It was a misty, humid day in the year of 1943, in the month of July, and above the land of Ukraine bordered by Russia, there's a battalion of planes on patrol.
Several Soviet planes were in formation, escorting a reconnaissance plane that was taking photos of German positions near Kharkov.
Much of the attention was further north near Kursk as the Germans were preparing their summer offensive against the Soviet salient in a desperate bid to turn back the momentum of the Eastern front after the winter disasters of Stalingrad and the Don River.
The Soviets knew Kursk would be the target and had been digging in for months to prepare for the offensive to crush the salient. STAVKA, the Soviet high command, was preparing plans for a counterattack once the German offensive could be broken, and the Ukrainian city of Kharkov would be the major prize of the forces in the southern part of the salient.
The four fighters kept close to their escort. Failure could result in brutal punishment by their commanders or the party commissars back at base.
The first plane flier replied, "Keep your eyes open. The mist's getting heavy.", and the other fliers responded, "Aye, sir!".
The reconnaissance flier responded, "Another five minutes with the photos, and then we're done. Boys are getting nervous about the mist.".
"You worry too much, the Luftwaffe's mostly absent from this area, they're further north.", one of the wingmen chuckled.
"Watch what you say there, four, or you'll be the first to be bounced by a 109.", the flights leader said as the reconnaissance plane waved their wings.
"Okay, this is as best as we're getting with the photos, the squadron will probably have to send another flight later for clearer pictures.".
The four fighters were about to turn around, staying close to the reconnaissance plane when suddenly, a hand, but not just a hand, but a giant freaking hand, was slapping one of the fighters in the rear.
The flight leader heard shouts in his headset, "Plane hit! Plane hit!", and he turned around for a better look, "One of you, stay close to our escort! Others, come with me!", keeping his eyes open as he saw the first plane shaking in smoke yet struggling to keep up in the air.
"I can't get a response!", the damaged plane called out as flight leader and his escort swung back around to the direction of their attacker.
"Three, try to get it back home. Four, you cover our comrades. Two, stay close, we're going for it!", the flight leader barked his orders as the remaining planes tried to regain the situation.
The planes tried to keep their eyes open, but like the flight leader said earlier, the mist is getting heavy, and it's getting more harder to see anything, and suddenly, giant hands appeared, slapping and hitting the two planes.
"What the fuck?! Did anyone see that?!", the flight leader shouted, and 2 shouted, "Yeah! If I wasn't somber, I would have sworn that I was drinking because I saw giant hands!".
Then the giant hands came back, and the wingmen shouted in surprise as they tried to dodge and fly around, and then the mist became even more clearer as the hands parted the mist away, and 2 widened his eyes, "Sarge, are you seeing what I am seeing?!".
"If you think you're seeing a giant blonde woman in a white tank top and army suspenders and looking very angry with us... you're not imagining it."
The flight leader said as the two of them moved to dodge another swipe the giantess was sending their way. The second plane with its damage was unable to maneuver as well and was smashed out of the sky; killing the pilot instantly.
4 shouted, "Three is down. I repeat, Three is down!", and 2 widened his eyes, "Sarge, we gotta go before she kills us!".
The flight leader growled in frustration, realizing that if the giantess kept swiping at them, they couldn't manage to shoot at her with their plane guns successfully, "Retreat, retreat! 4, tell recon to take pictures! Base needs to know this!".
"You don't need to order him! We're taking them ourselves!", the recon pilot shouted out. "Our damn bombardier practically ripped the camera from its fixed position so we could get the shots!"
"Just take them, comrade, and then get out of here!", the flight leader ordered before he dodged another swipe.
"Sarge, behind you!", the pilot of Number 2 shouted out before the flight leader realized the other hand was right on top of him and crushed his plane in her hand.
2 shouted, "Sarge!", with horror, and screamed, "RETREAT!", and 4 shouted, "Aye! Recon, keep taping and fly away!".
The recon pilot grunted, turning around, increasing the speed by pushing the plane lever, hearing his other comrade shout in surprise as he latched to a seat, holding tight to a net while taping, unknowing that he narrowly escaped the reach limit of the giantess as she then karate-chopped Number 2 while crushing Number 4 in her other hand, leaving her, standing alone with remains in her hands, looking furious and powerful as she stared after the recon plane as it successfully got away, heading for base.
Despite her single-minded rage, she was still somewhat cognitive to remember her orders and allowed the plane to get away rather than peruse.
It mattered little if the pilots returned to tell what they saw... in the next few days, the Red Army and soon, the world would learn of her.
-2 months later-
It's now the first week of September, on a warm day, somewhere in Virginia, an American Colonel was making his way to the office of a Dr. Abraham Erskine in one of the army bases.
A knock, and a voice replied, "Come in.", and the Colonel came in, and Dr. Abraham Erskine looked up from his papers on his desk, "Ah, Colonel Phillips. Afternoon, what can I do for you?".
Colonel Phillips closed the door, and scowled, "I know you saw the grenade trick. Why Rogers?
Someone else would be freaking better than him for tomorrow to take the fusion of the Quantonium and the Super Soldier serum!".