Chapter 29

John was growing frustrated with the Volga District Air Defence Co-ordinator. Reports of the enemy bombers were contradictory. He gave up trying to get the latest altitude. However, it was 'Oz's' keen eyesight that spotted the enemy first, a hazy black smudge, like a swarm of locusts.

"What's our plan, Red Leader?" he called.

John scanned the formation. They were in waves, a squadron at a time, in tight formations for defence. Above them were groups of escorting fighters, twin-engined Bf 110 'Zerstorers.' He looked for single-seaters but saw none. Apparently, Stalingrad was beyond their range at present.

"Y'think your boys can keep those 110s off our backs, 'Oz'?"

"Sure, Red Leader. We'll climb above them... c'mon, lads, let's go hunting."

The Hurricanes, probably the best gun platform of all the fighters present, broke away and climbed. The Hurricane, armed with eight Browning machine guns, was said to have the ability to 'hang, ' rock steady, in the air.

Both the LaGG-3 and the La-5 were armed with 20mm cannons. The Yak carried a 20mm 'Moteur Canon' firing through the propellor hub and two 12.7mm machine guns. Soviet fighters tended to have their armament grouped in the nose firing through the prop disk. Later in the war, mechanics got into the habit of hanging all manner of extra ordinance on the wings, such as rockets, bombs and gun pods. But, at this early stage, Russian fighters didn't carry the numbers of guns that their Western counterparts did. But with the cannon armament of the Russians, it made sense for them to attack the bombers and leave the '110's' to the Hurricanes.

The Messerschmitt Bf-110 was originally designed as a twin-engined escort fighter to provide German bomber formations with some long range protection. In the Battle of Britain they weren't particularly successful, being woefully outmaneuvred by British single-seaters. But the Bf-110 found other work, as fighter-bombers, and night-fighters. At this they found much more success. In Russia, they reverted to their original role until Russian fighter opposition stiffened and they encountered the same tactical problems that they had in the Battle of Britain.

The dozen or so Hurricanes plunging down onto the Bf-110s came as an unpleasant shock to the Luftwaffe pilots. Superficially, the Hurricane resembled the Yakovlev Yak-1 and perhaps the Germans initially mistook the British fighters for such.

Six or seven 110s turned towards the diving Hurricanes so they could use their powerful nose armament. 'Oz' and the squadron dived down in pairs and soon a whirling dogfight developed. The town of Kalach' could be seen as the fight began to spread out, getting lower all the time, as the Hurricanes hounded the big Messerschmitts.

John and the other three La-5s screamed in at the first formation of bombers. It was a staffel of Junkers Ju-88s still with their rough Winter whitewash. John's Lavochkins made their attack in line abreast, pouring 8 streams of cannonfire and 16 of heavy machinegun into the close formation. The effect was immediate as the bomber's formation broke up. John saw pieces breaking off aircraft, of smoke and vapour erupting from wings and motors. A Junkers exploded in a ball of flame sending debris flying in all directions. John dived through the bombers and levelled out below, turning to make another attack.

Not long after the squadron landed to refuel, they could here the crump of bombs being dropped on Stalingrad. Some dozen or so enemy bombers had been shot down to three fighters lost. John was relieved when Jana landed safely.

By the time the squadrons turned around, however, the enemy would be well out of range. Reluctantly, John had to keep the squadrons back. He called General Rokosossky's headquarters to make his report. He was greeted by calm reassurance. 'Everything is all right, ' he was told, 'the situation is well in hand.'

That night, the Luftwaffe raided Leninsk. There was no warning. John and Jana were shaken out of bed by the first bomb burst. Scrambling in their underwear, they found some shelter behind the windrow at the edge of the runway.

The ground shook, the airfield echoed with the flash and blast of the German bombs. It seemed as if nothing could possibly survive and all their aircraft would be destroyed.

Not far off something began to burn, they could smell the smoke and the flare from burning fuel light up the woods around them. Finally, an anti-aircraft gun banged from across the other side of the airfield. John lifted his head to see the phosphor shells whoosh up into the sky like a fireworks display. He doubted, though, that they'd be able to hit anything without searchlights. But if it made the gunners feel good then he couldn't see any harm in it.

Eventually the raid was over and all was quiet again, except for the lone anti-aircraft battery blasting away at nothing in particular. The airfield was lit up by the orange glare of fires. Some men ran past shouting and dragging a water tanker. Others ran about shouting as if they couldn't think of anything batter to do. Someone needed to restore order and that someone had to be the Lieutenant-Colonel of the Station.

John was relieved his quarters were undamaged. Jana and he retrieved their greatcoats to give them some dignity before tackling the situation. Together they strode purposely out on to the battered runway.

"Colonel, sir," a dishevelled aircraftman ran up to them, "the Marshal's aeroplane..."

