“Wiesbaden is southwest at 229 degrees. When we get closer, we can contact them by radio. Terry said they were expecting the plane, so we’re fine.”
“All right, then.” Suddenly they shot upward and the map book slid off her lap.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m flying again. Finally!” Lilya sang as they climbed sharply. At some point that suited her whim, the wicked glee returned and she dove, spiraling in the descent.
Alex braced herself on the side of the cockpit “Lilya, please! This is crazy.”
“I’m free, Alex. We’re free. The Luftwaffe couldn’t kill us up here, and now nobody can.” She nudged the control column, throwing them sideways again, and Alex gripped her seat as they executed another barrel roll.
“All right. I get it. You love to fly. But please, calm down and get us on the right heading. We’re trying to escape, remember?”
“I know, Alex. But please give me this. Down there on the ground, with those people, that’s your world. But the sky is mine, and being here again after almost two years just makes me want to dance. Let me do one more loop. For Katia.”
“It’s dancing, huh? Yes, all right. A tribute to Katia.” Alex grasped her safety strap. Her brief dizziness as they spun reminded her of what vodka did to her, and she mentally toasted their old comrade, “Za Katyu.” Then, as they came out of the loop, she glanced over at Lilya’s face, ruddy with excitement. This was the woman she’d fallen in love with, the one who knew friendship and loyalty, but no fear. Lilya was back.
“So, do you have that out of your system now?”
“For the moment. But Alex, darling, please promise me I can fly when we’re in America. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but I also have to fly.”
“Why shouldn’t you? You don’t need a war to fly. I’ll introduce you to my pilot friends and help you get a US license. Maybe Terry and Elinor can find a way to use your flying skills, too. Though I think they’ll make you promise to not shoot anyone down.”
“Uff, you Americans. Always with your stipulations.”
Alex snorted and raised a reproachful finger. “Bad Lilya! No more killing!”
Lilya snickered and glanced down at the aerial maps on the cockpit floor. “Fair enough, but now you need to go to work. We don’t have much daylight left.”
“Righto. Navigator checking in.” Alex reached between her knees for the aerial map and checked the compass on the instrument panel. “Set a heading, south by southwest at 229 degrees.”
Lilya brought them around to the right course and they began to cruise. “Do you remember the first time we flew together?”
“Of course I do. We were chased by a Messerschmitt, and you had to practically drive along the ground to ditch him.”
“And the first time we made love in that glider?”
“Never forget it. Deflowering you in a winter flight suit at 25 degrees below zero. When we were almost caught and I left my glove behind, so Major Kazar threw me out of the regiment. All those good times in planes.”
“Aleksandra Vasil’evna Petrovna. Are you always going to be such a sourpuss?”
Alex laughed. “No, I won’t. “And I promise we’re going to do a lot of wonderful things outside of planes. But if you want to fly, you have to work hard to learn English so you can get your license. And to cook. Someone has to do the cooking.”
“I thought we were both going to be spies. Spies don’t cook. They go to elegant restaurants while they’re spying.”
“Oh, right. I forgot about that. Yes, we’ll eat in restaurants.” Alex gazed through the canopy at the orange and pink sky of early evening. Off to her right, the blazing sun had just touched the horizon, and the sudden gaudy display of colors above it seemed to celebrate their escape.
She thought, strangely, of Sparks Murdaugh and wondered if he’d survived the arctic convoys. She wished she could send him a message. Cheers, my friend. The war’s over, I’m with my beloved, and against all odds, we’re flying into the sunset.
POSTSCRIPT
The image of the “Night Witches,” of young women fighting the German invaders in antiquated open-cockpit biplanes, so dazzled me that I had to tell their story and, wherever possible, use their real names. I have reshaped the facts as little as possible, but, as contrition for the authorial sins I have committed, I offer here the historical facts that formed the story’s basis.
