22.03.2009, 05:40
05:00 19th August 1941, Vayenga Airfield
Yesterday we hear about the fighting at Ura Guba from official channels. The Germans need to secure it to advance on the north flank, intent on capturing the Murmansk railway.. The Russians seem somewhat hesistant to tell us everything, but it's clear this is a determined offensive we're facing.
Flying Officer Edmond Hesslyn is grinning like a cheshire cat. He's a competitive sort of bloke, but I see the same expression on many of the other lads in the squadron. It worries me. We've only just arrived and perhaps we caught the Luftwaffe off guard. We shouldn't become overconfident.
Dimitri woke us very early. I swear the man doesn't sleep. Today seems to be more cloudy than before in more ways than one. I suspect the Russians are worried about how the war is going. We hear rumours that German forces have advanced across Russia like a steamroller. At any rate, they want us to patrol the area.
The mechanics have patched up my Hurricane. I climb aboard, glancing at the dull grey mist with some resignation. The cirrus clouds above are a greyish pink colour, the horizon a splendid halo of red and yellow.
![[Image: 87e0ea58232a20bae0b5576bf71251366g.jpg]](http://www2.mediafire.com/imgbnc.php/87e0ea58232a20bae0b5576bf71251366g.jpg)
We patrolled for an hour. The Germans were elsewhere it seems, and no-one bothered us.
We had a visit from the Tour Guide (Raymond has got me saying that now) that afternoon. His name is Sergeyev, a former journalist, a pleasant fellow when you get to know him. He informs us that fighting at Ura Guba has intensified. I noticed a line of soviet transport planes lined along the north apron. Something's going to happen soon. I just know it.
Yesterday we hear about the fighting at Ura Guba from official channels. The Germans need to secure it to advance on the north flank, intent on capturing the Murmansk railway.. The Russians seem somewhat hesistant to tell us everything, but it's clear this is a determined offensive we're facing.
Flying Officer Edmond Hesslyn is grinning like a cheshire cat. He's a competitive sort of bloke, but I see the same expression on many of the other lads in the squadron. It worries me. We've only just arrived and perhaps we caught the Luftwaffe off guard. We shouldn't become overconfident.
Dimitri woke us very early. I swear the man doesn't sleep. Today seems to be more cloudy than before in more ways than one. I suspect the Russians are worried about how the war is going. We hear rumours that German forces have advanced across Russia like a steamroller. At any rate, they want us to patrol the area.
The mechanics have patched up my Hurricane. I climb aboard, glancing at the dull grey mist with some resignation. The cirrus clouds above are a greyish pink colour, the horizon a splendid halo of red and yellow.
We patrolled for an hour. The Germans were elsewhere it seems, and no-one bothered us.
We had a visit from the Tour Guide (Raymond has got me saying that now) that afternoon. His name is Sergeyev, a former journalist, a pleasant fellow when you get to know him. He informs us that fighting at Ura Guba has intensified. I noticed a line of soviet transport planes lined along the north apron. Something's going to happen soon. I just know it.