[Fanfic] Belaya Rus': A Winter's Night in 1942 "Nachthexen"

[nike2422.livejournal.com]

Title: Belaya Rus’: A Winter’s Night in 1942 “Nachthexen”
Author: nike2422
Rating: R
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Belarus, Ukraine, Germany if you look hard enough, Lithuania and Italy are mentioned in passing.
Warnings: War is hell. Also, some jerk teases Ukraine over her large tracts of land.
Summary: Belarus and Ukraine are part of the 588th Night Bomber Regiment during the Battle of Stalingrad.

Part 1Part 2Part 3Part 4Part 5Part 6Part 7Part 8Part 9Part 10Part 11Part 12

Older Stuff



”Bela! Bela! It’s time to come inside for bed!” Lithuania called as he wandered from the outer walls toward the forest. The air already had the chill of night as the sun sank lower behind the trees. He scanned the dark interior between the trunks until he saw her embroidered sleeves and blonde head come bobbing from the darkness into the light.

Belarus ran toward him holding up a large mushroom by its thick stem. “Look Litva! My fingers don’t touch it’s so big!”

“That’s a fine one Bela!” Lithuania smiled and picked her up, settling her on his hip. “It’s getting dark now, you shouldn’t be in the forest this late.”

“But I like the forest when it’s like this. It’s mysterious.”

“It’s dangerous.” Lithuania replied. “And now it’s time to come inside where it’s safe and go to sleep.”

Belarus frowned at him. “When will I not have to go to sleep so soon?”

“When you are older, you can stay up as late as you want. You won’t want to though; you will wish you could sleep more.”

“Never, Litva.” Bela murmured as she yawned and laid her head on his shoulder. “I will stay up all night and dance until dawn.” …

“Bela, Bela! Time to wake up!” Ukraine leaned over the cot and called to her sister, shaking her shoulder. “It’s time to go.” She looked at her face for a moment before straightening up, hands on hips. “Bela, please. The mission briefing is starting soon.”

Belarus scrunched up her face before opening an eye to look at her sister, instantly closing it again when the light mercilessly stabbed it. She felt so tired, but answered her sister with what she wanted to hear. “I’m awake.” She murmured, glancing at Ukraine’s haggard face; she could see her older sister was tired too. “When will we get to sleep again?” She glanced around at the other women who shared sleeping quarters with them, they were all in various states of wakefulness and getting dressed.

“We will get to sleep when we are finished for the night.” Ukraine answered, turning back to her cot to finish dressing. “For now, we get ready to spend the night making sure Germany and Italy get no sleep.”

Belarus groaned. “That’s what you said last night.” She threw back her blanket and slowly sat up, instantly regretting it for the piercing cold that attacked her body. Her back was sore again. “It will be daybreak before we are done.”

“If you know what’s coming, why complain about it?” Ukraine shrugged into her thick coat she wore for their flights. “I will get us some tea, and see what there is to eat,” she added as she grabbed her hat and gloves before walking out of the room with the others.

Belarus stood with her hands on her back. “There will be watery cabbage soup, and a crust of bread if we are lucky. Same thing we have eaten for months.” She bent back and looked at the ceiling, trying not to think about the painful hours she would spend in the cockpit delivering payload after payload all night as her backside grew sorer. She looked around the almost empty sleeping quarters before grabbing her gear and quickly suiting up. At least the padding from her winter flight gear helped cushion her behind from the seat for a while. Her toes and hands always felt frozen by the second or third run and couldn’t be helped.

Belarus stepped outside into the frigid air. The sun had already sunk below the horizon. By the time they were done with their mission briefing it would be fully dark. She wrinkled her nose when she walked past the building where they ate; the smell of cabbage filled the air. She fell in behind the other women walking into the building where they had their mission briefings, and was relieved to see Ukraine sitting inside holding two cups.

Ukraine handed her a cup of steaming tea when she sat down next to her. Belarus cupped her hands around it, warming her fingers as she listened to the details of the mission. Their commander began the meeting by reminding them of the new formation strategy for approaching targets they had started using since engaging in the Battle of Stalingrad. Belarus tried not to think about the empty seats in the briefing room where some of her wingmen used to sit. After successfully bombing German, Hungarian, Italian and Romanian supply camps and reserve troops almost unanswered, Germany had figured out a way to attack them from the ground using searchlights and flak. She heard the order each group would go in, and realized again that she would be the last, which meant she had to deflect fire for the first and second approaches before they would drop their bombs. She sipped her tea and glanced at Ukraine, who sat silently, listening to the orders. She released the bombs in their little plane, and they were talking about which targets needed to be hit.

“I’m hungry, I want to eat before we go.” Belarus complained in a whisper to her sister. Flying that wooden rattletrap on an empty stomach was more than she wanted to think about at the moment.

Ukraine's frown however silenced her, “We always do, you know that. Pay attention!”

