Official Version
Suspecting enemy infiltration onto our base, I seized the initiative and performed an unscheduled low-level reconnaissance of the area directly to the left of our main runway.
I immediately noticed that the grass in this area is high.
Unable to see well through the tall grass, I invented a technique for probing the topography under this grass by direct contact with my landing gear, feeling the contours much as a blind person might read braille, or a lover might, errr, ummm... Well, in any case, I'd like to think this may come to be called "Tushka's Technique" if it is adopted by the VVS.
Using this technique I made several discoveries. First, the propeller of a CR-42 is an effective weed-cutter. Second, there is a system of deep trenches and high defensive earthworks near our main runway large enough to hide an army. Third, the landing gear of a CR-42 is inadequate for the task of reading the topographic equivalent of a braille full stop. Fourth, the propeller of a CR-42 is ineffective as an earthworks leveling tool.
Unfortunately, the inadequacies of the CR-42 which I uncovered in the process of this reconnaissance prevented me from rejoining with wingleader Kolya to continue the planned mission. Instead, I was forced to abandon my aircraft and walk back to the ready room, where I am writing this report.
My recommendations to the base administration are as follows:
* The tall grass should be cleared immediately. Suitable order and implements should be issued to the groundkeepers.
* The earthworks should be leveled and the trenches filled in. Suitable orders and implements should be issued to the groundkeepers.
* A request for reinforced landing gear and propellers for our CR-42s should be sent to headquarters.
* Adequate signage warning of off-runway hazards should be posted where pilots can see it immediately before taking off.
Signed: Kadet Tushka
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Unofficial Version (told in the enlisted men's mess):
How do you people manage to party every night, and why am I always the first one to pass out?
As we lined up on the runway, I was regretting not bringing my snow goggles, and I was wondering if the engine was always so annoyingly loud. Then, after the dust from wingleader Kolya's aircraft had begun to thin, I began my takeoff run. The vibrations bothered my bladder, and I realized that I had forgotten to check the location of the relief tube. Apparently while I was searching in the cockpit the runway took a sharp turn to the right. I and my aircraft, as a matter of simple physics, continued in a straight line into the area to the left of the runway which was covered by tall grass. Very tall grass. It was perhaps as high as an elephant's eye!
Well, I wasn't worried at this point, because I was used to taking off from grass airstrips. Unfortunately my thoughts of smoothly rolling across this grass were interrupted by bone-rattling bumps and loud cracking and tearing noises from beneath my aircraft. This was followed by the shredding of my propeller which, in turn, led to a paradoxical increase in engine speed but a reduction in forward velocity. Once it became obvious that the engine was developing inadequate power despite its high rpms... we had come to a halt by this point... I shut it down. This led to a temporary feeling of great relief as the engine noise subsided to be replaced by the ticking of cooling metal. I then realized that there was a reason for that feeling of great relief that was unrelated to my headache. I regretted not finding the relief tube in time. But at least I missed the elephant!
In any case, I will admit to you that this incident was caused by pilot error. I should have included verifying the location of the relief tube in my preflight checklist, and I will add an examination of the map of the local runway system to that checklist so that next time I will not be surprised by any mid-field chicanes. But I won't admit any of that to the officers, of course.
Still, I have cause to celebrate. I survived my first Scorched Earth Online War mission.
The next round is on me.
Za Rodinu!
