In their own words...

[bobbysocks]

Here is a synopsis of Villamor's memoirs from the exploits of the
Sixth Pursuit Squadron, December 1941:


1st Kill: Mitsubishi Zero A6M (Navy Carrier Based Fighter)


On December 10, 1941 an alarm was sounded over Zablan field, Quezon
City. Current location of the AFP Supply Center and the Corps of
Engineers


From their base in Batangas Field, Batangas, Capt. Jesus Villamor,
Lt. Geronimo Aclan, Lt. Godofredo Juliano, Lt. Jose Gozar, Lt. Manuel
Conde, Lt. Antonio Mondigo were able to take off to intercept the
force attacking Zablan Field.


Uncle Jess got to 5000 feet and noticed a Zero on his tail. Rolls,
climbs, snap turns, nothing worked. The Zero could do everything
faster and better. At this point in time Uncle Jess regretted
underestimating (like the rest of the USAAC) the Japanese aviators and
their Zeros. He concluded that he could not outfly the Zero. He had to
outsmart him.


He dove down into the Marikina Valley, Flying at tree level, hugging
the ground flying through gullies, even flying underneath power lines.
He lost the pursuing Zero.


However, as soon as he climbed, another Zero was on his tail. He
climbed sharply. Doing so, he stalled his P-26. Struggling to gain
control, the P-26 stood on its tail and dropped, snap rolling to
recover, he found himself in front of, and head to head with the Zero.
They were so close that Villamor could see the Japanese pilot
struggling to avoid a collission. Instinctively he pulled the trigger.
Villamor saw tracers fly, and the incendiary rounds contacted the
Zero's wing. It ignited the Zero's fuel tanks and burst into flames.


2nd Kill: Mitsubishi G3M (Navy Attack Bomber) "Nell"


On December 12, 1941, a flight of 54 Attack Bombers and 18 escorts
were sighted enroute and the alarm sounded over Batangas Field,
Batangas.
Current location was the site of the former Philippine Constabulary
Headquarters of Batangas


Jesus Villamor was able to take off. This time with Cesar Basa, his
wing man. Villamor and Basa were able to reach altitude and pointed
their P-26' head-to-head with the "Nells." Villamor fired his .30 cals
in short bursts. To his astonishment, a Nell started to smoke, then
descend, then break up! A lucky shot!


Seconds later, the escorting Zeros were on them from out of the sun.
Villamor and Basa did all they could to outfly the Zeros to no avail.
Villamor looked back and saw Basa's plane have chunks fly off. Basa
was hit. Basa struggled to bail out of the cockpit as his mortally
stricken P-26 dove to the ground. The Zero followed.


Later that day, Basa's body was found not far from his plane's
wreckage. His body was riddled with bullets beneath his parachute. The
Zero pilot had machine gunned him. Lt. Ceasr Basa was the first
Filipino pilot to die in aerial combat.


Honors and Withdrawal


Douglas MacArthur, hearing of the Sixth Pursuit Squadron's actions,
sent out a communique to all forces under his command recognizing and
naming all of the Filipino pilots for their galantry. MacArthur
decorated Villamor and bannered him as an inspiration to the Filipinos
as he was calling upon the people to stand against the Japanese.


Later, another communique from MacArthur ordered the Sixth Pursuit to
conserve their planes. No more Interceptions. No more Pursuits. No
more hosite aerial combat. Reconnaisance missions only!


Manila was declared as an open city. MacArtur ordered the pilots of
the Sixth Pursuit Squadron to destroy their planes and withdraw to
Bataan.


Uncle Jess painfully said goodbye to his well worn and beloved P-26
#303 and ordered a sargeant to dynamite her.


Other Interesting feats from our pilots:


Lt. Geronimo Aclan on December 10th flew his his P-26 expertly, and in
a moment of fury tried to RAM a Zero, missing it by inches! It so
unnerved the Zero pilot that he flew away.


Villamor reminissces after the war that had Aclan succeeded with his
ramming maneouver, he would have been the first Filipino Kamikaze!


Lt. Godofredo Juliano, because of expert flying skills, was actually
able to line up a zero for a belly shot. As he was charging his guns,
the right cocking handle broke off in his hand. The left gun jammed.
He ended up being unarmed and flying into the clouds for cover.


Lt. Antonio Mondigo was shot down. He was able to bail out. floating
down in his parachute, a Zero approached to machine gun him (like what
happened to Basa). Lieutenats Aclan and Juliano came to his aide and
circled Mondigo and protected him from the Zero, which broke off the
attack. Mondigo landed safely, but was charged with Bolo, pitchforks
and spears by local villagers who mistook him for a Japanese. They
were yelling "Japon! Japon! Patayin natin!!! (...Japanese! Japanese!
Let's Kill him!!!)


He yelled in Tagalog, and was saved from being turned into hamburger
by the lynch mob.

[bobbysocks]

An Account by Wing Commander Hank Costain MBE

In spite of the advances made in aviation, man is allowed to use the sky on sufferance, never as a right; and, as Hank Costain now tells us, the elements can regain control of their domain in the most brutal fashion.

During the summer of 1944 I was a Flying Officer with 615 Sqn operating Spitfire VIIIs. During the battle to repel the attempted Japanese invasion of India we had been flying from Palel on the Imphal Plain but the time came for us to pull back out of the front line for a brief rest. Accordingly, on August 10th, our 16 aircraft took off from Palele with the CO in the lead, for a nice easy trip to Baigachi near Calcutta; for a quarter of our pilots however, the flight would be their last.

For much of the route we had underneath us puffs of thin fair-weather cumulus and as we neared our destination we let down through them. Soon afterwards the cloud cover above us became complete, but as we had good contact with the ground everything seemed all right. Indeed it was, until straddling our path we found a thick brown storm cloud extending right down to the ground. Clearly we could not go forwards through it and, because we had passed our point of no return, we could not go back to Palel either. So the CO decided to take us back a little way, then we could climb up through the layer of cumulus and once above it we could search for a way through the storm; but it never happened that way.

Soon after re-entering cloud there was a sudden bang and everything seemed to happen at once: the sky turned black as pitch, my Spitfire reared up and the stick seemed to go wild in its attempts to wrench itself out of my grasp. Somehow we had slid into that dreadfully turbulent monsoon storm cloud. Within seconds I was completely out of control and with the artificial horizon toppled I had not the faintest idea which way was up. Outside it was so dark that I could not even see my wingtips and the pounding of the walnut-sized hailstones on the fuselage drowned out even the noise of the engine. In my earphones I heard the frenzied chatter of the other pilots as they treid to fight their way free of the storm's clutches.

Of all my flight instruments, only the altimeter seemed to be reading correctly and from its spinning needles I learned that I was in a violent up-current. After going up rapidly through nearly 10,000ft during which my stick seemed to have no effect at all, the Spitfire bucked and entered an equally vicious down-draft and we were plunging earthwards just as fast. Again, nothing I did with my controls seemed to make the slightest difference. As the altimeter reading neared 1,000ft it became clear that this was no place for Mrs Costain's young lad - I had to bail out.

First, I had to get rid of the hood, so I yanked hard on the jettison ball above my head but the tropical heat had perished the rubber and it came away in my hand. Charming! Since the hood would not jettison I slid it fully back on the runners, then trimmed the nose fully down and undid my seat harness. Finally, I let go of the stick and as the Spitfire bunted forwards, up I went like a cork out of a bottle. At least, I would have done if not for my parachute pack getting caught on the overhanging lip of the hood. The next thing I knew I was tumbling head-over-heels along the fuselage before ramming hard into the tailplane and shattering my leg. As the tail disappeared into the glood I grabbed at the parachute D ring and pulled it, then I glanced down to see the ground rushing up at me.

The parachute canopy deployed just in time, but even so the landing on my boken leg was excruciatingly painful. As I lay in a sodden heap in that flooded Indian paddy field and began to collect my wits, my first thoughts were for the perfectly good Spitfire I had just abandoned. "Good God" I remember thinking "what on earth am I going to tell the CO?" Luckily I was picked up soon afterwards by some of the locals and they took me to a doctor.

In less than 5 minutes, 615 Sqn lost its CO and 3 other pilots killed and 3 more injured; we had written off half of our aircraft, 8 of the most modern fighters in the theatre. And it all happened without there being a Japanese fighter within a 100 miles. When it is angry, the sky is a foe without mercy.

[bobbysocks]

My brother, Dick, joined the RAF in August 1938 as ground crew. At the beginning of 1940 he was posted to 13 Squadron, an Army Co-operation Squadron with the BEF. When the German attack came in May 1940 the allied armies could do little to resist the enemy advance and a large part of the BEF was soon being evacuated from Dunkirk. The remainder, together with the French armies, was retreating southward. Unable to reach Dunkirk, Dick somehow extricated himself from the chaos that ensued and he made his way through France and eventually got back to the UK. His journey took ten weeks. My brother died in 1996 and when his wife died three years later his step-daughter sent me his personal papers. It was with the arrival of these papers that I began to realise that what he had told us many years ago about his 'adventures' in France in 1940 was true. From these papers and other sources I have pieced together the story of his escape.

A young Lancashire lad of just nineteen, he had never travelled abroad before and he knew no French. Yet he managed, using his wits and a lot of luck, to travel through occupied and unoccupied France during June, July and August 1940, eventually reaching Switzerland, from where he returned to England via Spain and Portugal. After the war he did occasionally talk about his adventures in France, but we as a family were busy with our own lives and never pressed him for details of his escape.
Apart from myself, my two sisters and a cousin are the only close family who now remain and from them very little information was available to help flesh out the details of Dick's escape. It was agreed that he was stationed near Abbeville. My cousin remembered him saying that the personnel of the camp were awakened by the words, 'RAUS! RAUS!' The Germans had overrun the aerodrome and they were taken prisoner. They were marched along a road in a long column - long enough for the guards to be at quite a distance from my brother. So Dick took a chance when the guards were out of sight and went over the wall that bounded the road and escaped.
My cousin also remembered that Dick had been arrested in Port Vendres on the south coast of France. A woman he met there with another couple tried to pass him off as her husband to enable him to escape by ferry to North Africa with the French who were being given preference. However, an Englishwoman, recognizing Dick as being English, demanded to know why he should be included with the French group and not her. The ensuing argument was heard by the police who arrested him and marched him off in handcuffs.

