Prohibition of Interference. Book 3. Impact Strategy. Макс Глебов
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I can't see anything, and he's firing with aim! Dropping the rest of the bomb load! Third engine's damaged! Right wing's on fire! We're going down! Flight crew, get out of the plane!”
Where did they come from? I knew that the Germans had night fighters as part of the air defense forces in the cities, but these machines could not operate on their own, without radio guidance from the ground and without illuminating the target with dozens, if not hundreds, of searchlights.
“"Sharks" 5, 9 and 10 heading strictly east! "Sharks" 3 and 6 heading northeast! Don't drop the bombs, they'll come in handy.” I tried to get my planes out of harm's way, but the enemy Dorniers also changed course, catching up with the not-so-fast heavy bombers.
“Lieutenant, head southwest!” I shouted to Kalina. Now in the sky over the battlefield no one but my Pe-2 could prevent the Germans from shooting our TB-7s and Yer-2s with impunity.
I kept giving commands to the bombers. At this point they were two-thirds clear of the bomb load, but there were still plenty of targets below.
“"Shark 6", three degrees to the left. Prepare to drop all remaining bombs!”
I could see that the bomber could not evade pursuit – it had gotten too far away, and my Pe-2 simply had no time to come to its rescue, but the cruel arithmetic of war demanded that I use the bomb load of the doomed plane with maximum efficiency.
“"Shark 6", 70 meters to the right… Drop the bombs! In a couple of minutes you will be attacked by a German fighter. I'll try to cover you, but I need time. The enemy will come in from behind-bottom. You will not see it, but on my command you will open barrage fire – let the enemy think he has been detected. Your task is to hold out for ten minutes.”
“"Hornet", this is "Shark 6". Copy that. Awaiting orders.”
I had eight planes demanding my attention at the same time, and I just didn't have enough time to figure out what was going on. I hastily ordered the computer to analyze the weaponry and equipment of the enemy fighters. They somehow navigated in complete darkness and with no communication with ground services, which means they had something on board that the Germans had not used before.
“"Shark 6", open barrage fire!”
I didn't have time to help the bomber after all. By the time my Pe-2 arrived at the scene of the air battle, the bomber was already on fire and the crew was leaving the doomed plane. The trick of shooting somewhere in the direction of the enemy Dornier gave the TB-7 some time, which caused the German to miss on the first approach and shoot not too accurately on the second approach. However, the enemy pilot did not miss his chance on the third attempt.
Oberleutnant Becker did not know much about the strategy and tactics of ground troops. His speciality was the sky, and, as practice has shown in recent months, it was the night sky. Nevertheless, even to him, a night fighter pilot, it quickly became apparent that something was not going right on the ground as the generals would have liked.
The hum of the cannonade came from both the west and the east. The radio air was clogged with interference, so a Feldwebel sent from the headquarters of the air group, to which his squadron was temporarily attached, brought Becker the command to take off. The Russian night bombers, about which Colonel Richtengden had warned the Oberleutnant, were already hovering over the combat zone, and the commanders of the Wehrmacht ground units complained about the painful air strikes, using very strong terms. Judging by the number and relative positioning of the affected units, Becker and four other Dorniers from his squadron were going to have to deal with a dozen or two adversaries. This did not embarrass the Oberleutnant – in the skies over German cities he had to meet many more British, and the Russians do not expect effective countermeasures and would be easy prey.
The heavy twin-engine jet fighter accelerated briskly down the runway and lifted off the ground. Perhaps Becker would have preferred to go into battle in a Messerschmitt Bf.110, but they had not yet had time to equip them with radars, and he had to make do with what was available. The Dornier also proved to be a good fighter in night conditions, and, by and large, the Oberleutnant was satisfied with his plane.
Making a U-turn over the airfield, Becker set a course for the site of the last air strike, information of which came just a few minutes before takeoff. The rest of his squadron's fighters were given other targets – there was no shortage of them, the angry cries from headquarters at all levels came through the communications lines in a steady stream, though, as Becker suspected, not everyone was able to reach his air group.
“Here they are!” Obergefreiter Gönsler, who served as flight mechanic and radio operator at the same time, reported. “The locator sees them! Judging by the size of the mark, it's a four-engine heavy bomber. The Russians have only a few dozen of them. It would be great luck if we could take it down.”
“Not if, but when, Wilhelm,” Becker grinned. “Turn on the infrared spotlight. The radar is a good thing, but the night sight gives more detail, even though it works at a shorter distance.”
“The Spanner-1 complex is ready, Herr Oberleutnant,” the flight mechanic said as he checked the sight-searchlight combination, “The enemy is changing course! They're trying to get away!”
“It was an accident,” Becker brushed it aside. “The Russians can't see us. They have nothing like our equipment. They just changed course for the next target. They won't get away from us – the Dornier has one and a half times the speed of this bast shoe.”
Far ahead, the ground was covered with flashes of explosions.
“Well, that's right!” Becker nodded to himself, “They were approaching a new target, so they changed course. Too bad we didn't have time to take them down before they bombed out.”
There it is, the Russian bomber. Huge, even compared to a twin-engine heavy fighter, but that doesn't help it… In the night sight, the plane, illuminated by an infrared spotlight, looked very contrasting, and the Oberleutnant slightly raised the nose of his plane, bringing the silhouette of the TB-7 into the sight.
The TB-7 (other names: Pe-8, ANT-42) was a Soviet heavy long-range bomber. Maximum speed (1941) – up to 350 km/h. Bomb load up to 5,000 kg. Practical range – 3,600 km. Practical ceiling 9,300 m. Shooting armament: four machine guns (ShKAS, UBT), two ShVAK cannons (20 mm).
Suddenly flashes flickered ahead, and tracers streaked across the sky, first to the right and above, and then a dozen meters below Becker's plane.
“Shit,” Oberleutnant swore, pulling the plane sideways and simultaneously firing his direct fire machine guns.
“There was no damage to the Russians,” said the flight mechanic with concern in his voice. “They are not changing course. It looks like they can see us after all, Herr Oberleutnant.”
“Even if they do, they don't see us well. The shooting was indirect, but you're right, they knew about us.”
The second attempt did not bring the expected result either. This time Becker decided to approach from the side, but the Russian bomber met him with two machine guns. The Oberleutnant did not try his luck, and after firing at the enemy at maximum range, approached him again from behind. The German pilot felt annoyed. He knew for sure the Russian shooters couldn't see him and were shooting just "somewhere over there," but Becker didn't want to run into a stray burst.
The third run was more successful. The bomber's aft gun mount was firing in a totally different sector from where Becker's Dornier was approaching its target, and the Oberleutnant, firing almost at point-blank range, put two long bursts into the huge carcass of the Russian plane.
“The Russian is on fire! Congratulations, Herr Oberleutnant!”
“There's plenty more of them here, Willie. We're going to have a rough night tonight,” Becker smiled.
“One more mark!” The flight mechanic shouted out in a suddenly changed voice. “It's something small, like our Dornier.”
“The Russians have twin-engine long-range