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, during the ground support attack, the Ilyushin-2 attack aircraft was intercepted by the German BF1o9 fighter jets and was already seriously injured and teetering on the verge of collapse.
"Can you still hold on? It'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 force responded.
"Stop the car. I'm seriously injured and can't go back. You can go alone and leave me alone."
The engine, which was leaking black smoke from the gap in the engine compartment at the nose of the aircraft, was completely paralyzed at this moment. The Oleg plane, which had already dropped below the 300 mark, would be completely out of control in less than half a minute. At the moment,
Gliding and making an emergency landing at a flight altitude of less than 500 meters was the only option left for the seriously injured Oleg.
The bad news expressed by the gestures from 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 crash and 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 glanced sideways and accidentally saw a scene on the ground out of the corner of his eye, which shocked the pilot accompanying him.
"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, who had already dropped below 5oo at a flying altitude.
It was so clear.
Oleg, who has served in the shore-based aviation force of the Baltic Fleet for three years, has never felt so friendly and hopeful about the ground tank troops of the Red Army as he does now.
"I saw it, prepare to make an emergency landing now! Thank you, Yeager!"
After struggling for strength to complete 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 motivation, 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 staring at the unfolding situation in the sky above his head, did not know that the landing gear retracting and retracting control cable of the seriously injured IL-2 attack aircraft controlled by Oleg had already been removed by the German military aircraft.
The cannon was interrupted, and the forward view of the 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 Malashenko, who was already flying at a height of less than 300 meters in the sky, and then gave orders to his subordinates who were standing by.
"Notify the field medical unit to be ready immediately, and have the best young men on standby at any time! Once the plane makes an emergency landing, rush in and rescue the pilot first, and then get as far away from the plane as possible! No one knows whether there will be a second child.
He was killed for the first time."
"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 aircraft finally made an emergency landing in a relatively gentle flight attitude. The aircraft's nose, which was protected by armor plates ranging from 4 to 6 mm, touched the ground first, making it the first to touch the belly. 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, which can reach an altitude of 200 kilometers per hour, is like a sled, dragging violent traces as it rushes forward and bulldozes the land on the wet grassland that has just received 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 from the German BF1o9 fighter jets, 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 being dragged along like a seriously injured falcon, without any movement at all.
"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 quickly with their legs spread wide rushed to the shattered fuselage of the Il-2 in a short time.
The two fierce loaders, whose arms were thicker than the girl's thighs, ignored the danger that the plane's fuel tanks might catch fire and explode at any time, and faced 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 again.
"Comrade, are you okay? Give me your hand, we have to get out of here, quickly!"
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 ready 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 gets out of the carriage.