One of my sisters remembered Dick saying he was in a cabbage field being shot at but, when and where that was, she couldn't say. My other sister remembered the letter that came saying he was missing. My own memory is equally vague. My brother was given to romancing. He enjoyed telling a good story. I remembered a tale about a baronness - Irish - with whom he stayed, who gave him one of her husband's suits - how he escaped from a prison and, in the process, injured his ankle - how he set off in a boat from the south coast of France and was shot at and, somewhere in my memory, a man who accompanied my brother for some part of the journey who was(here the story goes off into family speculation) perhaps an agent - somebody who knew his way around. But my brother had kissed the Blarney Stone and so who really knew what had happened to him? It is possible that no one in the family ever learned very much about Dick's escape. When he eventually returned to England he was probably told to keep secret the details of what had happened. It was common knowledge in the family, however, that he managed to reach Switzerland and from there he was sent to Portugal. He was flown back from Lisbon to Poole in Dorset and then, after debriefing, he rejoined a squadron at Manston.

There were many great escapes that have been well documented by those concerned. Unfortunately, what I have is only an outline of my brother's travels with many gaps in it. From about the 24th May to the 28th August Dick was on the run, trying to return to England. What is so fascinating to me is that he managed it at all and so I am writing his story, hoping that some of the gaps may, even at this date be filled.
Opening the envelope from his stepdaughter was like opening Dick's life again. Things he had touched - had used - that had been the means of bringing him safely back to his family were there. The first thing I found was a passport issued at the British Consulate in Geneva and dated 10th August1940. It gave his full name and he was described as a chauffeur. It included a photograph of a much-slimmed-down-brother, and this passport was perhaps the most significant article in the collection of papers. This confirmed that Dick had in fact travelled through France and made his way to Switzerland safely. The passport also included transit visas issued by the French, Spanish and Portugese Consulates in Geneva giving him permission to travel through France and Spain by train to Portugal. A receipt from a jeweller in Grenoble dated 14th August1940 shows that he stopped there - to change trains most likely. It may be that this was where he bought a watch that he later wore. From there he appears to have made his way safely to Lisbon. This is surprising as he spoke no French, Spanish or Portugese. Did he return with a companion and was this man the family thought was a returning agent? The family, knowing about Dick's impetuosity, either created this shadowy figure to explain his success in coping with this journey, or he did exist. If he had got into Spain on his own, there is little doubt he would have been interned. It is almost impossible now to imagine what it must have been like on trains in the south of France at that period. The French police (or some of them) may have checked passports and arrested suspicious persons or, on the other hand, some French police may have helped my brother. it is clear that, during the journey from Switzerland to Portugal, his transit visas gave him immunity from arrest.

There was also a British Airways flight ticket dated 28th August1940 which he used to return to Poole in England, probably by flying boat. By this time my mother had received only four messages relating to him. The first was a Field Postcard from France on the 24th May saying he was 'quite well'. This was followed by a note, hastily written on a piece of lined paper, that reached my mother on the 4th June. This said:

Dear Mum, You OK? In fact I suppose everybody's OK. Am a bit pushed for time so forgive brief missive.
More later.

Love, Dick
PS Send this letter to Grandma. Don't reply.

Perhaps the brevity is understandable if one remembers what was going on in France at the time. Then,on the 10th August a telegram from Dick arrived from Geneva. It said:
'Dear Mother.
Am well and safe. Shall be home near future. Stop.
Cheerio. Dick Clifford.

The other letter was from the Air Force Record Office stating that Dick was believed missing. My mother had been in communication with the Air Force regarding Dick and a letter dated the 15th August1940 informed her that he was posted as missing 'consequent upon the withdrawal of our Forces from the Continent. You will appreciate' it said, 'that your sone being missing does not necessarily mean he is killed or wounded.' Luckily Dick's telegram had already arrived. These few documents were the only evidence I had at first of Dick's escape from Occupied France. It would have been easy to leave things there but their arrival had aroused my curiosity. An article in 'Saga'about the Escape Lines caught my attention. I contacted the author, Mr. Stanton, who was most helpful. He told me that all personnel who escaped from occupied Europe would be debriefed as soon as they got back to England and it might be possible to obtain a copy of my brother's debriefing report from the Public Record Office. The report confirmed Dick's story and gave more details of his escape. Sixty years after the events it makes fascinating reading.

On the 26th May Dick had arrived at a deserted aerodrome near Nantes. He found a car and petrol and started to drive south. He picked up some French refugees at one point who appear to have travelled with him for much of the journey south. It took them about a fortnight to reach the south coast at Perpignan. At that time this part of France was crowded with people trying to escape - French, British and other nationals and quite a number of allied servicemen. Dick and his companions tried to get into Spain but at the frontier near St. Girons they were turned back by the Spanish. They then maade their way along the coast to Port Vendres which was a port of embarkation for the British, but by the time they got there it was too late. It appears that Dick separated from his companions at this point. He met a wealthy gentleman from Monte Carlo who had two women with him (these must have been the people referred to by my cousin) but they were unsuccessful in their attempt to get him on the ferry with them. He was arrested by the French police in Port Vendres and he mentions walking throught he streets in handcuffs. This had obviously stayed in his mind. Until that time he would have regarded the French as allies.

On this occasion he seems to have escaped without much difficulty and somehow managed to steal a motor boat. But he was arrested before he could get very far and again escaped. Either the camp was carelessly guarded, if at all, or by now Dick was becoming an experienced escapee. He next reached Argeles, where an English woman, a Mrs. Davis, put him up for the night. Then he got a lift on a diesel truck to Avignon and from there another lift took him as far as a bridge over the River Rhone. He continued walking in the general direction of Marseilles and spent the night before he reached that city in a small village on the outskirts. When he reached Marseilles he found accommodation in a Seamen's Mission where he stayed for about two weeks. Whilst there, he met several British soldiers and a group of American seamen. He decided to try for Spain again with one of the soldiers but they soon split up. Dick made his way alone via Bohen, Salon and Arles to Beziers where again he was arrested - and again he escaped to continue his journey westward through Narbonne to Perpignan.

It seems that the French authorities treated escapees like Dick in a variety of ways. The Garde Mobile gave him a 'sauf conduite' whilst others arrested him. This period must have tested Dick considerably. Luckily it was summer and sleeping in an orchard or wherever would not have been too uncomfortable but there is no information about how he obtained food or what he ate. On his return he mentioned very few people who had helped him and one can only speculate as to how he survived. Of the people who helped him, those he specifically mentioned were Mrs. Davis and a Russian woman who was a refugee. But there must have been others (or so we would hope). Certainly this part of his debriefing suggests that, apart from the two weeks in Marseilles, Dick was constantly on the move. He now gave up the idea of getting into Spain and decided to try for Switzerland. Whilst in the Perpignan area he met a Czech who spoke English. Together, with some money given to them by the Russian woman, they took the bus northwards. How much of the jouney they walked and how much they went by bus is not clear, though Dick says they 'walked to Andancee and on to Vienne'. The Germans had troops in Lyons so they 'decided to go to Grenoble'. They walked another 9 kilometres from Vienne and 'stayed the night in a tramshed'. In this way, walking and sleeping rough, they reached Annecy, where they tried to obtain further 'sauf conduites'. This time Dick was asked why he had not been demobilised and presumably because he had no satisfactory explanation he was arrested again and put in 'a subterranean prison'. But the Czech was allowed to go free. Dick was beaten up and generally badly treated in the prison. Whether this was by the inmates or warders is not clear. perhaps the French authorities thought he was a German spy - he was tall and fair-haired. On the other hand this was about the time of the attack by the British fleet on French warships in Oran so it would not be surprising if many French people were anti-British. Dick became ill, possibly as a result of the harsh treatment, and was moved to the barracks from where he escaped yet again.

The final part of his journey to Switzerland he describes vividly - the railway line, the barbed wire, the sentry patrolling the border and the vineyards on the Swiss side. He made an unsuccessful first attempt(too noisy) and then was across. In Switzerland he wasn't asked to show any papers and soon arrived in Geneva and, from then onwards, was helped by the British Consulate. His journey from Geneva to Lisbon appears to have been uneventful. My brother's debriefing statement is now at the Public Record Office. That I was able to obtain a copy of it has helped me gain further information about his escape from France. When Dick was on the run there were no official escape lines. These were set up later. The designation of 'free runner' was given to those men who, like Dick, made their own way home. It seems to me a very appropriate description of my brother. After serving in the Air Force throughout the war and returning from France to be posted to Manston to take part in the Battle of Britain, he 'escaped' to new Zealand for a time and then to Canada and America before returning to England and settling down in Yeovil, Dorset. He never returned to France

One can imagine the tremendous relief felt by our mother and members of the family when this telegram arrived. There had been no news of him between the 4th June and the 10th August, about nine weeks. In fact he had been posted missing and a letter from the Air ministry to this effect did arrive in mid August, shortly after the telegram from Geneva.

printed with permission copywright bbc.co.uk/ww2peopleswar'

[bobbysocks]

I, Khukhrikov, Iurii Mikhailovich, am a native Muscovite, in the fourth or even fifth generation. My ancestors were Dorogomilovo coachmen. My great grandfather, Stepan Khukhrikov, was a foreman of the Dorogomilovo coachmen. He drove cargo and passengers in the area of the Kiev Station. There used to be a Khukhrikov Lane, End, and Market in that area. The Khukhrikov Market was before the Borodino Bridge if you walked from the MID (the Ministry of Foreign Affairs), when descending toward the Moskva River. I was born in a military family. My father and uncle were military specialists. They had fought starting from 1914, and after the revolution worked in the Main Engineering Directorate of the General Staff starting in 1921. Father had the rank of a colonel, and uncle -- a lieutenant general. I was born in 1924 and lived and went to school at Chistye Prudy, opposite the Coliseum, now it is the Sovremennik Theater.

From 1930 to 1941 I went to School No.311 on Lobkovskii Lane, now it's called Makarenko Lane. I went to school with Iurii Nagibin [a well-known Soviet writer] (that's his mother's last name, back then he was Frumkin). Also with Zhenia Rudneva [Evgeniia Rudneva -- future female night bomber pilot]. She was older than me, and was already in the Aviation Institute before the war. Such were the people with whom I got to go to school.

In 1940, by fair means or foul, I joined an aviation club. They had turned me away from everywhere -- said I was too young. But I finally got what I wanted, and they let me in on the condition that I would bring a note from my parents saying they were not opposed. For the first time I took off into the air on a U-2 in September 1940, at the Kraskovo Airfield near Moscow.

In 1941 I was already 17. We had already flown from Kraskovo to Scherbinka, near Podolsk. There was a very flat field there. We organized an airfield, set up tents, and continued flying. On 1 May 1941 I, as the aviation club student, participated in the last peacetime parade on the Red Square.

