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49 "This Is 'Birch Tree'... How Do You Read?" We received our third reinforcement of aircraft and flying personnel since we'd begun fighting in Taman. The regiment joined the 1st Belorussian Front at our new base in Karlovka, near Poltava, where Tsar Peter the Great defeated the Swedes1 Recently our troops had destroyed a large enemy contingent nearby. All sorts of abandoned German equipment lay strewn about the field, near the former Russian redoubts. Headquarters deemed this an ideal firing range and built an observation tower and an imitation front line, complete with trenches populated with wooden "soldiers," ersatz wooden "cannons," tanks with white crosses, and trucks. Our young reinforcements from the Far East were experienced pilots but had yet to see combat. We had to teach them what previous veterans had taught us, how to bomb, shoot, and navigate to the target. I admit, we "old timers" didn't relish training the young pilots. As we left the front, we were counting on a brief rest in the rear. We just couldn't summon much enthusiasm for dropping cement bombs on a firing-range stage set. The trainees were sick of practicing as well and eager to test their mettle at the front. Our Regimental Navigator, Major Pyotr Timofeyevich Karev, was named Deputy Commander of the 805th, and I was appointed Regimental Navigator. I was very nervous about my new position, and I rushed to see Kozin, the Regimental Commander, to "clarify our relationship." Everyone loved our commander. A brave pilot, he was strict, but fair to his subordinates. He sang songs with us, danced, and shared our sorrows. Our friendly collective called him "Dad." Kozin had recently visited his family somewhere in the deep rear. When he returned, he showed me a tiny photo of his daughter. A girl gazed out of the photo witl1 eyes wide and trusting, looking so like her father's. Two braids emerged from beneath a scarf tied under her chin. "An heiress!" said Mikhail Nikolayevich, laughing. 1 Poltava is an industrial city in the black-earth region of eastern Ukraine and also the name of the surrounding province. In 1709, Peter the Great of Russia defeated Charles XII of Sweden at the Battle of Poltava (fought just northwest of Poltava). A turning point in the Great Northern War (1700-21), the battle effectively launched Russia as a great European power and signaled the end of Sweden's military supremacy. "THIS Is 'BIRCH TREE' ... How Do You READ?" 165 "You know, Lieutenant," he added, "When my wife heard there was a female pilot in the regiment, she got jealous." "Let her get jealous," grinned Shvidky, the regimental zampolit2 "That can sometimes be useful..." Amid these recollections, I climbed down into the commander's dugout and reported to him with a formal salute. "Comrade Commander, allow me to address you!" "Go ahead," Kozin nodded with a reproachful look. "Why have they appointed me the Regimental Navigator? I don't think I can handle it. Everyone will laugh! What about Berdashkevich, commander of the Second Squadron, or Sukhorukov, or Vakhramov? It makes more sense for one of them to be navigator of a men's regiment!" "Are you finished?" the lieutenant colonel asked sharply. "Then about face! Forward march! On the double! Get on with your duties as Regimental Navigator, and don't ever bother me with this matter again." I came to enjoy my new duties, which included teaching classes to the flying personnel and guiding"combat missions" on the radio from the observation tower. After all, I had studied navigation at Kherson, taken navigator courses at Stavropol, and taught classes on navigation when I was an instructor at the Kalinin Aeroclub. So I suppose it made sense that the commanders had chosen me as Regimental Navigator. I recall standing atop the observation tower, looking out over a stupendous panorama. Planes taxied on the airfield, a lush carpet of green. American "Flying Fortresses,,3 took off to fight the Germans somewhere near Poltava . A small river flowed by Karlovka's gardens and the nearby redoubts of Peter the Great that stopped Charles XII in his tracks. All around, the larks sang their hearts out. The telephone rang. I picked up the receiver and heard the flight leader's voice: "Get ready! We're taking off." Somewhere beneath me, the tower's radio station whirred into action. I picked up the microphone, blew into it, and said, "Hello! Hello! Hello! This is 'Birch Tree...

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