Chapter 427: Not Easy

“Fire!” Michael Wittmann saw the British tank gradually become clear through the rain in his commander’s periscope. It was an American M3 tank, the standard model without the upgraded 75mm cannon in the front.

Boom! The Tiger tank’s 88mm long-barreled cannon let out a roar. The shell tore through the air, the shockwave causing the rain to part, as if cutting a straight line through the downpour as it flew directly towards its target.

On the other side, the lead elements of the British 2nd Armoured Division, striking between Bungay and Lowestoft, had no idea that they had just blundered into the defensive positions of the 1st Teaching Company of the 502nd Heavy Tank Destroyer Battalion.

The driver of a modified M3 Lee tank was maneuvering his vehicle up a slope. Beside him, the M3 tank serving as the company commander’s vehicle had already crested the hill.

“Hey, Skipper, we thought we’d find the Jerries in that little town up ahead, but it seems they’ve abandoned it and retreated,” a British tank commander said into his headset, chatting with his superior.

BOOM! The earth-shattering explosion was clearly audible even through the tank’s armor and the headset. The tank commander who heard it immediately threw open his hatch and stuck his head out, trying to see what had just happened.

In the heavy rain, he saw his commander’s tank, which had been slightly ahead of his own, explode into a ball of fire. Even in the downpour, it burned and exploded violently, a chilling sight to behold.

“Three-Tango! Three-Tango! I can’t see what happened, the Skipper’s tank exploded! Which direction did the attack come from? Your left, is there an ambush on your left?” the British commander yelled into his headset, trying to confirm the situation with his comrade on the other flank.

“No enemy sighted on my side! I repeat, no enemy sighted! Damn it!” This armored company had a total of six tanks: two modified M3 Lees and four standard M3s. Only half of them had headsets and radios; the other half had not been fitted with this vital equipment.

So, after the commander’s tank was destroyed, the surviving officer could only contact the one other friendly tank that had a radio. “Careful on the slope! The enemy might be in the town on the other side of the road! I can’t see them! But they can see us!”

“God! Send the infantry up! Halt! Halt!” the commander of the other tank shouted into his microphone. But two tanks, having no radios, continued to charge up the slope, exposing themselves to the German guns.

Boom! Another tank was hit by a shell. The entire hull was penetrated, spewing a torrent of molten metal. It then sat there motionless, as if its soul had departed.

“Armand! Reverse!” the British officer, half his body out of the hatch, shouted a warning to his comrade. But it was clearly too late. The M3 tank had just stopped and was preparing to reverse when it was struck by an armor-piercing shell.

A flame shot out of the turret. The driver threw open his hatch, leaped from his tank, and scrambled back towards his own lines.

“Halt! Stop if you don’t want to die! Don’t go over the slope! The enemy is in the village opposite! At least one tank! At least one tank!” the British tank commander yelled into his headset. “What the hell were those idiots in reconnaissance thinking? We’re under attack!”

“Signal the battalion HQ! Organize an attack!” The infantry commander seemed more experienced. He and a few of his men quickly climbed the slope, dropped to the ground, and carefully observed the situation opposite them with binoculars. He then returned to the halted tanks.

He pointed towards the small village and began to brief the tank commanders on the situation. “They are well-concealed. I can’t see the machine-gun positions, nor have I spotted the enemy tank. There are bodies of our soldiers on the ground, they don’t look fresh. They’ve probably been dead for at least a day…”

“I’ll have my men flank left and right to approach the German defensive positions and do our best to help you locate the German tank,” the infantry commander said, beginning to assign attack routes and sketching on his map.

“It might just be an anti-tank gun,” one of the commanders said, looking at the still-burning wreck of his skipper’s tank.

“The range is about 900 meters. We can only see one building, some low bushes, and some mounds. They are very well camouflaged. If we circle around the flanks and use the bushes for cover, we might have some success,” another commander suggested, pointing to the side.

“German tanks are used to operating alone or in small groups. They are very confident. But we have the advantage in numbers, so don’t be afraid. A-Company and C-Company will attack from the front, B-Company will flank them. We’ll take them out in one go!” the battalion commander ordered after surveying the terrain. “Don’t wait for support! Attack now!”