In July 1941 I graduated from the club. They gave me a certificate of completion. It would help me out a lot later. All aviation clubs sent their students on to aviation academies. We were supposed to go to Tbilisi. But because the war started, all 1941 graduates were sent to Saratov, where we started flying SBs. They called it a "candle". It was completely unprotected, and besides that, made of duralumin -- any bullet or shell fragment caused a fire. I started flying it, and then an order came from the Defense Ministry: "Transfer the Saratov academy to the Airborne Forces". Soon they brought in gliders: US-4, US-5, Sh-10, G-9, "Stakhanovets". These were all sports models. There were also ones for airborne troops -- "RotFront-8" and "RotFront-11". Experienced instructors also came -- Iudin, Anokhin, and others. We immediately started flying gliders. We would be towed by U-2, R-5, SB, Douglas, and others. This way we gained experience. The plane would make a circle and at the height of 500-600 meters we would detach. We circled and were supposed to land near a landing sign. You couldn't afford to make a mistake in these gliders. For example, after making the last turn, if you miscalculated, you could fall before the landing signs, there was nothing to pull you up -- no engine! So you would fall. That's why we made our approach aiming to overshoot. And in order to descend, we banked and dived, which allowed us to lose altitude, and then landed with a minor deviation. We flew not in Saratov, but about 30 kilometers from the city, German villages were there. The residents had been deported. Villages remained unoccupied. That was where we lived and flew. Wide Volga steppe. A nice place to fly a glider.

Besides that I went through training as a diversionary group commander: explosives, hand to hand combat, fought dogs. Yes! Yes! We put on gloves, coats, and fought dogs. Like everyone, in October 1941, I submitted a request to be transferred to fighter aviation. It worked! On December 31 I was transferred to a fighter aviation academy. There we immediately began flying UT-1, UT-2, I-16. Our Belyi Kliuch Airfield was located 18 kilometers from Ul'ianovsk, not far from the Volga. Excellent airfield, good approaches.

Yes, I forgot to mention that in October I and my comrade Boria Bezrukov, with whom we had gone to school and the aviation club, and later found ourselves at the Saratov academy, had to deliver some things to Moscow. They were bales, boxes -- we came, signed, turned over the cargo. Then Boria and I decided, as patriots, to go to the front.

We infiltrated to the forward positions. Found rifles, fired them. 45mm guns were deployed next to us, real soldiers were there. Already experienced people. The Special Department worked well in that area. They found us out, that we were strangers:

"Who are you? Where from?" We told them everything that happened.

"What do you have?" That's where the certificates from the aviation club and the papers about our trip to Moscow helped us out.

"Get out and don't come back!" We picked up and ran. We got lucky with transport -- came to Saratov and no one found out about it. All of that took no more than a week, at least it went unnoticed. But I did get the "For the Defense of Moscow" medal. After I left for Ul'ianovsk from Saratov, Boria was killed. When we would fly gliders at night, 8 men sat in each glider as passengers. He happened to fly as a passenger. The glider caught up with the plane, the cable caught on a wing and tore it off. Everyone was killed.

We started to train in Ul'ianovsk -- and then an order came to retrain for IL-2.

A.D. The aircraft were delivered?

Yes. They brought in more than 30 from Kuibyshev.

I graduated from the Ul'ianovsk academy in 1943. Why so long? I was lucky! Many graduated after the war ended! They picked out only the most gifted, so they would teach us as little as possible -- there was no fuel.

So they sent us to a reserve airfield at Diad'kov, which was 18 kilometers north of Dmitrov. That's where pilots learned combat skills -- bombing, shooting. All of that took literally several hours. Possibilities were limited. A buyer from the front would come -- and we would go with him. Zhora Parshin came for us -- he was an ace! A ground attack pilot! He shot down ten aircraft in an IL! He fought from the first day of the war and to the end. Excellent man. I met him often later in Leningrad on the Liteinyi Avenue. It was 1944 when he took us. We found ourselves in the 566th Ground Attack Aviation Regiment. This regiment was the first to get its own honorary name -- Solnechnogorsk. It fought there, at Moscow. Everyone died, to a man. From 1941 only Afonia Machnyi remained, and even he lost his mind after half a hundred sorties, from 1942 -- only Leva Korchagin remained, from 1943 -- a little more, and so on. During the war the regiment lost 105 pilots and 50 gunners. 28 of us came to the division -- 15 were killed. Such were the losses.

I was put into the 1st Squadron of the 566th Regiment. Mykhlik was the squadron commander. Future Twice the Hero of the Soviet Union. We were lucky -- it was a period between operations, there was an opportunity to train, fly in formation, go into the zone. War began, and we started working at full steam in the Baltics. The regiment mostly fought in the Central and Leningrad fronts.

We fought in IL-2. It was an excellent aircraft for those times! Carried 600 kilograms of bombs, 8 rockets, 300 23mm shells for VIa cannon (150 per gun), and 1800 rounds for each machine gun -- 3600 rounds. The gunner had a 12.7mm Berezin machine gun, 10 DAG-10 distance aviation grenades for the protection of the lower rear hemisphere. If a German appeared, you would press a switch, and a grenade would fall on a parachute and explode 150 meters away. Besides that, an infantry submachine gun and grenades.

A.D. They say IL-2 was difficult to handle?

No. Not at all. I-16 -- yes. Especially when landing.

A.D. How useful do you think the rear gunner was?

The gunner was necessary. His usefulness is beyond question.

A.D. Did you already have all metal IL-2?

Yes. All aircraft were already equipped with radios. The only thing was that we sat on gasoline: a tank under me, a tank in front, a tank between me and the gunner. We were all in gasoline.

We started in the Baltics, went through Prussia, and finished in Wittenberg, from where we flew sorties to Koenigsberg and even Danzig.

We got hit a couple of times. A shell hit a wing on the twenty-eighth sortie. We made it back miraculously -- the hole was about a meter in size. If a bullet hits, the smell of burned metal can be felt. I smelled it. Turned my head -- there it was, a hole. But I was lucky -- the shock wave and fragments went to the gunner. His legs were mangled. Communications were disrupted. We landed in Wittenberg. I taxied, turned off the engine, jumped out onto the wing -- the gunner, Viktor Shakhaev, Siberian, born in 1926, was just lying there. Guys ran to us, pulled him out. Barely saved his legs. But it turned out that I was also hit. A fragment scratched the back of my head. Where did it manage to penetrate? They wanted to put me in a hospital, but I refused. War ended for me in Wittenberg. I had flown 84 sorties.

In the end of May 1945 men were selected from the regiments of our division for the Victory Parade. They picked out men about 1 meter 80 centimeters tall and sent them to Koenigsberg to drill. Our sergeant was a brilliant drill instructor. So he drilled us. In the beginning of June we were put on a train and rode toward Moscow. There we were formed into a combined battalion of pilots of the 3rd Belorussian Front. Our commander was General Prutkov, commander of the 1st Guards Stalingrad Ground Attack Air Division. They gave us tunics, boots, caps. It was a merry, nice atmosphere. We lived in the Chernyshevskie barracks, not far from Shabolovka. Where did we walk? VDNKh, at the Crimean Bridge, some other places. Special Voroshilov rations in the mess, even white bread on plates. I must say at the front the food was also excellent. The parade was on June 24. I also went to the banquet.

A.D. Did you fly as a wingman or a leader?

Everyone was at first a wingman at the front. Vasia Mykhlik and I flew about 40 sorties. He went to Moscow to get his Star (Gold Star of the Hero of the Soviet Union - trans.) and came back only in the end of April. I was already a leader. The last two sorties I already led eight -- basically a squadron. That was May 8. The first sortie was at 10 in the morning, and the second around 2pm. To the Zemland Peninsula. We worked over its very edge. Returned. They refueled us for the third sortie. We taxied, waited for the order. The Chief of Staff Nikolai Ivanovich Borkov ran to us: "Iura, taxi back. It's over!" We turned off our engines, fired into the air in joy. The war was over! And then I flew ILs and MIGs for a long time.

A.D. They say that there were 7 killed gunners for each killed pilot, is that true?

No. Let me explain. We had 105 pilots and 50 gunners killed, why? Because the regiment fought from the beginning to the end of the war. The first half of the war in one-seater aircraft. And the second half -- in two-seaters. And most of the time, they died together. A ground attack aircraft pilot, according to the statistics, managed to fly 7-8 sorties and then died. Such were statistics.

A.D. Were you escorted by fighters?

Always. Very often during the Prussian operation we were escorted by Normandie-Niemen.

A.D. Were missions assigned to eights?

Not necessarily. Depended on the mission.

A.D. What missions did you get most often?

Usually the bombing of the forward positions. I went to reconnoiter on foot once. The infantry commander said: "You guys don't have to shoot. Fly here and show yourselves. That would be enough. And if you bomb, you'll always be welcome guests!" Sunk ships in ports, 4 times flew against airfields. That was scary business! They were well protected. Worked on armor concentrations. Well, against those targets armies -- hundreds of aircraft -- were sent, in order to wipe everything off the face of the earth.

A.D. What was more dangerous, enemy anti-aircraft artillery or fighters?

AA artillery. Of course, in the beginning of the war fighters really made the lives of ground attack pilots difficult. But by the end of the war -- AA artillery. That was scary business! Several dozen small caliber AA guns were deployed and would fire into the same spot. And all around black clouds from medium caliber AA guns. You would fly and not know which of them would... kiss you. Of course, we performed an anti-AAA maneuver.

We usually flew 50 by 30 -- 50 meter interval and 30 meter distance. When approaching the frontline we spread out -- 150 meter interval. And threw our planes side to side. Then we would get into a circle above the target and start working it. Little ones [fighters] would cover us. Those were the mechanics.

A.D. How many passes would you make?

It depended on the situation. There could be such counteraction -- Lord help us! Then it would only be one pass. You would use everything at once -- rockets, guns, bombs. If the counteraction was not that great, then several -- 4, 6 times. The leader would snake away, allowing the wingmen to catch up. We approached the target in formation, if weather allowed at the altitude of 1200-1400 meters, and departed after assembling, also in formation, at the same altitude.

A.D. What was the most vulnerable spot of IL-2?

The engine. Wings were fine, more or less. If a fuel tank was hit, that wasn't bad either, why? When approaching the target we opened carbon dioxide canisters, which filled the empty space of fuel tanks. If a bullet pierced the body and hit a fuel tank, the sealer would fill the hole, fuel would not leak out, there would be no vapor, and consequently no combustion.

