Meanwhile Novikov was moving heaven and earth to bring in all the assets needed to defend the south. The new missiles coming off of Sergo’s assembly lines in the Urals were being diverted from other cities and rushed towards the South starting with the Baku area. They both agreed that finishing off the RAF would take precedence and the large scale movement of long range interceptor and fighter units would wait. All jet aircraft and some of the newest point interceptors coming off the factory floors would however make their debut in the South. They would cut their teeth and train in the Black Sea area. Two advantages of this would be that the newest creations of the Soviet Design Bureaus could be tested away from the prying eyes of the West and if the B29 was to show up they would be the perfect counter against such a contingency. They would collectively look like geniuses and masters of strategy in the eyes of Stalin.
Many of the new creations that Sergo had pressed into service were not that new. Mostly point defense weapons that were inexpensive to make and the Germans had pioneered. When you made a list of the weapons Sergo had championed you come to the inescapable conclusion that he had invented nothing new. He was a master of taking a good idea and bringing it to completion. Hence a longer range version of the German He 162 Salamander renamed the Borsch for its simplicity and being inexpensive to make.[37] The Soviet version had taken the advice of Eric “Winkle” Brown of the RAF who did extensive test flying of captured He 162 and found them “delightful to fly” but a design flaw in its tail had killed another test pilot. Mr. Brown had thoughtfully published his thoughts on the He162 for all to see. And all the wrong people saw it. Beria passed this on to Sergo who found the right person to redesign the tail in the defector Perl and these changes had been incorporated in the new design. Georgie made the necessary changes in manufacturing and the Borsch was ready for combat.
Starting with the B variant of the German version the Borsch had twice the range and endurance of the A variant. It was designed to reach for the stars with a rapid ascent to the required height make 3 or 4 passes at the bomber stream and return under power. Unlike the original who’s pilots often lost their lives when forced to perform dead stick landings while under constant attack by enemy fighter bombers. The Borsch was designed for one thing. To destroy a B29 as fast as possible and then return to do it again. Unlike the German version this one was designed to bring the pilot home to fight again and unlike the German version this version would be piloted by trained pilots. Pilots who were trained well and expected to live as well.
The team of Williams and Johnson had made triple ace status in the last war by being able to see in the dark. Combining the Mosquito and radar had created a killing machine that owned the night. Some of the new US planes designed specifically for night fighting might have a future advantage but for now the Mosquito Night fighter was the best there was in the battle space now in contention over Western Europe and Britain. They owned the night and Williams and Johnson were considered among the best.
They were perfectly matched with the pilot Williams’s proclivity for taking the occasional chance and Johnson there to reign him in when he started to wander too far from the garden path. Tonight was like many others with one glaring exception… TARGETS! From the airfields across the Channel in enemy territory close to a hundred echoes bounced back to warn Fighter Command that something was rising into the night. Exciting times if you were a night fighter but puzzling none the less. Why now?
Since the inception of the battle the VVS had declined to fight at night. The RAF had conducted many raids and created many widows and the response had been muted to say the least. Even the Night Witches had ceased to fly. It was widely surmised that the Soviets had no expertise, equipment or the training to fight at night. They had no need to swirl about in the pitch dark. Their night defying missiles had put a stop to any large strategic bombing raids for now and the pin pricks visited upon their airbases at night were a mere nuisance and not worthy of concerted effort in the large scheme of things. Similar to Washing Machine Charley[38] or their own Night Witches. An irritant but not a strategic or even a major tactical concern.
Yet tonight they had arisen from the shores of the Channel and were flying West with what seemed like a purpose. Almost 100, what seemed like solo missions, spread out and flying due West at low to medium altitude. The new models of radar easily picked them up and they must have known that, yet here they were flying into what would seem to be certain destruction. True the AA defenses had been decimated but he night fighter units had been largely untouched and had been well hidden during the onslaughts of the previous days that had decimated their daylight counterparts. For the most part the night fighter units were intact and ready to deal death.
Williams dove down and approached the much slower target from the lower rear heading Towards the West but still over the Channel. When he got within 2km he saw a light come from where the target was. For all intents and purposes is looked like a missile being launched. Johnson shouted a warning that another blip was on the radar and closing fast. Williams didn’t need to be told, He could see the damn thing streaking right at him at a tremendous rate. Acting instinctively he put the Mossie in a wing over screaming dive and luckily he timed it right as the missile could not turn fast enough given the closing rate. Williams mind was thinking… the God damn thing turn and would have hit us. It God damn turned. Jeesus where was it now? It was one of those guided things he has heard about. But in the night! What the hell!
“Where is that thing Johnson? Can you see it for God’s sake?
“Hell no… and it’s off the radar behind us somewhere?”
“We can turn faster than it can if we know where it is.”
“It’s got a flame coming out the back it shouldn’t be this hard to see it for God’s sake.”
Williams with his pilot’s eyes, saw the blue flame off to the right as they continued on in the dive. As he was trying to pull up the Mossie creaked and groaned like an old rocking chair before it broke. If there was a tree down there we are dead, he thought. Then wham the missile exploded as it was turning towards them again.
The wood bomber power zoomed away from the water like only a Mosquito can and was quickly back to a safe altitude. All the unexpected gyrations had caused Johnson to smash his head into the radar scope and put it and his left eye out of commission. Their night was over.
“What in bleeding hell was that?”
“One of those guided missiles the day boys are always talking about I should think.”
“What’s it doing our here in the night? I saw no indication of radar pulses coming from it or the target and where did it come from. The target was moving away from us not pointed at us. We have to get back and report this newest big from Ivan and see if the egg heads can figure it out.”
“How bad are you hurt?’
“Not too, but the scope is off kilter and we are done for the night anyway.”
Just then Williams spotted another missile launch and saw the missile initially drop from the now silhouetted twin engine plane. The missile had indeed launched backwards and was heading with a vengeance at something. That something turn out to be another Mossie. Whomever was in this plane did not react as fast or as correctly as he did. The Mossie turned and dove way too slow and the missile hit it amidships and flames were everywhere along with pilot and crew he assumed. He kicked himself for being so crass at a time like this, but the mind does such things.
In all their maneuverings they were now low and slow and heading back East and heading towards Dunkirk. A tingling feeling went through William’s body and the hair of the back of his neck went up just before another missile slammed into them.