The Night Witches—(Nachthexen) was a name given by Germans, not Russians, to the women of the 588th Night Bomber Aviation Regiment (later the 46th Guards) who bombed German forward positions on the Eastern Front. I could not determine when or how the Russians became aware of this name, but it has now become part of the regiment’s history. While the bombardments probably did not inflict serious damage on the German war machine, they did succeed in harassing the troops nightly and kept them from sleeping, and occasionally, they also managed to blow up an ammunition depot. Of the three female regiments, the 588th was the only one to remain all female and to keep their original commander, Evdokiya Bershanskaya, throughout the war. They were beyond heroic, many of them burning to death in their highly flammable biplanes, which had no parachute or radio. The other female units were the 587th Bomber Aviation Regiment and the 586th Fighter Aviation Regiment, which provided some of the most outstanding female pilots of the war.
Lilya Litviak, the model for Lilya Drachenko, was the most glamorous of the “witches,” although, in fact, she spent little time with them before being assigned to the fighter pilots and then to an independent detachment of “free hunters.” She had the highest score of shooting down enemy planes of any woman, closely matched by the other ace pilot, Ekaterina (Katia) Budanova, and both of them were killed in 1943. Her feats described in the novel as well as the shampoo episode are historical. Photos show her as small and blond (apparently chemically assisted), and the general consensus was that she was beautiful. Several accounts state that her father was executed as an enemy of the people, though Wikipedia makes no mention of it. If he was, her admission to flight school was unusual and could only have occurred after her political purification through membership in the Komsomol (Young Communist League.) Accounts of her death vary widely. What is certain is that in August 1943 she was in an aerial battle in the Ukraine when she disappeared over enemy territory. Neither her plane nor her body was found. Her mechanic and friend, Inna Pasportnikova, who survived the war, led a thirty-six-year search for any trace of her. In 1979, they learned of an unidentified woman pilot who had been buried in the village of Dmitrievka. Since no other female pilots had been reported missing in that location, the body (which may or may not have been exhumed) was deemed to be Litviak. In 1990, Soviet President Gorbachev awarded her the highest national honor, Hero of the Soviet Union. Given the flimsy evidence, and even reports of her being seen in captivity, there was room for a novel.
Marina Raskova—The Russian Amelia Earhart, she began flying when commercial air travel was in its infancy in the Soviet Union, and a flight across the entire Soviet Union with two other women made her a folk hero. It was she who had the political clout to convince Stalin to order the formation of the female regiments in 1941. She was adored by her aviators and commanded the 587th dive-bombers until she died unheroically in 1943 by crashing in bad weather.
Tamara Kazarinova (model for Tamara Kazar) was the controversial commander of the 586th Fighter regiment. Some who knew her insisted that she was diligent, dedicated, and merely handicapped by a war wound, while her critics considered her incompetent and claimed her appointment was a reward for denouncing others. Photos of her in uniform show a small woman with a near crew cut, and accounts by those who served under her suggest she was demanding of her pilots and not particularly liked. For reasons unknown, General Osipenko appointed her to the command without the knowledge of Marina Raskova. Her most controversial act was to send her best pilots to fight as free hunters in the Stalingrad campaign in a way that appeared punitive, since most of
them were subsequently killed.
Inna Pasportnikova, model for Inna Portnikova, was Lilya Litviak’s mechanic, who survived the war and is the source of much of the information available on Litviak.
Regimental Aircraft—Each regiment had its own craft, with the most primitive and vulnerable U-2 wood-and-canvas biplanes assigned to the night bombers. The U-2s had no parachutes or radios and carried lightweight bombs under their wings. The day (dive) bombers flew the three-seater Pe-2, and the fighter planes flew the sturdy Yak 1 and its later variations.
Hotel Metropole. Although foreign correspondents were evacuated from Moscow to Kuibyshev during the German advance, they returned in May 1942, and most resided in the stately old Metropole for the rest of the war. The United Press, Associated Press, Time, CBS, and The New York Times, among others, kept permanent offices there and enjoyed a quality of life considerably higher than that of the average Muscovite. Although the nearby Bolshoi sustained damage from German bombardment, the Metropole was spared. Greatly refurbished, the Metropole is still a prestigious hotel in Moscow.