A.D. How effective were rockets?

They were 82mm rockets. Of course, we fired them into the general vicinity. But at the forward positions targets were all over, so heavy was the concentration of forces and vehicles. A group would work -- one missed, another would hit the target for sure. We also carried RS-132, but only 2 of them. In that case we took less bombs -- only 200 kg. But usually we took RS-82, sometimes 16 of them.

A.D. And did you install 37mm guns?

We had 37mm guns, 40 shells per gun. I didn't fly one of those. They didn't work out.

A.D. Was the German infantry well covered?

They covered themselves in only one way -- concentration of AA defenses. Not single guns, but concentrated in quadrants. I would sometimes count up to 40 guns -- an uninterrupted stream of bullets. Small caliber AA artillery was especially dangerous.

A.D. Did you attack from a dive?

Always from a dive, 30-40 degrees. You wouldn't have time to fire everything at a steeper angle. 30-40 degrees -- that is the angle that provided the complete use of all weapons.

A.D. Did you use anti-tank bombs?

Yes. We took about 280 of them. There were also 25 kg, 50 kg, and 100 kg bombs -- 4 bomb hatches, 600 kg load. We would bomb from the altitude not lower than 1400-1500 meters. If there were low clouds, 400-600 meters, but then we put in delayed fuses.

A.D. About how many sorties did you fly per day?

Sometimes 3... but that was a lot. A lot.

If someone says it wasn't scary -- they're lying. The moment of expectation was the scariest and most unpleasant. For example they would say: "1400 such and such airfield". You sit there: 1400 -- nothing, 1430 -- nothing, 1500 -- no order! Or you sit in the cockpit, waiting for a rocket, and nothing. Legs start shaking. A real panic starts. After all, there was no guarantee that you wouldn't be shot down during the mission. When a rocket would shoot up into the air your head would start working in a different direction, panic would be turned off. Then there was an unpleasant feeling when we approached the target but would not be attacking it immediately. They would be prepared for us and fire. After the attack started -- that was it, the pilot was at work, looking for targets, pushing triggers, rockets, guns, machine guns, pulling the ASSh-41 (emergency bomb release. Bombs could be released by the buttons, or if you wanted to release them all at once, you pulled that lever).

A.D. How was the effectiveness of a sortie determined?

Everyone had a gun camera, which was working when you were firing the guns. If you set a vehicle on fire, it wold be recorded. If you worked a tank, that would also be recorded. Besides that, gunners could have wide area cameras. There would usually be a couple of them per group. It covered a large area, and after we landed the film was printed. Besides that, when approaching the front line we established communications with the observer, usually a representative of the air division. We could recognize his voice. He would literally aim us: "Guys, a little to the right. OK. Now." Gave us the permission to attack. Told us where the bombs were falling. On the second pass introduced corrections. His confirmations were taken into account.

A.D. And how did you break in new pilots?

The usual. After the school pilots were sent to a reserve air regiment. There they passed through a short combat course. Bombing and strafing ground targets with cannon and machine guns. Then a buyer would come in. We were considered to be relatively ready for combat work.

A.D. And in the regiment?

After the above procedure we were flown in to the regiment and allocated to squadrons. Squadron commander would fly with each one, taking measure of everyone's level of preparedness, and picked out his wingman. I immediately became squadron commander's partner. I flew only with him. I loved flying and was almost always first.

A.D. Were there any IL-10 in your unit?

Of course. But only after the war. Their qualities were the same. Same weight, gunner, crew commander, pilot. The structure was more compact. Wing area was a little smaller. Same armament. Two cannon and two machine guns. Slightly different range. But mainly it was the same thing.

A.D. Did you ever hit friendlies?

We had Twice the Hero [of the Soviet Union] Len'ka (Leonid) Beda, we had gone to school together. An untidy person. Although, you shouldn't say anything bad about the dead. Once a general came, we were formed up. The general noticed him:

"Last name?"

"Beda" ("Beda" means "trouble" in Russian -- trans.)

"I am asking you what your last name is!"

"Beda, comrade commander!"

Len'ka killed 118 men at the end of the war. It wasn't his fault, they told him before the mission: "Bomb that target". But he had to get there first. Maybe 30 minutes. While they were flying there, the situation changed. We captured that place, but no one reported to him. The group worked the target -- 118 of our soldiers died. He returned, they tore off his shoulder boards, but immediately investigated, returned them. Later he was the Air Force Commander of the Belorussian Military District.

A.D. Have you ever encountered enemy aircraft?

I've never had to participate in a dogfight, but the rear gunner didn't sit without work -- after pulling out from an attack he fired at ground targets.

A.D. Were there any cases of cowardice?

There were single occurrences of cowardice. There was one time, when N. was leading a large group, about 20 aircraft, he turned away before reaching the target, the entire group returned to the airfield. Court martial. Gave him seven years. But he fought well afterward -- 4 Orders of the Red Banner. There were sly people as well. A small number, but there were some. He would gain altitude. We fly, attack, but he just hangs there, then descends to 1000 meters, releases the bomb load, gets in formation. But we see everything.

A.D. Did you beat him up?

Warned him. Told him: "Sasha, you do this one more time, we'll shoot you down". He was disrupting our interaction! We flew at a distance of 600 meters, he climbed, therefore the distance became 1200. Interaction was disrupted. The warning worked.

A.D. Were there penal ground attack squadrons?

No. They would send offending officers to us, not necessarily pilots. They would fly 10 sorties as rear gunners.

A.D. What was considered a combat sortie?

Only bombing enemy targets with photo confirmation.

A.D. Did you lose aircraft for technical reasons?

Technicians worked well. If a plane didn't return for technical reasons, something happened, that was very serious. Such occurrences were investigated.

A.D. Did you have to manipulate the engine's modes of operation?

Yes, of course. It was easy to do.

A.D. Did you use any special tactics?

Yes. You would make the first pass, second one, then they would say from the ground: "Wait a little, when the infantry passes, we'll redirect you to other targets". So we work this target, stay in the air, and then we work other targets based on the commands from the observation post.

A.D. Did you fly during operational pauses?

The most intense activity was during operations. Then we flew a lot, but for that time was needed, and corresponding preparation. Crews, equipment were being prepared. During pauses between operations we flew anyway. Performed tactical missions. Of course, with smaller forces. We would be sent to support infantry or to destroy columns on the march. For example, Pokryshkin flew more than 500 sorties. Participated in 84 dogfights. Shot down 59 aircraft. I also have 84 combat sorties. But if you translate our effectiveness into money, I wouldn't be short of him. Be sure of that. Of course, ground attack pilots' hands are covered in blood up to the elbows. But it was our duty, and I think we did a first class job. Did everything we could. Well, and God didn't pass us by with "crosses".

[bobbysocks]

On June 19, 2010, at fundraiser for Honor Flight called “A Night With Heroes.”
four highly distinguished WW2 pilots ( Bud Anderson 357thFG, Morris Magnuson 36th FG, Alden Rigby 352nd FG, and Doolittle Raider Dick Cole )presented a panel discussion on their experience in combat. Each pilot gave a 10 minute presentation on their service, followed by an hour or so of Q&A from the audience.

It is broken up into 4 segmants from each pilot...pretty good stuff. nice to hear it in their words and with their sense of humor and sentiment.

http://www.johnmollison.com/JM/Honor_Flight.html

[bobbysocks]

found a great site with interviews of soviet flighter jocks...

http://mig3.sovietwarplanes.com/pilots/pilots.htm

great stories and pics. here's one to entice you to go there and read.

Sergei Isakovich Nasilevec ( much more of the entire story at the site )

— You came to Stalingrad school in May 1940 and begun to fly straight away?

Yes. There were no U-2s in the school. We began flying UTI.

— How did you like Ishak (Donkey – a nick name earned by I-16 for similar sounding of it’s official name)?

A lot of pilots were killed in flight accidents. It was such a strict plane, that chief of school, when we graduated, said:
— If you mastered I-16, you may fly any other type of airplane. This is a strictest plane of them all. There is no pilot, who can’t land any other aircraft after I-16.

— Did you fly Chaika (Gull - nickname earned by I-153 for it’s gull wing shaped upper wings)?

Yes, it’s almost the same as I-16. You could train on both of them.

— There was no dual-control Chaikas.

No, there weren’t. It was lighter than I-16. I-16 was very strict on landing. It was like a spindle. On I-16 you had to keep your legs in tension all the time…

— In your voenniy bilet it is written that you kept studying till June 1943?

Yes. We wanted to go to the front, but we were not allowed… And we were told:
— You will study new equipment…How many flying hours you had when graduated from school?

About 250 flying hours, no less…

— How you were told about war?

We were graduated that day. There was an order already, we were directed to our new units, received suitcases, two uniforms in them, for daily use and for holidays, sheets for bed, everything really. We were told that we will go to celebrate at Volga shore. We came to Stalingrad, boarded a ferry and crossed the river. Everything was ready there, wind orchestra and dance area, a lot of people came for dances. Then suddenly, it wasn’t 12 yet:
— Alarm, flight crews to the school, immediately!
To school, fine. No one objected. We loaded to the ferries, and just when we were about to disembark, it was announced:
— There will be an announcement on radio by Molotov...
«War!» We were called back to the school; our suitcases were taken away… We began retraining…

— Did Timoshenko’s order about graduating in Sergeants rank touch you?

Just when I started studying this happened. Half of those who applied had failed exams on purpose, but almost no one was expelled. Whether you liked it, or not, you had to study.

— You graduated as Sergeant, were about to leave to your new unit, but were returned?

Yes. We were called back and told:
There will be a new plane.
A week later we received a Yak-1. Chief of school summoned us: Comrades! I’m talking to you not as with cadets, but as with pilots. You have to master new type of airplane. But there is only one airplane of this type.
I felt chills at my back. I don’t know this plane, and it’s a single seat…
"I," He continued, — Will check this plane. I’ll try it out in the air, fly in the zone. Then I will return, land, showing you the landing. Then we will decide shifts, and we all will fly it in turns...
I was the third one. We all made 10 flights each on Yak.

— How you felt Yak-1 after Ishak?

Excellent. After Ishak — «rest and smoke». And how it landed… Like by guitar string.
We kept training in I-16s… When time came to be sent to the front, we were given simple backpack, tablet…

— Your flight school was evacuated?

