February 15, 1941, field airfield on the outskirts of Tobinka, a small town in the eastern part of the Brest Fortress. Pen ~ Fun ~ Pavilion www.biquge.info As usual, there is a vast expanse here, only the snow groomer is compacting the gift left by a heavy snowfall last night - more than 30 centimeters of snow.

The speed of this snow shoveling is faster than that of snow clearing, and the only way to ensure the normal operation of the airport is to take the method of compacting the snow, but fortunately, all the fighters stationed here can make do.

Early in the morning, the skinny Lieutenant Mironov called Pankratov and ran to the garage, and the two of them tinkered for a long time before they got the damn classic car engine.

"Damn American!" Looking at the exhaust pipe that was emitting black smoke, Mironov kicked the six-wheeled pickup truck in front of him.

"Milonov, you can save some leather shoes! We'll have to rely on it to get to the train station, and if it's broken, you can borrow a carriage from the farm! Pankratov, with the engine cover on the front of the car, did not give the squadron leader face at all: the two are old friends, and this is usually the case.

"What else can you think about when a car is used as a tractor?" The tall Pankratov rolled up his sleeves and looked at his watch: "Hurry up, the train will arrive at the station in a while." ”

The two got into the cab, and Pankratov put up gear and drove the truck out of the garage and straight for the Tobinka train station.

Today the small Tobinka airfield will welcome a new commander, a deputy group leader, who has just completed his training at the aviation school in Minsk: the original major commander of the airport has been transferred to Bobruisk.

There are more than ten kilometers from the airport to the railway station, and the speeding truck becomes an "ox cart" as soon as it leaves the airport, and it is estimated that it will be difficult to move an inch if it were not for the snow chains on the wheels.

At 9 o'clock in the morning, the military train from Minsk to Brest arrived at the Tobinka railway station, and from the only passenger car stepped a burly major with a large suitcase in his hand.

From the warm carriage to the cold platform, Pokryshkin unconsciously pulled the collar of the military coat. Looking left and right, only a few station porters were busy, and there were no soldiers in sight.

Pokryshkin left the 109 Fighter Regiment last year, underwent three months of tactical command training in Minsk and learned the piloting techniques of the improved MiG-1. There was a lack of experienced commanders at the front, and he himself was sent to this small airfield near Brest as a commander, and did not return to the heroic 109 regiment.

It doesn't matter if you don't go back to the 109th regiment, although the Tobinka airfield has only one squadron of 16 fighters, but the duty is very important: not only is it responsible for the air defense of Tobinka, a railway transit station, but it is also only 50 kilometers away from the Brest fortress, which is one of the most front-line airfields of the military district.

Pokryshkin, who had a keen sense of smell, already had a hunch that he had come to the right place.

Just as he was about to ask the comrades of the workers how to get to the airport, two officers appeared on the platform - "On time!" ”

"Hello, Comrade Pokryshkin, welcome to Tobinka. I am Squadron Leader Mironov, and this is Deputy Squadron Leader Pankratov. "The little lieutenant saluted Pokryshkin.

"Hello, Comrade Mironov, Comrade Pankratov." The car was parked just outside the platform, and Pankratov put Pokryshkin's large suitcase in the back compartment, and the three of them squeezed into the small cab (no comparison to the big trucks with wide cabs a few decades later). ）。

"I'm sorry, there is such a classic car in the squadron that can drive, and the other little guys will lie down when they leave the airport." Changing Pankratov's car, Mironov said to the deputy captain who was huddled together.

"Hehe, it's better than drinking the northwest wind in the back." Pokryshkin didn't care at all.

"I want to go to the regimental headquarters as soon as possible, if you can, can you go there first?"

Mironov spread his hands: "This will be impossible, Comrade Pokryshkin." The regimental headquarters was in Verkhovich, and the road to there had been blocked by the damn snow for almost a week, or you could walk from the sky. The little man pointed dramatically to the sky.

"Forget it, make a phone call when the time comes, it's not important anyway."

Fly a fighter jet to report for duty? - This is not Pokryshkin's style.

The "ox cart" drove with difficulty on the snowy improvised road, and Pokryshkin soon became familiar with his two subordinates, and the title changed from "you" to "you".

The truck staggered forward, passing several small villages along the way. The three of them swayed from side to side in the wheelhouse, and Pokryshkin inquired about some troops.

It was found that on the road there were not only the marks left by his own Ford pickup truck, but also the rutted marks of tracked vehicles: "Milonov, there are other troops in it?" ”

"There's a radar station near the airport, and when it was completed at the end of last year, we have a direct line to the radar station. It's amazing, it can see the planes in the sky, it's our eyes. ”

"New technology." Pokryshkin muttered a sentence: during the training, he learned something about the new equipment of the radar, which is still in the stage of secrecy, and it is obvious that the troops deployed in the front line already know about their existence.

