AH: Describe a typical ‘day’s work’ for a Soviet fighter pilot. How many sorties did you normally fly per day?

Kozhedub: The phrase ‘day’s work’ does not fit in here, for we had to fly all day long. I myself was surprised at the potential endurance of the human body in an emergency. Three to four sorties a day during an offensive was quite routine. True, one sortie would be very different from the next.

AH: Your first success was over Kursk on July 6, 1943. What were the circumstances of that victory’?

Kozhedub: We were ordered to attack a group of Junkers Ju-87 dive bombers. I chose a ‘victim’ and came in quite close to it. The main thing was to fire in time. Everything happened in a twinkling. It was only on the ground, among my friends, that I recalled the details of this battle. Caution is all-important and you have to turn your head 360 degrees all the time. The victory belonged to those who knew their planes and weapons inside out and had the initiative. On July 7, I downed a second plane and, on July 8, I destroyed another two Bf-109 fighters.

AH: The Battle of Kursk involved thousands of aircraft in a mammoth struggle for tactical control over the battlefield. What role did you and your comrades play toward the Soviet victory?

Kozhedub: In actual fact, I had my true baptism of fire near Kursk. We escorted bombers, fought enemy fighters and neutralized air defense batteries. The battle for Kursk was a landmark in the development of the forms and methods for operational and tactical use of Soviet aviation in the war years. In its first defensive stage, our airmen flew 70,219 sorties. Tactical aviation accounted for 76 percent of the total, long-range aviation for 18 percent, and air defense fighters for six percent. During that period, they destroyed 1,500 enemy planes. Our losses were 1,000 aircraft. During the counteroffensive, our flyers made 90,000 sorties, about 50 percent of which were designed to support attacking troops, and 31 percent to achieve supremacy in the air. The enemy lost up to 2,200 planes in that time.

AH: To what do you attribute your growing success thereafter?

Kozhedub: Young pilots often ask how they can learn to fly a fighter quickly; I came to the conclusion that the main thing is to master the technique of pilotage and firing. If a fighter pilot can control his plane automatically, he can correctly carry out a maneuver, quickly approach an enemy, aim at his plane precisely and destroy him. It is also important to be resourceful in any situation. At the first stage of combat skill, I dreamt of downing an enemy plane–the tactics of an air battle were theory to me. The second stage began with the training at the front before the Battle of Kursk. The fighting near the Kursk bulge was a new stage. The battle for the Dnieper was yet another.

Having become the commander of a squadron, I began to lead groups of planes and direct the actions of pilots during combat. The next stage was called lone-wolf operations. Being deputy commander of the regiment from the 1st Belorussian Front, I flew together with another pilot to the front lines in search of targets. There were many more stages like these. It is never too late to learn.

AH: On May 2, 1944, you received an La-5FN specially dedicated ‘In the name of Hero of the Soviet Union Lt.Col. N. Koniyev.’ You allegedly scored eight victories in seven days flying this aircraft. How much of an improvement over the La-5 was that La-5FN?

Kozhedub: It was, practically speaking, a simplified version of the La-5 developed in the same year, 1942. It had a boosted engine with direct fuel injection But it was important to me for different reasons. Vasily Koniyev, a beekeeper from the Bolshevik collective farm (Budarin district, Stalingrad region), bought it with his own money and asked that it be named after the nephew of the famous Marshal Vasily Konev, killed at the beginning of the war. Indeed, this plane was a lucky one for me. Out of the eight Nazi aircraft I destroyed while flying it, five were the much-vaunted Fw-190s.

AH: In July 1944, you were posted to the 1st Belorussian Front as vice commander to the 176th Guards Fighter Regiment, and received La-7 No. 27, in which you would score your final 17 victories. What were your command responsibilities; did they effect your flying habits?

Kozhedub: At first, I was upset by my new appointment but only until I found out that I could fly with aces who went on lone-wolf operations. Day in and day out, we would fly in the morning and analyze our sorties back at the squadrons at noon. At 9 p.m., we used to gather in the canteen, where the commander gave an account of the results of the day. In this regiment, I also began to team up with Dmitry Titarenko.

The 176th Guards Fighter Regiment carried out 9,450 combat missions, of which 4,016 were lone-wolf operations; it conducted 750 air battles, in which 389 enemy aircraft were shot down.

AH: How did the La-7 compare with its La-5-series predecessors?

Kozhedub: The La-7 had top-notch flying characteristics. It was a very obedient plane, which attained a high speed by the standards of those days. I must say that the La-7, the La-9 and Yak-3 were perfect planes. Their characteristics virtually reached the ceiling for piston-engine planes.

