137: Chapter 137 Aerial Slaughterhouse, The Death Waltz of the "Calamity" Brigade

9:45 AM, three thousand meters above the northern part of Mandalay.

BigDecimal own sat in the cockpit of the AH-64E "apache" attack helicopter, his fingers resting lightly on the control stick.

On the helmet-mounted display, the red zone representing the Myanmar Army's second line of defense was enlarging—that was the defensive line built relying on the old city walls of Mandalay and the surrounding factory district, stretching fifteen kilometers long and five kilometers deep.

"All units attention, this is 'Disaster-1'."

He opened the formation channel, his voice as calm as if he were reading an operating manual, "According to the pre-planned scheme, the first and second squadrons are responsible for the eastern section, the third and fourth squadrons for the central section, and the fifth and sixth squadrons for the western section."

"Remember, priority targets: air defense systems, tank clusters, artillery positions, and command nodes."

"Received."

"Understood."

"Time to get to work."

The replies from the squadron leaders came through the headset, their tones carrying suppressed excitement.

BigDecimal own glanced at the fuel gauge and ammunition status—full fuel, sixteen "Hellfire" missiles, four sets of 19-tube 70mm rocket pods, and 1200 rounds of 30mm chain gun ammunition.

That was enough.

"All units, descend altitude to five hundred meters, enter attack position."

Fifteen "apache" helicopters simultaneously pushed their noses down, like hunting falcons, swooping down from an altitude of three thousand meters.

The whistling sound of rotors tearing through the air rang out over the north of Mandalay.

The Myanmar Army's second line of defense, the 11th Mechanized Division's position.

Division Commander Major General Zaw Min (after retreating from Lashio, he was forcibly promoted by Min Aung Hlaing to Commander-in-Chief of the second line of defense) was hiding in a reinforced concrete underground command post, watching the radar screen with a pale face.

On the screen, fifteen fast-moving light spots were approaching.

"Air defense units! Where are the air defense units?!"

He roared into the radio, "Shoot those helicopters down!"

"Commander... the 'Avenger' system reports that the targets are keeping outside the maximum range of the 'Stinger' missiles."

The communications officer's voice trembled, "Our radar... is also being jammed, we cannot lock on..."

"Then use the anti-aircraft guns! Use the anti-aircraft machine guns!"

Zaw Min roared, "Are we just going to watch them bomb us?!"

The order was relayed down.

On the position, dozens of ZSU-23-4 self-propelled anti-aircraft guns and hundreds of 14.5mm anti-aircraft machine guns raised their barrels and fired wildly at the sky.

"Da da da da——!!!"

"Dong dong dong dong——!!!"

Tongues of fire spat out, and the barrage was like rain.

But... it was useless.

The "apache" hovered at an altitude of five hundred meters; this distance was too far for 23mm anti-aircraft guns and even further beyond the reach of anti-aircraft machine guns.

And the trajectories traced by those tracer rounds instead exposed the positions of the air defense emplacements.

"'Disaster-3' reporting, six anti-aircraft gun positions discovered, coordinates marked."

A pilot of an "apache" said calmly.

BigDecimal own glanced at the red box that popped up on his helmet-mounted display: "Attack authorized. Hellfire, fire."

"Xiu——Xiu——Xiu——!"

Three AGM-114 "Hellfire" missiles detached from the pylons, trailing white smoke as they dove toward the ground.

These laser-guided anti-tank missiles were like using a sledgehammer to crack a nut when hitting anti-aircraft gun positions.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Three fireballs bloomed on the position.

The ZSU-23-4 self-propelled anti-aircraft guns were hit directly, their turrets were blown off, and the hulls were engulfed in raging flames.

The surrounding gunners were knocked over by the shockwave, and severed limbs were scattered everywhere.

"Next target."

BigDecimal own's voice was without waves, "'Disaster-5', at two o'clock to your front left, suspected tank assembly area."

"Received, locking on... confirmed, twelve T-72S tanks, hidden in the factory ruins."

"Rocket barrage."

"Understood."

Two "apache" helicopters adjusted their headings, and the rocket pods under their stub wings began to rotate.

"Peng peng peng peng——!!!"

70mm rockets poured down like a rainstorm!

Each "apache" fired 38 rockets in a single volley, and two of them meant 76!

That factory ruin was instantly engulfed in a sea of fire.

The twelve T-72S tanks hidden there were covered by the rain of rockets before they even had a chance to fire.

The high-explosive warheads pierced the weak top armor and detonated the ammunition inside the vehicles.

"Hong hong hong hong——!!!"

The violent sympathetic detonations tore the tanks into fragments, and the turrets were blown dozens of meters into the air before crashing down heavily.

Burning diesel flowed out, igniting the surrounding buildings.

"My god... what on earth is this..."

A surviving Myanmar Army tanker crawled out of the ruins, looking at the hellish scene before him, muttering to himself.

Then he saw an "apache" diving towards him.

The 30mm M230 chain gun under the nose slowly rotated, its muzzle aiming at him.

"No——"

"Tu tu tu tu——!!!"

The 30mm shells blasted him and the ruins around him into fragments.

A massacre.

A one-sided massacre.

The "apache" soared freely over the Myanmar Army's position, like the Grim Reaper wielding a scythe, harvesting lives one by one.

Hellfire missiles precisely picked off air defense systems and high-value targets, rockets carpet-bombed and cleared out assembled troops, and 30mm chain guns strafed exposed infantry.

And the Myanmar Army... was completely powerless to fight back.

Their anti-aircraft missiles couldn't reach, their anti-aircraft guns couldn't hit, and their tanks were suppressed in bunkers, not daring to show their heads.

The infantry were even more desperate—hiding in trenches, they would be covered by rockets; running out of the trenches, they would be strafed by chain guns; hiding in buildings, they would be blown up along with the building by missiles.

"Commander! The eastern section position is requesting support! They can't hold on much longer!"

"The western section reports losses exceeding one-third! Requesting retreat!"

"The central section... the central section cannot be contacted! Communications are completely cut off!"

In Zaw Min's command post, bad news came in one after another.