its best.

It's like a cyclist encountering a Ferrari driver.

I can't even see the taillights!

"This...this is too fast!"

An old general exclaimed in amazement, "At such speed, can American planes catch up?"

"Chase?"

Shen Jinghong sneered, a look of absolute contempt from a future perspective:

"Sir, you overestimate them."

"The main force of the US military in Korea is still the P-51, a propeller-driven aircraft left over from World War II. Even their latest F-80 Meteor is an early jet aircraft with straight wings, which is slow and clumsy when turning."

He pointed to the swept-wing F-86 on the screen, his tone arrogant:

"And the one we have here is an aerial assassin that uses a swept-wing aerodynamic layout and is equipped with an axial-flow turbojet engine."

"In its presence, American planes are nothing but slow-moving targets."

"This is not aerial combat."

Shen Jinghong paused, then squeezed out two words through gritted teeth:

"This is called... a massacre."

"massacre……"

As President Peng pondered the word, the light in his eyes grew brighter and brighter.

He suddenly stood up, strode to the map, and slammed his finger heavily on the airspace south of the Yalu River.

That place was the backyard of US military aircraft.

This is the root cause of why our transport route is known as the "Death Highway".

"Jinghong, you mean...?"

General Peng's voice trembled slightly with excitement, "With this plane, our logistics line... can be saved?"

"It's not just about preserving."

Shen Jinghong walked to the map, picked up a red pen, and drew a large circle on that airspace.

This circle covers a vast airspace north of the Chongchon River.

"What we need to do is not just defend."

"Since our planes are faster and more powerful than theirs, why not launch a preemptive strike?"

Shen Jinghong's pen tip heavily touched the map:

"We want to establish an absolute 'no-fly zone' here!"

"The Americans call this 'air superiority,' so let's name it 'MiG Alley'... Oh no, we use sabers, so let's call it 'Saber Alley'!"

"Any American plane that dares to take off in this corridor will be mercilessly shot down!"

"We're going to utterly crush the American Air Force!"

"We want them to know who this sky above them really belongs to!"

Quiet.

A deathly silence.

Everyone was stunned by Shen Jinghong's bold words.

The shift in mindset from "being afraid of being bombed" to "dominating the enemy" is so drastic that it takes a while to recover.

"Hahahahaha!"

Suddenly, a burst of extremely hearty laughter broke the silence.

General Peng laughed so hard he almost fell over, tears welling in his eyes. He slammed his fist on the table, making a deafening noise.

"Good! That's a great way to rub your hands into the ground!"

"That feels great! That's fucking great!"

The old general, whose hair had turned white from worrying about logistics and supplies, felt that the heavy weight on his chest had finally been lifted.

"Back when we were fighting, we had to hide in the woods whenever we heard planes, we had to avoid them, and we suffered all sorts of humiliation!"

General Peng waved his hand dramatically, his spirit soaring to the heavens:

"This time, I'm going to turn things around!"

"I'll make the Americans feel that way too! I'll make them wet their pants at the sound of our planes! I'll make them avoid us!"

"Give the Air Force a death order!"

General Peng turned to look at Liu Yalou, his eyes like iron:

"These aircraft must achieve combat readiness in the shortest possible time! Give them a good beating! Smash the Americans' arrogance!"

"yes!"

Liu Yalou stood at attention and saluted, his face trembling with excitement.

With this amazing weapon, the Chinese Air Force will reach its peak right from the start!

"Alright, the flying ones are dealt with, and the ground ones are dealt with too."

Looking at the excited generals filling the room, Marshal Nie smiled and turned to Shen Jinghong, "Jinghong, what other good things are in your treasure chest? Don't hide them away, take them all out at once, don't be afraid of scaring us."

"There is indeed a little gadget."

Shen Jinghong smiled and turned off the projector.

The lights came back on.

He bent down and pulled out a dark object from the briefcase that seemed to be connected to Doraemon's pocket.

The thing wasn't big; it looked like a monocular telescope, but it had a strange cylinder attached to the front and a wire trailing behind, connected to a small battery box.

It looks unremarkable, even a bit ugly.

"What's this? A telescope?"

Chen Weiguo leaned closer, picked it up and glanced at it. "It's pitch black and doesn't let any light through. How can we see anything?"

"This thing can't be used during the day."

Shen Jinghong took the device back and carefully put the lens cap back on. "This is called a low-light night vision device. It's specially designed for nighttime use."

"Is this for tonight?"

General Peng was taken aback. "It's pitch black at night. What can you see with binoculars?"