"Let it burn," Jana told him, "what about the fighters?"

"Not sure," he stammered, "I think we may have lost three... some may have blast damage... fragments..."

"We'll check in the morning," John told him, "get those fires under control first. Is the fuel secure?"

"Yes, sir... and the ammo. It's stored 500 metres away in the..."

"Yes, I know it is. Where are the firemen?"

Just then a Samokhodnaya Ustanovka SU 76 self-propelled gun rumbled onto the runway loaded with soldiers. Parking right in the middle they spilled out. The gun's crew then began to ready the 76.2mm gun for firing. The anti-aircraft gunner was still blazing away into the sky. John patience ran out.

"Hey!" he shouted, "what the fuck do you think you're going to do with that? And can someone tell that fucking gun crew to shut the fuck up?"

"Sir," a sergeant said, "the army says there may be more enemy planes and..."

"I don't give a monkey's," he shouted, "I'm saying to cease fire and do something useful."

Gradually, by shouting and cajoling, John began to assert some authority. The soldiers John put to work as stretcher bearers. 'Oz' arrived, blackened with soot.

"We've lost one for sure," he told John, "some splinter damage but I think it could've been worse."

"We need to move, 'Oz, '" John told him, "we'll get more of those. The army can't protect us as well as Stalingrad."

"What's going on?" 'Oz' asked, "have you managed to get information?"

"Not much," he shrugged, "headquarters don't know anything, I'm sure. Jerry's knocked out communications."

"Why don't we take a look?"

"Does the Hurricane have the range?"

"Range for what?" Jana asked, eavesdropping.

"To take a peek across the Don," John replied.

"When do we go?"

"Now wait..." John started to say.

"Just," 'Oz' interrupted, "but there'll be no time for stooging around. What about your Russkie crates?"

"Umm," John drew himself back to the conversation. He knew he was beaten from the outset. Jana would be coming along on any enterprise they conjured up. "Umm, the La 5s and LaGGs have a similar range to the Hurricane. The MiG is a little longer but we couldn't hang around for long..."

"Yak 9s," interrupted Jana, "they're good for 1000 kilometres on full tanks!"

"Have we any undamaged?"

"Who knows? Won't know for sure until light."

"In any case, we need to fly anything that will get into the air to dispersal fields..."

"That's what Junior Officers are for," laughed 'Oz', "and maybe those army chaps can rustle up some transport?"

"Good idea," John agreed, "delegation and all that?"

"Exactly!"

When the sun broke fitfully over the horizon, smoke still drifted over the airfield. Most had slept little, and they gazed upon wrecked and burning buildings and aircraft.

John took a tour of the wounded and paid respects to the dead. It could have been worse, much worse, but for the fact that night bombing was still an inexact science. Most of the bombs had fallen in the nearby forests.

Many of the aircraft, however, had suffered some sort of damage from splinters. The Hurricane's aft fusilage, for instance, was a wooden frame covered with fabric and, although it was a sturdy aircraft, some were potmarked with holes.

"They'll still fly," 'Oz' said confidently. One advantage of fabric covering was that it could be patched relatively easily.

Two Yak 9s had survived undamaged and one Yak 1. The Yak 1 differed from the Yak 9 in that it had the cockpit canopy fared into the fusilage while the Yak 9's canopy was a 'bubble.' This gave the later model better vision aft. That model, too, had an uprated engine with more power at altitude. Otherwise both models shared the same 1000km range.

John opted for the older aircraft for their coming mission. He and Jana gave 'Oz' a quick lesson on how to fly the Yak, including a translation of the Russian characters signifying altitude, speed etc. Like all Russian aircraft of the period, the Yak was heavy on the controls. This was partly due to control ratios, a less sophisticated hydraulic system compared to Western aircraft, and because Russian pilots preferred it that way. The Yak was considered a good handling machine, precise and positive, but required a certain 'assertiveness' from the pilot.

"Bloody Hell!" 'Oz' radioed when they were in the air, "this kite takes a bit of getting used to!"

"It'll do whatever you ask it to," John told him, "just point the stick the way you want to go and it will follow, believe me!"

The Hurricane, by comparison, had a light feel. When a few found their way to Russia, Russian pilots hated them because they had a habit of wrenching the stick too violently when banking, only to find the Hurricane flicked into a barrel roll. Similarly, a gentle climb could end up in a stall. Such 'touchiness' required a whole new approach to flying.

They followed the line of the railway West until tired of being fired on by Russian troops. A Tank Brigade was on the move, a great, sprawling column of transport and armoured vehicles. The difficulty of moving quickly in this country was obvious. Most military movements took place along railway routes. Naturally, these routes were a magnet for enemy bombers and it was clear the marshalling yards at Kalach' had been heavily attacked.