25.03.2009, 05:13
06:00 hrs 24th August 1941, Vayenga Airfield
The hut shook as the aeroplane flew past at very low altitude with a vibrant snarl and resonant rumble. Are we under attack? The realisation brought me to full awareness. I leapt out of bed and fumbled in the gloom for my flying kit. I heard the men shouting in the barrack hut. Half dressed and holding what kit I could find I left my room and saw the men huddled together by the windows, staring out. A shadow swept past us, followed shortly by another aircraft.
"They're Russians!" Cried Stephens.
"There's no need to bomb us, I said I was sorry." I muttered, but the joke was lost in the noise of twin engined bombers crossing the field at very low height.
Shortly after we were summoned to a briefing from the Russian base commander, Anton Kuklev, whose transport planes I'd seen a few days before. The bombers that had woken us were Pe-2's of the 65th ShAP transferred from Leningrad, flying to Kilpyavr for arming and refuelling. They were raiding the Timovka Bridge near Petsamo, inside German lines, and needed escort from us. The briefing seemed a little surreal. Kuklev didn't speak english, and Sergeyev's interpreting left something to be desired. The whole thing felt as if we were under Russian control. The Adjutant advised us that we should co-operate fully.
If anything, this morning was even murkier than ever. The Merlin engine on my Hurricane sensed the dampness, and it took an agonisingly long time to fire. We took off and once above the haze, it was a fine day with lumpy white cumulus stretching in all directions.
Every so often we heard the Russians talking over the radio, short messages, like instructions, spoken flatly in that incomprehensible language.
By now I knew the way to Kilpyavr. Once overhead, we spotted the bombers orbiting to gain altitude and drew alongside. One of their observers gave us a wave. I'm not sure, but I think the burst of Russian of the radio was a welcome message for us. I'll take it as such. We followed the bombers as they gently spiral climbed above cloud level.
![[Image: 2cc8905ab4c9a43484982e3e5e8501966g.jpg]](http://www1.mediafire.com/imgbnc.php/2cc8905ab4c9a43484982e3e5e8501966g.jpg)
Off at two o'clock low, flak bursts were appearing. That would be Kilpyavr. There! A dark spot revealed an aircraft passing the field and I left formation to have a look. A twin boom Focke-Wulf 189 recconaisance plane was heading west. I pulled in behind and gave it a burst. The right engine began a thin trail of oily smoke as the 189 began evading my attck. For a twin it's a livelier bird than I expect and he turns into cloud in an effort to lose me. He gets away.
Having rejoined the Pe-2's we head for Timovka. The Russians make a very determined attack, dive bombing the bridge, scoring hits with great upward gushes of water, and I see the bridge collapse on the west bank. They turn for home and we follow on, still at some height. We keep a wary eye out for the Luftwaffe, but it seems Fritz was concentrating on Kilpyavr again. A couple aircraft were destroyed in that attack.
After a while it's clear the Russians are home free, so out of curiosity more than anything else I head the flight toward Ura Guba where the fighting still continued. Immediately we attract anti-aircraft fire and I decide not to press home a strafing attack, especially since the mist pretty well obscured the targets anyway.
I might be mistaken, but I sense Kuklev's squadron is preparing to move? As always, the Russians are secretive. Even Dimitiri doesn't know what's going on.
The hut shook as the aeroplane flew past at very low altitude with a vibrant snarl and resonant rumble. Are we under attack? The realisation brought me to full awareness. I leapt out of bed and fumbled in the gloom for my flying kit. I heard the men shouting in the barrack hut. Half dressed and holding what kit I could find I left my room and saw the men huddled together by the windows, staring out. A shadow swept past us, followed shortly by another aircraft.
"They're Russians!" Cried Stephens.
"There's no need to bomb us, I said I was sorry." I muttered, but the joke was lost in the noise of twin engined bombers crossing the field at very low height.
Shortly after we were summoned to a briefing from the Russian base commander, Anton Kuklev, whose transport planes I'd seen a few days before. The bombers that had woken us were Pe-2's of the 65th ShAP transferred from Leningrad, flying to Kilpyavr for arming and refuelling. They were raiding the Timovka Bridge near Petsamo, inside German lines, and needed escort from us. The briefing seemed a little surreal. Kuklev didn't speak english, and Sergeyev's interpreting left something to be desired. The whole thing felt as if we were under Russian control. The Adjutant advised us that we should co-operate fully.
If anything, this morning was even murkier than ever. The Merlin engine on my Hurricane sensed the dampness, and it took an agonisingly long time to fire. We took off and once above the haze, it was a fine day with lumpy white cumulus stretching in all directions.
Every so often we heard the Russians talking over the radio, short messages, like instructions, spoken flatly in that incomprehensible language.
By now I knew the way to Kilpyavr. Once overhead, we spotted the bombers orbiting to gain altitude and drew alongside. One of their observers gave us a wave. I'm not sure, but I think the burst of Russian of the radio was a welcome message for us. I'll take it as such. We followed the bombers as they gently spiral climbed above cloud level.
Off at two o'clock low, flak bursts were appearing. That would be Kilpyavr. There! A dark spot revealed an aircraft passing the field and I left formation to have a look. A twin boom Focke-Wulf 189 recconaisance plane was heading west. I pulled in behind and gave it a burst. The right engine began a thin trail of oily smoke as the 189 began evading my attck. For a twin it's a livelier bird than I expect and he turns into cloud in an effort to lose me. He gets away.
Having rejoined the Pe-2's we head for Timovka. The Russians make a very determined attack, dive bombing the bridge, scoring hits with great upward gushes of water, and I see the bridge collapse on the west bank. They turn for home and we follow on, still at some height. We keep a wary eye out for the Luftwaffe, but it seems Fritz was concentrating on Kilpyavr again. A couple aircraft were destroyed in that attack.
After a while it's clear the Russians are home free, so out of curiosity more than anything else I head the flight toward Ura Guba where the fighting still continued. Immediately we attract anti-aircraft fire and I decide not to press home a strafing attack, especially since the mist pretty well obscured the targets anyway.
I might be mistaken, but I sense Kuklev's squadron is preparing to move? As always, the Russians are secretive. Even Dimitiri doesn't know what's going on.