We took off at a low altitude and headed north, hiding behind the hill. Jumped over the ridge, and we landed on the point near Daulatabad where GRU (see “Terminology and Glossary” — Editor) was based. We took two more wounded and returned home.
The “whistles” were striking from the top like lightning.
— Hello, “vertical!” (see “Terminology and Glossary” — Editor).
— Keep yourself busy, doves of the peace! — the commander kindly replied. In a few minutes, the air was heavily filled with the sprawling congestion of roaring:
— Reset-r-ro-os…!
And the squadron commander with his calming voice from above:
— Not a bad job…
And the voice of the column echoed:
— Could not be done better.
We were almost exhausted. We reached the hospital, unloaded, and flew towards our parking lot.
The flight engineer F. stepped out of the helicopter and noted that it is evening. Everything around — the parking lot and the helicopters — were in red from the setting sun that send down these mysterious, almost endless, shadows…
He met Lieutenant Mukhametshin who was holding a gun together with a protective helmet in his hand and was curious why the flight engineer F. is still here so late because he was told to replace him. Now he is waiting for the another crew to fly back.
— No need, — the flight engineer F. said — I am in good shape. I feel great, more than ever…
Strangely, he felt a strong excitement; after all of this, he wanted to go back!
He nervously lit up the cigarette and, pacing back and forward on the parking lot, was telling all details of his flight to Lieutenant Mukhametshin.
— This time it is better to go much lower to see if anyone is left there. But firing with machine gun will be risky — it is too far and no damn clear thing to see. Also we can strike our guys.
The engineer-mechanic came to check the machine:
— Have you any holes? Good. Few more trips with this machine will do. Fill the petrol to the maximum, cover this machine and then you can go for dinner.
And he ran away.
What a relief! We filled to full capacity including two additional tanks. But before flight engineer F. was able to take off his gun, the commander, the Major Bozhko, with Senior Lieutenant Shevchenko, approached the helicopter.
— How much petrol did you put in?
— Up to the maximum, as the engineer — mechanic ordered. He said — another crew will fly.
— He is an asshole, — Bozhko spat. — We have no other crew! It is getting dark and we need to fly at high altitude. How we will do it with a full load of petrol plus wounded on the way back? Let’s hope that this machine is powerful enough to accomplish this flight. Start the engine!
And in this moment, flight engineer F., who had just relaxed a bit after the engineer-mechanic order, suddenly felt that his legs could not hold him anymore. The weakness spread over his body. The scenario of events from the previous flight quickly passed through his mind and the flight engineer F. understood that the second flight will be unbearable for him.
— You know, Felix, — he said-it turns out, I am really tired. It is your turn as you said.
— What a hell! — Lieutenant Mukhametshin (who also was hoping to get a rest) started to swear but turned back and went to start the helicopter.
The sun quickly disappeared and suddenly became dark. The tandem of helicopters took off with the safest altitude of 3500. The flight engineer F. finished his dinner, drank a prescribed half glass of vodka, came to his unit and shortly reported to comrades what has been done on the job, and then fell into bed like a log with last words “Wake me up, when they return.”
The military tandem of two helicopters are taken on a flight to Loshkarevka. On the leading board number 10 there is Division commander, the Colonel General. He is in a hurry and nervous. He periodically orders:
— Add the speed.
But the pair of helicopters are already flying up to their limit with a maximum speed. In order to get to Loshkarevka quickly, the decision was made to take a shortcut and fly away from all roads. Now there is nothing around us — harsh desert with not a single reference point. But we don’t need it — the commander goes in a straight line, strictly maintaining the course. The right pilot is absently looking forward, the flight engineer is tapping his fingers on the machine gun.
The Colonel General, who sits behind the flight engineer, pushed his shoulder and asked:
— How much longer?
“I guess, — the flight engineer F. thought — the General thinks that I am the most competent person among all of us”. He nods at the direction of the right pilot:
— Colonel General, ask the navigator.
The Colonel General pushes the shoulder of the right pilot-navigator:
— Where are we?
The navigator, caught off guard, grabbed the map and began studying it for a while, but there is nothing you can see there — it is only a desert. He looks at the map, then at the window, again back to the map. After moving his finger over the map for some time, he questionably looks at the commander.
The enraged Colonel stretched out his hand to the head of navigator and fiercely removed his headset.
— I knew it! — he says, looking at the untied navigator’s hair. — Do you think you can do combat missions with such a hairdo?
The service of heroes
This is just another day. The same people in this chapter. The Division commander, Colonel General, has arrived to Gerat. The military YAZ and BTR approached the landed aircraft. “I will be back in an hour…” — the Division commander said and took off on a military YAZ. BTR was left to guard the helicopters.
— Listen, commander, — the right pilot suggested, — I do have some friendly connections in a bread making factory here. Can I have your permission to get yeast for brewing samogon (see “Terminology and Glossary” — Editor).
— Will a half an hour be enough for you? — the commander looked at his watch.
— I will be back in 10 minutes! — and the right pilot-navigator left together with BTR.
…A half an hour passed, then forty minutes, then forty five…
The commander is nervously pacing back and forward near the helicopter, constantly looking at the direction of disappeared BTR with his pilot-navigator.
— If he will be back, I will kill this brat! — the commander promised to himself.
…A whole hour is gone. Fortunately, the Colonel also has been late.
Finally, the APC (see “Terminology and Glossary” — Editor) arrived and a pilot-navigator’s dead drunk body was unloaded by soldiers.
— Maybe it will be easier to shoot myself before the Colonel arrives? — the commander asked himself, — or better to shoot this animal and report it as a casualty? What can we do with this dead body if we cannot arrange him in the sitting position?
The commander together with the flight engineer F. managed to wrap up the senseless body with tape and placed in a tiny cargo section, tying up the drunken pilot to a spare blade to make sure that this undisciplined body will be not leaving the helicopter until the end of the flight.
Only for a second, the body became the pilot-navigator and mumbled:
— O, commander! I report, their samogon (see “Terminology and Glossary” — Editor) is really yuk! But I must test it to save you from poisoning. I feel sooo baaad!
The military car together with the Colonel came back. The commander saluted to the Colonel and reported:
— The General Colonel! Allow me to report that our pilot-navigator from the leading helicopter got sunstroke!
— This is the one without a proper hair style? I knew it! This why he got it! — with a sort of satisfaction the Colonel commented, — well, where he is? I want to look at him.