We were evacuated in 1941, when Rostov had fallen, it was warm yet. Airplanes were sent away earlier. We, personnel, crossed Volga by ship to Baskunchak, from ship we moved to train to Chelyabinsk, and to the town Kustanai. That’s in Kazakhstan. River Tobol. And training again. Everybody wanted to go to the front, while commanders were weaving fists at us:
— You are ready, but wait for an order. You are in reserve.
Then, a group was gathered very fast, six men, — I, Alexandr Matashov, Vladimir Morozov, Nikolay Lgotnii — he lived in Moscow, — We were loaded on train and sent to Moscow to Directorate. From there we were sent to 3rd Ukrainian Front. We almost by foot travelled to small railway station «Dedovichi», before Dnepropetrovsk. Germans were still in Zaporozhye, but they were already on the run…

— It was 1943 already?

Yes. June 1943, it was middle of Kursk operation.

— And where you ended up?

3rd Ukrainian Front. 161st fighter regiment. Simple, not Guards.

— You were a lieutenant then, or still a sergeant?

Junior Lieutenant.

— Until 1943 there were junior commanders, senior commander. Then there were officers ranks introduced, with shoulder board — «white guards»… What was your attitude towards it?

At first “officer” was indecent, and then we got used to it…

— There must have been people who were grumbling about these changes?

Of course. It is normal situation…

— You came to the regiment, say: «Hello!», and what in reply?

Our documents were checked, who we are, how and where we flew. A closed envelop was opened, commanders read the notes and divided us:
— You go to 2nd squadron, you to 3rd…
I was sent to 2nd. Commander was Andryushenko Alexandr Mitrofanovich, he lived in Voroshilovgrad, a former civilian pilot, good commander, nice man. His deputy was Lieutenant Korneev Mikhail — he lived in Moscow. During war he became senior lieutenant, and he became Capitan after the war. He was such a crook… After the war he was arrested and stripped of all awards for some reason.

— Who was a regiment commander then?

Kaftanov. He burned even worse than I did. How it happened: our regiment suffered losses and a few pilots remained. But it was needed to fly. And regiment commanders decided to fly themselves. Four pilots flew out in a group. They returned damaged, but alive. Regiment commander landed, but his landing gear did not extend, so he had to belly land. Perhaps, his wing structure was also damaged — he rolled over nose and caught fire, we couldn’t even come to his help. I remember how I sat near my airplane fully ready, with parachute on — we were supposed to take off on escort mission when they landed. When he ignited, I dropped parachute, and we ran with other guys towards his plane. Shells began exploding. We stuck our noses into the ground; it was senseless to try to help him while they exploded. Firing stopped, and we run close. We lifted airplane by its wing, and he walked out of fire alive. He was saved by leathern overcoat. He covered himself by it, except his nose, which was completely burned away.
Commander was absent for about four or five month, we even thought that his days were over... Then he returned to the regiment. He was operated on his face, and even his nose was reconstructed by plastic surgeons…
(On 06.08.44 regiment commander Pavel Kaftanov, with his wingman Boris Kobyzev were ordered to attack a group of 4 Ju-87 covered by 12 FW-190, which were going to bomb river crossing. Soviet pilots managed to down leading bomber, what caused other bombers to drop bombs without aiming. River crossing stayed intact. Two more FW-190 were shot down, but both La-5s were severely damaged…
Burnt, unconscious pilot was taken into hospital in Leningrad (note – city was still in blockade), where he was placed in a morgue... A call from I. Zhuravlev, Commander of 14th Air Army, made medics check Kaftanovs body again. He was still alive!
Pavel Kaftanov returned to active service after treatment, and quit active service in 1959 at a rank of General-Major)

— Who was your wing leader?

In our pair we both were newcomers: Victor Fedoseev and I. I became a wingman.

— How it was decided who was a leader?

Perhaps, commander decided that way because I was younger. Victor looked more adult. But there was no difference in combat. If leader was attacking, I had to cover him. When he was done attacking, I begun attack run — he had to cover me. But there was no difference in combat…

— So, your pair was a “floating” one?

Yes, yes.

— You were in a regiment, which was equipped with La-5s or La-5FNs?

La-5FN appeared only by the end of war.

— Before you came to the regiment you haven’t flown La-5s, so how long it took you to master it enough to fly combat missions?

Less, then you are sitting with me. Taxied, took off. It was a war…

— In different regiments commanders’ thought differently about training. What was your thought about La-5 after Yak?

There was almost no difference. The only difference was that I was in love with this plane. La-5 had air cooled engine. Yak had water cooled one…

— Your La-5 had a gargrot, or you canopy was already droplet-like?

With gargrot…

— What about La-5 armaments — were two cannons enough?

It was good. Good cannons. If you fired from both cannons, it felt as if airplane stopped in flight.

— Germans had 200 rounds per cannon, we had 100-120. Isn’t’t that not enough?

What could we do, there was no way to squeeze in more. It was enough for a fight, if you don’t waste it. If you will fire at target – enough, if just towards enemy in that general direction – two hundred will not be enough. Just like with rifle or pistol…

— Lavochkins and LaGGs had weak landing gear, so they couldn’t withstand side loads. Have you had such problems?

Never heard.

— It is also known that if Las throttle was given full throttle on landing, it had a tendency to roll?

You have to know your airplane. What kind of pilot are you, if you cannot predict your airplanes reaction…

— Do you remember your first combat mission?

First combat mission was at 3rd Ukrainian Front. We entered a fight, and I didn’t complete my first turn, when my tail was hit, and it fell off…

— That is, you were shot down in your first flight?

Yes.

— Who you fought against?

What do you mean against whom? Against Germans. «Focke-Wulfs»…
All my back was scratched down to the butt. I was lucky to open canopy. I landed on neutral strip, closer to our trenches. Germans wanted to capture me, but our artillery covered me. I had to lie on the ground for over an hour, like under umbrella. Then a feeling appeared — our soldiers waited for me, it was time to escape.

— Weren’t you disoriented? You were sure, where were Germans and our forces?

Why, I knew exactly. I saw it from the air, where Dnepr goes…
When we arrived to the regiment, Zaporozhye was still occupied; commander invited us to that same area — to show how land forces fight each other, so that pilots would see it from the ground. We came to the trenches, which were dug through the bushes… We were picking berries from those bushes, while commander showed us the situation... At that time Messerschmitts were flying low, just above ground — zoom-zoom. They caught our pilots from below…
That’s how they caught me…
We didn’t see them, and second pair didn’t see them too. So they hit me, and tail fell off. La-5 was made of wood, except, longerons were made of metal and engine frame, all the rest was made of wood…

— How long it took you to return to your regiment?

It was close by… frontline no further than 5 kilometers away… Our commanders were informed by ground forces and sent a truck after me.

— Weren’t you accused of loosing airplane?

No, war is war…

— When you made it to our forces, did you left your parachute behind?

Of course I dropped it. Germans used it for aiming. I was lucky to be able to make it out of there.

— What was your personal weapon?

TT Pistol.

— Did you fly with nine rounds, or with eight?

No, we did not place a round in the barrel, what if I hit it by accident… But I filled two pockets with rounds…

— After returning, you received a new plane straight away or had to wait?

There were few planes remaining. And there were several men older then we were, also young, but with more combat experience. We were sent to Gorkii after new planes.

— Did this misfortune in your first fight affect you?

I was young, and everything was fine. War is war… We had to continue fighting.
But I know about such stuff. After descent in Moldavia was dropped and we returned back several men refused to jump. They were court martialled and got eight years each for breaking an oath. There was a moment, when instinct fights brains.
My fellow men, we jumped together… And they stopped. You could shoot them on site, they won’t jump. Descent brigade commanders mother, a 79 years old woman had climbed to the training mast to show those boys:
— Look boys, I’m going to jump.
There were so many steps, and she needed help to climb up there. And she did jump with parachute; she was hooked to the training parachute and carefully brought down…

— You accomplished one mission, and were sent to Gorkii, and then regiment was pulled back. How long did it last?

I returned from Gorkii, fought for some time and then we were pulled out. We came there at winter time, and by spring we were at 3rd Pribaltiiskii Front, there we were based near French “Normandia”. «Normandia» was formed in Tula, they flew Yaks, we La-5s. And we had not a regiment formed, but whole division. Division commander Colonel Andreev was a friend of Marshal Novikov. We received La-5 airplanes at Gorkii plant, new ones.

— Did you have a possibility to choose airplanes?

Yes. They stood in rows — choose any one you would like. I bought my plane for a pack of cigarettes. A boy said to me:
— Man, for cigarettes I’ll show you best airplanes. Go over there, planes there are excellent! They, — he said, — are made of dry wood, from pre-war stocks.
He showed me:
— This one, number 25.
Airplane I got was a good one, but engines were assembled by children, and when we ferried airplanes from Gorkii, one cylinder fell off almost completely. I was covered by hot oil, and flew over Volga, while commander talked to me over radio:
— Hold on, Serezha, hold on, hold on, my dear friend. Hold on, if you will fall here, you will drown.
I made it to base, engine did not stall, but I landed soaked in oil. When engine cowl was opened, two cylinder heads were almost completely torn off…

— You were formed in ZAP?

Yes, this ZAP was at Seima station, it’s near Dzerzhinsk and Gorkii… There was GUTAP. Pilots were trained there for fighters and shturmoviks, there were a lot of planes.
We were there until January, and then we flew to Tula, town or village Volyntsevo. There our division was formed completely.

— Did you fly training missions in ZAP?

Of course. We flew a lot. Flew in pairs, new pilots came. We fired at cones too. There was a lot of training.

— How your planes were painted?

When I just came to the regiment, color was gray-green, gray with some sand, in camouflage. My No25 was pure green without any cammo…

— In which clothes you usually flew?

In flight suits at summer. At winter: trousers, fur coat…

— Did you have a leather coat?

No, there were no leather ones.

— What about Reglan coats?

No. Regiment commander had one old raglan, which saved him in the fire. We didn’t have one. We had fur coats.

— What kind of helms you had, our or German?

Let me show – and we can make a photo.

— How you were fed at the front?

No one was fed like pilots.

— And in the rear?

Fine. Everyone was fed great in aviation.

— How radio equipment worked?

Good… We already had radios.

— Were you keeping discipline in the radio communications or not?

It was differently… If we flew in a group with Korneev, he told us:
— Well, boys, let’s sing!
And he began singing… We helped him. He was a young man, large built…

— You fly singing, and here is a German pair attacks your group, how you would warn the others?

No one singed in combat. There is no time for that…

— Suggest, you saw an enemy, what was your actions? One hand on the stick, other on throttle? How you controlled prop blade pitch?