Margaret Bourke-White, the model for Alex Preston, was a photojournalist working for Life Magazine in Moscow in 1941. While other correspondents had little access to the Kremlin, she succeeded in getting Stalin himself to pose for a portrait. She was in Moscow when the Germans violated the Non-Aggression Pact and invaded Russia. Like Alex, she wore a military uniform and enjoyed honorary officer’s status, though she never met any of the female Soviet pilots.
Henry Shapiro was head of the United Press and a career Moscow journalist. While other correspondents came and went, Shapiro was rooted in Moscow, married to a Russian, and was the first foreign correspondent allowed to visit Stalingrad. Battlefield access was very limited, censorship was strict, and the journalists had to submit all reports to the Russian Press office for approval before telegraphing them, often severely cut, from a single office in another part of Moscow.
Robert Capa (real name André Friedman)—Photojournalist who covered five wars, though WWII only on the Western Front. He landed at Normandy with the second wave of American troops and photographed the men taking fire from the German hillside bunkers. While under fire, he took over a hundred photos, though the London lab developing them lost all but eleven of them in an accident.
Lend-Lease/Convoys—Even before entering the war in Europe, Franklin Roosevelt agreed in March 1941 to supply Great Britain, Free France, China, and the USSR with food, supplies, and munitions. The program, called Lend-Lease and managed by Harry Hopkins and General John York, supplied a vast range of war material by way of merchant convoys with military escort. Delivery was along the long Persian Corridor, the Pacific Route, and (the quickest but most perilous route) through the arctic. Almost four million tons of goods went by the arctic route, though over seven percent was lost. The arctic convoys make up a saga in themselves, with hardships of ice, storms, and enemy attacks that equal the violence of any European battlefield, and the merchant seamen suffered extremely high casualties.
The Office of Strategic Services (OSS) was a US wartime intelligence agency formed to coordinate espionage activities behind enemy lines. It was engaged in propaganda, coordinating resistance, and post-war planning. Its Berlin office was led briefly by Alan Dulles (not the charming Elinor Stahl) until it was dissolved in October 1945 and its functions transferred to the State and War Departments.
POW Camps/Russenlager—The Eastern Front was dotted with German POW camps. The camps, identified by their Stalag numbers, rarely had barracks, and for shelter, the prisoners had to dig holes in the earth with their mess kits and hands. Deaths came from disease, exposure, and starvation. One German official noted that, as of February 1942, of almost four million prisoners taken, only one million remained. When the Germans realized there would be no lightning victory, the policy of extermination changed to the use of Soviets as slave labor. As for women prisoners, although Field Marshal von Kluge ordered that “Women in uniform are to be shot,” the order was not uniformly carried out. Not only does captured pilot Anna Timofeyeva record being cared for by a Russian doctor in a Polish POW camp until liberation, but I have also seen at least one picture of captured women in Soviet uniforms. POWS were disavowed by Stalin and thus did not receive aid packages like other prisoners. The few who survived until liberation had to prove they had not deserted, and many were sent to work camps upon returning home.
NKVD included the regular police force and the Secret Police of the USSR. It ran the Gulag system of forced labor camps and was responsible for deportations of entire nationalities and rural landowners (called kulaks) to isolated parts of the Soviet Union. It also enforced Stalinist policy by conducting widespread espionage and executions. During and after the war, it changed structure and name several times, separating into various organizations, and one of those evolved into the KGB we all know from Hollywood movies.
Partisans—Unlike the quasi-independent resistance movements in the west, the Soviet partisans were coordinated and controlled by the Soviet government and modeled on the Red Army (and frequently wore its uniforms). Their role was to disrupt the Wehrmacht’s rear, in communication, supply, and rail travel. Ignoring the anti-Stalinism of the Ukrainians, the Nazis deported Ukrainians as forced labor and maintained its genocidal programs toward Jews and Slavs. The first Soviet partisan detachments in the Ukraine developed out of groups led by Mykola Popudrenko and Sydir Kovpak (in the novel Sydir Kovitch) and became a formidable force in 1943, numbering over 150,000 fighters.