AH: For a wooden airplane, La-7 No. 27 must have been a sturdy and reliable airplane to serve you faithfully over 10 months of combat. What was the key to the robustness of these aircraft?

Kozhedub: The Lavochkins were simple, reliable aircraft. I met with their designer, Semyon Lavochkin, and visited plants where they were built. He always listened attentively to all remarks. The margin of safety was so great that, while pursuing the enemy, I exceeded the estimated loads without thinking twice. I was certain that the plane wouldn’t let me down. I reached speeds of 700 kilometers per hour (434 mph) and even more on it. The La-7 was an upgraded version of the quite good La-5FN, which had the M-82FN engine. Lavochkin modified the design of the airfoil, changed the locations of the aircooling intakes, and upgraded the design of the central part of the wings.AH: What were the circumstances of your success over the Me-262?

Kozhedub: On February 19, 1945, 1 was on a lone-wolf operation together with Dmitry Titorenko to the north of Frankfurt. I noticed a plane at an altitude of 350 meters (2,170 feet). It was flying along the Oder at a speed that was marginal for my plane. I made a quick about-face and started pursuing it at full throttle, coming down so as to approach it from under the ‘belly.’ My wingman opened fire, and the Me-262 (which was a jet, as I had already realized) began turning left, over to my side, losing speed in the process. That was the end of it. I would never have overtaken it if it had flown in a straight line. The main thing was to attack enemy planes during turns, ascents or descents, and not to lose precious seconds.

AH: What of your last combat, with Lieutenant Titorenko on April 19, 1945?

Kozhedub: On the evening of April 17, we went on a lone-wolf operation over the suburbs of Berlin. All of a sudden we saw a group of 40 Fw-190s with bomb loads, flying at an altitude of 3,500 meters in our direction. We climbed to the left and flew behind them under the cover of clouds. The odds were obviously not in our favor, but we still decided to attack since the enemy aircraft were heading for our troops. At maximum speed, we approached the tail of the formation, out of the sun. I opened fire almost point-blank at the wingman of the last pair of aircraft. The first Fw-190 fell into the suburbs of the city. Several planes turned to the west, while others continued their flight.

We decided to drive a wedge into the combat formation and break it up. Making a steep dive, we swept past enemy planes. As often happened in such cases, the Nazis thought that there were a lot of us. Confused, they started jettisoning bombs. Then they formed a defensive circle–each fighter covering the tail of the one in front of him–and began to attack us. Titorenko skillfully downed the plane that followed me. At that point, we saw our fighters and we turned for home. But suddenly, we saw yet another Fw-190 with a bomb. Apparently, the pilot had received a warning, for he made a quick dive and jettisoned his bomb over the suburbs of Berlin. But I still reached him on the recovery from his dive. The plane literally burst in the air. We made a good landing but our fuel tanks were completely empty. After that battle, I brought my personal score of downed Nazi planes to a total of 62.

AH: What were the highlights of your career in the VVS after August 18, 1945, when you were awarded your third Gold Star?

Kozhedub: After graduating from the Academy, I occupied several different high posts. But I always considered the training of young pilots my chief responsibility. It gave me a kind of satisfaction that could possibly only compare with one more gold star.

AH: Have you any comment on the present state of the art of Soviet aviation, military or civil?

Kozhedub: The Air Force is equipped with powerful and reliable aircraft, and a new generation of airliners is coming to civil aviation. That is beyond doubt. But still the main role is played by the person who is in charge of this perfect hardware–the pilot.

AH: In retrospect, which did you consider the better Soviet fighter design–the La-5 series or the Yak9 series?

Kozhedub: I always preferred the La-5s and always considered them the best ones. When I was a bit younger, I often went to Monino, about 25 miles northeast of Moscow, where my La-7 is on display at the National Air Museum. I would sit in its cabin, and life would seem more cheerful. For me, it is the time machine that takes me back to my youth, to the formidable ’40s.

AH: What do you consider to have been the best fighter airplane–regardless of nationality–of World War II?

Kozhedub: The La-7. I hope you understand why.

AH: As a flier, if you had a choice of any airplane in the world, old or new, which one would you most like to fly?

Kozhedub: My choice is the Buran–the Soviet space shuttle. I don’t know a better plane. This wonder plane was developed in the last decade, literally before my very eyes. Aviation is said to be the cradle of cosmonautics, and with good reason.

AH: Have you any final comments?

Kozhedub: Yes. I’m glad that perestroika in my country is paving the road to a time when all threatening combat hardware will be stored in the Monino museum.

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