Daughters of the Night Sky(49)

My dear comrades,

I have been following your progress in the ladies’ journals for many months now and wish to offer you my profound thanks for your service to the motherland. You have shown the women of this great country that we are equal to taking up the mantle of equality that Comrade Stalin has granted to our female citizens. Do not listen to the jibes of the forces that have brought evil to our doorstep. You are not witches, casting hexes down upon innocent men. You are heavenly creatures. Daughters of the night sky who are bringing justice to your people and keeping Mother Russia safe for all her children. I would give anything to serve alongside you, but alas, my age dictates I must find a way to do my part closer to home, but please know that my blessings are with you.

Sincerely,

~Your faithful countrywoman

As if to highlight her words, the sirens sounded overhead.

Polina, having excused herself from most of the festivities, was the only one in the regiment who had seen the impending invasion. She burst into the hall, face flushed and panting.

“The Germans are maneuvering. If we don’t act fast, they’ll take out the aerodrome.”




The idea of losing our planes sent us all into motion. We raced to throw on our padded flight suits and heavy boots. I was plodding and clumsy, lacing my boots, slowed by so much food and wine. I gritted my teeth and forced my fingers to cooperate. Are you a soldier, or a fat housewife enjoying a Christmas feast?

I continued cursing myself as we waded through the muddy field to the aerodrome. No one moved with more grace than I, and I felt compelled to turn back. If I were so clumsy on the ground, I shuddered to think of the mistakes we could make in the air.

“Taisiya, are you all right to fly?” I asked as we hoisted our muddy feet into the cockpit.

“I have to be,” she said matter-of-factly.

I nodded. She wasn’t one to overindulge in her drink, regardless of the occasion, and I’d had less than most, having taken up my violin while many others kept drinking.

Renata and Polina, along with their teams of mechanics and armorers, had us ready to fly in five minutes. Others still staggered to their planes, giggling as they fell into their cockpits. I didn’t blame them for folly; I was just disappointed they couldn’t enjoy one well-earned evening of pleasure. Even in the midst of war, we deserved that. I looked at the glassy-eyed pilots and their flushed mechanics. It would be a miracle if our little feast didn’t cost lives.

We were the first to take off, though we saw others following close behind. It was difficult to tell, but they seemed to be flying true. I hoped their hands would remain steady. We were perhaps ten minutes from our target, a German airfield that had been positioned far too close to our front line for comfort, when the clouds came rolling in.

“Go lower!” I called to Taisiya through the interphone. “We won’t be able to see a thing.”

“I’m already flying at five hundred meters. If I go any lower, I won’t be able to drop the bombs.”

“Then let’s retreat,” I said. There were no longer planes behind me, the others noticing the clouds had pushed us below safe limits. There was no shame in turning back on a mission when it would put the crew and plane in unnecessary danger. We hadn’t enough of either to treat the loss casually.

Taisiya had begun to speak over the interphone, likely to acknowledge that we’d do better to head back to the camp, when a German spotlight plucked us out of the sky.

“Fuck,” she muttered. She attempted an evasive maneuver, banking right and swerving lower, but the spotlight operator never lost sight of her. She dove to four hundred and fifty meters—lower, even—and we were meters away from our target.

“We’re too low!” I bellowed, unnecessarily loud, given the interphone.

“Mark it anyway!” she called back, matching my volume.

I could see a munitions tent in good range, and given what I could see—not very much—it was the best target we could hope to hit.

“Three . . . two . . . one . . . mark! ” The cold metal of the flare felt caustic, like acid, against my warm skin as I removed the cap and tossed it over the side of the plane to illuminate the target for Taisiya. I ripped the little white parachute from the flare, caring more about the speed of its descent than pinpoint accuracy.

Taisiya dropped the bomb over the munitions tent, hitting her mark without a centimeter of error. I swallowed my congratulations for the excellent run when the plane bounced upward with the force of the blast. We’d never bombed from such a low elevation, and it seemed like the regulations were in place for a good reason.

“I think we’re going to be fine,” Taisiya said, anticipating my question. “We’re climbing fine, and she seems to be responding as well as she ever does.”

“Let’s get back as fast as she’ll haul us, then,” I said, wondering what damage might have been done that we couldn’t tell from our rudimentary equipment.

Taisiya gave me a wave. “Have some grenades at the ready in case we get company.”

She needn’t have reminded me. Retreat was often the most dangerous part of the mission. Most times we arrived unnoticed, and it wasn’t until we were on our way back to base that the Germans were in the air and able to return fire. The best they could do until then was shoot at us from the ground, which was plenty dangerous. They would only have a short window to chase us before they got close enough to Russian airspace that their mission would become suicide. The Germans weren’t ones for taking needless risks without benefit, and one of our little planes wasn’t worth losing one of theirs.