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The control forces were notably reduced with undercarriage and flaps down and the landing was a bit shaky, but the wide undercarriage helped, and I was quite contented with my smooth three-point landing. When taxiing to a halt, however, trying to help with the pneumatic brake lever on the control column, I noted that the compressed air pressure had run down. There was a pressure gauge in the cockpit, but, of course, I did not know the correct values, and so I had to taxi with utmost care. What was more important: I had been graciously accepted without being fired at; perhaps I had even been properly announced. The lack of compressed air was by no means just a flaw, because not only the brakes but also the undercarriage, flaps and the radiator gills were pneumatically operated. Something had to be done about it. My luck held at the workshop, and as we started the engine, the soap suds we had put along the air pipe system formed some lovely bubbles at a cap nut. So the damage was not serious and could be repaired by cutting a new gasket and tightening the nut. But even these minor repairs meant that there was not enough time left that afternoon to continue the flight; after all, it was January. I was relieved that the compressor had not suffered any damage because repairing or even replacing would have been a time-consuming business.
The next day, it was again the thirteenth (of January), the weather was beastly. It was snowing and there could be no question of taking off, but the weathermen dangled hopes before my eyes for the afternoon. The Yak-3 had no blind-flying. instruments, though, and I had to get down somewhere and be able to know my position, too, As it happened, the meteorologists’ prophesy even came true, and so I got ready. Much to my surprise, the air pressure in the system was right, too, and at 1527 hrs I opened the throttle again, taking care that the Yak-3 did not swing during take-Off. Although the flight was properly announced, I carried the signal pistol with the identification ammunition as well. I glanced frequently at the manometer, but the pressure seemed to remain constant. The weather too improved a little as I got further west, and so I ventured a little higher to make some initial tests regarding the stability in the elevator and rudder controls — I was not tired enough of life to test the Yak at slow speed and low level. The short winter day was getting near the end, it grew misty again and I was glad after a 45-minute flight to spot Lake Müritz with the Rechlin airfield on its south end. Even when I extended the undercarriage and flaps the air pressure remained constant, which was reassuring. Soon afterwards I placed the Russian bird smoothly on the grass, and with compressed air power on hand the taxiing in wavy lines was not too difficult either. The pneumatic brake reacted on one wheel following the corresponding rudder movement, and on both wheels in central rudder position. As a result of my experience with the noisy La-5 I had plugged my ears with cotton wool under my flying helmet for this flight. The engine of the Yak, which was not exactly quiet either, had therefore not deafened me as much as that of the La-5, and so I was able to answer the questions my colleagues were bombarding me with. As usual, the aircraft was taken into the workshop hangar for inspection by various experts. General interest was roused by the excellently finished plywood wing surface. It created minimum friction and also offered the advantage of easy repair even on front-line airfields with makeshift facilities.
Before I was able to think of the first test flights, I received the news that Reichsmarschall Goring wished to see the aircraft at Oranienburg near Berlin, and I was to fly it there the next day. The morning arrived with snow and low clouds
reaching down to the tree tops in some areas and I wanted to decide from what I could see myself whether or not it was possible to fly. I finally got my way and was cleared for Oranienburg by the air-traffic control, but the weather was really very bad and I had a hard time with the fast and sensitive aircraft not to lose sight of the railway line to Neustrelitz which I was following to start with. There was no other way of getting to Oranienburg in this poor visibility. Before I had reached Neustrelitz where I had to ‘change’ to the railway line to Berlin, I plunged into the cloud layer reaching down to the trees in several places. I really would have liked to get through to Oranienburg, but at last reason prevailed; it would have been irresponsible to go on under the circumstances. The inspection had to take place without the Yak, I could not help it. I started looking for a piece of land without woods and low cloud cover in order to get my machine on opposite course. It did go off well, as often practiced, but I had the impression that on this flight at least I had reached the limits of what one could risk; after all, this was only my third flight with the sensitive Russian bird! I found my way back to Rechlin all right and after a 25-minute flight landed on the airfield. All flying operations had already been suspended for ‘lack of weather’ and my colleagues were surprised to see a lonely fighter still hanging around in the air. However, soon afterwards the meteorologists held out hopes to me again. Not only did they forecast that the weather would improve - it could not get worse, anyway - but they said that this would happen very soon, and I had my Russian bird refueled in order to be prepared just in case.
Two hours later I had another go and got through to Oranienburg.
The inspection had started already, and everyone was pleased that my attractive aircraft was now available as well. I put on my best service uniform with holstered pistol on the belt, took on a generally more military air and planted myself beside the Yak-3.
I thought it quite interesting to witness this to-do for once. Soon the swarm around the marshal drew nearer. I saluted smartly, as I had learnt during my military training but rarely needed to as Fliegerhauptingenieur, and made my report. Goring looked at me in a kindly way with his blue eyes. Everything seemed a bit theatrical.
I noticed his hectically flushed cheeks and his soft Russian leather boots of the same colour. My reply to his questions regarding the Yak-3 was that performance measurement tests had not been made yet, but due to the extremely light weight of
the aircraft combined with the high aerodynamic quality and available engine power, excellent climb and superior low-level dog-fighting performance might be expected compared to our Bf 109 and FW 190 fighters. All this was based on simple physical laws, which were obvious to anybody with the slightest technical background; also, one could not overlook that the aerodynamic design of the Yak was excellent. I said as much but I could not fail to notice that the inferiority of the
aircraft above medium altitudes as a result of the poor altitude performance of its engine fitted the bill somewhat better. It was all a bit odd, being there and accounting to the highly praised and, a little later all the more abused Reichs-
marschall Hermann Goring about the latest Soviet fighter which I had just flown, Apparently, they did not intend to go into any technical details. It was clear to me that Goring’s rights were already curtailed at that time and that he was being
bypassed. I certainly did not want to be in his shoes.
And so the swarm of people, whose individual faces now escape my memory, marched on. Sic transit gloria mundi. As by then it was too late to fly home I sat down in the mess with a few pals from ‘Zirkus Rosarius’ and passed the time in friendly discussions. Apart from their ‘organising’ of captured aircraft for their own purposes before we could test them, we got on quite well with one another. I was able to promise them that they could have the La-5FN as soon as the test flights were completed. When I returned to Rechlin with the Yak the following day, I felt at home in it already. It was then that I really appreciated how pleasant it was to fly this fighter in good weather conditions.
Our work at Rechlin became more and more difficult and hopeless as the military situation deteriorated. Many colleagues had already been taken away and impressed into paratroop or infantry units by a specially appointed general nicknamed the ‘hero pincher’ (in analogy to a black goblin called the ‘coal pincher’ which had been invented for the purpose of reminding people to save fuel during the war). Only the most urgent test- and evaluation programmes could still be carried through because fuel was getting scarcer, too. In addition to the still outstanding flights with captured aircraft I also participated in the work on the Messerschmitt Me 262 jet fighter, about which more later. The performance evaluation tests with the Soviet fighters presented some problems in so far as they were mainly high-altitude flights which could only be made in good weather, rare in January. And on the few days when the weather was suitable the sky over Germany was crowded with many strange aircraft which rendered performance measurement flights, particularly with captured aircraft, impossible. It also happened, of course, that on days which would have permitted flying activities, take-offs had to be cancelled as a result of minor defects in the aircraft.