"Look, Deputy Captain, that's our airport!"

Following Pankratov's direction, Pokryshkin saw a tall conning tower: this was clearly only a small field airfield, "and a large permanent airfield should be built here." He thought to himself.

I called the regiment, and the regimental commander Ivanov accepted Pokryshkin's report on the phone, telling him to report back to the regiment when the road was restored.

The barracks is a row house made of logs, and these relatively fresh materials are probably made from the birch forest on the north side of the airport. Even if the engineering team is thoughtful, there is a stove, otherwise it is really enough.

I got to know everyone at the airport, and then I went to see the improved MiG-1 fighters that had not been equipped for a long time - these planes were equipped with more powerful engines, and the technicians in Minsk said that they could reach an altitude of more than 12,000 meters!

At dinner, Pokryshkin went to the dining hall with Mironov: a table made of wood, as well as a bench.

"Deputy captain, don't look at the conditions of the **** hall, the food is not bad, the new cook was a cook before joining the army, and his skills are first-class!"

Pokryshkin held a teapot in his left hand, which contained a half-teapot of beetroot soup, and the comrade who helped the cook turned two spoonfuls of stewed vegetables into the large bowl he held in his right hand, which looked like potato and beef stew, and the aroma was fragrant.

"Yes, you have an appetite just by looking at it."

The hard bread is on the table, and you can cut it yourself.

Pokryshkin, who sat down, took two mouthfuls of vegetable soup first, "It tastes good!" This soup should win a medal for our comrade cook! ”

The laughter of the pilots was heard on the side: the craftsmanship of Private Comrade Dragunsky was not blown out!

"Deputy Captain, your knife is very distinctive." Pankratov, who was sitting on the side, saw Pokryshkin pull a knife from his waist and cut bread, and muttered unidlely.

Cut off a large piece of hard bread and stuffed it into his mouth, handing the knife to the curious Pankratov.

"Finnish knives?"

The handle of the knife is wrapped in bark, a handmade goodie, with a beautiful shape and a sharp edge, which Pankratov had seen in pictorials before.

"It was sent by my former regiment commander, Comrade Sergei Ivanovich Grytsevets, and I was his wingman at the Northern Campaign."

The first ace of the Soviet Union gave something, and now everyone in the dining hall gathered around, and everyone passed it to see the Finnish knife. A lunch passed in Pokryshkin's "Tale of the Northern Campaign".

In the afternoon, Pokryshkin learned more about the situation at the airport and planned to take off the plane once tomorrow. But he also found something that he was somewhat dissatisfied with - only a quarter of the 16 fighters maintained a ready-to-fly rate, and none of the planes had ammunition in their cannons and machine guns.

That's not going to work! Although this was in accordance with the regulations in peacetime, Pokryshkin had become accustomed to the style of the 109th Regiment - as long as the aircraft remained flyable, Sergei demanded that it be fully ammunition ready.

It is not good for gasoline to be stored in the tank for too long, so many planes, although in good condition and in good condition, need to be refueled before they can fly - Pokryshkin immediately asked the ordnance crew to load the four fighters with full fuel.

"In peacetime, on the premise of not affecting the maintenance of aircraft, we should still try our best to deal with the situation in wartime and strengthen combat readiness as much as possible."

Perhaps God did not keep Pokryshkin busy: the next morning, the duty room received a call from the radar station, and Pokryshkin was planning to fly around the sky with Pankratov to familiarize himself with the situation.

"There is a target approaching the border, in the direction of Brest." Pokryshkin, having received the report, immediately ran to the hangar, where Mironov and Pankratov were testing the aircraft.

After briefly explaining the situation, the signal corpsman over there also ran into the hangar: "I have already contacted the regiment headquarters, and the regiment commander wants us to take off immediately, and he is in contact with the air force headquarters of the military region, and he wants us to go up and talk about it!" ”

"There are only two that work, and two over there are changing oil."

"Pankratov and I go up with you, mechanic, push the plane out! Get the other planes ready! Milonov, keep in touch with the regimental headquarters and tell me immediately if there is any situation! ”

Under the loud command of Pokryshkin, who jumped into the cab, everyone immediately went into action, and the two fighters took off as fast as they could, and climbed sharply.

"One o'clock direction, ten thousand two meters, Pankratov, follow me!"

"Yes, Deputy Captain!"

Pankratov's heart was at a loss, the radar reported that the altitude of the German plane had exceeded 12,000 meters, and the theoretical ceiling of his improved MiG-1 was at most more than 12,000 points. (To be continued.) )