Daughters of the Night Sky

From the rear cockpit the view was generally of wing, windshield, and the back of the pilot’s helmet. In front the view was of propeller and the vast reaches of the sky. It wasn’t like a truck, where you could see the road in front of you. If you wanted to see your target, you looked over the side, sometimes banking the plane to get a better view. I couldn’t see straight ahead, but my view upward was unobscured and spellbinding. As we soared the thirty kilometers to the German camp, the blue velvet expanse of the night sky stretched before us, encrusted with stars shining like diamonds under candlelight.

There was no light below, making the tapestry above a breathtaking display. My father used to point out the constellations when I was a girl, and I found myself wishing I’d paid more attention. One of the few constellations I still recognized blazed ahead of me—the Pleyady—the Seven Sisters. A star for Oksana, Sofia, and Taisiya, who I hoped were somehow looking out for us. And one for Polina, Renata, and me, the six of us bound by our service. The seventh? The Polikarpov that took us on our missions each night and who was, as Sofia had once wisely said, the fifth member of each crew. Separated by life and death, but always united in duty.

I felt no pleasure, no satisfaction, as I dropped my payload on the German camp, but felt secure with Polina in the seat behind me. I knew now how sincere Vanya, Taisiya, and Oksana had been when they said how much easier the task of piloting was with a good navigator in tow. She was my eyes and ears when I needed them. She allowed me to concentrate on the task of maneuvering the craft as we returned through the midnight-blue abyss back to the safety of our camp.

At the end of the night’s work, the women turned to me, their faces expectant. Orders. They’re waiting for me to give orders. I didn’t feel a surge of pride, only the weight of the responsibility I bore to keep them safe.

“Renata, lead the crews in regular maintenance. The rest of you, get some sleep.” Renata beamed at the unspoken promotion from armorer to mechanic. She’d had a brilliant teacher in Polina and would follow her flawless example.

I could have taken the time to get some rest but found myself seated behind Oksana’s desk. My desk. Maps, official orders, and telegrams covered the surface so that the scarred top wasn’t visible. I began to wade through the piles of documentation that had accumulated since Oksana’s passing, on the desk that had always been so painstakingly organized.

The newest message, now addressed to me, contained orders to move west, yet again. Closer and closer to the German border. No regrouping to the east in months. Onward, ever onward.

My orders were clear. Longer sorties. As many flights as we could manage in a single night, every single night the weather allowed for it. Any time there was a suitable target within range, we were to attack.

I knew it meant only one thing: victory was in our reach, but we could not falter if we were to grasp it.

CHAPTER 24

June 1945, the Battle of Berlin, Sorties: 1,106

The city of Berlin lay in ashes. Empty husks of buildings teetered and collapsed at random, filling the streets with dust and trapping war-weary citizens beneath the rubble. The German people eyed us with distrust and stooped their heads, avoiding eye contact. They cowered in the presence of the massive portrait of Stalin erected just outside the Brandenburg Gate. The city, and indeed all of Europe, was being cleaved in two—all that was Soviet, and all that wasn’t. Comrade Stalin had to be pleased with his victory. He’d paid for it with plenty of Soviet blood.

We stood at alert, waiting for an insurgency. The commanders were certain there would be one, but I doubted there would be attacks of any real significance. With Hitler dead in his bunker, the serpent of Germany had been decapitated. There was no one left with the drive to fight. I wondered if, without Stalin at the helm, Russians would have taken to the streets to defend Moscow. It was all too easy to imagine my own countrymen wearing this haunted look of defeat and acquiescence.

Ground troops were charged with keeping the peace, and we were simply there to await the official surrender orders to return home. We found ourselves with almost nothing to occupy our time. Now that we didn’t have missions all night long, we all tried to adjust to a normal rest schedule but found the dark of night too unsettling for slumber.

At odds with idleness, we spent our newly acquired free hours wandering into Berlin during the day as sleep eluded us. Never alone, always in groups. We circumnavigated the outskirts of the city, knowing many of the streets were impassable from the mountains of rubble.

“Do you have the time?” Renata asked, rubbing her bare wrist as we walked along.

“No,” Polina answered. “Does it matter? No one expects us until tomorrow.”