The distant Ki-43 didn't let Ron's nerves relax, as Ron could clearly see behind his plane a long, pale gray ribbon of smoke trailing as he turned his head to look backwards. This is the result of a fuel leak. Just now Ron's P-51 was hit by anti-aircraft fire from the airfield, and although it was not shot down, it was clear that the fuel tank was damaged. Although the P-51 has a self-closing fuel tank, this does not guarantee that there will be no oil leakage after being hit, in fact, the plane was hit by the fuel tank and did not burst on the spot, which is already thanks to the self-closing fuel tank.

"Sir, your gas tank is leaking!" The wingman pilot's voice came through the headphones.

"Roger!" Ron replied as he lowered his head to look at the gas gauge.

Judging from the oil gauge, there is still a lot of oil, and if there is no oil leakage, there is no problem at all to fly to Kunming. But it's hard to say right now. Ron took control of the plane, flew at economic speed for a while, and then looked down at the fuel gauge again: the fuel level was still dropping faster than normal.

"It's an oil leak after all!" However, the leak is not too serious, and Ron estimates that the plane will probably be able to fly to China, but it is difficult to say whether it will be able to fly to Kunming Airport. However, as long as you can fly to the ** control area, whether it is a forced landing or parachuting, it is not a big problem.

A few minutes later, several other planes joined Ron and flew to Ron's side, so that the air flow from their planes would reduce Ron's fuel consumption. Now everyone has nothing to think about reading the novel, so they report the current situation through the radio, and then they just fly to China with one mind.

In this way, he flew for more than an hour, and under the wings was still the green boundless rainforest, and the pilots in the formation did not speak much. The radio silence had long since been canceled, and the victory should have made everyone extremely happy, but the danger that Ron faced did not make everyone happy.

"Hey, brothers, why are you all silent?" Ron said, "Say something, or a long flight like this will make you fall asleep." ”

"Sir, why don't we tell you a joke." The answer was Lieutenant Pilot Stockton, one of the first cadets sent away by the Reverse Cross, and in just a few months after entering the battlefield, he had already shot down four planes and damaged two. As long as he can not be beaten down by the devil, it is only a matter of time before he becomes an ace.

"Okay, who's going to talk about the first one first?" Ron said.

"Let Stockton come, he's the best at telling jokes." I don't know who's yelling over the radio.

"I'll come, I'll come!" Most Americans don't have the Chinese habit of twisting and pinching, and Stockton began to joke about him.

"There was a ship that was about to sink with British, French, Russian, American and Japanese ......"

…………

"This joke is so old-fashioned! Or, Chief Ron, tell us one! ”

Ron wasn't good at telling jokes, but he didn't want to let the atmosphere that had just become warm cool down, so he thought about it and finally came up with one:

"Once upon a time there was a plane that was running out of gas, and there were Americans, Germans, and Japanese on board. But they only had one parachute, so they had to grab the parachute and jump down together. The parachute couldn't carry three people, and seeing that everyone was about to fall to their deaths, the American came up with a good idea: he first shouted 'Long live Hitler,' then 'the emperor board,' and landed safely. Because the Germans and Japanese fell in salute. ”

When the joke was finished, there was no laughter in the headphones, just silence. Obviously, this ill-timed joke has made everyone worry about Ron's gas tank again.

"What's the matter, my jokes aren't so funny?"

"It's not...... But...... Sir, we want to know, how much fuel do you have in the tank? "Finally, there was a little guy who couldn't help it.

Ron looked down at the fuel gauge and smiled deliberately: "The leak is slower than expected, I'm sure I'll be able to fly to the airport." ”

A cheer from the pilots could be heard in the headphones. In the cheers, Ron shook his head slightly, in fact, the oil leak is not slow, the oil gauge is almost to the end. Whether you can fly to China depends on whether God can help you, as for Kunming Airport, unless you come to a steady tailwind, you will definitely not be able to fly.

"Sir, the fighter was spotted at 12 o'clock!"

Ron, looking ahead, there were four small dots that were rapidly growing in size. At the same time, a voice like this comes out in the headphones:

"The Third Squad of the First Group of the Fourteenth Air Force has come to welcome the sir!"

It was the fighter of the 14th Air Force, and they had come to meet Ron.

"Welcome, boys, how far is the airport?"

"Report sir, the airport is still three hundred kilometers away. Please follow us. ”

The four P-40s of the Fourteenth Air Force made a nice sharp turn and flew steadily ahead of Ron them.

"Sir, do you remember me? I was the second batch of Camacho graduates......"

"Remember, remember, it seems that Malone is also in your air team, right?"

"Yes, but he can't come, he got carried away after shooting down a bomber last time, drove the plane to drill a bridge hole, injured the hanging tail, and is being locked up by the leader......"

The originally dull atmosphere was enlivened up again, and everyone continued to fly northeast with a smile and laughter.

"Sir, you're now in Allied-controlled territory."

Ron looked down, the reckless jungle had receded, and now there were rolling hills under the wings, but scattered villages could already be seen in the mountains, and pale blue cooking smoke was curling from the black roofs. The village is surrounded by terraced rice fields, and a few figures can be seen faintly in the fields.

Flying a little further, roads and rivers appeared, and along the light gray roads that curled like a thin belt, towns and cities of all sizes appeared before Ron's eyes.

"Less than a hundred kilometers to go, you'll be at the airport."

Just then, Ron heard a strange rattle from the plane's engine, then the spinning propeller slowed down, finally shook a little, and stopped—the last drop of oil was finally gone.

The plane, having lost power, began to glide downward.

"Brothers, I'm going to land first. You guys go to the airport first, and remember to send a jeep to pick me up later, and send a truck to pull the plane back by the way. ”

"Sir, I know there is a river beach ahead, which is very suitable for a forced landing, please follow me." Fourteenth Air Force planes were now flying ahead of Ron.

Ron held the lever steadily, and the plane slid smoothly downward, and in a few moments, a flat, grassy river beach appeared in front of Ron......

Ron jumped out of the grounded plane and checked his plane. It was a successful crash landing, and if it weren't for the fact that it was a touch from the bush at the end, it would be almost not much different from a normal landing. If you look closely, the propeller seems to have been bent a little by the bushes, and the paint on the fuselage has been knocked off a bit. But Ron was sure that dragging it back to the airport, it would take the mechanics less than fifteen minutes to get it back into the blue sky.

The seven P-51s that had followed Ron were still hovering overhead, and Ron waved at them, and the planes shook their wings before flying away with the two P-40s of the Fourteenth Wing. The other two P-40s hadn't gone yet, and they still had enough fuel, so they began circling round and round over Ron.

Ron waved at them again, and walked towards the river, where he planned to wash his face. Just then he saw a pack of wild dogs by the river, hugging around something, and he seemed to hear a faint cry for help from there.

Ron pulled out the pilot's standard M1911 pistol and fired one. The loud gunfire scattered the wild dogs, revealing the pile that had been surrounded by them - it was a man!