Рыбин, Ю. В. Советские асы на Харрикейнах в годы Второй Мировой Войны / Юрий Рыбин . – [Б. м. ] : Osprey Publishing, 2012. – 97 с. : ил., портр. – Англ. яз.

and Guards Snr Lt V V Kravchenko, killed. Orlov, however, avoided the fire poured out from the Bf 110s by making a series of violent turns, although he became separated from the rest of his group and lost sight of them in the process. His lone fighter was quickly pounced on by a Bf 109, although Orlov managed to shake it off with difficulty before returning home at low level. He was the only member of his formation to make it back to Vaenga-2. Meanwhile, having fired at the Hurricanes, the pilots of the Bf 110s backed off to give the German flak batteries an opportunity to engage the Soviet bombers. The twin-engined fighters then gained height and headed back into the sun. With the enemy fighters in a good tactical position for a second attack, the SB bombers abandoned their mission, jettisoned their bombs and headed for home. By this time Kurzenkov had already ordered his fighters to attack the Bf 110s head-on so as to provide cover for the departing bombers. The official report states that ‘Guards Snr Lt Kurzenkov attacked a group of Me 110s and did not return to the formation. He was hit and made an emergency landing’. In his memoirs Sergey Kurzenkov recalled the consequences of this deadly head-on attack; ‘The enemy fighters rushed past. A flame from my damaged wing was fanned by the airflow. I tried to land but the speed was slightly above the normal landing speed. There was a narrow gorge, and sheer dark mountain faces were in front of me. I managed to pull the control column towards me. The aircraft cleared the cliff. My eyes searched hurriedly for another gorge. There it was to the left —a small corrective turn and that’s where I planned to land, but then I decided I wasn’t going to land there. I would hit granite at the end of my landing roll. I put the aircraft into a side-slip to starboard once again, and this time I hit the ground. Impact! I don’t remember anything else. ‘Overcoming dizziness, I tried to get to my feet but something was stopping me. Damn it! I still had my parachute on, but the seat harness was dangling above me. Releasing it, I tried to remove my parachute. I climbed out with difficulty and, to my surprise, I found that I’d been thrown 20 m from the wreckage of the aircraft. Ploughing through the snow, I approached the aircraft. All that was left were sorry remains. Sharp, splintered pieces of bonded wood instead of an airscrew were sticking out like horns. The port wing had become corrugated and resembled a set of elongated bellows. The starboard wing was lopsided and the duralumin had become blackened by smoke, with ragged, gaping holes in it. The engine had sheared its bolts and the whole cylinder block had gone into the cockpit, splitting the dashboard and pushing the control column tightly against the seat. I involuntarily shuddered upon seeing this. What would have become of me if I hadn’t been thrown from the cockpit? ‘Standing on the wing and looking at the shattered cockpit, I glanced into the round mirror fixed to the upper part of the canopy behind the windscreen. I was horrified by what I saw —there was a gaping wound on my forehead close to my left temple. Blood was pouring down my face, and my left eye socket was a solid, bloody mess. It was no joke. I was scared, as I thought that my eye had been knocked out. However, I touched my eye carefully and relaxed, as it still seemed to be intact. 51 © Osprey Publishing • www.ospreypublishing.com NORTHERN FLEET ACES