Since electronic devices have entered the life of mankind, there are more and more inexplicable phenomena with their participation. Something strange connects receivers and transmitters of electromagnetic waves not only in space, but also in time.
White cat with mustache
Boris Mikhailovich Tikhomolov broke into long-range aviation (ADD) only in the summer of 1942. Before that, he carried out high-responsibility flights as part of a special communications squadron of the General Staff of the Red Army, and even before that, in civilian life, he carried mail, geologists, doctors, shepherds and the devil-those who even along the deserted routes of Central Asia and the Caucasus. In ADD, life was not raspberry, but, as befits a man, Tikhomolov worked with full dedication and soon received a permanent plane - an Il-4 bomber and a permanent crew: navigator Captain Ivanov, gunner-radio operator Sergeant Zayats and air gunner Sergeant Kitnyuk. And it just so happened that Tikhomolov's plane was the 13th in the squadron …
- Yes, even kill, "13" on the keel I will not draw, - shook his head technician crew. - I already drew for three - did not return from the assignment! Do what you want.
“Vesko,” Tikhomolov agreed after thinking. - Give me some paint …
As a result, a white cat appeared on the keel of the Tikhomolovsky bomber instead of a number - with a mustache, paws, and a tail. And since there is no number as such, there is nothing to be afraid of numerological superstitions!
Promotional video:
Over Berlin
- Reset! - the navigator captain Ivanov shouted into the laryngophone. Fifteen 100-kilogram bombs separated from the bomb racks and with a growing whistle went to visit Hitler. And at that very second the cockpit of the IL-4 bomber, nicknamed the Cat, was flooded with dazzling light: an anti-aircraft searchlight with a capacity of three million candles rested its index finger on it. Five kilometers below the German gunners pressed the trigger pedals of the 88-millimeter cannons, and the night around the Cat instantly turned into a blazing glow of shell explosions. Not with his ears - with his skin feeling the fractional clatter of the fragments piercing the skin, Captain Tikhomolov abruptly put the car on the wing, simultaneously removing the gas from the left engine. Awkwardly falling aboard, "Il" fell down, helplessly flapping its wings. The searchlights either failed to keep the tumbling car in the beam,either they decided that the Russian was finished, but, one way or another, the blessed darkness returned to the cabin. Having regained control, Tikhomolov allowed the plane to descend for a couple of seconds, and then smoothly transferred it to level flight.
- Are they all safe?
- Order, commander, - the navigator puffed from his "greenhouse".
- Order! - this is a cheerful gunner-radio operator Hare from the upper turret tower.
- Order! - this from the lower machine gun reported the air gunner Kitnyuk.
- And it pleases, - Tikhomolov summed up the reports. - Let's go home or something … Arrows! Do not relax, Fritz's interceptors are very partial to the relaxed!
This was the usual long-range air raid on Berlin.
… Dedicated to the 65th anniversary of the Victory …
- Hare, report to the Headquarters on the implementation. - "Cat" gained an altitude of five thousand meters, and the aircraft radio station could now "get through - to Moscow. The ADD crews, having worked in Berlin, reported on the radio about the fulfillment of the combat mission not to anyone, but to the Supreme Commander-in-Chief I. V. Stalin. But this time the Hare was silent for a suspiciously long time, and then, in an apologetic voice, reported that the radio seemed to be covered with a copper basin. It was bad, and not because of the report, but because of the inability to use the direction finder. Navigator Ivanov, although he was nicknamed "Toptygin" in the regiment for his ability to hibernate even in the air, was an ace in navigation and could lead the car to the base in any impenetrable turbidity by radio bearings. And the dregs, which is characteristic, rapidly thickened, covering both the earth and the stars. An attempt to break through the cloudiness led only to a new unpleasant discovery - the left engine suddenly coughed, and the oil temperature in it slowly but surely crept up … It seems that the Berlin anti-aircraft gunners managed to spoil not only the skin of the Cat. Tikhomolov removed the left throttle and, countering the car's urge to turn, went downhill.
- Kolya, how much to the front line?
- At this rate - another four hours.
This meant that the front line, teeming with German fighters, would have to be crossed already in the morning light, moreover, not really knowing the places over which you were flying. The hour dragged on slowly after the hour; dawn was approaching, and with it the intractable problems. Meanwhile, the left engine gradually gave way, and with every minute “I was losing my last defense - altitude. Here the clouds ended with a jerk, and the bomber hung over a monotonous plain, dotted with lakes and rivulets, hiding among forests and copses. Where the hell are we taking this flight?
And suddenly a pleasant female voice rang through the headphones:
- … we are reaping a concert dedicated to the 65th anniversary of the Victory Day of the Soviet Union over Nazi Germany!
Tikhomolov barely managed to catch his lower jaw - fortunately, he was in an oxygen mask. And the guitar busting rang in the headphones:
On parole and on one wing
The text and music were painfully familiar, this is the "signature" song of the actor and singer Leonid Utesov! But he sang it … not Utesov! The voice was young and clear, in contrast to the smoky timbre of the Odessa citizen. And the musical accompaniment was sharply different from the usual - the multi-layered ringing of guitars, which had never been in the Ustov score.
- Navigator, take a bearing! - barked Tikhomolov. In response, something unintelligible was heard, meaning “I know myself! Don't go under the arm!"
And the guitar continued to ring, and the clear voice brought out with an astonishing clarity for an airplane radio station:
- Sergei Chigrakov and his group "Chizh and Company" were with you! - the announcer cheerfully announced. - Stay with us - for you on the air "Radio Chanson"!
- What the … - the Hare began, but did not have time to finish. - Commander, behind us on the left, above us - four Messers!
Tikhomolov narrowed his eyes predatory. For some reason, the radio transmission that had reached them from nowhere had given him unshakable confidence and calmness.
- Four, you say? He purred into the laryngophone. - Yes, at least 24. Did you hear that we still won? We beat them guys! So, our cause is just … Let's dance!
Captain Tikhomolov pulled off the unnecessary oxygen mask from his face and abruptly pulled the wheel away from him, squeezing the maximum speed out of the crippled car.
Nevertheless, they won
It was scary to look at "Cat". How Tikhomolov managed to plant him, even he himself would hardly have answered. The skin gaped with numerous holes, the brake flaps simply fell out from under the fenders, and the chassis tires bulged with torn rubber. There was not a single intact glass left in the Hare's turret, Kitnyuk's helmet was ripped by a bullet, and another bullet got stuck in the navigator's parachute. And yet they won! The leader of the four "Messerschmitts", riddled with the fire of airborne gunners, was now burning down somewhere south of Stary Oskol. forever missing the chance to get the estate in Russia promised by Hitler, and the others, seeing such a thing, decided not to try their luck in a fight with the desperate "Ivans".
Tikhomolov called the regiment's radio engineer to the car.
- Mikhalych, not in service, look at the transmitter. Right now.
- And what is there to look, - after a minute the engineer looked up from contemplation of the device. - Kaput apparatus. A shard at the end straight into the receiving circuit. Can't be repaired, we'll write off for spare parts. Hey, Borya, why are you so tense?
“No, no,” Tikhomolov woke up after a short silence. - There is nothing.
… This strange story, the Hero of the Soviet Union, honored pilot of the Civil Air Fleet Boris Tikhomolov, did not include in his book of memoirs "The Sky on Fire". For obvious reasons. But once on Victory Day, during a feast in his native regiment, the veteran told about the incident with the song to a young pilot, the heir of the long-range aviation business. And he passed all this to the author of the article. I think Boris Mikhailovich would not be against its publication.
Sergey Dunaev. Magazine "Secrets of the XX century" № 14 2011