What for? I enter a fight with everything ready. There was no time for pitch control, move it to the front all the way… Only throttle and cannons. Start maneuvering as much as your strength allows you. So much that your head would spin.

— You fought mainly on horizontal or vertical maneuvers?

In initial meeting – in horizontal. Then – how it will go. If you are hit, like I was, here in horizontal — give foot in to try to extinguish the flame. If unsuccessful, — break away from the fight and go as far as you can towards your home base, gaining speed while engine works.

— How many enemy planes you shot down?

Six in all. Up till the last fight — four: «rama» (“Window frame” was a nickname of FW-189 reconaissance airplane), then three more — one «Messerschmitt» and two «Focke-Wulf 190». On 6 September 1944 I brought down two more in one fight, last one by ramming.
First one was «rama». We arrived to the 3rd Pribaltiiskii front, Pushkinskie Gory and Opochka, it’s on the River Velikaya, further on was town Ostrov. We went with Viktor Fedoseev on patrol to cover our troops. We arrived to designated spot, everything was fine. Clouds were a bit high. Then over radio we were told:
— Small ones, there is an artillery correcting airplane above you. Try to take it off.
For that we had to fly away, hide above clouds, Otherwise we couldn’t catch it, because FW-189 pilots when noticed that we were trying to intercept him would half-roll and dive straight down. If I would try to follow him, it was grave almost for sure. I wouldn’t catch him, because it was heavier… Then it made a sharp pull out above ground. Fighter had a large procorf, so if I would try to repeat his maneuver I would hit ground by belly and crash… That’s almost what happened to me.
Viktor ordered:
— Gaining altitude.
We gained altitude away from the front line, located him through holes in the clouds. Found him. I said:
— Viktor, I see him.
I was closer, from left side. Viktor ordered from behind:
— Attack!
I said:
— I won’t attack right now, let’s get closer to the clouds, and then I’ll hit him from the clouds.
— It’s up to you, I’ll cover.
I looked around, everything was clear. Engine worked like watches. I made a turn, approached from side accurately. I thought that I will strike him from the side... I thought too long — there were gunners in the rear. I just made a turn to start attack run, when he made half-roll and went down. I followed him and shouted to Viktor:
— Cover me!
I followed him, and pressed triggers with all force I had, tracers disappeared in it, but rama kept going down. I couldn’t catch it; it extended away, extended… I kept firing. Then Viktor yelled:
— EARTH!
I pulled stick as hard as I could, and blacked out. Thanks God, I made it, turned around. Then I noticed a pillow of black smoke.
— Alive? — Viktor shouted.
I replied:
— I’m alive.
— Look at the ground, he’s burning!
We returned, and regiment commander was waiting for us with open hands, he hugged us:
— Great!
First two fighters I shot down at Ukranian front, so when I returned to Pribaltiiskii front after hospital, they were not listed in my log book…
Kozhedub and other Heroes had shot down so many enemy planes… Kozhedub scored 63 kills. But what if he would fly escort missions like we did; He wouldn’t have shot down so many planes.

— What was most pleasant work for you, and what you did not like?

Most pleasant — free hunt… There was a case when we flew with Viktor. It was getting a bit dark, just before night. Towards Eastern Prussia there was a German airfield, we flew with Viktor to the side from it, when I noticed it. We flew far to the West, almost to the shore, to Pillau. We turned back, when I noticed that Viktor disappeared:
— Viktor, where are you?
He’s absent! I made a turn… Absent! Then I heard:
— I’m at the airfield, going to land.
Something must have happened to the engine… I said:
— Fine then, I’ll go and strafe…
So I turned towards that airfield. I shot at the parked airplanes, and went home… I returned home, when AAA guarding our field opened fire at me, I gained altitude, hoping that our gunners won’t kill me. I heard commander shouting:
— What are you, parasites, doing, that’s our plane.
They didn’t let me land on my airfield. Another division, that flew Yaks, was based nearby. I flew there. They allowed me to land — showed me the lights, and I landed. From my airbase a message came:
— If Nasilevec landed at your base, keep him till tomorrow; don’t let him fly at night.
On the next day I showed my hosts how La-5 can fly inverted, a thing that Yak was unable to perform. La-5 was equipped with completely different carburetor.

— Which one was more difficult to shoot down: «Messerschmitt» or «Focke-Wulf»?

How to say… Did you fight in your childhood? Did you? How you chose your opponent?

— That is not what I’m asking for. Let’s say: at which plane you used up more rounds? Which plane could take more damage?

Point is not in taking damage, as you put it. I’d say that everything is in pilots. If you shoot well — good at stick and gun sight, both planes don’t need a lot to be brought down. But enemy were good pilots too… Each plane had its strong and weak points. Me was more agile, FW had heavier armament. But it all depended on who’s flying it.

— Could you say which missions you did not like?

There were no such missions…

— What about sturmovik escort? You have to run around them like a dog on the leash.

That’s not exactly like this. We brought sturmoviks, and if enemy comes in with a task of not allowing attack, we have to meet him. Head on… I will not turn away — I have to defend sturmoviks. My commander connects with sturmoviks, they reply:
— Small ones, start fighting, we will protect ourselves.
They can protect themselves. They formed defense circle, one after another — they had good guns in the front, and they had a gunner with large caliber machine gun in the rear. They had to be protected from attacks from above and below. That’s why they flew as low as possible while bombing and strafing.
Then sturmoviks send a report that at this day, this time and place there was a fight in which such pilots participated, with a full description and results… Some where I have such report… And I have a letter from medical battalion, thanks to which I was not sent to the filtration camp.

— Explain please.

No one knew that I fought behind enemy lines, burnt, but was still alive. And that I spent many months in hospital — too.
Ivan Degtyar was shot down behind enemy lines. On the second day he came back, but was in filtration camp for three and a half month. He told us, that he was interrogated day and night.
Just imagine, how many people returned from POW camps after the war… There were cases when commanders were not traitors, but were in a situation, when they had no other choice? No weapons or ammo. Anything could happen…

[bobbysocks]

part 2 tomorrow

[Soviet Ace]

Funniest quote from the whole thing.

"— It is also known that if LAs throttle was given full throttle on landing, it had a tendency to roll?

You have to know your airplane. What kind of pilot are you, if you cannot predict your airplanes reaction…"

LMFAO

[bobbysocks]

part 2

— But there were soldiers from Vlasov army. And they should have been identified.

Of course, they had to be identified and punished. There were a lot of them.
I was signed off, and everyone forgot about me, so I had to prove everything. Commander presented me with Combat Red Banner order.
This is what I got recently. Read it.

— From central administration of personnel of Ministry of Defense from chief of 3rd directorate A.Ilyin.
«As a result of studying documents in TsAMO RF, it is established, that for excellent accomplishing of combat missions in August-September 1944, courage and dignity shown in its course, by an order of 1st Air army commander No 03\n issued on 20.01.1945 you were awarded by order of Red Banner. In a presentation list there is written following: 06.09.44 pair of La-5s was on a mission to escort Il-2s in Aidera area, where they were to strafe enemy troops and equipment. In the target area had a dogfight with FW-190. In a head-on attack against two FW-190 had downed enemy leader, whose wingman set airplane of comrade Nasilevec on fire. When comrade Nasilevec had extinguished flames from his plane, it was attacked second time by a pair of FW-190 from behind, that set him on fire again. His burning plane comrade Nasilevec had guided at enemy FW-190 and rammed it, which fell in the area of Aidera. Comrade Nasilevec bailed out, suffering from burns on face, body and hands».

You see, what’s written there?

- «…Thus, all combat achievements, that you described in your letter, were marked and award was issued by USSR government, and there is no possibility to issue awards twice for one act».

That’s it. They fooled me. What do you mean how? For air ram in a burning plane I received nothing.

— It is written here: «Order of Combat Red Banner».

It was written tin the list later. I will explain. I was downed on 06.09.44. Award was issued 20.01.45. That’s almost five month away.
All this time I spent in hospital, where I was brought like a «roasted naked piglet». Professor gave me a vacation for 45 days. I asked him:
— If you give me a vacation time, please, send me to my unit.
He replied:
— I cannot send a cripple to the unit. You have to undergo one more operation. And I give you a vacation so that you would rest a bit.
I thought of a reason and said to him:
— Professor, my parents are in Ukraine. It is liberated, but there is an order, that officers going there for a vacation or temporary duty have to be armed with personal weapons. Otherwise I can’t go there.
I talked him into giving me a direction to my unit. There they did not know that I was still alive. Sturmovik pilots reported that there was a dogfight just like in the letter you wrote. I was written off as KIA. When I returned, regiment commander reported to 1st Air Army commander. The fight took place on 3rd Pribaltiiskii front, in 14th Air Army. When regiment commander took me to Hryukin, commander of 1st air army, we entered reception room, colonel was invited first ad he kicked him so much, that regiment commander came out all wet of sweat, and just weaved his hand — go in. I entered, introduced myself, Hryukin showed me award list and said:
— Your commander presented an award list for Order of Patriotic War. It is a small award for your work. What I can do — I crossed Patriotic War out, and wrote «Order of Red Banner» — this is all I can…

— Your attitude towards technicians?

I liked technicians a lot, because our life depended on their work.


— We talked to a Hero of the Soviet Union and he said:
— There is a statue of me erected at my homeland, but I want to see a monument for my technician by its side.

Fully agree.

— How interaction with bombers and fighters was organized? Were you warned that you were about to fly mission? Or you based at the same airfield?

We were based at different airfields. Shturmoviks can fly on their own. If shturmoviks need a cover, they ask for it from commander of 161 IAP. We were given a task with a route…

— Who set altitude of your flight?

We set it ourselves. Where we thought it would be more comfortable to meet the enemy, above or below. Above we have supremacy in altitude and speed.

— What was your attitude towards political workers?

How to say… We had a small Smirnov. There also was big Smirnov, fat, huge man. He moved from our regiment to some other, he should be living in Gatchina now… We had small Smirnov. And there was a pilot Antonyanz, aggressive fighter, so he chased this regiment political officer, small Smirnov around his plane. This political officer received Orders for asking pilots, who just returned from fight:
— How many airplanes you shot down?
He had to take notes and send them higher. This Antonyanz said:
— You bastard! Do you know what it’s like to shoot enemy plane down? Have you seen a dogfight at least from the ground? You didn’t even see it, but ask us! I’ll load you, parasite, in the cockpit tomorrow and take with me to the mission. I’ll see what you will be asking us then.
He jumped out of the cockpit and chased him round the plane.
— I’m going, — he shouted, — to kill you.
Political officer was sent away somewhere after this incident. Imagine, regiment commander burned alive in the plane, he had only one Order of Patriotic War for all war! Meanwhile political officer had five. There is how they worked, politicians.

