Daughters of the Night Sky

Never had I thought flying at low altitudes and slow speeds to be of any sort of advantage in any military strategy, but it made sense. The low cruising speed of the Polikarpov and its ability to fly so close to the ground would make us incredibly hard to catch. They couldn’t tail us or give proper chase because they’d stall their engines. The best they could do was fly past us and hope to hit, but we were far more maneuverable than they were—especially flying at five hundred meters. But it was clear our superiors entrusted the expensive equipment and the important tactical missions to the male regiments. I wanted to be philosophical about it all, to say that there had never been a regiment of female aviators before and we had to prove ourselves to get the same consideration, but the male regiments were largely no more experienced than we were. What was worse was that they had the equipment and support to succeed. As I looked at the long row of small biplanes better suited to searching for missing cattle than for fighting in a war, I had my doubts that we had been given the same opportunity.

“We will be working in teams of five,” Sofia went on. “Each team will consist of a pilot, navigator, armorer, and mechanic. This way each pilot and navigator will learn how to work seamlessly as a unit, using your strengths and weaknesses to your advantage. Each armorer and mechanic will learn the nuances of their aircraft and how to anticipate the needs of their particular flight team. The fifth member is always your aircraft. I expect you all to care for them as such.”

Sofia announced the teams, stopping in front of Taisiya first. “Lieutenant Taisiya Pashkova, pilot. Lieutenant Ekaterina Soloneva, navigator. Sergeant Polina Vasilyeva, mechanic. Sergeant Renata Kareva, armorer.”

Just as Taisiya had requested. Taisiya squeezed my elbow in a quick gesture of solidarity. She knew it wasn’t what I wanted but knew better than to say anything, and I was grateful.

“We’ll be looking after you.” Our new armorer, Renata, greeted us with hearty handshakes. The mechanic, Polina, followed suit, but with a measure less buoyancy.

“I’m glad to have you,” Taisiya said, assessing our crew, looking satisfied.

“Yes, we look forward to working with you,” I interjected.

Taisiya cast me a sidelong glance, and I bit my tongue. Up in the air, we would be partners, but our crew needed a leader. Sofia had chosen her for the task, not me.

We were dismissed to the barracks to get outfitted by the quartermaster and settle in.

“The Polikarpov is a good plane,” Polina said as we left the quartermaster’s with our supplies in tow. “She may not be fancy, but she’s sturdy and hard to break.”

“You know them well?” I asked.

“My papa had a similar plane he used for crop dusting, as well as for training my brothers and me.”

“You didn’t take your pilot’s license?” Taisiya interjected, matching our pace. “You seem rather keen on aircraft to not have an interest.”

“Oh, I wanted to,” she assured us. “But aviation clubs cost money we didn’t have.”

“I know how that is,” I said, patting her shoulder. “Had it not been for my scholarship to the academy I’d never have been able to afford it.”

“Or me,” Taisiya admitted. “My father is a farmer, too.”

Polina smiled at us, looking wistful for a moment as she glanced up at the winter clouds whirling in the sky. Had she been closer to a military academy her chances might have been better.

“My mother refused to let me,” Renata piped up, holding the door to the barracks open for us. “She doesn’t like that I’ve enlisted at all. She only allowed me to come because I wouldn’t stop haranguing her about it and she was convinced they’d send me home.”

“It’s a mother’s job to worry. You’ll make her proud,” I said, eyeing my assigned bunk longingly. We would sleep and eat together as a unit, per Sofia’s orders. As before, Sofia had rejected the option to sleep in private officers’ quarters, choosing bunks close to ours for herself and her crew. We changed into our long undergarments—the closest thing we had to pajamas—and crawled into our new bunks.

“Thank you,” Taisiya whispered as the rest of the room drifted off to sleep. “You could have objected, and Sofia probably would have listened to you. I’ll rest easier knowing it’s you up there with me.”

“We’ve got a fine team,” I agreed. “And I trust you to lead it.”

CHAPTER 11

March 1942