Chapter 38: Average Wartime Lifespan of Pilots by Country

Chapter 38: Average Wartime Life Expectancy of Pilots Worldwide

Before Zhou Zhihan, two more hangars appeared and slowly opened. As two trainer aircraft emerged, the hangars vanished into thin air.

They were once again the Tachikawa Ki-95c trainer and the Stearman PT-17 biplane trainer.

Still these two trainers?

Zhou Zhihan said cautiously, "I would like to test-fly the Type 96 carrier-based fighter today, if I may. Or perhaps the P-26 toy plane would do."

System: "Your request is a bit ambitious. While you are eager to master the performance of the Type 96 so that our nation can know the enemy and know ourselves, it is still too early. Your skills are not yet sufficient to pilot combat aircraft. You need to become completely familiar with both the Tachikawa Ki-95c and the Stearman before you can move on to the next stage of faster monoplanes."

Zhou Zhihan was frank: "After yesterday's practice, I feel I have a deep understanding of the performance of the Tachikawa Ki-95c. I should be ready for the next stage."

Indeed, after yesterday's practice, Zhou Zhihan felt his control over the 95c trainer was flawless. It was much like how many drivers, having just mastered driving in straight lines and gentle curves, feel their confidence skyrocket after a few solo sessions.

"True, your performance yesterday was impressive. Flying for four hours is equivalent to 200 hours of flight for others. Moreover, compared to any other pilot, those 200 hours of your flight time were not watered down by a single second. Let me first speak about your future main opponents, the training process of Japanese pilots.

"Japanese air cadets undergo a six-month preliminary course. This period involves ruthless physical training, with an astonishing dropout rate of forty-six percent, the highest in the world. After surviving the physical training, cadets enter primary flight training for four months, covering takeoffs, landings, and cruising, with a total flight time of at most 100 hours, always accompanied by an instructor. During this time, they also receive brainwashing, physical training, and willpower training.

"After completing primary training, the rookies undergo six months of advanced training, during which they can only accumulate another 100 hours of flight time, again with an instructor. Upon completion, these rookie pilots are assigned to frontline units, where they perform solo primary combat training. Their curriculum becomes even more cumbersome, including an insane amount of land-based individual survival training.

"These rookie pilots remain in frontline units for at least six months, and during that time, they get at most another 100 hours of actual flight—sometimes less. Because there are too many pilots needing cockpit time, the number of instructors and trainers is limited. A bigger reason is that fuel consumption is staggering; it is impossible for a rookie pilot to fly for three or four hours at a time like you do, practicing until your bones ache and your legs go soft. It takes a Japanese pilot at least two years from the start of the preliminary course to being able to fly in combat, having accumulated at most 500 hours of flight time, all while undergoing grueling, superhuman training."

Zhou Zhihan smiled and said, "Exactly! If Japanese pilots take two years to accumulate less than four hundred hours, and I’ve logged half that total in just one day, surely I can move on to the next stage!"

System: "You are right! That is why the average life expectancy of Japanese pilots in the early stages of the war was only six months. After the Pearl Harbor incident, it dropped to just four months. By the end of the war, not one in a hundred of their so-called ace pilots remained. You might not know this, but in the early stages of the War of Resistance, the average flight time for Chinese pilots was less than 100 hours, and their average life expectancy during the war was at most three months. By the middle of the war, when there was a severe shortage of pilots, some would go into combat with only a dozen hours of practice, never to return. Even if you were to fly for four thousand hours, your survival time in the war would likely not exceed four years."

The reversal was too great. Zhou Zhihan suddenly felt hot, sweat trickling down his back.

"After Japan, let’s talk about American pilot training. The standard curriculum for a U.S. Army pilot is 150 hours of introductory training over seven months. The intensity of the physical training is something you already know without me saying it."

Zhou Zhihan: "..."

"Then, the cadets spend four months in the Stearman PT-17 biplane, accumulating at least 170 hours of basic training. Next, the rookies must practice for at least 150 more hours in the PT-13 or PT-17, requiring another three months. During this, they face endless physical training and theoretical study. Only after this can they test-fly monoplanes like the PT-19, PT-23, and PT-26. It is only after this long-term basic training that they finally touch the P-26 to practice aerobatics like rolls and spins.

