The following story is based on the experience of Leszek Adam Szychowski, a Sergeant in the Polish Air Force, 103^rd Transport Regiment during the Cold War. Mr. Szychowski served in the military from late 1975 until early 1978 as a flight engineer, and was a conscript. Mr. Szychowski lived in Warsaw, Poland, before he was called to duty, and now lives in Collinsville with his family. While in Poland, the government censored his writings, and put him on a wanted list. He left Poland so that he could freely voice his opinion, and so that he could be free.

Fly and Go Seek

The lumbering giant jounced erratically as it stumbled through the thick clouds. Leszek knew that flying something as big as an AN-12 in this kind of weather was not at all practical. He could almost make out the individual sound of each of the plane’s four huge engines. Leszek sat directly behind Captain Tomczyk, the pilot, and Lieutenant Rys, copilot. Out of the cockpit window, and over the shoulders of his fellow comrades, he could see the small mountain pass through which the plane would shortly have to maneuver.

The transport was just south of Krakow, in southern Poland. It was in the latter half of the 70’s, and Krakow boasted the third largest population in Poland. But the airfield at which they would be landing did not convey this fact at all. The airfield seemed as old as the city itself. It was small, deprived, and poorly maintained. It had a reputation for creating ‘rough’ landings, even on good days.

As the AN-12 neared the mountains, rain, sleet, and hail pummeled the exterior. The sky lit up briefly to the north, then moments later, to the east. The lightning allowed for momentary glimpses of the surrounding area. The mountains were now only a stone’s throw away.

Short spurts of swearing filled the cockpit, then silence. All the lights went off; this would be a dead-stick landing. This was a wartime procedure and was strictly enforced. Nobody really needed to say a thing; the fear was mutual. They were landing in the dark, and that was all there was to it. No complaints. No arguing.

Leszek checked the dials and noticed that the temperature of the engines was rising fast. His stomach seemed to float into his chest as the plane dropped altitude quickly and without warning. There was nothing that could be done about the up and down drafts, which were not at all predictable and could be extremely hazardous if the pilot overcompensated one way or the other. A small chuckle arose out of Leszek as he imagined the fireworks display the plane would make if it crashed. It was not a light load they were carrying. Tons of ammunition filled the cargo bay, along with a unit of ten infantrymen, who, oddly, happened to be sleeping through the whole ordeal.

There was no turning back now. It was all or nothing; the Polish Air Force did not have time for children. It would have been bad if the plane crashed in flames, but aborting the landing would have been worse. If they pulled up now, they would crash into the mountainside in front of them. Nobody respected cowards and anything that even hinted at fear or indecision would have been punished severely.

“A hundred eighty knots. A little fast,” the captain said nervously as they descended through a never-ending blanket of cloud and mist. Leszek’s time in the service was not supposed to be like this; this was supposed to be a cushy unit. All Leszek wanted to do was serve his mandatory time and get out, fast. This was ridiculous! He was not some silly grunt meant to live out his life in a military unit, content with living under the shadow of a ‘bigger brother.’ He had greater things ahead of him, and this landing was not helping any.

One blotch of light passed, then another, and another. “Here we are,” the copilot murmured, “Hold on!” The runway was lit, but by the time they noticed the beacons, it was too late to make any changes anyway. With a loud screech, the overloaded AN-12 touched down. The bowels of the plane shifted uneasily. The potholes in the runway acted as ramps, momentarily sending the airplane airborne again, only for it to fall oafishly back to earth. The ride came to an abrupt stop as the brakes kicked in. Prayers of all sorts filled the cabin. The three men looked at each other, nodded, and light-footedly headed towards the exit. They had found their mark.