The Chinese People's Volunteer Army was most skilled at night fighting.

Using the cover of night to infiltrate and encircle, then engage in close combat to annihilate the enemy. This is our army's forte, but also a last resort—because they are bombed by planes during the day, they can only move at night.

However, night fighting also has its drawbacks.

It's too dark, making command difficult, easy to get lost, and friend or foe identification is also a big problem.

"General Peng, although our night battles are impressive, they were won by our soldiers' own two feet and experience."

While fiddling with the "black tube," Shen Jinghong said:

"Americans are afraid of the dark because they can't see. But what if we could see as clearly in the dark as we could in the daytime?"

"Like daytime?"

General Peng narrowed his eyes. "You mean... this thing can see at night?"

"It not only has night vision."

Shen Jinghong connected the battery box and then walked to the switch on the wall.

"Smack."

He turned off the lights in the conference room.

The room was instantly plunged into complete darkness, so dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face.

"Gentlemen, please take a look."

In the darkness, Shen Jinghong's voice carried a mysterious allure.

He handed the monocular night vision device to General Peng, who was closest to him:

"Place it on your eyes, and then...look around."

With some skepticism, General Peng took the cold metal lump and brought it to his right eye.

next second.

The battle-hardened commander shuddered violently, letting out an incredulous gasp:

"Oh My God!"

"What...what's going on?!"

In his field of vision.

The once pitch-black conference room has now transformed into a ghostly green world.

Although the colors are strange, everything is clearly discernible!

He could see the teacup on the table, the surprised expression on Marshal Nie's face across from him, and even the smiling eyes of Shen Jinghong in the corner.

It's like giving the night...

It was fitted with a pair of green ghost eyes!

"This...this is way too clear!"

General Peng handed the night vision goggles to Marshal Nie beside him, his voice trembling with excitement, "Old Nie, look! It's amazing! Absolutely amazing!"

When Marshal Nie took a look, he also gasped in shock.

This isn't a telescope.

This is practically the legendary "eye in the sky"!

"This is called an active infrared night vision device."

Shen Jinghong explained in the darkness, "It can emit a kind of infrared light that is invisible to the naked eye, and then receive the reflected light through the lens, turning night into day."

"Think about it, esteemed leaders."

Shen Jinghong's voice echoed in the darkness, each word like a bullet, striking the hearts of all the generals present:

"If it were our scouts, carrying this, they could sneak up right under the noses of the American sentries."

"If it's our infiltration company, they'll wear this when marching or lying in ambush at night."

"Americans can't see anything, they can only shoot blindly in the dark."

"And we..."

Shen Jinghong sneered:

"We can see their every move, their terrified faces, and we can... precisely place the bullet between their eyebrows!"

"This is one-way transparency!"

"This is the King of Night Battles!"

"Snapped!"

The lights came back on.

Everyone's eyes turned red.

They were stimulated by the eerie green light, and excited by the prospect of such a one-sided massacre.

King of Night Battles!

This word is too heavy!

The Chinese People's Volunteer Army were already masters of night fighting; if they were equipped with these "ghost eyes," what would the Americans possibly fight for? They might as well just surrender!

"Great stuff! Absolutely great stuff!"

A division commander snatched the night vision goggles, clutching them tightly to his chest as if afraid someone would take them away. "Director Shen, how many of these are there? My division is the vanguard; I want them all!"

"Old Li, have you no shame? Why should you take it all? I want it too!"

"Me too!"

A group of normally dignified generals nearly came to blows over a black tube.

Shen Jinghong looked at the scene and waved his hand with a smile.

"Don't steal it, don't steal it!"

"As long as production capacity can keep up, each of our reconnaissance soldiers will have one!"

He paused, looking at the group of bigwigs who had been completely conquered by the "black technology," and thought to himself that the time was almost right.

We have things in the sky, things on the ground, and even eyes.

One last thing is missing.

abdomen.

People are iron rice is steel.

In that icy and snowy Korean battlefield, besides enemy bullets, the greatest enemies were the bitter cold and hunger.

"A handful of fried noodles and a handful of snow"—this is the tragic story of the Chinese People's Volunteer Army, and also the eternal pain in Shen Jinghong's heart.

"Commendations, we must fight, but people also need to eat."

Shen Jinghong walked to the table and took out the last item from the treasure chest-like bag.

It was an ordinary-looking, silver aluminum foil bag.

Several red words were printed on it:

**[Individual Self-Heating Field Rations (Braised Beef Flavor)]**

"With this, our soldiers will no longer have to eat potatoes that are frozen like rocks."