It would take the company about ten hours to ready itself for the mission. Parachutes would be prepared, and repacked if possible. Weapons would be inspected, and special issue weapons and explosive would be carefully prepared. When jumping into action, Soviet airborne troops carried a much heavier load than the average infantryman. They were the only troops to regularly use rucksacks, since their food and bedding was not carried on vehicles as in the case of the motor rifle infantry. They carried more ammunition into combat, usually 300 rounds versus the usual 90 for motor rifle troops. For missions like this one, where tanks were likely, they carried one or two RPG-22 antitank rockets. Usually one of the six squad members carried an SVD sniper rifle, with an attachable image-intensification night sight. Each paratrooper's weapons were contained in a weapons bag. During the jump, the bag fell on a tethered line below him, hitting the ground first, which prevented the paratrooper from felling on his weapon and damaging it or injuring himself.
Parachute preparation took most of the morning and was done in one of the hangars at the nearby airfield. The An-26 transport aircraft began arriving at about 1100. To the chagrin of Captain Vinik, the jumpmaster, most were regular Aeroflot cargo aircraft without the military cargo handling equipment. For reasons of economy, civilian aircraft were absorbed by the Air Force in time of war. Although inconvenient, these were still usable for dropping the paratroop squads themselves and the weapons canisters. The three militarized An-26s would have to make do for the LuAZ jeeps. The other problem was that the Aeroflot aircraft arrived in Aeroflot livery: white upper fuselages with blue trim and unpainted aluminum wings and lower fuselages. This was completely unacceptable for clandestine operations. After a few hours of searching, Vinik found a supply of flat black paint, and Donchuk's squad was assigned to assist the ground crews in giving the aircraft a hasty paint job. It was done with few of the niceties, and no one had time for the national insignia.
The afternoon was spent preparing the weapons canisters and the load platforms for the LuAZ jeeps. The load platforms usually used retrorocket braking systems to slow the platform at the last moments before impact. But Vinik decided this would be a bad idea for a night drop: The bright blast of the retrorockets would be visible for miles in the flat terrain of the drop zones. Instead, the jeeps would be dropped from higher altitudes with a larger number of chutes. The LuAZ-967 was pretty light anyhow. By late afternoon, in a flurry of activity, the last of the Antonov transport aircraft were loaded and ready for operation.
Isakov brought his platoon together for final instructions. The drop zone was a field about two kilometers on either side, immediately to the south of the small village of Uttenkofen, and north of the hamlet of Freundorf. The airdrop would take place at about 0300, and Isakov estimated the linkup would take only about a half hour, since the whole platoon, plus the added signals team, would drop from a single aircraft. Isakov, on Major Danilov's instructions, assigned Sgt. Vladimir Konchin's 3d Squad the task of linking up with company headquarters to collect the LuAZ jeeps, mines, and other heavy equipment. These would be dropped into LZ Peru to the south of Wischlburg along with WO Yegor Kostin's 2d Platoon. In the meantime, Ivan Gudkov's 1st Squad would begin scouting forward toward the river around Stephans-posching and Uttenkofen, while Bohdan Donchuk's squad would patrol south toward the junction of Route 8 and the A92 autobahn. If the tiny hamlet of Freundorf was abandoned, Isakov decided he would use the buildings to establish the platoon's base of operations.
The platoon received a hearty meal before departure. The political officer, Aleksei Gelman, along with a couple of the members of the company headquarters, had decided to do some improvised "scouting" in the nearby Czech village. They managed to "liberate" about a dozen kilos of good Czech smoked sausages and a jeep full of other sundries, which were served up in one of the hangars where the parachute packing had taken place. The company numbered more than a hundred men, so the food didn't go far. But it was a delightful change from the wartime dry rations.
The aircraft were loaded up with troops at 0130 in the early morning of 6 October. The weather was the usual for this time of year — broken clouds, cold, and damp. As the night went on, the cloud cover broke open, and a crescent moon occasionally broke through. This would make it easier for the company to operate at night, but it would also make their jump more visible. The jump had been coordinated with army artillery, which would lay down artillery fire strikes on German positions around Metten and Bogen to keep them distracted. The An-26s were instructed to make a direct approach to the landing zones down along the Schwarzach Valley, to keep away from the artillery.
Isakov's platoon entered the aircraft from the rear ramp. Counting the added signal troops, there were twenty-five paratroopers in the cargo hold, plus three weapons canisters. The canisters would go out first, followed by Isakov, his deputy platoon leader, and the 1st Squad. The aircraft had elementary folded bench seats, since it was usually used for Aeroflot cargo runs. This was not the best arrangement, but the platoon made do. Isakov made sure that everyone was settled in position and then went up to the cockpit to chat with the crew. There was a crew of four, the pilot, copilot, radio/navigator, and shturman (loadmaster). The crew members were all reservists and older than Isakov had expected. The pilot was at least forty-five. They were all Aeroflot personnel in peacetime, but had served in the VTA (Military Transport Aviation) during their service. They had received special training for the past two days in paratroop delivery, and assured Isakov that it would be no more difficult than their usual missions, which involved flying in supplies to arctic teams in northern Russia.
The planes began lifting off at 0215, and when the last of the nine met the formation, they departed to the southwest, in a box formation, three aircraft wide and three deep. The shturman on Isakov's aircraft let him look out the small blister window on the left side of the forward fuselage. His view was a bit obscured by the NKPB-7 sight used to calculate airdrops. At first the scenery was monotonously dark and lifeless. But in a few minutes, the eerie signs of the war became evident on the horizon. The sky in front of the aircraft was lit up by illumination flares, explosions, and fires. From fifteen or twenty kilometers away, nothing was very clear. But obviously, a considerable amount of fighting was going on on the ground below. The shturman told Isakov that the drop would be in five minutes, so he returned to the cargo compartment to prepare his men. He went up to each soldier and checked to see that his parachute harness was snug and his ripcord attached to the static Une. He knew that the men had already checked this repeatedly, but it was a good opportunity to show his concern. Isakov took his place toward the rear of the fuselage.
Two minutes before the drop, the rear cargo door was lowered. The An-26 had a system to permit the cargo door to be hinged down below the aircraft to facilitate paratroop drops. The gears and servos whirred away as the door cleared. There was a rush of cold outside air into the compartment, and soon the paratroopers near the rear could see the ground below. Fighting could be seen around the town of Schwarzach. The shturman flicked on the amber warning light, meaning thirty seconds until the drop. At the green signal, Isakov and two of the other men kicked the weapons canisters free. Isakov and his deputy, Warrant Office Varakin, stood at either side of the cargo door and signaled the men to jump in waves of three in quick succession. The jump went without a hitch, and Isakov and Varakin leapt out last.
Isakov was an experienced jumper, but night drops are always frightening. It's very difficult to judge how fer you are from the ground as you are falling. There is the overwhelming fear that you may smash into the ground any second. Fortunately, on this jump, there was enough moonlight to see the ground. The view to the north had a strange sort of beauty. There appeared to be tank battles going on in the valley near Schwarzach. The northern landscape was bathed in the unnatural light of artillery illumination rounds. The ground shimmered from the frequent salvos of tank fire. Isakov could see the Danube River about a kilometer to the north. At night, its surface had a metallic sheen against the dark, colorless earth.