Dear friends, welcome to the Eastern Front channel.
Today we will dive into the memories of the hero of the Soviet Union, Alexander Molodchy,
about a combat flight on February 20, 1942.
I think this story is interesting because in it the commander of the aircraft shares
how difficult and dangerous the work of a pilot was during the Second World War.
When every moment could be the last.
Night.
We are returning to our airfield.
The task was completed without much difficulty and risk: there were no enemy fighters in
the air, and we had already learned to deceive the anti-aircraft gunners, and for some reason
they fired weakly, not intensively ...
The crew was silent, lulled by the monotonous hum of the engines.
I was piloting a plane, and my thoughts were far, far from the fire, from the war ...
I feel like I am falling asleep.
This is the most unpleasant thing.
This dream is worse than the Messerschmitts!
There is no autopilot on the plane, and by its nature the IL-4 is unstable, every second
it strives to roll, go off course, lift or lower the nose of the plane.
It is necessary to constantly turn the steering wheel so that the plane flies in the right
course.
The pilot falls asleep during the flight in a different way from how he usually falls
asleep.
The hum of the motors, the monotonous movements of the steering wheel now to the right, now
to the left, towards oneself, away from oneself, lulls better than any lullaby.
And the pilot seems to be sitting with open eyes, but he does not see the navigation devices.
His consciousness is switched off for a moment.
The man is sleeping.
This dream lasts a second, maybe two, but then, instantly waking up, it seems to you:
slept for eternity!
And therefore, the hands unconsciously begin to turn the steering wheel, and not always
in the direction that is needed.
To get rid of this misfortune, from this unpleasant and dangerous torment - from sleepiness, we
took ammonia on the flight.
Today's flight is already in its fifth hour.
We are all tired ... And our vigilance, unfortunately, is not the same as during the first combat
flies.
And dulling vigilance is always costly.
In such situations, fascist fighters fired at our plane more than once.
Our plane was injured, but luckily we survived.
And some of my fellow soldiers did not lay down their heads not over the target, where
enemy anti-aircraft guns are spewing fire, where "Messers" are swarming, but in flight
already to their base, having lost their vigilance.
What a shame - after a victorious bombing to die for nothing.
Everyone knew this well, but it was not so easy to withstand the constant stress on long
flights.
This tension is higher than physical strength.
Almost every night, or day, we flew out on missions.
Exhausting work.
And so four years of war ...
Suddenly, Panfilov's voice was heard in the headphones of the headset:
- Fighter!
And at the same moment in several places our plane was pierced by bullets of a large-caliber
machine gun and shells of aircraft cannons.
- Everybody is alive?
- I asked the question after the raid.
- Yes sir!
- immediately heard three voices.
However, I felt: the plane seemed to stumble in the air against some obstacle.
“Something is damaged,” flashed through my head.
- Motor?
No, the motors seem to be intact.
Petrol Tank?
Yeah, the petrol tank is pierced!
"
And the fascist fighter is somewhere nearby.
It is necessary to forestall his repeated attack.
I'm sharply going straight to the right.
The bomber goes to glide.
The fighter is to our right.
I can clearly see the Messer through the viewing glasses.
- Wait for the attack!
- I order the crew.
- Watch carefully!
Now everyone can see the enemy fighter.
“The fascist has probably lost us,” says Vasiliev.
“He’s changing course, so he’s looking.”
The Messer is gradually approaching, but it is felt that the pilot still does not see
us.
After all, he goes with us on a parallel course.
And now, if the fascist even saw our bomber, he could not shoot: for this you need to lag
behind and start a new attack, and this is difficult at night - you can lose your target.
- I'm doing a maneuver, - I say to Panfilov.
- "Messer" will be at your disposal.
Be careful not to miss!
But the fascist pilot had already noticed us.
He also goes to the turn to find a comfortable position.
But it was too late: Sasha Panfilov, having accurately calculated the lead and the angle
of the target, struck a burst into the belly of the enemy plane.
The fighter falls down like a torch ...
“Below us is the territory occupied by the enemy,” says Kulikov.
- We ought to stretch out for about twenty minutes.
The front line is coming soon.
- If we do not light up, I will delay, - I answer.