— That is, your attitude towards them is negative?

That parasite, who… Hey, are you taking notes? Or those, how they were called — KGB?

— SMERSh.

If not one of them… For act like mine people are awarded posthumously. What if I perished? Good commander tries to show people act of heroism, issues awards. But this one: “What if he betrayed us, and we will award him. You, regiment commander, will be responsible for this”. And they refused to award me just in case…

— Were there cases of cowardice? Refusal to fly or fight?

No, there were no cases when someone would refuse to fight. There were no cases if somebody left a dogfight without a reason. But there were other cases, like some would break a plane. Or a thunderstorm would come, but we have an order for escort mission. How can we cover in a thunderstorm? It was forbidden to fly in thunder. We had a group leader at Ukraine that took his group and lead right through the cloud. He returned with a deformed fuselage, while others had perished. (In the area of Yaumatgale on 22.7.1944 Lieutenant, flight commander Anatolii Zelenov “crashed, after entering thunder clouds”)

— This isn’t cowardice…

It’s not cowardice, but what for he went there?…

— During war it is often needed to fly breaking the instructions. How often did you break flight instructions?

Listen, by instruction human body cannot withstand over 12 G loads.
In a fight you sometimes had to withstand more. Like when I followed the enemy in a dive I had to pull out with huge overload, but there was no other way to escape…

— Did you fly patrol missions?

A few times.

— I was told by a veteran that they were given precise time to patrol over frontline, so they had to fly at economic speeds, so that fuel won’t be expended too soon.

He is a fairy taller and coward. This is my answer.

— Why so? Explain, please.

Because pilot shouldn’t be telling such crap. Fuel expenditure rate was never specified for fighter pilots.

— There was an order of Stalin, to fly slower (Order No 142 was issued in 1942. Full text can be read in Russian at the following link http://bdsa.ru/index.php?option=com_...=375&Itemid=30) …

There was none. There was nothing like this… There was an order of Stalin concerning ramming, I know about it. But if I came to the front line, if I am in a fight, I can use as much fuel, as needed.

— That’s if a fight begun, but while patrolling…

I patrol at a speed that I will be sure I won’t be caught off guard. What kind of cover I will be then?
No, there never was something like this. Maybe I flew a little, not for four years, but there was nothing like this.

— How many missions you flew?

Just over 40 missions.

— For forty missions six planes downed…

Six downed, air ram…

— Did you shoot at ground targets?

Yes, two times. I singlehandedly strafed airfield… With guns. We did not have bombs.

— For what reason your regiment did not receive Guards?

I don’t know, it was Red Bannered, Suvorov regiment. (161st, Riga, Order of Suvorov Fighter Air Regiment) We were in reserve, and were thrown everywhere. I don’t know why we did not receive Guards.

— How many HSUs were in your regiment?

I don’t know them. Timur Frunze received an HSU for just a few flights. I don’t know how many planes he shot down.
Here an extract from official regiment history: «During GPW regiment flew 5943 combat missions, pilots participated in 710 dogfights, shot down 246 planes, destroyed trucks with supplies and troops - 594, killed 1386 enemy soldiers and officers».

— How a kill was confirmed?

Until it was confirmed, it was not credited. Confirmation could come from special intelligence or from ground troops…

— Pilots from your group could confirm a kill?

From our flight? No. Sturmovik pilots could.

— Sturmoviks confirmed your ram?

All in the documents. And it was written in the award presentation list…

— Did you have a tradition to draw stars for kills? Or, perhaps, some inscriptions or drawings?

I had an inscription on the left side of the fuselage: «For combat friend and comrade Viktor Fedoseev».
Fedoseev was killed during liberation of Ostrov. (Jr. Lieutenant Viktor Fedoseev was killed in action 23.8.1944) We flew in a pair; behind us was a pair, and a flight in front. I didn’t even see it coming, Fokker dove past me out of the sun, sent a burst into Viktors plane, I tried to follow German in a dive, but it got away – speed difference was too great. Viktor burned alive in his plane…

— With whom you were in your last fight?

With Vladimir Suharev.

— Did he survive?

No, he perished… (Lieutenant Vladimir Suharev was killed in a dogfight near Tartu on 06.09.1944)
It was reported to the regiment, that his plane went in a steep dive and hit an opposite river bank.

— How many pilots, with whom you came to the regiment made it to the end of war?

Alexandr Matashov, here is the photo. Vladimir Morozov, Denezhkin… A lot of those pilots were killed, who were in the regiment before my appearance there…
Home village of our pilot Lieutenant Mogiley — Pyatihatki, behind Dnepropetrovsk was not liberated yet. He flew to the village to show his relatives that he was alive and coming; Germans noticed his flight, found and exterminated all his relatives… Mogiley was killed in 1943 at 3rd Ukrainian Front I was in the regiment, when it happened…
(Quite possibly, he speaks of Lieutenant Grigorii Mogiley, from reconnaissance squadron 113 GvIAP, 10 IAK. Was born in Pyatihatka. Did not return from combat mission 23.9.1944. Possibly, was shot down while in ranks of 161 IAP in 1943, was wounded, and after recovering was sent to 113 GvIAP for further service)

— On average how many flights young pilot lived?

How to say… If one made it through 5-6 fights, it meant that his chances were very high.

— Was there a “national question” in your regiment?

I’m Ukrainian, there were Russians…
I believe there were more Ukrainians. Ivan Staroryko was Ukrainian, Mogiley was Ukrainian. There were a lot of Ukrainians. There were no Byelorussians. Armenians were present… Very good fighters. Antonyanz was a good guy, tall man, we were friends. Very good guy… (Lieutenant Georgii Antonyanz, born in 1922 in Irkutsk. Killed in a dogfight on 17.8.1944) He was shot down over Pskovskoye Lake.
There were two Jews: Polevich — he was shot up in a first dogfight, he didn’t make it to the airfield and made an emergency landing. After that he became frightened and started complaining about headaches and so on. He was transferred to stab, where he somehow earned an Order of Red Banner. Second one, Makarevich was transferred to another regiment in Seim.

— Here are two pilots near Lavochkin, Who are they?

I believe they are both dead by now. Colonel Alexandr Matashov was a flight technique inspector in Leningrad. Second one — Vladimir Morozov. He was sent to Japanese war and perished there. They were my friends.

— Were you bombed at the front?

Not at the front. When our flight school was rebasing, we crossed Volga and were bombed near salt lake in Solemolki.
There was a big hospital in a former school building, full of wounded, and bombs hit it. After bombing finished we went there to look what happened, and noticed blood figures on the walls. Doctor explained that a nurse was running through a corridor when bomb blew up, and she was thrown at the wall. All wounded and most of the personnel were killed in that hospital…

— What was your personal opinion about Stalin and Communist party?

We were all in Komsomol then. We were raised by Party and Komsomol - communists. We were not talking about Stalin, we discussed how to get to the front and defend our Motherland.

— You said that German tried to kill you while you descended in a parachute. Have you heard about such cases from our side?

Can’t recall, really.
He was my enemy, I fought him, and maybe just moments ago I killed his wingman, so he was trying to kill me. On the other hand, I was descending at German held territory, so there was no reason in shooting at me.

— I’m asking if our pilots strafed parachutists. Rudel in his book wrote that it was a standard practice.

I don’t know. I don’t know of a single case.

— What was a strong and what was weak side of our pilots? And of Germans?

Listen, — our pilots had lots of courage, bravery, intention to win at all costs. Germans never rammed a single our airplane.

— In which aspect German pilot was better than our pilots? And which deficiencies they had?

There were aces that were shot down by our beginner pilots. Dogfight is a dogfight. Whatever ace he was. At flying technique we were roughly equal. But I will say once again — they lacked courage of our pilots.

— What about airplanes? Were we equal, or La-5 was worse than FW-190?

It’s not that airplane was worse. At first we were a bit too careful about it. A lot was said about Focke-Wulf. It’s like boxers in the ring. So much is said about one of them, that his opponents really think that he is so great, while in reality... Time passes and everything gets in its place... Messerschmitt was a good plane, maneuverable, good in handling. But I wouldn’t trade my La-5 for any other plane… I could fly it so hard, that no one could get me.

— Let’s return to a fight when you rammed. You bailed out, or fell with your plane?

It is written here that I bailed out. Did author of this reply know that cockpit was full of fragments? That I had no possibility to open cockpit, and leave it with parachute, so I was sentenced to death… They write that I bailed out. Hero was given for air rams when author stayed alive, and brought plane to the ground. What I did was a death wish.
I know of no other case, when air ram was made on a burning plane. Those parasites hid this case from the people. But I have no health to keep fighting them. At the age of 25 I was a wreck. No one recognized me, when I returned to the regiment; I had a mouth that I could hold only a cigarette…
13 days I was in the marsh, without food or treatment, it’s a miracle that I stayed alive. Motherland must have thanked me for what I did…

— Let’s return to the beginning…

Let me tell you how it happened. How I hate these democrats! He wrote an answer to me without looking inside of the problem…
I rammed on 3rd Pribaltiiskii, but was awarded from commander of 1st. Almost half a year later. I returned to service only on 5 May. For 8 month professor treated and cared for me, I was like a torn soldiers boot. Doctors wanted cut my legs away, but I didn’t let them. And my legs still with me. I was blind, and have a document to prove that. I worked until 60 and now I almost completely blind again… I can see just a bit out of this eye. When I wrote a letter to Putin, he was a president then, and asked to provide me with a cheapest car, which I can’t buy on my own, so that my daughter could take me somewhere away from my room, because I cannot walk the streets anymore, he forwarded my letter to governor of Leningrad Oblast Serdyukov. He, in turn forwarded my letter to local social service burocrat Markina. Do you know what she found in me to refuse in my wish? Elderness! I wrote here a letter: «If you were where I became old in 25, you wouldn’t write me things like this».
There was a chief of electrical service, and when he was a child he tried to disarm something and lost two fingers… He received a car among the first…
I went to Ukraine, there was a man working in official structures, who knew me. He asked me:
— How are you, Sergei Isaakovich?
I told him everything. He wrote to the government, you read the answer…

— We met things like this…

Well, I’ll start from the beginning.
We were sitting by our planes smoking, when a flare was fired. We took off, met a six plane Il-2 formation. Our task was to escort six Il-2s to strafe enemy troops and equipment at Egueima river crossing.
Shturmoviks flew at an altitude of 800-1200 meters, not higher. We were escorting them a bit above. Just as we crossed frontline, it was 20 kilometers behind Tartu… I heard:
— Small ones take a fight…
I began attack run, Vladimir said:
— I’ll cover you.
I replied:
— I’m aiming at closest leader.
I took aim. I thought, this bastard is going to get it. He was holding to the last moment — he thought that “Russian will turn away”. No, bastard, «turn away» my ass! I saw how he banked and put full load at his belly. He immediately caught bright fire and went down, I followed. Vladimir shouted:
— Stop! Get out of the fight.
As I was pulling out, I was hit from below left behind… airplane caught fire. I pressed a pedal — flame reduced, then extinguished. Just as I stopped skidding I got a second hit from below. Those were two hunters… If you saw enemy in a fight, it was not a problem to defeat him. Worst of all was when you couldn’t see them coming. Those two hunters approached from below. How did they make it, Shturmoviks were there? We had a bit of extra altitude, so he attacked me from below, when I tried to get away from a fight. I flew away, made a half roll, and noticed enemy planes. Vladimir was attacking one of them, while another chased him from behind — about to open fire. I pushed throttle forward, airplane responded well, well, thanks God! I had to pay enemy for everything! And I went… then we collided

— That is, you hit from front below?