About the Author
After years of academic writing and literary critique, Justine Saracen saw the light and began writing fiction. With eight historical thrillers now under her literary belt, she has moved from Ancient Egyptian theology (The 100th Generation) to the Crusades (Vulture’s Kiss) to the Italian Renaissance. Sistine Heresy, which conjures up a thoroughly blasphemic backstory to Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel frescoes, won a 2009 Independent Publisher’s Award (IPPY) and was a finalist in the ForeWord Book of the Year Award. The transgendered novel Sarah, Son of God followed, taking us through Stonewall-rioting New York, Venice under the Inquisition, and Nero’s Rome. The novel won the Rainbow First Prize for Best Transgendered Novel. Beloved Gomorrah marked a return to her critique of Bible myths—in this case an LGBT version of Sodom and Gomorrah—though it also involved Red Sea diving and the hazards of falling for a Hollywood actress. Having lived in Germany and taught German history, Justine was well placed to write her three previous World War II novels: Mephisto Aria, (EPIC Awards finalist, Two Rainbow awards, 2011 Golden Crown first prize) Tyger, Tyger, Burning Bright, which follows the lives of four homosexuals during the Third Reich (2012 Rainbow First Prize), and Waiting for the Violins, a tale of the French and Belgian Resistance. (2014 Rainbow Best Historical Novel.) Her work in progress, provisionally titled Suffer the Children, tells of two women who take revenge for those who cannot.
An adopted European, Saracen lives on a charming little winding street in Brussels, venturing out only to bookfests in the US and UK, and to scuba adventures in Egypt. When she’s home and dry, she listens to opera.
Other Justine Saracen Titles Available Via Amazon
Books Available from Bold Strokes Books
Twice Lucky by Mardi Alexander. For firefighter Mackenzie James and Dr. Sarah Macarthur, there’s suddenly a whole lot more in life to understand, to consider, to risk…someone will need to fight for her life. (978-1-62639-325-7)
Shadow Hunt by L.L. Raand. With young to raise and her Pack under attack, Sylvan, Alpha of the wolf Weres, takes on her greatest challenge when she determines to uncover the faceless enemies known as the Shadow Lords. A Midnight Hunters novel. (978-1-62639-326-4)
Heart of the Game by Rachel Spangler. A baseball writer falls for a single mom, but can she ever love anything as much as she loves the game? (978-1-62639-327-1)
Getting Lost by Michelle Grubb. Twenty-eight days, thirteen European countries, a tour manager fighting attracti
on, and an accused murderer: Stella and Phoebe’s journey of a lifetime begins here. (978-1-62639-328-8)
Prayer of the Handmaiden by Merry Shannon. Celibate priestess Kadrian must defend the kingdom of Ithyria from a dangerous enemy and ultimately choose between her duty to the Goddess and the love of her childhood sweetheart, Erinda. (978-1-62639-329-5)
The Witch of Stalingrad by Justine Saracen. A Soviet “night witch” pilot and American journalist meet on the Eastern Front in WWII and struggle through carnage, conflicting politics, and the deadly Russian winter. (978-1-62639-330-1)
Pedal to the Metal by Jesse J. Thoma. When unreformed thief Dubs Williams is released from prison to help Max Winters bust a car theft ring, Max learns that to catch a thief, get in bed with one. (978-1-62639-239-7)
Dragon Horse War by D. Jackson Leigh. A priestess of peace and a fiery warrior must defeat a vicious uprising that entwines their destinies and ultimately their hearts. (978-1-62639-240-3)
For the Love of Cake by Erin Dutton. When everything is on the line, and one taste can break a heart, will pastry chefs Maya and Shannon take a chance on reality? (978-1-62639-241-0)
Betting on Love by Alyssa Linn Palmer. A quiet country-girl-at-heart and a live-life-to-the-fullest biker take a risk at offering each other their hearts. (978-1-62639-242-7)
The Deadening by Yvonne Heidt. The lines between good and evil, right and wrong, have always been blurry for Shade. When Raven’s actions force her to choose, which side will she come out on? (978-1-62639-243-4)
Ordinary Mayhem by Victoria A. Brownworth. Faye Blakemore has been taking photographs since she was ten, but those same photographs threaten to destroy everything she knows and everything she loves. (978-1-62639-315-8)
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