Munitions Empire

Chapter 1089: 1011 is no different

The search process for him was like watching a horror movie, where something terrifying seemed poised to jump out at his face at any second.

The noisy sounds continued to echo in his ears, with no sign of the tension abating. When one of the wingmen pilots suddenly saw two silvery streaks climbing upward in the distance, he was unaware of his own location.

He exclaimed, “I see them, they are climbing… Damn it, their climbing speed is even faster than our diving speed!”

“What nonsense are you talking about! Follow me! Follow me!” The leader knew that the enemy was fast but didn’t believe there could be an aircraft that could climb faster than the Butcher Fighter Jets could dive.

The wingman pilot had found the targets, and because they were far enough away, he could observe these two “enemy aircraft” for a longer time.

He saw the other side turning, still with lightning-fast speed: “I swear, they are turning back! The turn radius is too big… Their speed is so fast that their turn radius is large too… This might be our chance!”

“Be careful, they’re coming at us from the left! Circle around! Change paths! Don’t let them lock onto us easily!” The leader desperately issued orders, but no matter how he directed, it always seemed a step slow compared to the enemy’s attack.

The remaining wingman pilots from the third group saw the aircraft rushing toward them, and this time, he was fortunate enough to clearly see the dark holes at the front of the two planes.

He called out in desperation over the radio, feeling an unprecedented sense of despair: “Where’s the second group? Cover us! We need cover!”

“We are climbing, but our speed is too slow…” The two Butcher Fighter Jets from the second group burst out of the clouds, seemingly trying to help the struggling wingmen from the third group.

The ace leader immediately made the decision to abandon the third group, knowing that if they continued to engage with the enemy at around 6000 meters, they would all be shot down. So he shouted over the radio for the second group to immediately return to the clouds: “Don’t come out! Second group, dive immediately, we can’t fight them at this altitude! Their speed is just too fast!”

“Sir, the drill command has ruled that I’ve been shot down… You can only rely on yourselves now.” The wingman from the third group spoke helplessly, reminding them, “According to the rules, I can’t talk anymore.”

“Where? Where? I can’t see those damn… aircraft anymore! I can’t see where they are!” The wingman following the ace leader saw the third group’s wingmen turning back, but did not see the two “enemy aircraft” that shot down their comrade.

The ace leader, who had lowered his altitude to near the cloud layer, comforted his wingman: “Don’t panic! Keep close to me! Fly just below the clouds, making them come down to fight with us!”

The weather was not in their favor; the clouds were thin and intermittent, not well suited for fighter jets to hide in.

Besides, merely hiding wouldn’t allow them to win. Using the clouds as a temporary measure was just to stabilize their position for the moment.

The key was to lure the enemy to fight at lower altitudes, to use the Butcher Fighter Jets’ good maneuverability and agility to find a way to shoot down these damned opponents!

Who would have thought that the pilots of the Great Tang Empire Air Force, who had been unrivaled in the skies for so many years, would now be racking their brains to employ tactics that their opponents had no choice but to use… Who could have imagined that they’d need to engage in close combat at medium and low altitudes?

How frustrating it must have been for their opponents to fight them this way in the past, and now they finally understood.

Knowing they couldn’t just sit and wait for defeat, the experienced leader had not given up. He was still thinking of ways to counter the enemy, calculating in his mind how to negate their extreme velocity advantage.

But as he was thinking, an anxious reminder from his wingman came over the radio: “The direction of the sun! Sir! Watch out for the direction of the sun!”

“I see them! Damn…” As he looked up, he saw two “enemy aircraft” coming straight for him. As the ace, the leader immediately pulled on his control stick to make the aircraft veer to the right, executing a turn: “Follow me! Follow me!”

“The two planes are on the right, the right! They’re headed for you guys! First group! First group! Be careful!” The second group’s pilots, far away, saw the “enemy aircraft” heading towards their allies and could only remind from a distance due to insufficient speed.

“We’re hiding in the clouds! Hurry over and cover us! Second group! Second group! Cover us!” The wingman, following his own lead aircraft, called out to distant teammates.

“I’m converging on your position! Pay attention to where you are! If it doesn’t work, keep diving! Draw them up to 2000 meters! Sir!” The lead pilot from the second group was also a veteran who had shot down ten enemy aircraft, and his combat experience was very rich.

“Understood!” The leader was preparing to shake off the opponent while responding. His turn did indeed help him avoid the attack, leading the opponent to give up the now nonexistent opportunity and break off contact.