“But the chances are weak.
We sit as if on a powder keg ...
The fiery strokes of the front line are left behind.
Checking fuel leftovers.
The main tanks are empty.
On the one hand, this is for the better: there is less likelihood of ignition of gasoline
flowing from the holes.
But in empty tanks, gasoline vapors are formed, and this is even worse: the slightest spark
and - an explosion!
In case of fire, the crew at least has the opportunity to leave the machine by parachute,
but in case of an explosion no chances.
I am transferring engines to reserve tanks.
It's still no more than fifteen minutes of flight.
You have to make a decision: jump or try to land in an unfamiliar night field?
According to the instructions, the crew must leave the plane: landing outside the airfield
at night is prohibited.
It comes with a lot of risk.
The life of the navigator, whose cockpit is in front of everyone, in the very nose of
the aircraft, is in particular danger in such cases.
“Sergei Ivanovich,” I said to Kulikov in a completely unmilitary manner.
- You have to jump.
“Let me stay, commander,” he replies.
- I will help you choose a landing site, from my own cockpit you can see better.
- We also want to stay, - the voices of the gunner and the radio operator are heard.
- Allow us?
- Well, well, we will take risks together.
The last, most intense minutes of the flight.
- I focus on the area ahead to the left, - I say to Kulikov.
- Watch, we will work in four eyes.
We are going down.
There is a forest below us, and in it a small meadow turns white.
I turn off the accelerator completely.
The calculation is accurate, but the area turns out to be so small that we skip it.
In addition, I did not take into account that there is almost no gasoline in the tanks and
the plane is lighter.
Moreover, the chassis has been removed.
I go for a second lap.
The fuel is about to run out.
I release the flaps - a kind of air brakes.
This makes the gliding more sharp.
reduces vehicle speed.
For fire safety, I turn off the motors (in the event of a strong blow or breakdown of
the aircraft, the running engines can cause a fire, and then an explosion of a bomber).
The forest ends, the meadow begins, but the plane does not land.
We are in danger of crashing into trees on the opposite side of the landing ground.
It is necessary to turn on the engines and go to the third lap, but ... there is absolutely
no gasoline.
How to be?
For a fraction of a second, a whole kaleidoscope of thoughts flashes in my head.
I remember that if the flaps are abruptly removed during gliding, the plane seems to
fall through, immediately loses altitude, and then do not gape, pull the control wheel
towards you in order to reduce the rate of descent in front of the ground itself.
It is necessary to make only the slightest mistake, inaccuracy - and the plane can soar
up, and then fall down on the wing without speed or hit the ground flat.
And from the blow - an explosion.
But there is no other way out.
I do as I decided.
The plane went down sharply.
It just fails.
I have the strength to pull the steering wheel towards myself and after a few seconds I feel
a slight jolt.
Have landed!
And quite well!
How did we sit down ?! - the guys were sincerely surprised when we got off the plane.
- After all, such a landing area is not enough even when landing at day!
It is difficult to convey the feelings that come to a person in the first minutes after
he experiences mortal danger and remains safe and sound ...
- Sasha, you are a genius!
- Sergey uttered solemnly.
- Come up with this!
Do not get confused!
In seconds!
You are the first knight of the sky!
- the navigator shouted enthusiastically ... When I have completely come to my senses.
I said.
- No, brothers, - Let's think about vigilance better!
After all, if during the flight we closely watched the sky, this might not have happened.
Not for a second should one be distracted and forget that the enemy is somewhere nearby,
that he can use our slightest oversight.
We must always be ready for any unexpected event.
And we remained alive today by pure chance my dear friends.
All the festivity of a safe landing somehow faded at once, receded into the background.
We sat in silence, feeling guilty towards each other.
Almost a week later, on February 26, 1942, we arrived at our airfield.
We got home by a different transport: by horse, by passing cars, and even by a locomotive(локомотив).
And the plane was left in the care of the partisan squad.
Soon, having received a new bomber, our crew began combat work again.
Dear friends, that's all for today.
If you like this video don't forget to press the like button and write a comment.
And watch one more interesting video about Alexandr Molodchy how he met the war with
his crew.
It was Tim and I wish you peace and health.
See you!