Post by Dave Homewood on Feb 27, 2023 21:05:54 GMT 12
Here is an article from the New Zealand Herald dated 8th of April 1939, about Russia's female military pilots, written by one of them! I honestly did not know they had females flying in the Soviet Air Force before the war, I have always assumed that was a wartime measure.
Women Fliers in the Soviet Air Force
Russia's Best' Known Military Pilot Tells Revealing Story of Achievements
COUNTRY GIRL BECOMES NATIONAL FIGURE
By Captain PAULINA OSIPENKO
IN my early days I never even dreamed of becoming a pilot. My poverty-stricken childhood was spent in the Ukrainian village of Novospasovka, in Dnepropetrovsk Province. My father's constant worry over a piece of bread for us and hard peasant toil kept our thoughts riveted to the soil. The years passed. My school days arrived, but I was not destined to study long. I had to work and help the family. My school days were soon over...
After graduating from two grades of the village school, which left me barely able to read and write, I went to work as a farm hand. At the age of 17, in 1924, I joined the Young Communist league. In 1927 my family joined the collective farm and I at once became absorbed in social activity.
"Scarcely Literate"
Although I was scarcely literate at the time, I soon understood the difference between the collective system and my father's farmstead, which was that of a poor peasant. Oh, I thought, if only I could study a little, I would know so much more.
Shortly afterwards, our collective farm received passes to various agricultural courses. I asked to be given a chance to study and was sent to attend a six-month poultry-breeding Course in Kiev.
But after the first lessons I realised that I was not able to keep up with other students. All the others were seven-year school graduates; I had only two years of schooling. Should I return to the collective farm? No, I resolved that, even if I would have to work day and night, I simply must make good. So I began to study hard.
I thought my head would burst with the effort, but I succeeded. And six months later I was graduated along with the others. Then I was offered, the job of organising a poultry section on a collective farm in Berdiansk District of the Ukraine. And it was there that my fate was decided.
One summer day two aeroplanes flew over, drowning the farmyard cluckings with the roar of their engines. I stood at the gate and watched, breathless.
But what had happened! Surely they were not landing! What a commotion there was in the village! Everyone, from greybeards to toddlers, ran to the field to see the wonderful machines. Of course, I was among the first to get there. The wonder of it dumbfounded me. I did not know what to look at —the 'plane or the aviators. I could scarcely believe my eyes when out of the cabin, together with the airmen, stepped a woman wearing a leather helmet.
"So women can fly, too?" I asked her, my curiosity getting the better of my shyness.
Head Turned
"Of course, they can," laughed the woman (later I learned that she was not an aviatrix, but a nurse).
"Aren't you scared?"
"Not a bit!"
"In Kharkov I knew a woman flyer," said one of the pilots. This turned my head completely. Was it possible tor a woman to be a pilot? If only I could be one! And why not? If I want to, I will. I firmly resolved there and then to become a pilot.
One of the young men I knew from our village was studying in the flying school in Sevastopol. Without much deliberation, I wrote to him. I told him of the 'planes that had landed in our village, of the woman that had flown in one of them, and of the woman pilot in Kharkov. I also want to be a pilot, I wrote. I am only 23, in good health, a member of the Young Communist League. Would he please help me to learn to fly?
"Come to Sevastopol and we'll fix it up!" was the reply. I went.
"As Good as Man"
I pleaded my cause to the chief of the school so passionately, insisting that I absolutely must become a pilot and that I would defend my country no less than any man, that he smiled and suggested that I take the medical examination. All the doctors found me fit, And so there I was, a student of the flying school.
I was given a uniform and a room in the school dormitory. I cannot tell you now how difficult it was for me at first. I pored over my books morning, noon and night. So great was my desire to become an educated pilot that I grudged every moment away from my studies.
In the meantime I witnessed flights the like of which I had never before imagined. I saw a pursuit 'plane soar into the air with the speed of a rocket. The pilot's hand tossed the 'plane to the right, to the left, it revolved around its axis, it turned a complete somersault and made a long loop-the-loop. This beetle-headed machine, marvellously obedient in the air, can do astonishing manoeuvres calculated with fine mathematical accuracy. It is as elusive as a swallow, as graceful as a thrush soaring over the Ukrainian steppes.
