The Great Patriotic War. The IL-2 flight took off on a mission. Above the front line, they come under heavy anti-aircraft fire, one plane is damaged and forced to turn back. Two bombs are suspended on it, and landing with them is strictly prohibited, but so that civilians or his troops do not suffer, the pilot decides to drop them into the lake, near the base airfield.
At this time, in the assault aviation regiment, there is the chief of staff of the army, to which the "flyers" are subordinate. The general awarded those who distinguished themselves and sat down with the command staff at the table. Summer and covered in the open air, just off the runway. The unit was one of the best, commanded by a major - an excellent pilot himself, and everyone in the regiment hoped to be awarded the next rank. But the inspector did not bring new shoulder straps and it was felt that he had decided to test the major himself. At the table, they poured the prescribed one hundred grams and laid out simple food from the diet. After tasting a couple of spoons, the general, addressing the regiment commander:
- What, you only have concentrates from your food?
- Yes, but everyone is used to it.
- And people should be better taken care of.
- So what the business executives bring to us, then we eat, we have no place to get it.
- And there is a lake, probably full of fish. - And points to the visible water surface four hundred meters away.
- Yes, we do not have any gear for this.
- And fuck the tackle, you throw a bomb there, all the fish will come up.
- Yes, I have no free people, and there are enough other more important things to do.
The general, not used to persuading, began to lose his temper from intractability:
- Let's not argue, Major, consider this an order and proceed to execution, report to me at the end.
Hearing in response: - Yes! - He left the table, drank the poured "hundred" and, hearing the strained hum of the engine, raised his head up. An IL-2 jumped out from behind the forest on low level flight and, flying over the lake, dropped the bombs. Two huge fountains of spray rose to the sky with a crash, not yet a weak blast wave knocking off their hats, made people instinctively sit down. Raising his cap, the chief of staff, against the background of the spray hanging over the lake, saw the major walking towards him with a marching step, with his hand attached to his head. Stopping a meter away from him, the regiment commander said in a clear voice:
- Comrade General, your order has been carried out!
The general in a slightly bewildered voice: - Well done Major, well done, we drilled holes on the shoulder straps. And mumbling under his breath: - Your mother, because no one will believe. I got into my car and drove away.
And the regiment for two days, instead of American stew with biscuits, was forced to eat small, bony lake crucians.