Yes. It was the only way. I was coming from below, and he did not see me. German was in a climb, trying to get to Vladimir’s tail.
When I hit him, my plane made a roll over remains of the left wing above his fuselage and fell apart. I still remember this far… Past this moment I lost conscience.
Shturmoviks reported on the ground that both planes fell to pieces. I came to my senses, but saw nothing. I was spinning and something strangled me. Belts were connected here by a special lock. I pulled it and belts unfastened. I pulled the parachute string. Parachute opened, right boot fell down, helm was compressing my scull, and I tried to take it off…

— If you are tired, maybe we should come some other day?

Give me a moment, I’ll catch my breath. I have poor health now. I became old. Where we stopped?

— You are descending on a parachute.

My face was burnt, but goggles saved my eyes. I noticed that flight suit was still on fire. Wherever I touched, my body ached… then a stream of tracers flew past me. Those were Germans trying to execute me in the air. There were ten of them. I downed two of them, and Vladimir was attacking… but at least seven remained… shells flew past me, but he returned for another run. He strafed me three times, while I was hanging there, and managed to snap a few cords… But most frightening was that I was going to land right at Tartu-Tallinn road. It was just strafed, trucks were burning… Folwark was to the left, marsh — to the right. And a crowd of Germans near folwark.
I was descending closer to marsh and river, on the opposite side from the road. Germans were looking like fascist was trying to shoot me.
When I landed, I took off parachute. When I lifted my head, Germans opened fire from machine guns and assault rifles… Bastards! I jumped into the river. Got over it, hid in the bushes, took my helm away, left boot, which was still on, got pistol out. Checked it, made sure that pockets with ammo were still with me.
I decided not to give up. Better to finish myself off. There was a trench full of water, and a field with cut grass, and a hay pile. I got into this trench, to be sure that they won’t find me in the bushes. Dogs were barking… I got into the water up to the neck.
I held pistol in one hand, other one was completely burnt. I decided to stand there. Germans opened fire with machine pistols, grass was falling around me, but they did not hit me… A night passed, I heard some fire at a large distance. Then there was silence. By this time I began understanding that I was about to die. At first it was even comfortable – cold water eased pain in my burns… But my legs were not working by now. I froze. There was no ice around me, but when extended my hand I reached a place where it was forming. I thought to myself: «Well, Sergey, this is where you are going to die – in a swamp…».
Morning came. Airplanes were flying over me, but without any fighting. In the morning they once again strafed this swamp. At the evening of the second day I carefully listened around, and tried to get out of the water. Legs were not working completely, with a lot of difficulties, pulling on a grass; I made it to the swamp shore. When I sat down, I was exhausted. That was it. Then I noticed a pile of hay on the other side of the trench, and a bit further another one. No one around... Absolute silence... Then I thought, if I was going to die, then I will die doing something. Once again I crawled into that trench. With great difficulty I crossed it, when a hare scared me to death, I decided that it was a German, and hardly contained myself not to shoot. I whispered:
— Oh, my God…
After lying in a trench a bit I reached hay pile and got inside. I have no idea, how long it took me… Legs and hands were completely worthless. Somehow I made it inside, camouflaged entrance hole as good as I could, and fell asleep. No idea how long I slept. I dreamed of sitting in a restaurant, eating some delicatessen… Perhaps, my body demanded food this way. I dug out a hole in the ground near me, took out first aid kit. It was in oilcloth coating. I tore it, took out bandages, and used it to get some water, I could only suck it, because my mouth was scarring with only a small hole remaining… I laid there sleeping, woke up, sucked some water and doze off again. I felt that the end was coming. If I won’t get out, I’ll die. I heard our airplanes flying over, but I heard no AAA fire. Thus, it came to me that front must have moved West wards… I got out of the hay and sat by its side. My legs couldn’t bed, so I just sat there, but I hid a pistol behind my back. I was hoping that some locals would come by. If there are hay piles, there should be civilians. Then, a dry branch cracked, my hart began racing. What if those who were coming would press a trigger…? I couldn’t’t see who it was. He came close to me and asked:
— Who are you, tank crew member?
I replied as I could:
— No, I’m pilot.
— How did you get here?
I answered:
— My plane was shot down, I burned.
— O-o-o-o… Brother, how did you managed to survive here?
I said:
— You see how I lived here.
— What should we do with you? You can’t even speak well? Oh, we are even scared to look at you.
I replied:
— I can’t open my mouth. And I look like I my condition allow me. Take me to the road. There should be a road nearby.
— We can’t. We are side patrol, our unit is moving to the front.
I asked:
— Is front close by?
— It’s far away, 20-30 kilometers towards Tallinn.
— Oh, and I’m lying here all this time…
Two men picked me up, and then one said:
— Let me hold him alone, there is nothing left of him, only bones.
When they lifted me they saw a pistol in my hand:
— What is this, you were trying to defend yourself?
— Of course.
They brought me to the road and placed at the road side and said:
— When trucks will pass, independent where they will be going, to the front or to the rear, raise your hand, and they will take you.
They left, and maybe ten minutes later I heard engine sound, I raised hand, and truck stopped. Driver shouted:
— Well, get in.
How could I get in, when I was about to go to the other side... I weaved my hand. He got out, walked towards me.
— Are you tank crew member?
Damned, I was getting tired of this:
— No, I’m a pilot.
— Where can I take you, I have to take ammunition to the front?
I said:
— I don’t care anymore, just take me somewhere away.
— Damn, I will take you to the field hospital at the frontline.
He positioned me in a truck, closed the door and we took off. I asked:
— What’s the date today?
— Nineteenth. Why do you ask?
— I was shot down on 6th…
I lost conscience, and came to my senses when he was calling medics. They dragged me out of the cabin and took to the hospital.

— How long was your travel from hospital to Moscow?

Oh, I don’t know. Not too long, as I was brought there by plane.
Then a letter from a nurse of that hospital came, I keep it with me all my life, as it saved me from filtration…
When I was in Moscow, twice people from SMERSh came to check me. First time professor didn’t let them in, because I was blind then. On the second visit I gave them this letter. They checked all facts in it and returned it…
For eight month professor Vishnevskii treated me in Central Aviation Hospital (Professor, Academic Alexandr Vishnevskii, 1874-1948. Famous Russian surgeon, inventor, founder of Moscow Surgery Institute. Central Aviation Hospital was founded on 7 May 1942 with a sole purpose of treating wounded aircrews. Was located in Sokolniki area of Moscow. After the war it took part in examining possibility of manned space flights. Currently still exists as a part of medical wing of MO RF).

— When you returned to your regiment your belongings…

Were already taken by the other pilots. I came – nothing was left.
— We thought you were dead. — They said.
When I arrived, they firstly dragged me to the canteen. From control post it was announced that such pilot came back. A whole truck of people came to the Control post to meet me. They brought me to the canteen, where the same girls worked who knew me before:
— Sergey, you are alive!
«Bla-bla-bla…» As I sat in the canteen and ate, whole regiment came there:
— We are going to celebrate in the evening…

— By the way, when you received 100 grams?

At the evening at front only. When there were flights. If we were on the ground, then we were looking for it ourselves.

— Did you receive extra 100 grams for shooting own enemy planes?

Can’t remember about extra 100 grams, but we were paid for shooting enemy planes down. Bomber cost 2 000 rubles, fighter — 1 000. «Rama» was accounted as bomber. We also were paid for number of accomplished missions…
When I demobilized, I had about 25 000 rubles.

— How you found out about war end?

How I found out… I came on 5th May, and even managed to accomplish two flights on 9 may.
Regiment commander asked:
— Well, do you remember how to fly?
— No way.
— Well, let’s try.
He sent a technician.
— Prepare an airplane for him.
I took parachute, tested it at full throttle.
— Try to taxi.
I taxied, and then took off. Flew over Konigsberg, looked at it, and landed.
Two times I flew with my friends. Germans kept fighting there until 15 May. There was so much equipment there…
We later went there by foot. We also walked to Konigsberg, looked at the fortifications. Everything was in concrete, well prepared.

But still, when you were told that war ended?

On 9 May it was announced over radio. But we had to kill those who did not want to surrender…

— In Eastern Prussia there were a lot of Vlasov army soldiers. Were you informed about them?

I was afraid of those parasites. There were cases when pilots disappeared…

— War ended for you on 15 May, what happened next?

Then we were sent to Novgorod, airfield Krichevitsy. When we came there, everything was destroyed, only walls remained, so we had to rebuild all village first…
In April 1946 I demobilized.

— You never flew again?

I was invited to fly U-2 in a detached light transportation and connection squadron, but I couldn’t fly it due to open cockpit, since my face was burnt… So I decided to quit.

— May be a stupid question. If you had a chance to repeat everything, what you would have changed?

Nothing. I would live it all again with pleasure… Even if when I studied I dreamed of a piece of bread with a half kilo of jam on top… It was hard to live, but interesting. We helped each other…
I gave an oath to defend Motherland, and was ready to give my life away if needed... I stayed alive miraculously. My time passed, but I don’t regret about a single minute…

[Nomad_of_war]

That was an amazing read Bobby, thanks for posting that!