You are ordered to support the War of Resistance against Japan; China enters Level 1 combat readines

Its daybreak.

On the eastern ridgeline, the sun had fully risen, its golden-red light spreading across the entire runway and coating the fuselages of the ten H-6 bombers with a thin layer of gold.

The lights on both sides of the runway were turned off, leaving only the sunlight, so bright it was dazzling and made one's heart burn.

Ten H-6 bombers are ready to go.

The engine had warmed up, and a deep roar filled the air, like a group of crouching beasts rumbling and growling in their throats.

The ground crew retreated to the side of the runway and stood in a row. No one spoke, and all eyes were on the ten planes and the pilots who were already sitting in the cockpit.

The deputy director stood at the front of the line.

He wasn't tall or strong, but when he stood there, he was like an old pine tree with its roots firmly planted, unmoved by the wind or the rain.

Before him stood the First Flight Squadron, fully prepared for takeoff; behind him were rows of H-6 bombers poised for flight; to his left was Shen Wang; and to his right was the blindingly bright sky at the end of the runway.

He didn't use a megaphone or shout.

The sound wasn't loud, but each word sounded as if it had been carved out of stone, hard and solid, enough to leave a dent if it hit the ground.

Comrades.

Three words, neither too loud nor too soft, but everyone heard them.

The pilot in the cockpit took off his headset, the ground crew on the runway stood on tiptoe, and even the wind seemed to stop for a moment.

"This was no ordinary bombing mission; it was the first time since the Opium War that the Chinese army had dropped bombs outside the country."

"One hundred years! A full one hundred years!"

"It has always been the planes of the great powers that bomb us, their warships that bomb us, and their armies that burn, kill, and plunder on our land."

"Today, it's our turn."

"Two thousand five hundred kilometers, you have to fly over North China, over the Yellow Sea, over the Korean Peninsula, over the East China Sea, and drop bombs on the head of the locusts."

"The round trip was a full 10,000 miles, with nowhere to land and no one to ask for help."

"If the wind changes direction, you have to calculate it yourselves; if you veer off course, you have to find it yourselves; if the clouds block the view, you have to judge the timing of the bombing yourself."

"Comrades, you are the ones who make history! From this day forward, the whole world will know that our air force has the capability to bomb the Japanese devils' stronghold!"

"From today onward, every Japanese soldier must think about whether a bomb will fall from above before going to sleep!"

"From this day forward, this war will be different!"

The deputy director paused, his gaze sweeping from the first row to the last, from the ground crew standing by the runway to the pilots sitting in the cockpit.

"Comrades, come back alive!"

"I'll celebrate your success!"

"Go! Let the Japanese devils see what it means to say that if they can go, so can I!"

After the deputy director finished speaking, he took half a step back, turned around, and looked at Shen Wang.

He meant, "I've finished speaking, it's your turn."

Shen Wang took a step forward.

He looked at the ground crew standing by the runway, at the pilots sitting in the cockpit, and at the ten H-6 bombers gleaming coldly in the morning light.

He didn't give a long speech or speak passionately; the deputy director said everything he needed to say.

Shen Wang only said one sentence, seven words.

"81192, set sail!"

Gao Zilong was the first to move.

He turned around and ran towards the lead H-6 bomber, his steps quick but not chaotic. He climbed the gangway, crawled into the cockpit, put on his headset, and fastened his seatbelt.

A quick scan of the instrument panel showed that fuel level, altitude, heading, and bomb bay were all normal.

He picked up the walkie-talkie, his voice unusually calm.

"First Flight Group, all aircraft, take off in formation!"

The engine throttle was pushed up, and the roar changed from a low rumble to a high pitch, and then from a high pitch to a shriek.

The lead aircraft began taxiing, its nose slowly turning toward the runway, the fuselage dipped slightly, and then it accelerated.

The ground crew on the side of the runway raised their hands in unison. There was no command, no one shouted "Salute!", but dozens of hands were raised at the same time, not in unison, but very heavy.

It taxied, accelerated, tilted up, the front wheels left the ground, the main wheels left the ground, and the entire massive fuselage seemed to be lifted up by an invisible hand, steadily rising into the sky.

The runway shrank in view, becoming a gray-white ribbon, and the figures of the ground crew became small black dots, standing on the side of the runway, looking up, motionless.

Unit 2 followed.

Unit 3 followed.

Unit 4, Unit 5, Unit 6...

One after another, ten H-6 bombers circled over Zhicheng, formed a formation, leveled off, and flew eastward.

The sun shone from the tail of the plane, illuminating its silver-gray wings, making them look like ten burning phoenixes taking flight from the Taihang Mountains.

Flying towards the sun, they flew farther and farther, getting smaller and smaller, until finally they turned into ten tiny black dots and disappeared into that blinding light.

The deputy director stood by the runway, head tilted back, still clutching the binoculars in his hand. He held them up for a long time, even though he could no longer see anything.

His lips were trembling, not from fear, but from something indescribable stuck in his throat, something he couldn't swallow or spit out.

Shen Wang stood there, squinting at the empty sky. A wind blew from the east, carrying the unique chill of the morning, making his clothes flutter.

He stared at it for a long time, and a slight smile appeared on his lips.

"81192... You must come back safely this time!"

. . .

Our gaze shifts to the sky.

Ten H-6 bombers formed two wedge-shaped formations at an altitude of 8,000 meters, their silver-gray wings cutting through the clouds and leaving ten faint contrails.

Gao Zilong sat in the cockpit of the lead aircraft, his left hand on the throttle lever and his right hand on the control stick. His gaze swept across the instrument panel and then fell on the sea of ​​clouds in front of him.

A thick layer of clouds covered the area beneath the aircraft, a vast expanse of white, like a still sea, obscuring the ground and the horizon. Only the sun hung in the left front, blindingly bright.

"Attention all aircraft, maintain altitude 8,000, heading 93, and cruise at economic speed."

The responses from various teams came through the headset one after another, crisp and efficient.

"Received, No. 2, altitude 8,000, heading 93, economic cruise."

"Received on the 3rd."

……

Navigator Zhao Dahe sat in the navigator's seat, with a navigation chart spread out in front of him and a pencil in his hand.

His eyes moved from the navigation chart to the ground reference point outside the window, and then back to the navigation chart, muttering to himself.

"Wind speed 11 meters per second, wind direction northwest, yaw angle correction 0.5 degrees, actual heading 92.5."

He reported the data to Gao Zilong in a low voice, but every word was clear.

Gao Zilong didn't speak, but gently pushed the control stick with his left hand. The nose of the plane tilted slightly to the right by less than half a degree, and the heading pointer on the instrument panel slid from 93 to 92.5 and stabilized.

"Heading 92.5, confirmed."

The H-6 bomber has a cruising speed of up to 1000 kilometers per hour and can reach its destination in less than three hours.