Sparrow Squadron by Darius Jung

Author:Darius Jung [Jung, Darius]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781775137108
Publisher: Xinlishi Press
Published: 2018-02-21T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 33: Bread and Vodka

They dug a grave in the yard of Orlovka’s little church. It was the first funeral of the war Aelya had witnessed. Sveta’s body had been taken away and the death not spoken of officially. Galya and Dunya’s bodies had never been found. Just one grave. Forty, whose name eluded most of the pilots, hadn’t yet been found, though Petrushka assured them that no one could have survived the fireball that went down.

Klava, on the other hand, had been found badly mangled but mostly in one piece. Petrushka had reported on this so flippantly, he was scolded by several of his mates. Aelya wasn’t sure if he’d crossed a line or if they were being especially sombre due to Klava’s gender. If it was the latter, Aelya felt almost as angry at them as she did Petrushka.

Lara volunteered to speak so no one else had to. She uttered some standard platitudes, words that blended together indiscriminately to Aelya. In some ways, though the near miss she’d experienced back with the 586th reminded her of the closeness of death, it also made combat seem like no big deal. If she hadn’t died then, what could possibly kill her? Sveta hadn’t died in combat. Those who remained, they were invincible. And in their minds, Klava wasn’t dead, just gone.

When the service was over, they stayed put for a moment. Frost approached the women and consoled Lara, putting his hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry we couldn’t protect her.” He was speaking to all of them.

“Klava didn’t need protecting,” Tonya said. “She died protecting you, trying to cover your landing instead of looking out for herself.”

Frost nodded calmly despite the anger in her tone. Everyone filed slowly out of the yard to walk to the canteen for breakfast. A group of support personnel began filling the grave. Aelya was proud of Tonya for sticking up for the squadron. If the moment came, would she face her death as bravely as Klava had? She recalled the sheer terror that had kept her from breaking against the Messerschmitts, her only clear memory from the day before.

Pilots and staff officers breakfasted together. Sparrow Squadron, as the women had taken to calling themselves, found a table set for eight waiting for them. Aelya half expected Klava to join them at the table. In the corner place setting rested a single glass of vodka and a piece of bread laid atop it. Another similar setting sat on the table for Yusupov’s squadron.

As the women stood looking at the bread and vodka quizzically, Petrushka said, “Don’t you honour the dead in Air Defence?”

“Never had to do it before,” said Lara. She gave an appreciative nod to the canteen servers, then took her seat.

Commissar Dmitriev, who’d also said a few generic words at the funeral, had made himself scarce, as had Muromets. Aelya felt that only those who’d been in combat were allowed to gather here in this moment.

Red, who’d seemed emotionally unaffected as he gave a brief boilerplate eulogy at the service, signalled for his chief of staff to speak.

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