Daughters of the Night Sky by Aimie K Runyan

Author:Aimie K Runyan [Runyan, Aimie K]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781503946774
Publisher: Lake Union Publishing
Published: 2017-12-31T21:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

November 7, 1942, North Caucasus Front, Sorties: 164

The short, warm nights of summer had given way to the interminable dark and relentless ice of winter. Where we had been flying anywhere from five or six sorties, now we aimed for eight to ten. The Germans had attempted a few raids on our camps the previous day, trying to torch our planes. Anything to keep us from interrupting their sleep. But the raids were always poorly planned, and the foot soldiers encamped nearby warded them off without too much trouble. But they had succeeded in being as big a nuisance to us as we were to them. I understood why they hated us.

Of the twenty-five crews, Taisiya and I had gained the reputation of being among the most fearless teams in the air—each earning the rank of senior lieutenant for our efforts—and Renata and Polina had grown into the regiment’s most respected ground crew, serving as our eyes and ears on the ground, nursing our plane when she suffered broken bones and keeping us supplied with the bombs and ammunition that kept us alive and the enemy at bay. But today was a day of rest, a holiday in honor of the October Revolution.

Our residence was currently a factory that had been abandoned for a safer location to the east—a wise move, given the amount of bomb damage it had sustained. We lay about our makeshift barracks, unable to make friends with the calm. After a year in service, we were too used to constant activity to sit idle. Though our minds yearned for it on the long nights, our bodies betrayed us now that we had the chance for a few hours of rest and leisure. Some of the girls read; others mended uniforms. A few snores sounded from the corner of the room from the lucky few able to sleep.

Sofia’s voice called out, echoing off the bare walls: “Ladies, put aside your diversions, and make yourselves presentable. We’re having a proper celebration tonight. Katya, you’ll want your violin, and Renata, your flute.”

The sluggishness of pilots too long denied proper sleep transformed at once into the bustle of schoolgirls moments before a big dance. Overlarge flight suits were discarded in favor of our daily uniforms, thrown on hastily and in no way ready to stand inspection.

Smells of roasting meat wafted from the dank warehouse designated as our mess hall, and our stomachs rumbled in appreciation. So often we ate what we could between sorties—Polina and Renata always ready with a plate of something, anticipating when we would need it. We never had the time to taste our food, let alone enjoy it. There were other times we were simply too tired, too overwhelmed, to eat much at all.

It was clear the cooks had gone to special effort. This was, after all, in honor of the October Revolution, and the commanders would have seen to it that the best food possible was sent to us to mark the occasion. Roasted beef and pork, piles of white potatoes whipped into clouds, green beans, beets, cakes, and pies.

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