Steel Soviet Union

The broken 64mm cabin bulletproof glass fragments pierced Oleg's chest like a sharp knife. The warm blood flowing down from the wound had already soaked the entire flight suit and completely stained it. Blood Robe, the IL-2 attack aircraft that was intercepted by the German BF109 fighter jets during the ground support attack was seriously injured and was on the verge of collapse.

"Can you still hold on? There's still an hour's flight from the airport."

The pilot of another IL-2 attack aircraft flying beside Oleg made a gesture with this meaning towards the seriously injured Oleg at a distance close enough to see each other's faces clearly, and said Soviet pilots who were not equipped with airborne radio communication equipment could only use this backward method to communicate in the air.

With blood splattered on his cheek, Oleg had begun to lose consciousness. Oleg, who could barely see clearly the meaning of his comrade's gestures, forcibly raised his right arm and struck with his little and almost exhausted physical strength. The potential responded.

"The engine has stopped. I'm seriously injured and I can't go back. You go alone and leave me alone."

The engine, which was leaking black smoke from the gap in the engine compartment on the nose of the aircraft, was completely paralyzed at this moment. The Oleg aircraft, whose airspeed had dropped below the 300 mark, would stall completely and become uncontrollable in less than half a minute. Making an emergency landing at a flying altitude of less than 500 meters is the only option left for the seriously injured Oleg.

The bad news expressed by the gestures of his comrades made the pilot of the other Il-2 who had been worried about flying with him feel filled with grief and anger. He just watched his seriously injured comrades stall and crash but was helpless. This is extremely ironic and at the same time incomparable. The cruel reality is simply a kind of bloody soul destruction.

"Damn it, is there really nothing we can do?"

Angrily, he punched the dashboard in front of him with his fist. He turned his head and looked sideways and accidentally saw a scene on the ground out of the corner of his eye, which shocked the accompanying pilot.

"Oleg, look over there! There are tanks of our Red Army on the ground! Make an emergency landing there! They will definitely be able to save you!"

Following the excited gestures of his comrades who were only thirty meters away, he saw the tank column that had stopped on the ground. The iconic majestic steel body of the KV1 heavy tank was seen by Oleg, whose flight altitude had dropped below 500. It was so clear.

Oleg, who has served in the shore-based aviation force of the Baltic Fleet for three years, has never felt that the ground tank troops of the Red Army are so friendly and full of hope as now.

"I saw it, prepare to make an emergency landing now! Thank you, Yeager!"

After struggling for strength to make the last gesture, Oleg randomly began to push the joystick in his hand to level the flight attitude. The Il-2, which had lost all engine power, was now like a brick in the sky and could only glide on its wings. He barely managed to maintain his flying attitude, and the approaching earth was like a zooming camera that heralded an imminent emergency landing.

"The situation is not good. He did not extend the landing gear. It seems that he is preparing to make a forced landing!"

Malashenko, who was holding a telescope on the ground and watching the developments in the sky above his head, did not know that the landing gear retracting and retracting control cable of the seriously injured Ilyushin-2 attack aircraft controlled by Oleg had already been controlled by the German military aircraft. The cannon was interrupted, and the forward view of the plane's nose was severely blocked by black smoke from the engine room. Oleg could only try to force a forced landing based on his feelings and experience.

After finally confirming the situation in the air, he immediately put down the binoculars in his hands, pointed at the sky and Malashenko, who was already flying at a height of less than 300 meters, then gave orders to his subordinates who were standing by.

"Inform the field medical unit to be ready immediately, and have the best young men on standby at any time! Once the plane makes a successful emergency landing, rush forward to rescue the pilot first, and then get as far away from the plane as possible! No one knows whether another incident will happen. Exploded again."

"Everything has been arranged, comrade battalion commander, we will definitely rescue the comrade pilot!"

At the same time as Malashenko gave the order, the Oleg plane finally landed on the ground in a relatively gentle flying attitude. The bottom of the nose and the belly of the aircraft, which were protected by armor plates ranging from 4 to 6 mm, first touched the ground. It was powerful and solid. The body structure of the IL-2 attack aircraft once again saved the precious lives of Soviet pilots.

The IL-2 attack aircraft, with an airspeed of 200 kilometers per hour, was like a sled, dragging violent traces as it rushed forward and bulldozed the wet grassland that had just experienced a heavy rain.

The relatively soft and elastic lawn soil absorbed most of the impact energy of the forced landing. The IL-2, whose wings and fuselage were full of bullet holes left by the German BF109 fighter jet, miraculously did not disintegrate and glided forward for a long time. After a distance of 400 meters, he finally stopped and lay down on the grass dragged along like a seriously injured falcon without any movement.

"Quick! Rush forward! Rescue the comrade pilot!"

Lavrinenko, who took the lead, followed the orders given by Malashenko and led the rescue team to the front of the team.

After getting off the vehicle, the Red Army tank soldiers were still strong soldiers with full physical strength even without tank tracks. A group of Red Army tank soldiers who ran fast with their legs spread out quickly rushed to the shattered fuselage of the Il-2.

The two fierce loaders, whose arms were thicker than the girl's thighs, ignored the danger that the plane's fuel tank might catch fire and explode at any time, and despite the still-constant flow of choking black smoke, they used all their strength to pull apart the broken pieces. The unseemly deformed cockpit cover brought it to light.

"Comrade, are you okay? Give me your hand, we have to get out of here, quick!"

Oleg, whose consciousness was so blurred due to excessive blood loss that his eyes were black, could barely hear someone calling him in the familiar language of his motherland but could not see his face clearly.

The trembling right hand raised into the air was placed on the shoulder of the person next to him like an electric shock. The loader, who was as strong as an ox, immediately grabbed Oleg's blood-covered body and threw it behind him. With extremely crisp movements, he jumped off the fuselage and ran towards the prepared field medical team parked dozens of meters away.

Half an hour later, outside the back of a GAZ truck that had been emptied and covered with a tarpaulin to serve as a makeshift field operating room, it was learned that the pilot had been successfully rescued and he hurried over. Malashenko finally waited until he was taken off A military doctor wearing a mask got out of the carriage.

"What's the situation? Is the pilot still alive?"