Belarus didn’t speak again until the commander wrapped up the briefing. She was pretty sure Ukraine would have snapped her head off if she did. She couldn’t fly that plane and drop the bombs by herself Belarus thought as she finished her tea and followed the other women out of the briefing room to the mess hall. They never had much time to eat, but everyone still took the time grab something before moving on to the planes. Belarus grabbed some bread and held her empty tin cup out for some very watery cabbage soup. She sat down and sipped at the soup before dunking her piece of rye bread into it to soak up some of the weak, flavorless broth. Ukraine came and sat down next to her, a steaming cup of soup in her mug.

"I heard the Americans are sending over food for the army, I wonder if we will get any of that?" She sopped up the soup with her piece of bread and took a bite of it.

"The men will get it first. Is it true American food is terrible?"

Ukraine shrugged, chewing on her bread. Hungry people rarely cared what food tasted like. “Lithuania said the food he ate in America was good-“ She glanced at her sister’s clenched jaw, “Oh, sorry Bela, forgot.” The glare her sister gave her made her cringe.

Belarus went back to chewing on the stale bit of rye bread, dunking it in the greasy, weak cabbage-flavored water. She hated it when anyone even mentioned him in her presence. She stared at the swirling piece of fat in the cup, willing herself to forget what happened when Poland and Russia started fighting over their old empires after World War I. Lithuania disappeared, and only later after her country was torn in half did she find out he had gone to America.

“Are you still mad over losing Vilnius?” Ukraine asked. No matter what, any mention of Lithuania put her younger sister in a bad mood. “At least he came back.”

“Who cares!” Belarus growled, drinking down the rest of the soup. “American food is probably better than this watery cabbage soup with globs of fat in it.”

Ukraine glanced at her. “You got a glob of fat? Lucky.” She finished her food too.

The sisters took care of their utensils and left the mess hall. "Ukraine, where do you think Russia is right now?"

"Somewhere on the front lines, deep in the city by now I imagine. He probably has less to eat than we do. Time for pre-flight checks; stay focused on the mission.”

Belarus didn't want to think about her big brother hungry. “Shame we have to destroy German supplies. They probably have plenty to eat."

The sisters finished putting on their flight gear as they walked to the tarmac to inspect their planes. They could see the women who worked on them finishing with fueling and loading the two small bombs they would carry as their payload. As they walked past a certain hangar, Belarus steeled herself for their daily dose of abuse from the male pilots. They stood around or leaned against the buildings, grinning at them and making comments. It didn’t take long before the usual string of insults, catcalls and laughter could be heard coming from their direction.

“Hey, there’s the one with big tits!” One man shouted, making the other men around him laugh while he cupped his hands over his chest like he was feeling two large breasts. Belarus glared at them and instantly reached for her knife handle, but Ukraine grabbed her arm.

“Bela! Don’t you dare! Control yourself!” She was obviously hurt by their stupid comments, but refused to give them the satisfaction of knowing that.

“Just let me slit one throat, they won’t talk to us again! We have been flying for months and doing our part, does it matter we’re women?” She didn't look their way again as she stormed to her small bi-plane to begin going through the pre-flight check. “At least let me slice open that idiot who makes fun of you!”

“That will accomplish nothing and you know it!” Ukraine answered her, shaking her head as she walked onto the frozen ground to where their planes were waiting. She approached the mechanic and spoke with her, discussing the problem they had last time with the release mechanism sticking. Belarus didn't pay them much mind as she mentally went through the checklist for the different parts of her plane, making sure everything was in good working order before climbing up and slipping into the cockpit.

Ukraine was only a moment behind her as she climbed into the seat in the back. She checked the two bombs below her to make sure they were ready. "How many tonight?" She asked Belarus.

Belarus finished the check on the few simple instruments she used for flight. "Fifteen."

Ukraine stared at the back of her sister's head. "Fifteen, really? You have high hopes. We'll be leaving very soon."

"If we do that many, maybe we won't have to fly any missions tomorrow and we can sleep in."

"You are too funny. Do you really think they will ever let that happen?"

Belarus turned and looked at her. "I can still hope, right?"

They received the command from their ground crew to start the engine on their plane. Belarus felt the little engine turn over and the propeller spin into a blur. She went through the next set of checks with the flaps and instruments, making sure they all responded to her control. She also made sure no skin was exposed for the brutally cold night of flying ahead of them before they were given the signal to go. They took their position with their two wingmen and taxied to the frozen runway. Despite being bundled up to keep out the cold, Belarus could still hear the snow crunch under their wheels and knew it would be another frozen night in the air.

Since she had learned how to fly the little bi-plane, the takeoff was the only part of the night that gave her any thrill any more. Once she was in the air and heading to their target, her mind would be filled with her orders and carrying out her duties, trying to not get shot down. The Germans didn’t try to scramble aircraft in pursuit against their attacks, despite the prize of an Iron Cross for shooting one of them down. For all of the advanced technology of the Luftwaffe, their faster planes were no match for the slow bi-plane; a relic of an older generation. Belarus missed flying for the pleasure of flying and dreamed of a future time when she could do that without dropping bombs on Germans, or Hungarians, or Italians or Romanians.

