Chapter 346: The Battle of Poix

“Alice! Eleven o’clock to the left! Enemy infantry position! Fire!” Rein commanded loudly, having seen the enemy’s firing point in his comma

“Alice! Eleven o’clock to the left! Enemy infantry position! Fire!” Rein commanded loudly, having seen the enemy’s firing point in his commander’s panoramic periscope.

“Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat!” Without the slightest hesitation, the hull machine gun controlled by Alice began to sound. The unique cloth-ripping sound of the German “Akado’s Saw” machine gun rang out. One after another, the tracer rounds struck the French position. Several French soldiers were mangled by the machine gun fire and fell in response.

After the German army had cut the supply lines of the Anglo-French coalition forces, the armored units had begun to expand on both flanks. Rommel’s 7th Panzer Corps was heading north, beginning its charge toward Dunkirk, while Guderian’s 1st Panzer Corps was heading south and had occupied the important French town of Amiens.

To ensure the security of Amiens, the 3rd SS Panzer Division had crossed the Somme River and had launched an attack into the French heartland. Soon, the fragile defensive line of the French 10th Armoured Corps had completely collapsed. The German army had driven straight in and had actually achieved an unexpectedly large combat result.

Just a few hours ago, the vanguard of the 3rd SS Panzer Division had captured the city of Poix. And as the vanguard of the armored forces, Rein’s 1st Panzer Battalion was currently engaged in a fierce exchange of fire with the French army at a small freight railway station in the suburbs.

A French tank charged out from around a corner and fired a shot at the Tiger tank. But because of the aiming time, this shell had only landed a few meters away from the side of the Tiger. Apart from kicking up a cloud of black mud, it had done nothing else.

The Tiger tank number 113 was not a paper tiger. It was one of the most dangerous aces in the German armored forces. Andre, as the gunner, would naturally not let this pitiful French S35 tank go. He unceremoniously blew the turret off this French tank with a single shot.

This hit French tank immediately burst into flames. The raging fire blocked the German army’s line of sight, but this problem soon disappeared, because the German tank units quickly passed the wreckage of this tank.

The French soldiers at this station were resisting very stubbornly. It seemed that they had been given a death order to hold their ground here. But their own strength was simply no match for the German army. The French army, with only a small number of tanks and anti-tank guns, was in a state of continuous retreat under the attack of a large number of German tanks.

“Andre! Directly ahead, at a distance of about 900 meters, a French B1 tank is firing. Take it out!” Rein commanded loudly, seeing that Alice had already taken care of the close-range threat.

“Boom!” The powerful 88mm cannon of the Tiger tank let out a deafening roar. The shell flew straight toward the target and, in one go, pierced the frontal armor of the pitiful B1 tank, tore apart the 75mm short-barreled infantry gun on one side, and, with a torrent of flying metal, passed through the hull, instantly riddling the soldiers inside with holes.

“Target hit!” Rein shouted loudly. “Baumann, reverse and move position! Andre, port side, ten o’clock, one anti-tank gun! Traverse the turret! Bruce, load high-explosive.”

The sound of the electric motor was heard, and the turret of the Tiger began to rotate at high speed. Rein followed the rotation of the turret and continued to command loudly, “Alice, the front is on you. Suppressive fire.”

“I’m firing!” Alice’s voice came through the headset. With her words, the hull machine gun at the front of the vehicle once again spat a tongue of fire. A moving French soldier was immediately enveloped in the white smoke that splashed up on one side.

A French anti-tank shell happened to hit the frontal armor of the Tiger’s turret. It only made a crisp “clang” sound, and the shell was deflected into the sky. France’s pitiful 47mm anti-tank gun was already insufficient against the Panther, let alone against the even more heavily armored Tiger.

“I’ve got it targeted!” Andre shouted.

The retreating hull of the Tiger suddenly stopped. The good shock absorption system allowed the tank to stabilize itself with only a slight shake, and then, after a gap of less than a second, the Tiger fired again.

“Boom!” The repeatedly tempered crew of number 113 was already perfectly coordinated, almost hitting with every shot. A shell directly hit a spot less than half a meter away from the anti-tank gun, directly kicking up a large amount of mud and bursting into a dazzling flame.

The shrapnel from the high-explosive shell and the churned-up rubble and debris directly riddled the seven or eight French soldiers behind the anti-tank gun. One French soldier fell to the ground with a face full of blood, while another was left hanging motionless on the anti-tank gun.

With the explosion of this shell, the French soldiers also seemed to have lost their will to resist and began to rout on a large scale. Many French soldiers were shot by the German army’s bullets just as they were climbing out of their foxholes, and a battle instantly devolved into a slaughter.

