STATION 01: Engels airdrome - Training flight

The flight mission wasn't quite the opportunity Larisa had hoped for to impress Litvyak and her squadron. The good thing was that she flew well, surprising even herself. The Yak felt smoother than anything she had ever flown, and being up in the air was a pleasure in itself.

But she was still notably only a private in the midst of the others. Perhaps she had overreached. She landed, and assembled right behind the rest, waiting the lieutenant's next pronouncement.

"Private Dasha Bobkova," Dash says as ordered. "I am from the Kursk Oblast, and I have never left my home town of Zhelenogorsky until the Germans invaded."

"I learned to fly on crop dusters, not unlike these. I have always wished to fly something more, something powerful, commander, but I will fly these for the motherland and to strike back at the Germans! We will drive them back!"

"One question, Major, Dash piped up.

Everything here - everything about this sounded terrifying. They were flying shit planes, half the time using fake bombs. There'd be no communication, no safety, no rescue if they failed.

Her heart was pumping. This would be absolutely exhilarating.

"When can we get in the air?"

Galina listens carefully to the briefing.

She is interested to hear something of Dasha’s training history. Crop dusting , she has heard, is no mean feat. Flying close to the ground, ensuring coverage of the farmland below. How brave these women were! She would strive to be worthy of their sisterhood!

Dash repeats the oath, truly meaning it in her heart."I, Dasha Bobkova, promise to rise to the defense of my Motherland, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, as a fighting man of the Worker’s and Peasant’s Red Army, I promise to defend it bravely, skillfully, with dignity and honor, sparing neither my blood nor my life itself for the achievement of total victory over our enemies."

It's been a long, tiring day, and Dasha is ready for sleep. But there are still things to do. The barracks still need cleaning. She wants to visit her son before he goes to bed. So these are the things she will do. She will start with cleaning the barracks for a while, while there is still daylight out. Then, near dusk, she will visit her son and tuck him into bed. Then she will return to the barracks for sleep.

"No I haven't," Larisa replied affirmatively, barely able to contain her excitement. "Only the Polikarpovs. This was a different experience altogether. I hope I have managed to impress you lieutenant, enough to serve on the squad." There, she said it. It was up to Litvyak to reject her if she found her unsuitable. If she did Larisa would tuck her tail between her legs and try to make her way to the 588th, whom she hadn't even met with yet.

The arrival of the new woman struck Larisa with horror. Was her deception so quickly exposed? Or did she want to brazenly continue to pull this whole thing off and pretend it was all a terrible mistake? The risk was that sooner or later the NKVD would come knocking: sooner if Litvyak raises a fuss, later if Larisa continued to impress her.

Galina helps Dasha arrange an area of the barracks so they can rest more comfortably. She evens offers to help clear a little bunk for Dasha’s child.

Galina’s views on Dasha’s son are mixed. One the one hand, she wonders whether a Soviet fighting squadron should be saddled with a child. On the other, she considers it only fair that all Soviet citizens — fathers, mothers, unmarried folk— have the opportunity to fight in the Great Patriotic War. She decides that the latter is the more Soviet position.

While clearing the space for their beds, Galina is careful to make sure that the objects being shifted are carefully organised and displayed on another surface. She knows what men are like— they’ll dump stuff thoughtlessly, then criticise anyone daring to tidy their stuff as ‘messing things up.’

She writes a short poem about the barracks. Reconsiders in case it appears defeatist, then destroys it.

Galina tries not to show her sadness that the little boy will be staying in the men’s barracks. But it is not her business. Perhaps not even the business of the Party.