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24 Greenhorn The winter campaign of 1942 shattered the myth of the invincible German warrior. We had yet to turn the tide, but our first small successes instilled in our troops a renewed faith in victory, a fighting spirit. Hope characterized that winter for the troops of the Southern Front. Together with the Southwestern Front, our armies penetrated the enemy 's defenses near Balakleya, forming the Barvenkovo Salient, a bulge in the German lines south of Kharkov. Every soldier anxiously awaited the radio dispatches detailing Grechko's and Parkhomenko's daring cavalry raids behind German lines. Day after day brought encouraging reports to our headquarters of how our cavalry's brazen attacks in the bitter cold and black ice of the Russian winter were throwing the Hitlerite camps into panic. Then one day the radio fell silent. Without the daily dispatches, our commanders were blind and deaf to each other's movements. Amid such fierce fighting, the exhausted cavalrymen desperately needed to return to our rear for food and rest. But how could we bring them home now, with the radio mute? How would we find them? "Let's send the U-2," offered General Korolev, liaison commander of the Southern Front. "The U-2?" echoed the army commander doubtfully, glancing reflexively out the window. Snow swirled madly behind the fogged panes. "Who could possibly fly a mission in this weather?" "The pilots of the Liaison Squadron," answered Korolev. On one of those February days, when a blizzard had formed huge snowdrifts along the streets of Filippenko, I was called to the squadron headquarters . They explained the situation at the front and ordered me to fly to Barvenkovo, find Parkhomenko's and Grechko's cavalry corps, and deliver a package marked "Top Secret" to them. General Korolev would accompany me there, and I would return on my own. A brutal wind tossed the airplane violently. The engine shuddered as if with fever, as a howling snowstorm drowned out its steady hum. Everything was going to be all right, I told myself. Still, how could I find anything in this endless, solid curtain of snow? It swallowed the little biplane, gripping it fast in its sticky embrace. Icy flakes pelted my face like tiny needles and frosted over my goggles. Visibility was practically zero. My only hope was my intuition and flying experience. 84 RED SKY, BLACK DEATH Even those reliable counselors are of little use to pilots in a complete whiteout like that one. Still, I somehow made it to Barvenkovo and landed near the railway station. The general climbed out of the cockpit, leaned toward me, gazed at me with sadness in his eyes, and gave me a tiny kiss on my helmet before I flew on. The storm grew more furious, the swirling snow denser. The U-2 rocked and jerked like a child's swing. Orientation was almost impossible in these conditions. What should I do? Return to base? No: I had no right to do so. I had been ordered to find the missing cavalrymen by hook or by crook. Finding them meant saving thousands of lives. Whenever I spied the faintest sign of habitation, I landed the plane to find out whether our troops or the enemy's were in the area. Each landing in these extreme meteorological conditions was a leap of faith. Anyone who pilots planes knows what I mean. Three times I landed and took off again, despite a torrent of snow and blasting wind. Still, I searched, flying as low as I could, examining every dale and ravine. In one small village I spotted tanks, but they opened fire before I could determine whose they were. The blizzard saved me, concealing me from their guns. God knows how my flight might have ended if I hadn't noticed some horses in a narrow ravine. "These are ours," my intuition told me, and I began my descent. No sooner had I touched down, when two soldiers in cavalry uniforms rushed toward me. I had guessed correctly. "Which cavalry corps are you from?" I asked. "The 1st Parkhomenko's" they answered. ''I'm from Front headquarters. Are there any commanders here?" "There's an intelligence commander." A man in a camouflage uniform approached. He introduced himself as the intelligence commander of the 1st Cavalry Corps under General Parkhomenko . He described the situation and location of their 1st and 5th Corps detachments, and I hurriedly marked my pilot's map. "Good for you, Pilot...

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