After a brief discussion, the British tank unit began its attack. Accompanied by infantry, they advanced in three columns up the high ground, preparing to cross the road and launch a pincer attack on the small village on the other side.

Boom! Another explosion. The British attack seemed to be plagued by misfortune and disaster from the very beginning. Their tanks had only just shown themselves when one was hit in the frontal armor plate. The entire tank burst into flames and came to a halt, blocking the path of advance.

“A tank has been hit! I see the smoke and muzzle flash opposite! They’re hiding behind that building! See that window with the curtain? See that window! Their gun is there!” a tank commander shouted, pointing into the distance.

“I don’t know if it’s an anti-tank gun or a tank! We can’t see behind the house! Full speed ahead! Continue the attack! Continue the attack!” the tank commander yelled excitedly. He had no idea if the hidden German gun would make him its next target. All he could do was pray that it wouldn’t.

God bless him, the enemy’s next shot did not choose him. Instead, it hit a tank to his left. The cannon shell easily pierced the British tank’s armor, tearing through the fragile steel plates and turning the crew inside into mangled corpses. The stricken tank slowly came to a halt, smoke pouring from it as it became another wreck on the battlefield.

“I can see their position! I have them targeted!” the gunner reported loudly.

“Fire! Fire! Fire when you have a shot!” the British commander ordered. He was in a panic, because it was likely that the next tank the enemy destroyed would be his own, the most dangerous M3 Lee on the field.

Thump! His own tank finally fired the first shot in retaliation. The shell flew towards the greyish, collapsed building and struck its wall, causing half of it to crumble. Unfortunately, the collapse kicked up a small cloud of smoke, making it even harder to see the German position.

Fortunately, the rain was still pouring from the sky, and the smoke was suppressed and dissipated after only a few seconds. And there, revealed in the sights and periscopes of the British armored force, was a massive grey behemoth, the dark, gaping maw of its cannon a terrifying sight.

“God! A German tank! A German tank! It’s that new type of tank! Aim quickly! Fire!” the tank commander screamed in terror. “My God! It’s firing!”

Through his periscope, he saw the Tiger tank opposite him once again spit a brilliant tongue of fire. An 88mm shell effortlessly turned another British M3 tank into a pile of scrap from a distance of 800 meters.

At this range, the armor of an M3 tank could not even withstand a shot from a Panther’s 75mm cannon. The British tankers knew that if they were facing the Tiger, which was rumored to be even more formidable than the Panther, they had to desperately close the distance and fire at point-blank range to have any chance of winning.

After all, by the time the Tiger tank was deployed in large numbers with the German army, the French armored forces on the front line had been all but wiped out. So, until now, there were no records of a Tiger tank being destroyed, which was the main reason this tank had been overly mythologized in Britain and America.

Some said the new German tank’s frontal armor was simply impenetrable. Many soldiers demanded that their tanks be up-gunned with an impossible 105mm cannon. Some armored units were even ordered to close to within 50 meters before firing, to ensure they could penetrate the new German tank’s frontal plate.

Boom! Suddenly, a jet of white smoke erupted from the bushes to the side. An M3 tank on the flanking maneuver was instantly destroyed. The British soldiers in the flanking force were thrown into chaos, and the radio channels were filled with frantic shouting.

“The Germans have two tanks! Two tanks! Retreat! Retreat! We’re being attacked! Tom’s been hit! Tom’s been hit!”

“My God! Reverse! Reverse quickly! Their machine guns are firing! Our infantry have been hit! Oh, God!”

“Hey! They’re firing again! Cover us! Cover us! Jack’s tank is on fire! Jack’s finished! I saw him try to climb out, but he was engulfed by the flames! He burned to death!”

As the British were thrown into disarray, the German tanks charged out from their concealed positions. Tank 007 led the way, and on the other flank, the other Tiger, which had already revealed its position, also charged out. The British immediately began to rout.

The Tiger tanks’ cannons fired continuously. One after another, the British tanks were hit, caught fire, smoked, and exploded. The entire battlefield was filled with the screams of the British and the victorious cheers of the Germans.