10:28 105MSL* 0AGL**

 

“I’m sorry you have to do this Andrei, but you are the only one they can count on right now.” Martin affirmed him as he assumed his position in the seat behind the cockpit.

Andrei was nearly done with his preflight check now. The ground crew had already gone over the plane once, but every pilot flew better with peace of mind.

He had been asked to fly this mission because of his familiarity with the town of Belitoskye. The town where he had spent much of his life. He had probably seen it from the air more than any other man in the United Army Air Guard.

The town had exchanged hands between the forces of the Vostrian government, and successionist ethnic Valtriats several times now. The Valtraits had attacked in the night, with an overwhelming force. Word had just reached Vultysa aerodrome where Andrei was stationed. The courier had only arrived by early morning and could not confirm if any of the aircraft stationed at Belitoskye field had been scuttled, that would be Andrei’s mission. Bomb the airfield and potentially any aircraft that could have fallen into the hands of the secessionists.

“It is fine,” Andrei replied to his gunner. “Sometimes I imagine what it would be like if I could drop a bomb big enough to destroy the whole town. Then no one would have to deal with it.”

 Belitoskye now brought only pain to Andrei. It had been one of the few settlements on the border between the unofficial west and east of Vostria. One of the only places where the population of Vostrians and Valtriats was split down the middle. A place where the peoples had begrudgingly learned to get along. However, when he thought of Belitoskye Andrei could only think of his wife and her death at the hands of the separatists.

* Mean Sea Level. A measure of height above the ocean used by pilots for navigation.

** Above Ground Level. A measure of height above the ground used by pilots for navigation.

 

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10:29 91MSL 0AGL

 

 Kirill faced down the length of the grass runway. He stared upwards towards the sky from behind the spinning blades of the biplane’s propeller. He reaffirmed the fact that his camera was held tightly between the mesh bag and the side of the cockpit and checked for the pistol holstered at his side. In just a moment he would depart towards Belitoskye. His was to affirm the status of the town, after last night’s raid.

Kirill was a Vostrian, though he fought for the secessionists. For many years now he had lived in the west and was even now engaged to a Valtriat woman. Recent times had bred little trust between the peoples, but the Independent Army needed pilots, and even if the Valtriat soldiers did not entirely trust Kirill few among them did not respect him.

Kirill paid little mind to ideas such as national identity. He was a practical person. Not the type of practical person who was studied and had a degree, but the type who was only ever concerned with what they could see, and Kirill could not see Valtria or Vostria. Sometimes he would think about how similar the two words sounded, but that was natural as some thousand years ago they had once been the same people. The divide had been caused by religion, and only grew deeper over time. Kirill did not think about this, he no longer prayed.

The one exception to this rule was his fiancé. He was able to picture her face no matter where he went, or when it was. He thought about her as the plane began to slowly roll forward. He was thinking of when they had first met, she had worn her hair long with a blue summer dress to match.

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10:31 105MSL 0AGL

 

Andrei had just finished inspecting the aircraft and was now climbing into his position in the cockpit. He made sure the altimeter* was strapped tight to his wrist.

“You know, I was there when it started, and I’ll be there when we end it as well.” Said the gunner.

“Shut your trap, Martin. This is why everyone calls you a jinx.” The pilot replied.

The man had been referring to the unofficial start of the war. It had begun in Rezevat the capital of Vostria. Three drunken students from the Vostrian National University had their way with a young woman in the Valtriat ghetto. The students were rough with their assault, and her face was scarred. A mob soon formed, and the students were beaten to death. Martin had witnessed the public execution of several of the members of the mob that occurred the next day. Tensions were already high as the country was less than two years away from the centennial anniversary of Vostria’s annexation of Valtria.

Andrei raised his hand signaling to the ground crew he was ready. A mechanic gripped one end of the aircraft’s propeller and quickly threw his weight against it, turning it in one fast motion. He recoiled as fast as he could as the engine jumped to life, the blades of the propeller now spinning faster than any man could see.

The plane had begun its taxi** out of the hangar and onto the runway now. It was not a far trip, and once he was in position Andrei let up on the elevator and pushed forward on the throttle. The plane rolled forward slowly at first, but quickly pick up speed. He pitched forward ever so slightly, and the back wheel lifted off the ground, the rest of the plane soon followed.