Two French soldiers, carrying their rifles, climbed out of a foxhole and fled to the rear. Soon, a German machine gun swept over. The bullets pierced the body of one French soldier. The French soldier’s body shuddered and he fell to the ground. Blood gushed from his mouth, choking his cries.

The other French soldier turned his head and saw his comrade-in-arms fall to the ground. He quickly raised his hands, signaling that he had surrendered. But the other side’s machine gun did not pause in the slightest. A line of bullets swept across his body, piercing his lungs and heart.

“Retreat! Quick!” a French officer had just given the order to retreat to his men when he was hit in the head by the hull machine gun of the ferocious Tiger tank opposite. The bullet pierced his strange-looking steel helmet from the forehead, carrying his brains out the back and splashing on the face of the French soldier beside him.

That French soldier was scared out of his wits by the scene before him. As he was in a daze, the wide tracks of the Tiger tank had already rolled over. The huge vehicle rumbled, like a beast from ancient times, and drove past him with a terrifying aura.

Before he could come to his senses, the machine gun of another Panther tank on the side had already aimed at him. In just an instant, a few bullets had pierced his lungs, pinning his entire body to the trench. He fell to the bottom of the trench, trailing a long streak of blood, no longer breathing.

“Good shot, Alice!” Rein praised loudly. “Keep up the firing rhythm! Don’t let them realize you are reloading. Baumann, advance at a steady speed! Andre, keep a watch on the station over there. I suspect there’s another French tank there.”

“Rein calling tank 112! Marcus, cover my rear! My field of view is limited. Some French soldiers may have slipped through,” Rein said, pressing the intercom and calling Marcus, who was following behind the side of his tank.

Marcus’s voice, after a slight pause, came through the headset. “Don’t worry! I’ve got your rear. But you should at least leave a tank or something for me! I haven’t gotten a kill yet today!”

Rein’s current Tiger tank could be said to be the most unique existence in the German army. First, the shape of this tank was not the same as the Panther, which was the most equipped tank in the German armored forces. Second, on the barrel of this tank, number 113, were densely drawn its dazzling combat records.

A full five thick white lines encircled the barrel, representing that this tank had already destroyed 50 enemy tanks. And on these thick lines were also three thin lines, which meant that not counting the two French tanks it had just destroyed, this Tiger had already slaughtered 53 opponents. With such a terrifying combat record, it was not at all an exaggeration to call this Tiger a tank killer.

As this Tiger moved, an ambushing French tank did indeed appear on the side of the station. It was just that the hatch on the turret of this tank was open, and the hatch at the driver’s position was also open. The turret was pointing at a strange angle, as if it had no intention of ambushing its German opponent.

“This is Lieutenant Rein of the 1st Company, 1st Battalion. I have discovered a possibly abandoned French tank! Requesting grenadiers to go and take a look,” Rein said, placing his hand on Andre’s shoulder to signal him not to fire yet. The Tiger stopped where it was, its dark muzzle pointing at the French tank not far away.

Soon, a few German grenadiers with guns at the ready approached the French tank under the cover of the German tanks. A soldier in the lead quickly and cleanly climbed up, then looked inside and made a gesture to the distance.

“Clear! It’s an abandoned tank,” Rein said, lowering his hand from Andre’s. The Tiger’s turret slightly adjusted its position and continued to point in the direction of the greatest threat.

“Don’t shoot! We’ve surrendered!” a Frenchman shouted loudly not far away. Then a French soldier with a white flag walked out, followed by a second, a third.

The battle quickly subsided. A hundred or so French soldiers, with their hands raised, walked out from behind the train cars and from some corners not far away. They stared at the dirty-looking German tanks and at the German grenadiers who were standing by the tanks with cigarettes in their mouths and guns on their shoulders.

“Calling battalion! Calling battalion! This is Tank Company 1. We have captured this station in cooperation with the grenadiers. We have captured about 92 soldiers and three officers, including a captain,” Rein said, poking his head out of the tank’s turret and staring at the dejected Frenchmen, pressing the intercom.

“This is the battalion! You can now make camp on the spot,” the battalion commander’s voice came through the headset.

The corners of Rein’s mouth turned up. He threw down his headset and leaned against the tank’s hatch, watching the few German grenadiers with G43 rifles frisking the surrendering French soldiers not far away.

At the battalion headquarters, the battalion commander, already holding his intercom, was reporting the latest combat situation to the division headquarters. “Division, this is 1st Battalion, 1st Panzer Regiment. Two minutes ago, we completely captured Poix. That’s right. We are now the closest unit to Paris.”

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