As the 'planes would land one after another, I would gaze at the faces of the pilots emerging from the cabins. Who were these supermen who accomplished such unbelievable feats in the air? But after he descends, the pursuit 'plane pilot merges with the mass of 'flyers. His face, his walk, his smile are nothing out of the ordinary. And his story is the same as the others; a factory or a collective farm, the Young Communist League, the flying school, the Party.
Solo Flights
It was not long before I, too, began to take to the air alone. Students are not usually told when their first solo flight will be. And that was what happened in my case. One day I was returning from a training flight with the instructor. I had made a poor landing, and on that day, at least, I could not even have dreamed of flying alone. But without a word about my bad landing, the instructor turned to me and asked me whether I was tired.
"No," I said.
"Well, you're going to do a solo flight now." I could scarcely breathe at the joy and suddenness of it. But I did not betray my feelings.
"Very well, comrade instructor," I replied as calmly as I could.
I ascended. I shall never forget that moment. I was in the air alone. The instructor had remained below. I was flying by myself! I made a successful landing. I rose the second time. And again everything went well. Thus began my solo flying.
But 1 still had a long way to go before I could consider myself a mature pilot. By the end of 1932 I was graduated from the flying school and was sent to study as a military pilot.
Wing Commander
Before long I was appointed commander of a wing. In the course of my work I progressed considerably. Beside my chief job I did a great deal of social, work and helped my husband with his work and studies. I continually strove to better myself as a pilot and learned to shoot. At the same time I did not neglect my general education. I graduated at a workers' preparatory training school and prepared to enter the Military Aviation Academy. In my six years as a, pilot I did not have a single accident, or forced landing.
When I felt sufficiently confident of myself, I asked my commander for permission to make a distance flight. He thought a while and then said: would advise you to prepare for altitude flying. Do you agree?" I did.
In September, 1936, the commander summoned me and told me to make an altitude flight to test the ceiling of a 'plane.
I flew with a navigator named Bondar. We reached 30,000 feet and remained there for 19 minutes. The 'plane could have risen still higher, but I did not care to take the risk. When we landed Commander Kagan congratulated me.
"You have risen higher than any woman in the world," he said.
My husband, a wing commander, also achieved a high altitude, but I had flown higher than he, higher than any of the men in our unit. While training for this flight I ascended 23,000 feet without oxygen apparatus and felt splendid.
Records Established
In May, 1938, while preparing for a non-stop distance flight, I and my crew, Vera Lomako and Marina Raskova, established an international women's record for distance flying in a closed circuit for hydroplanes. We flew 1093 miles. And on July 2, 1938. our crew made the non-stop flight from Sevastopol to Archangel, a distance of 1707 miles, in 10 hours 33 minutes. This was registered by the air sports commission as a double all-Russian women's record: for a distance flying on a straight and on a broken line. The Government rewarded the entire crew with Orders of Lenin. Lomako and I each received the rank of captain, and navigator Raskova was promoted to senior lieutenant.
I do not intend to rest upon my laurels. I will continue to train for flights over longer distances and higher altitudes.
A women's flying squadron, consisting entirely of members of the 'weaker sex " from the commander to student pilots, has been organised in the Bataisk School of Civil Pilots in the city of Bataisk, Rostov Region. At present the school has no fewer than fifty-five fully qualified women instructors, and it is anticipated that there will be double that number by the middle of this year. Hundreds of girl graduates of the Bataisk school are now conquering by air the vast expanses of Russian territory. These young women have been airminded since early youth and consider flying not nearly so dangerous as driving a car in thick city traffic.
They work on the difficult routes of the Fair East. Siberia, Caucasus and Middle Asia. A close second to the Bataisk young women in enthusiasm are the girls who learn rifle shooting in various sniper schools throughout the Soviet Union. In many cases become more expert than the young men.
