safer in one's boot in battle.
- In battle, yes.
According to the partisans,
the enemy's transferring
a large grouping of tanks
to our bridgehead.
This information hasn't been
confirmed yet, so off you fly,
hover above the roofs, peek into the
barrels of guns, but find the tanks.
Let me fly the trophy.
The Messer?
You may be shot down by our own.
But over there
I can fly like at home.
That's not a bad idea.
We'll warn off our people.
Feel out this forest. You'll come
in there from the enemy side.
And come out at Nekrasovka.
Only no tricks.
I know you.
No engagements,
you're not to be spotted.
May I go and carry out the mission?
- Come back alive.
- Yes.
Good luck.
Well, Ivan, let's check out
the reinforcement.
Perhaps... some tea first?
You think while we sit drinking tea,
they'll take the downed
plane off the runway?
You softy!
Turn it the hell down!
About face, damn it!
Get out of my sight!
I'm off on a mission. You're
in charge of those. Drill them.
- Me?
- Yes, you!
"I don't know, Comrade Commander. "
Catching grasshoppers.
No flights.
No vodka ration.
A permanent duty
as an airfield attendant.
Grasshopper!
- Where are you flying?
- Straight ahead, to the west.
In such weather...
Makarych, there's a persistent rumor
at Hitler's headquarters
that some Soviet aces
are given a cross before a flight by
politically-backward mechanics.
They're all weirdoes
at Hitler's headquarters.
- Start'er up!
- Yes, start'er up!
Flying in such weather!
What Jupiter allowed...
Shall we fly more today?
Enough screwing for today.
Learn the theory.
Give me your paw
for luck, my friend.
Cheer up, Grasshopper. Do your duty,
and the commander may cool off.
Be thankful for that. It could be worse.
As Shakespeare said...
- And who's that?
- Must be some big wig.
Soldier's wisdom:
Stay away from big wigs,
but closer to the kitchen. Come on.
Guys.
- Excuse me, is that the mail?
- Or maybe an army shop?
- Got lost, girls?
- Oh, look, a dog.
- Why don't you say hello, boys?
- Hello.
Let's go.
A good point. A reprimand to
everybody, comrade flyers.
- Got it.
- Follow me.
Lift it!
Come on.
Pardon me, this is men's job.
- Ivan, work.
- Yes!
Lift it!
- Where do you run the thread here?
- What thread?
This is a flying sewing
machine, isn't it?
Push it. You should've seen how
the Messers grilled us today.
Oh, you fly too?
- I'm sorry.
- It's nothing.
Our dear U-2!
A hard-working horse.
Never mind, one day
we'll put a monument to you.
Thank you.
Not at all.
- Are you from Moscow?
- Yes.
Oh, our neighbors!
First squadron, come here!
The night-timers came from
the neighboring regiment.
How was your flight?
I'm Petya, by the way.
Nice to meet you.
Good!
Greetings to you, girls-in-arms!
- What's wrong?
- A hole in the petrol pipe.
Our mechanics will fix your biplane
in a jiffy... I'm Petya, by the way.
Stay cool.
don't you believe me?
Incidentally, these are
the guests of the second squadron.
The best mechanics are here.
As is our
traditional hospitality.
So you can lay off, Vasya.
A Messer!
Calm down, it's our guy.
It's Maestro.
After hard
and exhausting battles,
when you go into a frontal attack,
when a German ace's scowling
face is in front of you,
when you can see...
rivets on the enemy planes,
we, fighters, need
an emotional let-out.
And here we're helped by music. For
everything passes, but music remains.
And as Shakespeare said
in his 18th sonnet...
Hi, boys.
Hi, girls.
What did Shakespeare say?
Well...
And not in the 18th, but...
In the 19th?
In the 19th sonnet Shakespeare said...
Lay off, Vasya.
Let's go.
Hey, orators!
Some discipline!
Why are you leaving your own home
without your superior's permission?
Where's your traditional
hospitality, fighters?
Yes, Comrade First, it's been
confirmed, we found them.
Where we supposed they were.
Yes, he sure flew over there.
- How many times?
- Four