He wore his cap tight but could still feel the cold nip of the wind against his face. Andrei leaned over the edge of the cockpit. He knew the area well and was looking for an old dirt road. He would be able to follow the road Northwest to Belitoskye.

*A flight instrument used to measure altitude. Some early altimeters were worn on the wrist, instead of part of the aircraft.

** The movement of an aircraft on the ground.

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10:33 2100MSL

 

Kirill was now at a cruising altitude, headed East to Belitoskye. He was familiar with the town, he had flown gliders there one summer, several years ago.

The expanse of the forest below him began to give way to grassy fields which itself soon gave way to farmland. It was marked upon the land in a way that couldn’t help but remind Kirill of a quilt sewn of an earthy fabric. He could tell he was getting close to the town now.

                He did all that he could to hold the plane steady in the air. It was a clear day, and what few clouds blemished the sky were at heights even an experienced balloonist could only dream of reaching. Despite nice weather, there was still some wind to contend with, and it took Kirill a bit to fight the air long enough to get a good reading on his compass. Confirming his course towards Belitoskye.

10:36 1650MSL

Andrei was now rapidly approaching the town. He could spot the airfield from his position in the sky. Though he was hesitant to approach too low as he did not know if any of the Vostrian anti-aircraft guns had been captured by the separatists. What he did know was that his plane’s engine could now be heard from the town, and the longer he took to act, would only make things worse for himself.

He had lined the plane up with the airfield now and dove down to make his pass over it. Machine gun fire arose from the airfield beneath the biplane’s flight path. They were moving faster now, having gained speed from the dive. The bullets of the guns either trailed far behind them or landed a distance in front of the aircraft by the time they had gotten to altitude.

Two bombs left their brackets, each from one side of the bottom wings. Then another two, and another. All six bombs had been ejected now and began a violent glide towards the hangars that lined the northern edge of the airfield. This was the cue to return to a climb and leave with all haste. A cue Andrei had taken as the plane soon pitched up and initiated a wide turn to the right. The men were now on the return leg of their flight.

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10:37 1975MSL

 

Kirill was on the approach to the outskirts of Belitoskye when he saw gunfire erupt over the aerodrome near the opposite edge of town. This was followed by a loud bang, a noise he could hear even at his distance and over the sound of his aircraft’s engine.

Carefully scanning the sky Kirill picked out the figure of a plane. It looked to be no bigger than a dot from this distance, but it was contrasted by the green farmland it flew above. Kirill knew he had just come from the only airfield the Independent Army held within range of the town. He quickly concluded that the plane he saw must be Vostrian. 

He corrected course to engage the plane. He was at an altitude above the enemy and lowered his height only slightly to gain more speed, though he could tell from his first glance that he was faster. He was quickly closing the distance between the two planes.

Kirill lined up a shot on his opponent. Suddenly a volley of bullets erupted from the rear of the plane he tailed. Kirill quickly pulled the trigger, returning fire the two machine guns mounted above his engine sprung to life. He could not stay in this position long, and soon after taking the shot he broke off up and to the left.

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10:37.15 1750MSL

 

Andrei heard the sound of Martin’s machine gun. This combined with the light of the tracers he saw pass by him in the air prompted him to pitch into a dive in an attempt to gain speed on their attacker. The gun had gone quiet now, but Andrei felt the brief touch of Martin’s hand on his back. A signal to him that the man was well.

Andrei leveled out the plane. He turned his head around to try and get a visual on the enemy. He saw him stalking above and on his left flank. He also saw Martin slumped over to one side of his seat. Andrei saw the outstretched hand that had touched him moments prior and bullet holes that riddled the rear fuselage of the aircraft. Andrei thought to himself I can’t run, but he no longer wanted to run.

Pulling the stick back, Andrei pitched the plane up and into a sharp turn to the left. His blood went thin, and he felt his vision dull as he struggled to pull through the maneuver. The aircraft too felt the stress of the turn, as it was pushed to its very limits. Straightening back out Andrei could feel his senses returning to him.