Condensed from Moscow News, Russia.
See photos here paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/new-zealand-herald/1939/04/08/27
Women Fliers in the Soviet Air Force
Russia's Best' Known Military Pilot Tells Revealing Story of Achievements
COUNTRY GIRL BECOMES NATIONAL FIGURE
By Captain PAULINA OSIPENKO
IN my early days I never even dreamed of becoming a pilot. My poverty-stricken childhood was spent in the Ukrainian village of Novospasovka, in Dnepropetrovsk Province. My father's constant worry over a piece of bread for us and hard peasant toil kept our thoughts riveted to the soil. The years passed. My school days arrived, but I was not destined to study long. I had to work and help the family. My school days were soon over...
After graduating from two grades of the village school, which left me barely able to read and write, I went to work as a farm hand. At the age of 17, in 1924, I joined the Young Communist league. In 1927 my family joined the collective farm and I at once became absorbed in social activity.
"Scarcely Literate"
Although I was scarcely literate at the time, I soon understood the difference between the collective system and my father's farmstead, which was that of a poor peasant. Oh, I thought, if only I could study a little, I would know so much more.
Shortly afterwards, our collective farm received passes to various agricultural courses. I asked to be given a chance to study and was sent to attend a six-month poultry-breeding Course in Kiev.
But after the first lessons I realised that I was not able to keep up with other students. All the others were seven-year school graduates; I had only two years of schooling. Should I return to the collective farm? No, I resolved that, even if I would have to work day and night, I simply must make good. So I began to study hard.
I thought my head would burst with the effort, but I succeeded. And six months later I was graduated along with the others. Then I was offered, the job of organising a poultry section on a collective farm in Berdiansk District of the Ukraine. And it was there that my fate was decided.
One summer day two aeroplanes flew over, drowning the farmyard cluckings with the roar of their engines. I stood at the gate and watched, breathless.
But what had happened! Surely they were not landing! What a commotion there was in the village! Everyone, from greybeards to toddlers, ran to the field to see the wonderful machines. Of course, I was among the first to get there. The wonder of it dumbfounded me. I did not know what to look at —the 'plane or the aviators. I could scarcely believe my eyes when out of the cabin, together with the airmen, stepped a woman wearing a leather helmet.
"So women can fly, too?" I asked her, my curiosity getting the better of my shyness.
Head Turned
"Of course, they can," laughed the woman (later I learned that she was not an aviatrix, but a nurse).
"Aren't you scared?"
"Not a bit!"
"In Kharkov I knew a woman flyer," said one of the pilots. This turned my head completely. Was it possible tor a woman to be a pilot? If only I could be one! And why not? If I want to, I will. I firmly resolved there and then to become a pilot.
One of the young men I knew from our village was studying in the flying school in Sevastopol. Without much deliberation, I wrote to him. I told him of the 'planes that had landed in our village, of the woman that had flown in one of them, and of the woman pilot in Kharkov. I also want to be a pilot, I wrote. I am only 23, in good health, a member of the Young Communist League. Would he please help me to learn to fly?
"Come to Sevastopol and we'll fix it up!" was the reply. I went.
"As Good as Man"
I pleaded my cause to the chief of the school so passionately, insisting that I absolutely must become a pilot and that I would defend my country no less than any man, that he smiled and suggested that I take the medical examination. All the doctors found me fit, And so there I was, a student of the flying school.
I was given a uniform and a room in the school dormitory. I cannot tell you now how difficult it was for me at first. I pored over my books morning, noon and night. So great was my desire to become an educated pilot that I grudged every moment away from my studies.
In the meantime I witnessed flights the like of which I had never before imagined. I saw a pursuit 'plane soar into the air with the speed of a rocket. The pilot's hand tossed the 'plane to the right, to the left, it revolved around its axis, it turned a complete somersault and made a long loop-the-loop. This beetle-headed machine, marvellously obedient in the air, can do astonishing manoeuvres calculated with fine mathematical accuracy. It is as elusive as a swallow, as graceful as a thrush soaring over the Ukrainian steppes.
