The 221st People’s Maritime Patrol of the People’s Republic of China, based on Yuhuan Island thirty miles east of Wenzhou, Zhejiang Province, had been formed in 1955, flying rag-wing biplanes off the coast every hour of every day for forty-two years except in the most extreme weather conditions. The group’s mission was to patrol the coastline, operating roughly from Shanghai to the north all the way to Hong Kong to the south, although the group’s aircraft mostly patrolled the Formosa Strait.
The 221st was like an exclusive club. There were only one hundred members in the unit, and there would only ever be one hundred members — no more, no less. Prospective members had to be recommended by three other members, screened by a selection committee, and approved by the commander. Members served for life, and the only vacancies were the ones caused by death or court-martial, never by resignation. The group had several members over the age of ninety who still strapped into the back of their patrol planes and stared out the observation windows looking for enemy ships or ships in distress — the same as they had done for the past forty-plus years.
In 1985, the 221st was given a new class of aircraft, its first metalwing plane: three Hanzhong Y-8 maritime patrol aircraft, a copy of the old Soviet An-12 “Cub” transport. The plane was over twenty years old then, but it represented a significant upgrading of the group’s patrol capabilities. Along with numerous observation windows, the Y-8 carried electronic radio direction finders, which could scan for radio transmissions and provide a bearing to the transmitter. With two or more bearings, the operator could fix the location of the transmitter with surprising accuracy. The Y-8 was a four-turboprop smoke-belching monster that could barely fly above 10,000 feet, but it could stay aloft for as long as twelve hours and fly in almost any kind of weather. The members of the 221st, old and young alike, loved it.
One of the 221st’s planes was on patrol one evening over the East China Sea, north of Taipei, when the radio DF operator caught the first bearing to an unidentified aircraft. A second bearing fix established the target’s course and speed — out away from the Chinese coast, heading to the north of the island of Formosa. The operators were also able to identify the VHF radio frequency of the target and eavesdrop on their uncoded conversations — they were speaking not Mandarin Chinese, not even Taiwanese or Hakka, but English! The Y-8 crew decided to pursue the targets out as far as they could to the east to find out where they were headed.
Several DF bearings on several frequencies told the Y-8 crew members that there was more than one target in the area — they counted six so far, all heading east-northeast — but not toward Taipei, as the crew would’ve guessed. The targets all flew well north of the northern tip of Formosa. Because there were no fighter patrols up over the Nationalist capital — the airfields had been very effectively bombed out by Chinese missile and bomber attacks — the Y-8 crew decided to fly low, only 1,000 feet above the East China Sea, and cut east, close to Taipei. That way, they could track the targets no matter which way they headed.
Their strategy worked. The targets gradually turned south, down into the Philippine Sea, and the Chinese Y-8 crew was" able to follow them. The VHF radio transmissions became more frequent. They also started receiving VHF bearings from Formosa — near the military base at Hualien. Was that possible? Hualien had been hit and destroyed by Chinese nuclear-tipped M-9 missiles days ago — that had been confirmed. Could it be possible that the Nationalists had rebuilt the base so quickly?
There was only one way to find out — go take a look. The Y-8 crew started to fly south along the eastern Formosa coastline. Slowly, careful to avoid any ships or clusters of lights on shore, throttled back with minimum propeller pitch to cut down on noise, they inched their way along the coast toward Hualien. Soon, the target bearings were turning… turning westbound, right in front of the Y-8! Westbound? Hualien s runways were oriented generally north-south — the coastal mountains in this area to the west rose steeply out of the sea…
… and suddenly, the Y-8’s observers on the starboard side spotted the military base at Hualien. It was as flat as a pancake. Not much detail could be seen, but the crumbled foundations, the large pieces of debris scattered everywhere, and the fires still burning in many places told them that the base was completely unusable.
So where in blazes were the Taiwanese targets going?
The Y-8 crew continued southbound until the radio DF bearings started to shift toward the north. According to their charts, the high terrain in this vicinity was over 12,000 feet, just fifteen miles to the northwest, but the alluvial plain southwest of Hualien was almost ten miles wide and would allow them to stay low while turning around. They started a starboard turn over the coast, looping around back to the northeast. If they kept the town of Hualien just off the starboard wingtip, they would be clear of the transmission lines along the highway to the west and well clear of the—
The Y-8 crew heard a sudden rushing sound, which quickly grew into an ear-shattering roar. A jet fighter had just missed them! It had flown underneath them, about 200 feet lower than the big Y-8, heading northwest! That was insane, impossible! There was nothing to the northwest except 10,000- and 11,000-foot mountains…
But then they saw the glow of light from a wide chasm cut into the rocks, and the Y-8 pilot instinctively banked to port to head toward it— as long as he could see light, there were no mountains in the way. The light grew, expanded… and then, to the crew’s amazement, they saw sequenced flashing landing lights\ There was an airfield down there! It was unbelievable! Impossible! The Y-8 banked hard to port and descended— and then they could clearly see inside the huge cave, and sure enough, there was an entire airstrip inside that monstrous cave! It was a secret rebel Nationalist airfield, actually built inside the mountain!
This was too important a discovery — they had to break radio silence. The Y-8’s communications officer immediately sent out an emergency position report on the shortwave — the UHF radio would certainly not get out this deep in the mountains. He did not listen for a reply — he just continued to transmit the position as best he could estimate, adding that they had discovered a secret rebel airfield.
Suddenly, a flash of light and a streak of fire erupted from the north part of the cave. In the blink of an eye, the streak of fire reached out across the sky and struck the number four engine. The engine exploded in a burst of fire, shearing off seven feet of the starboard wingtip along with it. The rebels had obviously detected the Y-8 crew’s HF transmissions and had instantly homed in on them, and the base was obviously very well defended. They added that bit of information to their continuous radio reports — and now it was time to get out of there as fast as they could!
Full power on the other three good engines, full pitch, and the Y-8 started a slow climb. The pilots were flying on a prayer now — thank the stars the Y-8 was a tough bird. Only the quick work of the copilot to shut down the engine and cut off fuel from the right wing kept them from crashing in a ball of flame. As best they could estimate, they were heading for the Mei River valley, which cut westward up through the Chung Yang Mountains. They were at 3,000 feet and climbing at 1,500 feet per minute. On either side of the valley, the mountains rose very steeply— within five miles north and south of the river, the peaks were as high as 11,000 feet! It was completely pitch-black outside. He would have to trust his compass and his navigator to keep them in the valley long enough to climb to a safe altitude. The Chung Yang range was not very wide — in twenty miles, less than six or seven minutes, they would be at the summit. Once on the western side, they could hug the mountains until they were sure they could not be tracked, then pick their way west until they could get back over the Formosa Strait, then—