22.03.2009, 05:42
16:00 20th August 1941, Vayenga Airfield
We almost slept in today. Dimitri didn't wake us and I suspect he felt sorry for wasting our time yesterday morning. The weather really has closed in with thick overcast cloud. At least it doesn't feel so cold today.
The Li-2 transports flew away this morning but we don't know where they went. We kept ourselves busy. Edmond Hesslyn organised a spot of football for the lads. Some of the Russians got interested but a couple of them got a little too wrapped up in the game and almost came to blows.
It wasn't until the late afternoon that the Russians called us in. Army units on the front line reported formations of enemy bombers heading east, and that meant we'd better darn well stop them. We run out to our aeroplanes and strap in. There's a sense of urgency as the mechanics get the engines going. I'm airborne as soon as possible, the Hurricane wallowing a little on the intial climb. The air is much clearer this afternoon and for once I can see the airfield as I climb out.
We head west above cloud, nothing but blue sky above us. I don't spend much time admiring the view. The Luftwaffe is out there and I don't want to get caught again. Below we pass over the lakes that mark the halfway point between here and Kilpyavr. There's nothing up here, so I call the radio for a heading. They suggested two four zero. Hang on... Down there, ten o'clock low, what's that? Bombers!
I call 'tally ho' and we wing over to the attack. Ju88's see us coming and break up, turning to avoid us. I pull in behind one and fire. He begins to smoke and dives away to the right. The radio traffic is frantic. Another '88 begins to burn. I look around but the bombers are gone apart from a smoke trail or two. Everyone seems to be congratulating each other and I tell them to pipe down. They reform as we head back home.
![[Image: ff905c86df1f22aab9092c42a0a3ca506g.jpg]](http://www4.mediafire.com/imgbnc.php/ff905c86df1f22aab9092c42a0a3ca506g.jpg)
Within ten minutes we hear the Germans are attacking our airfield. A two pronged attack? Time is precious and we open the throttles, making every second count. I can only see two other Hurricanes behind me. Over the radio F/O Hesslyn calls for help. He got seperated, now he's under pressure from German fighters.
We must be close to home now... There! Below us are two fighters, Bf109's, turning west as we arrive. I call for another attack, roll over, and pull through a half loop to level behind a Messerschmitt. He hasn't seen me, he can't have, he's flying straight and level without a care in the world. I open fire.. Again... Chunks are coming off him and he starts to burn. His 109 flies on. Why doesn't he bale out? Raymond, my wingman, congratulates me on the kill. The German doesn't do anything at all but fly on, then his fuel tanks go up and the shattered plane falls from the sky. The other Messerschmitt high-tails it back to Finland. We can't catch him. With some relief, Hesslyn rejoins our formation, older and wiser.
What a day! We all bagged a Ju88 each. Another Fw189 was downed by anti-aircraft fire not far from the field, and I scored one kill on a 109E7/Z. Good show everyone! The Russians think so too. Sergeyez slaps me on the back and tells me I'll get a medal for it. That Russian with the walking stick makes himself scarce with little grace. I'll ask Dimitri about him.
Things aren't all rosey though. The Red Air Force took a pasting at Kilpyavr, losing some I-16's on the ground. The Germans aren't giving up at Ura Guba either. Both sides are fighting for every inch of soil.
We almost slept in today. Dimitri didn't wake us and I suspect he felt sorry for wasting our time yesterday morning. The weather really has closed in with thick overcast cloud. At least it doesn't feel so cold today.
The Li-2 transports flew away this morning but we don't know where they went. We kept ourselves busy. Edmond Hesslyn organised a spot of football for the lads. Some of the Russians got interested but a couple of them got a little too wrapped up in the game and almost came to blows.
It wasn't until the late afternoon that the Russians called us in. Army units on the front line reported formations of enemy bombers heading east, and that meant we'd better darn well stop them. We run out to our aeroplanes and strap in. There's a sense of urgency as the mechanics get the engines going. I'm airborne as soon as possible, the Hurricane wallowing a little on the intial climb. The air is much clearer this afternoon and for once I can see the airfield as I climb out.
We head west above cloud, nothing but blue sky above us. I don't spend much time admiring the view. The Luftwaffe is out there and I don't want to get caught again. Below we pass over the lakes that mark the halfway point between here and Kilpyavr. There's nothing up here, so I call the radio for a heading. They suggested two four zero. Hang on... Down there, ten o'clock low, what's that? Bombers!
I call 'tally ho' and we wing over to the attack. Ju88's see us coming and break up, turning to avoid us. I pull in behind one and fire. He begins to smoke and dives away to the right. The radio traffic is frantic. Another '88 begins to burn. I look around but the bombers are gone apart from a smoke trail or two. Everyone seems to be congratulating each other and I tell them to pipe down. They reform as we head back home.
Within ten minutes we hear the Germans are attacking our airfield. A two pronged attack? Time is precious and we open the throttles, making every second count. I can only see two other Hurricanes behind me. Over the radio F/O Hesslyn calls for help. He got seperated, now he's under pressure from German fighters.
We must be close to home now... There! Below us are two fighters, Bf109's, turning west as we arrive. I call for another attack, roll over, and pull through a half loop to level behind a Messerschmitt. He hasn't seen me, he can't have, he's flying straight and level without a care in the world. I open fire.. Again... Chunks are coming off him and he starts to burn. His 109 flies on. Why doesn't he bale out? Raymond, my wingman, congratulates me on the kill. The German doesn't do anything at all but fly on, then his fuel tanks go up and the shattered plane falls from the sky. The other Messerschmitt high-tails it back to Finland. We can't catch him. With some relief, Hesslyn rejoins our formation, older and wiser.
What a day! We all bagged a Ju88 each. Another Fw189 was downed by anti-aircraft fire not far from the field, and I scored one kill on a 109E7/Z. Good show everyone! The Russians think so too. Sergeyez slaps me on the back and tells me I'll get a medal for it. That Russian with the walking stick makes himself scarce with little grace. I'll ask Dimitri about him.
Things aren't all rosey though. The Red Air Force took a pasting at Kilpyavr, losing some I-16's on the ground. The Germans aren't giving up at Ura Guba either. Both sides are fighting for every inch of soil.