To be sure, Eduard’s Su-22/Su-17M3 kit is a challenge.
Parts come in self-sealing clear plastic bags, and decals, including a separate sheet of faded national markings for the Libyan aircraft, are protected by cover sheets. One of the frets of photoetched metal is pre-painted. The three packages of cast-resin parts are from Eduard’s Brassin Line. Two films are provided as lenses for the cockpit gunsight.
The 16-page instructions begin with an extensive history of this Soviet fighter-bomber. Eduard recommends checking
here for the latest color and instruction-sheet updates, but I found no updates beyond what’s in the kit.
The second page has a parts map (plastic parts are not numbered on the trees) and a Gunze Sangyo paint-color list. Pages 3-9 contain all the assembly drawings in 11 steps. Eduard uses color on the drawings to emphasize various procedures. Interior colors are noted on the drawings.
Because the drawings show parts for five different versions, they are complex and somewhat confusing. I found myself removing parts that I had installed before realizing they were for a different model than the one I was building.
The colorful decals (for two Su-22s and 3 Su-17s) are printed by Cartograf. All 518 decal images are of excellent quality, and they are faultless in application.
I chose the Libyan version for its connection to the U.S. (two Fitters were shot down by U.S. Navy F-14s in the Aug. 19, 1981, over the Gulf of Sidra). It took discipline to follow only the assembly instructions for Version B.
Extensive use of photoetched-metal and cast-resin parts yields an attractive cockpit. However, the cockpit also is where the most serious flaws in the kit occur. There is not enough room between the control column and the aft bulkhead. I had to remove much of the detail on the back of the seat to slide it down the bulkhead rails — and when I forced it down, the front of the seat was damaged by the control column. Even after the aft bulkhead is properly located in the fuselage, and tight as it can be, it is so tall that a closed canopy will not fit.
Parts fit was good throughout the remainder of the assembly, but many pieces seem to have rounded mating edges. I used a lot of glazing compound to fill joins.
Part 74, the aft nose-gear brace, dropped through a hole at the back of the nose-gear well and is still in there, rattling around. My carpet ate Part PE 11, one of the parts for the seat harness. The seat placards were too small to handle, and I managed to install just two of the photoetched-metal fins on the nose probe. The instrument panel is excellent and is one of the best parts of the cockpit, but the instrument probes mounted on the nose will slant down at about a 30-degree angle if left unmodified.
The paint masks fit perfectly. A chart for ordnance placement is provided on Page 8, but doesn’t say which aircraft carried what equipment.
There are five pages of four-view drawings of colors and markings. Obviously, not all 518 decal images are used; my Libyan Fitter received 83 decals. I applied the two faded national insignia to the upper wing surfaces.
I used out-of-production Floquil Military enamels for the four-color camouflage. The decals were thin enough to fold under the backing paper during transfer to the model, but tough enough to use a tweezers to position them without breakage. Slight silvering disappeared with a light application of Micro Set.
At 150 hours, I was still working on painting and decaling the ordnance supplied in the kit. Eduard’s kit may be a bit more than beginning modelers will want to try, but those who have previously tackled a couple of limited-production kits and can pay a great deal of attention to detail will enjoy this build and obtain a fine replica of this historic aircraft. The finished model, with wings extended or retracted, measures very closely to specifications I found on the Internet.