Watching the enemy aircraft leave, everyone was greatly relieved. The pilots from the second group who had regrouped took a deep breath and said while staring at the two J-6 fighter jets turning in the distance: “Sir, those two enemy aircraft are circling! They’re making rounds on our perimeter! It seems they’re looking for a weakness in our defense.”

They knew their adversaries were certainly not adept at dogfights, but the other side’s speed was really too fast, so fast that there was no need for them to engage in a dogfight at all.

Just like when they used to attack their opponents, as long as the enemy kept diving and attacking, they would always find an opportunity to break through. The enemy could make countless mistakes, but for them, who were passively getting hit, a single mistake meant doom.

Clenching his teeth, the squadron leader felt that now they could only try those tactics their opponents had used in the past: Since they couldn’t outmatch in speed, they would try to reduce altitude and engage in a dogfight, using maneuverability to offset the enemy’s speed advantage.

This was their past experience, generally, aircraft with a speed advantage would necessarily lack somewhat in horizontal maneuverability.

After all, they had never seen a design with double-delta wings, nor had they seen third-generation fighters of the future, let alone known about maneuvers like the Cobra or exaggerated moves like ‘falling leaves drop’ or ‘falling leaves ascend’…

Before completing these maneuvers, propeller planes would have already lost control and crashed; it was an unbridgeable gap, a gap in technology.

However, when facing aircraft like the J-6, they could indeed use low-speed maneuvers to engage in dogfights, it’s just that they would be at a disadvantage in combat.

While continuing to lower their altitude, the ace squadron leader from Chang’an continued to urge his teammates, “Keep decreasing altitude, follow me in serpentine maneuvers! They have a wide turning radius; they can’t possibly get us in their sights!”

“You’ve been hit, you’ve been hit!” Just as he finished speaking, his wingman pilot heard the alert from the exercise control tower.

The wingman was a bit perplexed for a moment, but he still reported according to procedure: “Sir, I’ve been hit… The exercise command has judged that I’ve been hit.”

Growing somewhat numb while watching the two silver fighter jets flying off into the distance, the infuriated ace leader switched channels and started to complain: “This is unfair! They couldn’t possibly lock onto us and open fire at this distance with us performing long-distance serpentine maneuvers!”

He had just seen the distance between himself and the enemy, at such a range he believed it impossible for him to open fire.

Because at such a distance, opening fire would most likely be wasting ammunition, the chance of hitting the enemy was very low: He would rather get closer once more, to fire at a more assured position.

But certainly, the J-6 had no intention of closing the distance, for getting any closer would risk collision; it was simply too fast, there was really no need for such risk during the exercise.

Staring at the two departing ‘Blue Army’ adversary planes, he once again expressed his dissatisfaction, “Calling the exercise command! Calling the exercise command! They never had us in their sights, how could they possibly score a hit?”

Obviously, the exercise command was fair and impartial. An officer picked up the radio and explained the basis for the judgment: “The opponent has radar rangefinders, combined with cannons, the hit rate for firing is set to double that of normal combat conditions, there is no issue with the judgment, the exercise continues.”

The reason why the J-6 could serve as an all-weather fighter was that such an aircraft could install a small radar in the nose, though its detection range was really short, it still had this equipment.

This gadget actually couldn’t provide guidance for missiles; most of its functions were for rangefinding, to provide better firing parameters for cannons.

Though very primitive and with only a two to three-kilometer detection range, such a device was still more advanced than an optical sight and naturally could improve the hit rate of 30mm caliber cannons.

In every aspect, the J-6 was a product of a different era compared to propeller-driven fighter aircraft. Thus, in any aspect, it far surpassed the Butcher Fighters currently in service with the Tang Army.

“Damn it!” Upon hearing the explanation from the exercise command, the squadron leader from Chang’an couldn’t help but curse—he didn’t know what a rangefinding radar was, but he did know what radar was.

How could he fight when the opponent’s planes actually had radar (he clearly misunderstood, as it wasn’t actually a true radar)?

As he was cursing, the two distant J-6s turned around once more, and charged towards him with a roar.

Instinctively turning to one side again, the leader didn’t wish to be shot down. But this time he guessed the wrong direction, and the enemy’s nose was pointed towards where he was turning.

“You’ve been shot down! You’ve been shot down!” Through the headset, the voice from the exercise command came once again, as the ace leader watched the two J-6s fly over his head, his face filled with a wry smile.

Turns out, he wasn’t the last one to be shot down… It seems that no matter how formidable he was, in the eyes of the adversary, he was no different from any other target.