A few days ago I finished reading the war diary of Helmut Lipfert, which I really enjoyed. In one of the chapters you can fin a combat aganst a Yak-3 (I guess it could also have been a Yak-9U). It took place over the Gran bridgehead (Hungary) in January 1945. He was probably flying a Bf 109 G-10/14
At about the same time I made acquaintance of the new Yak. This latest Russian fighter was somewhat superior to us in speed and maneouvrability, it's armament was equal to ours, and only in the dive did our machines prove to be superior. Our new meeting with the new Yak almost ended badly: Prokoph and I were inside friendly territory and suspecting nothing untoward. It was my custom in the air never to fly straight and level. Not only did I continually change direction, but altitude as well. As a result many wingmen didn't like flying with me. But thanks to this constant remaining in motion it was impossible for the enemy to sneak up unnoticed. Prokoph was the best wingman of all for this type of flying.*
So it was that I noticed a lone Yak approaching from behind. We were low on fuel and therefore didn't want to get involved in combat. The Russian appeared to have other ideas. Although we were flying at maximum speed he drew even nearer and finally forced us to start turning. We escaped the first attack only by breaking away suddenly. The Ivan pulled up and away and then came down again behind Prokoph. At first I flew around the circle and tried to get *on the enemy's tail, but that was out of the question. By no we were turning at full throttle near ground level. The Russian took his time and repeatedly pulled up out of the turn., dropped down again, allowed for deflection and fired.
When he began to fire I issued corrections to Prokoph. who listened to my words and inmediately did as instructed. mMy wingman was hit several times, but he followed my instructions precisely and so avoided being shot down. This was too much for me. "Keep turning" , I called to Prokoph, and tightly as possible! I'm going to climb above the Russian and come down from above to help you.
Prokoph's aircraft was hit several more times in the tail. If I hadn't been so furious, I would have had to admire the Russian for the way he repeatedly sheared upward, dropped down into the circle from above and only fired when he had allowed adequate deflection. Prokoph didn't whine and cry for help, rather he turned for his life. Then I was in a position to come down from above. "Straighten out, Prokoph!".
The Russian machine straightened out almost simultaneously and I fired a fraction of a second before the enemy pilot. My full burst hit him just as he opened fire, causing him to break away and turn around. I had hit him well, but he had nevertheless scored several more hits on Prokoph. I now moved in behind the Russian, who swung gently back and forth in front of me so all I could do was spray bullets instead of aiming precisely. In spite oh his black smoe trail he pulled away and steadily increased the range between us. I might still have been able to catch him, but our fuel was must gone. I had no choice but to turn away.
There was no deniying that I was impressed with this Russian type. The new Yak appeared to me a far more dangerous adversary than the Mustang.
Prokoph, whom I had inmediately sent home, had already landed when I returned. "Now then, Herr Hauptmann", he greeted me, "we'ill want to get our own back for that!"
Our chance was not long in coming. There now seemed to be nothing but these new Yaks -which we designated the Yak-3- over the Gran bridgehead. It was well that we had met them before. Most of our comrades didn't want to believe our reports and had to learn the hard way. We had a running series of bail-outs.
Pag 158-159