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10:37.23 1950MSL

 

Kirill followed his opponent with his eyes, though he himself trailed off to the side. Kirill’s foe was now out of a turn and facing him. Kirill knew that he lacked the power to continue climbing at such an angle and pitched up himself to gain more altitude over the plane.

A spray of lead landed not far in front of Kirill’s plane. He tried to pitch down and gain speed, but it was too late. Another stream of bullets hit the tail section of his aircraft. He quickly turned back to assess any damage. Several bullet holes had been torn in the canvas that stretched over the rudder, and the rest of the tail assembly. He could not see anything else. He turned his eyes back to the other aircraft.

It was approaching a stall having lost most of its speed in the turn and pitching up to a high angle to fire at Kirill had taken what little was left. The pilot was in the process of recovering from the stall and looked as if he was going to begin entering a new turn.

Kirill would not miss this opportunity. He banked into a turn, and pushed forward on the flight stick, pointing the elevators* downwards to begin his dive. The enemy plane was moving slowly and presented Kirill with the large target of the plane’s top-down cross-section. Kirill’s machine guns fired scoring the top of his opponent’s aircraft with holes. He got a clear visual of this as he briefly flew above the enemy.

Kirill pulled back on the flight stick. He knew he needed to use the speed he gained in the dive to climb back up to altitude and maintain his advantage. However, the controls were unresponsive and disobedient to his commands. He turned to his rear and to his horror found the right side of the elevator stuck actuated in the downward position.

*Flap on the tail of the aircraft that controls the aircraft’s pitch.

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10:37.28 1575MSL

 

Andrei pitched down the nose of his aircraft. He couldn’t tell if any of his shots had successfully landed, but he could tell that he had once more received the full attention of the enemy. The enemy was now diving upon Andrei, he followed him with his eyes as he recovered the aircraft.

Now at a reasonable angle of attack, he began a new turn to realign himself with the path of his opponent, but his enemy began shooting at him. In his current position, he was a large slow target, there was nothing he could do but take the hits.

Bullets ripped through the canvas of the upper wings and down through to the lower wings. Andrei looked to his legs. A bullet had hit him in the upper thigh. He had felt no pain, his mind needed to be somewhere else, and he knew adrenaline would dull the feeling of the injury. Though part of his mind could not be distracted from the wound, for he knew if the bullet had reached an artery, he would never leave the outskirts of Belitoskye.

Andrei quickly moved his eyes up to his instrument panel. He was losing oil pressure fast; the engine was not spared by the attack. He pushed the throttle up as far as it would go. The engine would not last long like this, but Andrei did not need it to last long.

The enemy plane passed him overhead, but curiously he did not climb back up after his dive. Andrei spared no chance to miss the opportunity. He had finished pulling out of the turn and now faced the rear of his opponent. He aimed and pulled the trigger. His finger did not let up until his machinegun stopped firing, be it from a jam or lack of ammo.

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10:38.04 1650MSL

 

Kirill tried to pull the aircraft back up into the sky. He tried tilting the wings to the left slightly to reduce the angle at which he was pulled towards the ground. He reduced throttle and put the rudder to the right in an attempt to cancel the left turn he would soon enter. It was possible to fly like this, but with an enemy so close it would be near impossible to pull off.

While he turned to look at his foe, Kirill made sure to keep still on the rudder pedals. The plane was facing him now. As fast as he could Kirill duct into the cockpit, hands and feet still kept firm on the flight controls. He could hear the firing of a machine gun and he felt his seat vibrate as bullets hit its steel backplate.

The gun had stopped for now. It was a comforting feeling to shrink back into the internals of the aircraft, but Kirill knew he could not be overcome by it and had to return to the reality of his fight. Popping his head back up over the armored back of his seat he looked to the tail section of his aircraft. The rudder, which had been angled during the attack to control the biplane, was torn to bits. The elevator and stabilizers* weren’t much better but would still be producing lift.

He knew he only had one option left. He would have to ditch the plane. In the state that it was in it would be impossible to perform a crash landing that one could walk away from.

*Horizontal Stabilizer. Inverted wings on the tail section of the aircraft that provide longitudinal stability.  

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10:38.45 1625MSL

 

Andrei was flying slow on the tail of the opposing aircraft. Slow but gradually gaining speed from the last breaths of the dying engine. His opponent had slowed as well. He was following close enough behind him that he could make out the red-colored bits of cloth that had once formed the Independent Army Roundel painted upon the rudder of the aircraft.

