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21 Abandoned The next day, I flew to a different place instead-to Kalarovka, near Melitopol . I was to deliver a liaison officer carrying operations orders to the staff headquarters of the 9th Army. It was a gorgeous day with unlimited visibility . Hoping to avoid running into any more Fascist "hawks," I flew low enough to shave leaves from the treetops. Ahead I could see a small village drowning in a sea of lush green. Climbing slightly to avoid hitting the trees and chimneys, I spotted a sprinkling of white village huts surrounding a broad valley. I turned toward my passenger, a lieutenant colonel, and made a gesture, as if to say, "Here we are, Comrade!" On my landing approach, a strange movement on the ground caught my eye. Along the road out of Kalarovka, a frantic mass streamed from the village . A roiling chaos of people and soldiers mingled with cattle, carts laden with household items, and military vehicles. Half-ton trucks sped along the side, and infantry men hurried along in small clusters instead of the usual orderly marching columns. I landed the airplane on a hill near a windmill, taxied up very close to it, and shut the engine down. "Something is wrong. Stay here until I get back," muttered my passenger. The liaison officer ran down the path to the village. While I waited, I searched for something to camouflage the plane. Finding nothing, I sat down under the wing to wait. An hour passed, then twenty more minutes, then thirty-and still no lieutenant colonel. The crackle of gunfire rose from the valley, along with the terrified lowing of cattle and the roar of vehicles and fleeing people. Panic seized me. There could be no doubt now. The battle was coming our way. I crawled out from underneath the wing and hurried toward the village to get a better look. From the hillside, I could see the entire village as if it were drawn on the palm of my hand. The valley cut the village in two. The streets on the eastern side were packed with troops, and the western streets were completely deserted . But right behind that emptiness, I could see the front line a halfkilometer away, a tl1Under of war advancing from the west. In minutes, I suddenly realized, the fighting would tear into the silence of those pensive little houses perched along the valley's edge. And so it did. The first explosion smashed into the quiet streets; then a second rang out, then a third. One of the hut roofs caught fire. A slender poplar bent double under the force of that sinister battle wind. Frightened birds swirled up into the sky. The blunt snouts of tanks scrolled across the landscape as if across a movie ABANDONED 75 screen. They ground along on their caterpillar tracks, spitting flames. Their gun barrels seemed to point right toward my little hill, where the U-2 presented an excellent target. Indeed, a shell burst right next to the windmill, sending me running toward the airplane. A full two hours had passed, and still no liaison officer. He must have forgotten all about me. What the devil am I supposed to do? I thought. The Hitlerites would be upon me any minute. I had to save the aircraft. The next shell exploded right next to the plane, splintering planks on the fuselage and wings. I shot into the cockpit and tried to start the engine. Nothing . I needed someone to hand-prop the plane. I spotted a military truck tearing at top speed down the road, rattling along with three good tires and a bare rim. I sprinted down the hill, trying to wave him down. The teen-aged driver tried to swerve around me, so without thinking, I whipped out my revolver and furiously riddled the remaining tires with bullets. He stopped, cursing me, and pulled out his rifle. "Drop it!" I suggested, nodding toward his weapon. "You'd better help me start my plane." The driver gaped at me. I don't think he was expecting to hear a female voice. I put away my revolver. "What do you want?" he said frantically. "Can't you see the Fascists are here? They've broken through the front line. I've got to catch up with the others!" "You'll catch up," I told him. "But I've got to get the plane started, and I need your help." "To hell with tl1e plane...

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