“Change of plans for this afternoon’s flight,” I said once I was certain we were alone.
Alexandra sat up. “We’re not on patrol?”
“We are,” I said. “We’re going on a different route, one closer to the front lines.”
“Do you know why Kazarinova changed her mind?”
I shook my head. “She doesn’t know, but I don’t want to patrol an area with no chance in hell of seeing action. We’re going to find some on our own.”
“What are you doing?” Alexandra whispered, taking to her feet. “You can’t just abandon a mission. You could be charged with cowardice or treason, even if you do claim you went closer to the battle.”
Despite the cold, my palms grew sweaty. I knew what she said was true, but this was the first time I’d considered the consequences. In the end it didn’t matter much. I could be shot for being a Christian, for stealing the morphine, even for being a Cossack if the wrong person had a hunch or a bad day—and certainly for Father’s ties to the White Army. It didn’t seem to worsen my odds at being executed to stray from one mission. In a way, it was liberating to chuck caution to the wind.
“I need a kill,” I said. “I’m hoping you’ll understand. This is my last flight if I don’t get one, and where Kazarinova is sending us on patrol, we won’t see any Luftwaffe.”
“Why would this be your last flight?”
I gnawed my lower lip for a few moments as I debated how much I wanted to tell her. I knew I had to tell her something, and I wished I’d thought all of this out more before bringing it up. I decided to give a short rundown of the last couple months. When I was done, I gave her an out. It was only fair. “I’ll understand if you don’t follow. There’s no need for you to risk your life on my account. We’ve only known each other a short while.”
Alexandra rested her forehead against mine. “I don’t like deceptions, but I risk my life for you every time we’re together. I know you’d do the same for me. If I have to fly your wing somewhere else to keep you safe, so be it. I won’t let you go at it alone.”
My heart soared over the heavens even though I could very well be dragging her down to hell. I crushed her in a bear hug. “Thanks. I owe you more than I can ever repay.”
Alexandra gasped and laughed. “For love of everything, let me go before you squeeze me to death,” she said as she wiggled out of my grasp. “How are you going to pull this off?”
“Ten minutes into the flight we’ll still have radio contact with the ground. You and I will have a conversation about an unidentified aircraft headed southwest, low and fast.”
Alexandra grinned. “And we’re going to follow it.”
“All the way to the Don, because that’s where the Luftwaffe are.”
“Little Boar, what is your status?” asked ground control. The transmission was weak and crackled as we were on the edge our radio’s range, and before we left, I’d asked to ditch my Red Eight callsign for the nickname Klara had given me. I figured it would help rebuild my friendship with her, and I loved the smile it had put on her face when she’d heard the change.
“Unidentified aircraft last seen headed two-three-two. Lost visual contact approximately two minutes ago, still in pursuit,” I replied, hoping they’d buy our ruse. Alexandra and I had called in the fake contact a few minutes ago and had been chasing it southwest ever since. Ideally, I wanted to head more toward Stalingrad, as that’s where the majority of the fighting had been, but I didn’t want to risk someone seeing we weren’t chasing anyone, or worse, have them send us home and get fighters from the 437th to make the intercept.
“Copy, Little Boar,” came the reply from our base. “Eyes on fuel and don’t stray too far from your patrol.”
“Understood.”
We flew on, some four thousand meters over the earth, a grey cloud layer above skimming the tops of our canopies. We constantly checked our sixes, and periodically rolled our planes left and right to get a better view of what was underneath us, but saw only steppes below.
By the time we could see the Don, I was frustrated at the lack of Luftwaffe. We peeled west, away from Stalingrad, as I didn’t want to fly into multiple Schwarms of 109s known to be in the area. What I wanted were easy pickings: a recon flight, stray bombers, or if we were lucky, a transport.
“What do you think?” Alexandra asked. “Fuel’s about half.”
I glanced at the fuel gauge on my wing. “I’ve got the same. We can probably land elsewhere if we have to, yes?”
“Where you go, I go.”
Warmth ran through my soul, and I was grateful to have such a girl flying at my side. The effectiveness of the morphine added to my uplifted mood. My hands hadn’t felt this good since before they were burned. The drug did give me a slight headache, and I occasionally felt distant, but neither were an issue if I concentrated on my tasks. Sadly, none of that would matter if I had nothing to show.
“Pushing two-fifths left,” Alexandra said.
“I’m aware,” I snapped. I knew she was doing her job, but the announcement rubbed me the wrong way. I grunted and hit the side of my cockpit. How was it possible we’d not seen a single other plane? Stalingrad was a short flight away and the fascists were knocking on its door. There should’ve been plenty of targets for us to engage. But there weren’t! It was as if God was determined to see me handed to Petrov.
“Let’s head back toward the city,” I said, making a slow left turn. “We’ve got a better chance there. Hopefully we won’t run into a bunch of Schwarms.”
We stuck to flying near the river, as I knew we still had ground forces in the area that pairs of Stukas might want to soften up. Larger flights would be headed for Stalingrad. After a few minutes, I saw the faint outline of the city in the distance. It looked peaceful from where we were, but I knew it was anything but. Down on the ground, the Soviet 62nd Army fought for its life inside the city along with the 64th, while the German 6th Army supported by portions of the 4th Panzer threatened to take it all any day. The carnage, I was told, was nothing like I could imagine. I believed it and didn’t want to try.
“Where the hell are the damn bombers? I thought we were in a war here,” I said, hitting the side of the cockpit once more. Fuel was low, and we’d be running on fumes by the time we landed if we turned back right at that moment. But I wanted a kill. I needed one. I told myself we could always refuel at an auxiliary field if needed. Hell, I’d ditch the plane in a field if I had to, if it meant sticking around long enough to find a target.
“I think I see something, two o’clock low,” Alexandra said.
It took only a fraction of a second to see what she did, and I nearly jumped through my canopy with delight. A flight of four Germans was speeding across the landscape toward Stalingrad, and we were in perfect position to make the intercept with the sun at our backs. They’d never see us coming.
“Orders?” Alexandra said, her voice as eager as I felt.
“We’re going in.”
I put the plane into a dive, and Alexandra followed suit. “One pass and we’re out,” I told her. “Make it count.”
“Always.”
I knew I’d have to do something special for Alexandra when we got back, but in that moment, I told myself to worry about that later and pick a target. It wasn’t an easy choice. There were two Stukas and two 109 escorts. The foremost were slow and easier shots, but they were armored like a tank. The Messerschmitt fighters, on the other hand, couldn’t take as much of a beating, but were nimble. They’d easily dodge my aim if we were spotted.
I decided we should hit one of each. “I’m taking the lead Stuka,” I said. “Hit the 109 on the left.”
“Will do.”