It was their turn to take off. Belarus had done this so many times she barely paid attention to the ground crew as they gave their signals telling her it was time to go. She played a counting game in her head as she went through the routine, giving her little plane all the thrust it had to lift off and become airborne. It didn’t need much, the canvas covered wooden bi-plane was so small and light it lifted off the ground very quickly. Belarus gained altitude as fast as the plane would allow until leveling off just above the burnt trunks of trees and decimated buildings that had once been homes. It would be early morning before there was any moon tonight, so they would have plenty of darkness for the first run of the night’s mission – a German encampment on the edge of the Axis encirclement.

Belarus joined her wingmen in the new formation and cruised toward their target. She and Ukraine would be the last to drop their payload, which meant she had to fly in twice to divert flak. The first time would be easy, but by the second time Germany would have searchlights powered up and be ready for them. The new attack strategy worked well and she felt confident she and her sister would make it.

Ukraine rapped her gloved hand on the space between their seats to get her attention. Belarus didn’t need to be alerted that the target was in sight. She probably thinks I’m asleep, she thought to herself.

Despite the attempt to keep their location hidden in the darkness, the structures they used for shelter in the freezing cold and their battered supply trucks could still be made out on the edges of the ruins of what had once been a block of apartment houses. She glanced to make sure the other two planes were in formation and idled her engine. The squadron glided in with no more sound than the wind in their wings. They were almost on top of them when the German flak circus began. The Germans was ready for them tonight. No matter, Belarus had a satisfied look on her face as she steered the plane sharply to divert the searchlights away from the center. As the third plane flew in behind them to deliver their wake up call to the German army, Belarus banked the plane sharply in a tight arc away from the lights and multiple explosions of flak. The ground lit up and shook from the small bombs dropping in multiple locations. Once clear of the flak and lights, Belarus restarted her engine and met up with her wingmen for the next pass.

This time the German army below them, desperate to stop the planes from another onslaught trained the searchlights on them long before they were over the perimeter of the camp; it caught Belarus by surprise before she had time to react and divert the plane away. Ukraine and Belarus both gritted their teeth when flak caught the edge of their starboard wing. Ukraine shouted, “Keep going!” Belarus swung around the third time with the engine idled. It took more cranks than she liked to get it started again, and she didn’t have to look behind her to know Ukraine’s face openly showed the panic she felt. “Bela …” her sister’s frantic voice sobbed. Finally, with her heart pounding the little engine roared back to life in time to swing out of the way of a remaining single wall of a building; the glassless windows gaping in surprise at them. Belarus gasped out loud into the frozen air and flew into position behind the other two planes; diving in and gliding past the searchlights under the cover of darkness. While the other planes pulled the flak with them as they sharply banked out to the sides and drew the searchlights with them. Belarus looked for an area not yet hit by bombs. A single person stepped out of a ramshackle shack slapped together from scrap. “Perfect,” she said to herself as she swooped down so Ukraine could do her work.

The controls her older sister used were manual, so the release was crucial. Ukraine had done this hundreds of times, and her timing was perfect. One, then the other small bomb dropped, which gave Ukraine much relief that the release mechanism had been fixed as promised. Belarus glided the plane away sharply; opening the throttle and starting the engine again. As they pulled out and away from the camp, Belarus looked back to see a tall man with blond hair stumble away from the shack before it blew into splinters and made him dive for cover. He looked up and watched them disappear into the night, his useless pistol in his hand.

The planes came together and flew back to the frozen, snowy landing strip. Only one bombing run of several they would make that night. Belarus brought her plane to a stop, happy to be on the ground again. The crews ran over to inspect damage on the planes and get them outfitted for the next run of their mission.

Ukraine patted her sister on the shoulder. “That was some amazing flying. I thought we were going to smash into that wall!”

“No way. We have fourteen more runs to do. Who do we attack next?”

“We head north now, to attack the Italians.” Ukraine replied, giving the damage to their wing a closer look. “It just ripped the canvas a little.”

“Good. I need that wing to fly this plane.” Belarus answered, hopping down from the cockpit to find some warmth before taking off again. She wasn’t going to get any sleep that night, but then, neither was Italy once they were done with him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Author’s Note: The story of the 588th Night Bombing Regiment is awesome. These women flew Polikarpov Po-2 wooden bi-planes built in the 1920s designed for training and crop dusting. With a top speed of 90mph/150kph they were slow but very maneuverable. The stall speed of a Messerschmitt was higher than the top speed of the Po-2 which made it impossible for the faster planes to offer any real pursuit. They eventually gave up, and resorted to flak and searchlights as defense against them. The German army learned very quickly to fear the “Nachthexen” or Night Witches. The record number of sortees flown in one night was 18. The Nachthexen have been the subject of books, movies and three issues of Garth Ennis’s Battlefields graphic novel.