WHAT A MISSION. Scrambled to intercept bombers up north in a group of five. We spotted them at about 2500 feet and climbed for the bottom of the cloud layer at 3000 feet, only to have four La-5s crash the party by diving right through into our formation. An absolute furball ensued in which Hptm Burger and I traded blows with the Russians. We mutually damaged one, then he shot off another's elevator while I came in for the kill from behind. I lit him but got *way* too close and ended up scorching the side of my aircraft in his fireball. I swear, I could've reached out and touched his plane. Goddamn! The ground crew was not happy with me after I returned to Anapa. Might just leave it scorched like this and save them the bother.

The furball continued, and OFw Kiefer was killed in a head-on with a rogue P-39. Shame. He'd just reached ten kills, and I liked the bastard. Hptm Burger had half his wing blown off on the way home and bailed, I was concerned but he turned up with friends in a half track a few hours later. I allegedly rewarded that driver with the spare booze I'd stashed away under the floorboards. Allegedly.