C Taylor - Nadya's War

I pulled hard on the stick, rocketing my plane up through the sky. I shot through a cloud layer a couple hundred meters thick. When I broke through the top, I caught a glimpse of heaven. The sun shone like an angel and the cloud tops were as pure as any saint. Up there, there was no fighting, no war, no struggle for life and death. Paradise disappeared when my fighter plunged back toward Earth, and a frozen hell took its place.

Gridnev and Tania were each engaged in rolling scissors with two of the German fighters. A third Luftwaffe came at me from my right, guns blazing. I barely had enough time to snap roll out of his line of fire. I pulled hard on the stick, trying to force him to overshoot, but he went into a high-G yo-yo and barreled toward me again.

“Nadya, bank left,” Alexandra called out. “I can clear him soon as you do.”

I followed her order though I couldn’t see where she was. As I entered the turn, I kept my eyes on the Messer above me and smiled when I saw Alexandra’s tracers rip through his tail. The Messer rolled away, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “I owe you one, Alexandra.”

“Just one? If I’d known you were worth so little, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

Her jab brought a smile to my face as I assessed the situation. The Pe-2s were nearly at the railway station, but Gridnev and Tania were still locked in a fur ball. “Alexandra, stick with that other Messer and protect our Peshkas,” I said, angling my plane to enter the dogfight. “I’m going to clear tails.”

“Understood,” she replied.

Tania appeared to be holding her own, something I was grateful for. She was easy to pick out as her plane was the only one lacking a winter color scheme at this point. Gridnev, on the other hand, was losing both speed and position against his adversary. He’d be in the enemy’s sights soon, and I feared there was nothing he could do about it. My gut grew queasy, knowing how helpless he must feel.

“Major, reverse roll, come right,” I said, lining up the shot in my mind. If I could get Gridnev to extend the fur ball where I wanted, I’d have the fascist dead in my sights.

Gridnev obeyed, and at the same time, the German opened fire. Pieces of metal flew from Gridnev’s wing. “I’m hit!”

His plane entered a dive. The Messer and I followed as he pulled out and banked hard. Again the German fired. I exhaled as his shots flew behind Gridnev.

“I can end this if you level, Major. I only need a half second,” I said.

“Take the bastard out,” he replied, leveling his nose with the horizon.

I chopped the throttle and squealed as the German followed the Major as I’d hoped, presenting me with a perfect target. I mashed the triggers, and large chunks blew off the 109’s tail. A piece of his rudder even bounced off the root of my right wing.

The Messer fired at Gridnev, but with half its vertical stabilizer gone, its aim was sloppy. I pumped another burst into the fighter, and it tumbled toward the earth like a drunk trying a cartwheel.

“You’re clear!” I shouted. My elation grew tenfold when I saw the 109’s canopy open and its pilot bail. “And he’s down!”

Gridnev sighed with relief. “There’s a bottle of vodka with your name on it when we get back.”

Fiery streaks zipped by my canopy, and I instinctively snap rolled to the right to get out of the way. The shots weren’t for me. They hit Gridnev and drove through his left wing and rear fuselage.

“Damn it,” he said as his plane dropped a good five hundred meters in the sky. “This thing’s almost had it.”

My head spun left and right, trying to find where his attacker had gone. Pain raced through my arm, further distracting me. “I can’t find him anywhere,” I said. “Coming down to you now, Major.”

“Negative!” he barked. “I’ll get home. Regroup with Tania and Alexandra and make them pay.”

“Yes, comrade major,” I said, cutting left.

A 109 appeared, corkscrewing around my plane and banking away. The plane’s bright red Jagdgeschwader Udet emblem and yellow eight on its side burned in my eyes. Rademacher was here, and he had at least a dozen more victory tallies painted on his tail since last we met.

“God, this can’t be happening,” I said, horrified he’d been on me again and I hadn’t known it. He must have been using Gridnev’s fur ball for bait as much as I had.

Rademacher flew off, and I wasn’t able to bring my plane around in time to shoot. I wanted to pursue, but Tania was still fighting about a kilometer away. I turned toward her, hoping we could bring her Messer down before Rademacher could reengage. It would be two versus one if we did, and I was confident Rademacher would lose against those odds.

Tania had the upper hand, and the German pilot tried to get her to follow him into a hard turn. She pulled a high-G yo-yo and peppered the 109’s fuselage with her machine guns. To my dismay, there was no noticeable effect.

“This is a tough one,” she growled over the radio.

The German flipped his plane and dove. Tania followed, shooting the entire way. Instead of giving chase, I brought my plane in a high arc and searched for Rademacher. It was a good excuse to give my throbbing arm a rest. Besides, he’d be using our fixation on this Messer against us and I had to account for him. Sadly, he was nowhere to be seen. How that was possible was beyond me.

The lead Peshka pilot radioed in. “Bombs dropping. Egressing.”

I looked left and caught sight of the bombers a few kilometers out, racing away from the rail station. German anti-aircraft fire sent a relentless barrage at all of them. Eighteen bombs hit a split second later, their blasts mesmerizing and horrifying. I could practically feel the concussive wave in my chest.

“I need help!” Tania said. “They’re both on me!”

Her panicked call stopped my heart. I couldn’t see where she was, so I inverted my plane and looked out the top of my canopy. I found Tania skirting the treetops, headed south. She weaved back and forth as two German fighters were locked on her tail and alternated shooting at her. God, how did Rademacher get on her without me knowing?

“Alexandra, we need you,” I said, pushing the throttle all the way forward and going into a dive. “Where’s that German you were on?”

“Put him in the ground,” she replied, matter-of-factly. “I’m with the bombers, but coming to you now.”

It would be three on two at this point. I tried to stay positive, but my mouth ran dry and my hands shook. The pain in them increased tenfold and I wondered if I’d even be able to press the triggers. I distracted myself from those thoughts by talking to Tania. “Keep moving, girl. You’ll be fine.”

She was over a kilometer from my position, but at least I was gaining. All I could do was pray I’d reach her in time. I prayed harder than I had ever before. With each beat of my heart, with each desperate sharp turn she made, I begged for her to live. I didn’t care about shooting down Rademacher, though I’d gladly have smashed my plane into his if that’s what it took. I only wanted Tania to get home. I even offered myself in her place.

Both 109s opened up on her at the same time, and her plane burst into flames. Before it hit the ground, I was already headed to Anisovka, calling Alexandra off and choking back the tears.

I sat near the bank of the Volga River with Zhenia’s cat Bri in my lap. I stroked the top of her head while I stared at the water. The glass-like surface was seductively dangerous, for as inviting as the scene looked, the combination of strong undercurrents and freezing temperatures would prove fatal in short order. As I replayed the loss of Tania over and over in my head, I entertained the idea of swimming out as far as I could and letting Fate do the rest.