He looked down at his leg and at his wound. The bleeding had dyed his pants a dark red. He saw blood on his seat, he saw it on his boot and the floor of the cockpit. Still, he felt no pain. He looked at his hand on the flight stick, it was shaking.

Andrei was fast approaching his foe now. He could see the other pilots head from over the backside of the cockpit, though he could not focus on it. Andrei closed his eyes. His engine made an unpleasant whimper. The propeller was still spinning, but fast enough that one could follow its every movement with the unaided eye. The plane was now coasting forward.

Andrei thought to himself about what kind of person he was fighting. He asked himself who the other pilot was. He imagined what questions he would ask the pilot. When we meet in hell.

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10:38.56 1625MSL

 

Kirill hastened to unbuckle the harness that strapped him into the seat. It was a struggle in of itself to do such while keeping the damaged plane steady in the air. He had only let up on the flight stick slightly when the plane began to roll back to the right.

He turned his head back towards his tail, still struggling to escape his harness. The enemy plane flew dangerously close now. Kirill could now make out the details of the pilot’s head from behind the windscreen. He stopped fiddling with the buckles for a moment and withdrew his pistol. In haste, he fired all six rounds behind him and into the oncoming aircraft.

Despite its damage, it continued forward towards Kirill. Eerily gliding ever onwards. To Kirill, that plane flew with the visage of the reaper. Kirill was not done fighting yet, however. He was a man who only concerned himself with what was before him, and right now his sole focus lay on the Vostrian plane.

In one final desperate attempt, he let go of the flight stick. Quickly bringing both hands to his breast. He wrestled with his buckle ripping himself free from the restraints. Now his aircraft was tumbling in the air. He tried to push out of the cockpit, but the motions of the aircraft were unpredictable. Kirill was shook violently from side to side, forward to back.

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10:39.05 1600MSL

 

Kirill’s fighter tossed roughly to one side. It stalled and stood still above in the air, if only for a second. Kirill was thrown to one side of the cockpit. He put two arms over the edge of the airframe, his strength was failing him now his back had been brutalized by enduring the rocking of the aircraft without the harness on. Suddenly Kirill was thrown over the edge of the cockpit and into the sky.

Andrei had rammed into Kirill’s fighter. Aluminum spars and spines met wood with canvas sheet as the tail section of Kirill’s plane was obliterated. The plane was pushed forward, turned over, and it soon became one with the bomber. Andrei felt nothing as the debris pierced his flesh. His eyes remained closed. He could not see his wings fold over under the weight of the enemy aircraft.

Kirill turned over along his backside several times as plunged from the height of the aircraft. He had turned over six times before the static line that connected his parachute to the wreckage of the plane, had reached its length.

The chute deployed and he was yanked from his spiraling descent and back into an upright position. He let out an awful grunt as the straps of the parachute put an abrupt tension on his already beaten back. Looking towards his plane, he saw it had broken free from Andrei’s bomber and was now falling to the fields that laid out beneath him.

For the first time in minutes, Kirill could freely think. His life was no longer inhibited by reliance on quick reactions, and focus. As he floated gently back to the earth, he did not concern himself with what would happen upon landing. Kirill did not think of the war, of a free Valtria, or a united Vostria. His main thought drifted to the pistol he had abandoned in the cockpit of his fighter. A birthday gift from his fiancé, a weapon previously owned by her father.

Though another thought bit at the back of Kirill’s mind. He could not fully validate his course of action. He was too late to save Belitoskye. It was not his mission to intercept enemy aircraft. He had almost cost himself his own life and had taken that of two others. He told himself one less plane and pilot now will save lives in the future and quickly tried to forget about it, though he never would.

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Kirill would live as a practical man, only concerned with what was presented before him. There would only ever be two exceptions to this rule. The first would be his wife of many years, whom he had met in the west of Vostria. The second was the pilot Andrei, though Kirill would never know his name. He would always be able to picture his face as he saw it behind the windscreen and through the blades of the propeller. The memory of their duel, the choices Kirill had made, and choices that could have been made, would guide him ever onwards.