In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

10 First Flight Everything was glorious that morning-sun, sky, and earth, so springy beneath my feet. It seemed I could spread my arms like wings and take flight. For what in this world is more extraordinary than flying? This is what I remember: the airfield teeming with bluebells, our airplanes lined up in a row, and us opposite them, wearing our new blue flying overalls, Osoaviakhim1 helmets, and goggles. The flight chief made his report to the aeroclub superintendent while we stood motionless. A gentle wind caressed our faces, and we breathed easily and freely. How marvelous it was to live in the world's bright light! What joy we felt, as though youth could never end, nor life itself. "To the planes!" came the superintendent's order. Cadet Tugushi climbed into the rear cockpit behind our instructor, Georgi Miroyevsky. We all envied our comrade terribly for his good fortune-for being the first to taste the sky. "Staaaaart your engine!" the superintendent commanded. "Switches off!" pronounced the instructor. To the mechanic standing by the propeller, he ordered, "Fill engine!" "Filling!" cried the mechanic, pulling tl1e propeller tl1rough to prime the cylinders. "Start engine!" "Starting!" "Clear prop!" "Clear prop!" repeated the mechanic, giving the propeller blade a forceful yank. As the engine turned slowly through one compression, he stepped briskly to the side. The propeller rotated, and the engine coughed, spat a tiny puff of smoke, and roared to life. The instructor spread his arms to signal the mechanic to remove the chocks from under the wheels, and the airplane began taxiing gracefully to the runway. 1 Osoaviakhim is a shortened form of (more simply stated) "The Society for the Defense, Aviation, and Chemical Industries." Organized nationally in 1927 as a paramilitary group to prepare people for civil defense roles, the organization encouraged thousands of young volunteers to train as pilots and for other military specialties (such as marksmanship, parachuting, and first aid) in the years before the war. It had millions of members, a third of whom were women. 36 RED SKY, BLACK DEATH Together with the slipcovers and instrument bags, we sat in the "quadrant " -the spot on the airfield designated for waiting cadets and equipment -fixing our eyes on the plane as it circled the aerodrome a few times and landed. We rushed to meet it, but the mechanic blocked our way. "Just Yegorova !" he barked. I grabbed hold of the wing and loped along, trying to keep up with the plane. The instructor shouted, "Next!" without shutting down the engine. We encircled Tugushi and bombarded him with questions. "Was it good? "Great!" he answered, grinning with all his teeth. "It wasn't scary?" I asked. "Not at all." "What did you see?" Tugushi pondered for a moment, then said, "The instructor's head, the tachometer, and the instructor's face in the mirror." uThat's it?" "Not too much else," Tugushi answered earnestly, as we burst out laughing. My tum came next. "May I?" I asked the instructor. Miroyevsky nodded his approval. I climbed into the rear cabin, buckled in, and connected the intercom cord, slowly and deliberately, so as not to betray my nervousness. "Ready?" he asked impatiently, watching me in the mirror. "Ready!" I shouted, over the drone of the engine. Through the intercom, the instructor briefed me. On this flight, he would do everything himself. I would hold the controls very lightly to learn how they operated. "Pay attention to how I lift off and tum the airplane," he instructed, then added at last, "Let's take off!" Once we were in the air, only the instructor spoke. "We took off southwest . To the right is Golitsino and Bolshiye Vyazmy. On the left, the train station at Maliye Vyazmy. Let's make the first tum." He had my full attention. I tried to memorize everything I saw below me and the movements of the controls at the same time. "Below us is the station at Maliye Vyazmy. Now here's the second tum. Notice my movements!" he repeated. As we flew over a plowed field, the airplane lurched abruptly. I let go of the controls and grabbed the dashboard with both hands, but the instructor didn't seem to notice. "Altitude three hundred meters, flying straight and level," he announced. "Take the controls!" I certainly wasn't expecting that. But I began manipulating the rudder pedals, the control stick, and the throttle. Right away the plane began to list to one side...

Share