Ivan Konovalov IL2 Shturmovik Pilot

[Nufsed]

The older pilots had a good rapport with the younger pilots. But there was no passing on of experience, at least not in our squadron. This was a great failing. I'll give you the following example: Approaching the target, I'd trim the prop and open the throttle to maximum. That's what I thought you were supposed to do over the target. Result? Speed increased, but also the radius of the turn in its wake, and coming out of a dive I'd find myself on the outside of the circling group - separated from it. And that's just where the German fighters were waiting to 'pick me off.' I did a couple of sorties in this fashion before deciding to reduce power as I pulled out.

Just before one sortie one pilot went and said, "A German can immediately spot a weak link." For some reason this became imprinted on my mind. And when I climbed into my plane loaded with its 400kg bombs, rocket projectiles, armed cannon and machine-guns, I felt tied hand and foot! I could hardly pilot my Shturmovik , being so afraid. Right over the target the group dispersed and took up attack positions. The main thing was to ride out the first flak salvo until you could determine its target. The commander turned left. Suddenly, eight puffs of flak to my left! I had to follow my commander, not get separated... but bursts of flak there... And at that point flooded into my thoughts: "That's it. You've had it. They've spotted the weak link." My heart began to hammer fearfully: any minute now it'll burst, I thought. I'll be honest, I've never been so afraid in all my life. And yet this fear could not dampen my determination. I didn't go to the left, but sideslipped to the right. Just for a few seconds and then a steep dive to the left after my leader. I went into a dive, launched my two bombs. We closed up the circle above the target and began to harry them. On my second approach I dropped two more bombs, on my third fired all my rockets and then blasted them from cannon and machine gun. The sortie was a success - not one of ours shot down.

Some time later, after my ninth or so operational mission, I spotted a poster on display: "Well done young pilot Ivan Ivanovich Konovalov!" The political workers had been doing their bit. I felt really good. And you know. I got the feeling that I would never be brought down. Airmen are a superstitious lot, our main concern was to get past 'unlucky thirteen', and here was I with a sense of invincibility before the event. This cost me dear. On my twentieth mission I made a mistake. We dived, dropped our bombs and, banking left out of the dive, climbed back up to the circling group. On my second approach I released my second bomb and did exactly the same - a left bank to return to the circle. A pattern had emerged which the Germans had "sussed out." On my next approach I should have taken evasive action, but I carried on to the left and instantaneously a shell exploded in my left wing. This flipped me over on my back. Somehow I got the plane back into horizontal flight. Looking left I saw one half of the aileron had jammed in its uppermost position and the other half had become detached from its linkage, but was still manoeuvrable. It was this that saved me. If the aileron had jammed completely, then we would not be here today talking about it. Whilst I was regaining control of the aircraft, the group had re-assembled and I was now detached from it. I didn't give it much thought and charged for the front line. I couldn't control the plane properly because it was constantly dragging to the left. Flak was all around. Hell on Earth! How was it they didn't shoot me down?! I was amazed ... I got myself over the front line and set off back home in relative peace! The plane was dragging to the left. My right arm began to feel tired so I propped up the joystick with the edge of my left knee. Upon landing the plane slewed to the side - it turned out one wheel had been smashed, but the plane landed.

 

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