As the 'planes would land one after another, I would gaze at the faces of the pilots emerging from the cabins. Who were these supermen who accomplished such unbelievable feats in the air? But after he descends, the pursuit 'plane pilot merges with the mass of 'flyers. His face, his walk, his smile are nothing out of the ordinary. And his story is the same as the others; a factory or a collective farm, the Young Communist League, the flying school, the Party.
Solo Flights
It was not long before I, too, began to take to the air alone. Students are not usually told when their first solo flight will be. And that was what happened in my case. One day I was returning from a training flight with the instructor. I had made a poor landing, and on that day, at least, I could not even have dreamed of flying alone. But without a word about my bad landing, the instructor turned to me and asked me whether I was tired.
"No," I said.
"Well, you're going to do a solo flight now." I could scarcely breathe at the joy and suddenness of it. But I did not betray my feelings.
"Very well, comrade instructor," I replied as calmly as I could.
I ascended. I shall never forget that moment. I was in the air alone. The instructor had remained below. I was flying by myself! I made a successful landing. I rose the second time. And again everything went well. Thus began my solo flying.
But 1 still had a long way to go before I could consider myself a mature pilot. By the end of 1932 I was graduated from the flying school and was sent to study as a military pilot.
Wing Commander
Before long I was appointed commander of a wing. In the course of my work I progressed considerably. Beside my chief job I did a great deal of social, work and helped my husband with his work and studies. I continually strove to better myself as a pilot and learned to shoot. At the same time I did not neglect my general education. I graduated at a workers' preparatory training school and prepared to enter the Military Aviation Academy. In my six years as a, pilot I did not have a single accident, or forced landing.
When I felt sufficiently confident of myself, I asked my commander for permission to make a distance flight. He thought a while and then said: would advise you to prepare for altitude flying. Do you agree?" I did.
In September, 1936, the commander summoned me and told me to make an altitude flight to test the ceiling of a 'plane.
I flew with a navigator named Bondar. We reached 30,000 feet and remained there for 19 minutes. The 'plane could have risen still higher, but I did not care to take the risk. When we landed Commander Kagan congratulated me.
"You have risen higher than any woman in the world," he said.
My husband, a wing commander, also achieved a high altitude, but I had flown higher than he, higher than any of the men in our unit. While training for this flight I ascended 23,000 feet without oxygen apparatus and felt splendid.
Records Established
In May, 1938, while preparing for a non-stop distance flight, I and my crew, Vera Lomako and Marina Raskova, established an international women's record for distance flying in a closed circuit for hydroplanes. We flew 1093 miles. And on July 2, 1938. our crew made the non-stop flight from Sevastopol to Archangel, a distance of 1707 miles, in 10 hours 33 minutes. This was registered by the air sports commission as a double all-Russian women's record: for a distance flying on a straight and on a broken line. The Government rewarded the entire crew with Orders of Lenin. Lomako and I each received the rank of captain, and navigator Raskova was promoted to senior lieutenant.
I do not intend to rest upon my laurels. I will continue to train for flights over longer distances and higher altitudes.
A women's flying squadron, consisting entirely of members of the 'weaker sex " from the commander to student pilots, has been organised in the Bataisk School of Civil Pilots in the city of Bataisk, Rostov Region. At present the school has no fewer than fifty-five fully qualified women instructors, and it is anticipated that there will be double that number by the middle of this year. Hundreds of girl graduates of the Bataisk school are now conquering by air the vast expanses of Russian territory. These young women have been airminded since early youth and consider flying not nearly so dangerous as driving a car in thick city traffic.
They work on the difficult routes of the Fair East. Siberia, Caucasus and Middle Asia. A close second to the Bataisk young women in enthusiasm are the girls who learn rifle shooting in various sniper schools throughout the Soviet Union. In many cases become more expert than the young men.
Condensed from Moscow News, Russia.
See photos here paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/new-zealand-herald/1939/04/08/27