"If one's techniques in climbing, level flight, and diving are not proficient, attempting various maneuvers, high-angle climbs, or evasive spins during a dive attack could lead to a fatal crash. If a pilot cannot master these maneuvers, what is the difference between them and the Japanese Kamikaze pilots of the later war? Even though American pilots receive the most rigorous training in the world, by the end of the war, their average life expectancy was only seven months. There is one more cruel reality: during the early and middle stages of the War of Resistance, the Japanese had ten times as many fighters as China, and such a disparity led to the total annihilation of the Chinese Air Force.

"Your ambition is to become the King of Air Combat. This requires you, despite your immense talent, to build a rock-solid foundation so that in future battles, you can face any enemy plane without fear and become the ace of aces. Of course, once your abilities reach a certain level, you will be capable of piloting any fighter you choose. One more thing you must always understand: you cannot change the course of the entire Second World War by yourself. What you can do is appear in the skies over the battlefield at the right moment—when the people are in despair and the Japanese planes are screaming about the total destruction of the Chinese Air Force—and, with the posture of an invincible king, strike at the enemy's arrogance and bring hope to the soldiers and civilians."

Zhou Zhihan stopped speaking and walked directly toward the Tachikawa Ki-95c.

Just as he closed the cockpit and latched it, a light rain began to fall. In an instant, the ground was slick.

"From now on, you must gradually practice taking off and landing in light, medium, and heavy rain, in crosswinds, in thunderstorms, and in wind and rain. Only by doing what the enemy cannot can you be a true King of the Skies!"

He turned on the ignition switch, the cockpit electrical switch, and the fuel supply valve, then pressed the engine start button.

"Boom!"

The familiar Nakajima Kotobuki 38 air-cooled engine erupted with a wild roar, making the entire fuselage tremble. After a dozen seconds, the shaking subsided.

He habitually checked the rearview mirror at the top of the cockpit. His left hand pushed the throttle forward at a snail's pace while his right hand released the brake trigger. Zhou Zhihan performed this sequence of actions with fluid, clean precision.

The aircraft slid forward. The roar of the engine grew louder. Oil pressure was normal. Oil temperature rose steadily—normal. The radiator thermometer began to function. The plane accelerated. Water mist gathered on the windshield. He opened the defroster valve; the engine's heat, like a 70-degree desert wind, instantly dispersed the droplets on the glass.

Throttle forward. Speed: 20 km/h. Throttle further forward. Lubrication pressure normal, carburetor linkage normal, brake pressure gauge normal, supercharger knob normal, engine RPM normal. Throttle advanced for acceleration. Speed: 40 km/h. The green light flashed. The nose lifted. Speed: 43 km/h.

He pulled back on the stick. The plane's horizontal stabilizers tilted up 35 degrees. The wings sliced through the curtain of rain, carving out two lines of white mist. The nose rose. He pulled the stick again—the movement was seamless.

The 95c’s stabilizers tilted, the nose at a 45-degree angle.

"Whoosh!"

The Tachikawa Ki-95c, like a giant bird, pierced the vast curtain of rain and surged into the sky at a 45-degree angle. Zhou Zhihan was completely relaxed, focused, and pushed the throttle forward without hesitation.

He pulled the stick again. The Ki-95c climbed at a 55-degree angle.

"Boom, boom, boom..."

Altitude: 1,200 meters, 1,400 meters, 1,600 meters, 1,700 meters, 2,100 meters.

Following the flight manual, Zhou Zhihan pushed the throttle to five-sixths and pulled the stick back sharply. The nose jerked upward into a steep climb. He pushed the throttle to the max. He held the stick perfectly steady. The engine roared at full power. The nose tilted up to 180 degrees. Just as Zhou Zhihan felt his entire back pressing against the seat, he pushed the stick to the right and held it there, then slammed the rudder pedal full over.

In the inverted state, the plane performed a half-roll, striking the raindrops and spinning out a half-mist, a truly spectacular sight. At the moment the Ki-95c reached the perfect exit position, he released the stick, stabilized, and pulled the throttle back to cruising speed. The aircraft leveled out of the loop. The power was smooth, the fuselage stable, and the plane returned to level flight.

The loop maneuver of the Tachikawa Ki-95c, while limited by its engine power, lacked a bit of explosive force, but the entire process was performed in one fluid, rhythmic motion.

After performing a few more loops, dives, and climbs in the air, Zhou Zhihan brought the Tachikawa Ki-95c down for a steady landing twenty minutes later.

Five minutes later, Zhou Zhihan sat in the cockpit of the Stearman.

He closed the latch and turned on the ignition switch...

(End of chapter)