was clearly calming down , as his pitch started to descend to more normal levels.
Cigarettes appeared and Hardy tried to calm his men further, all made jittery by the panic of their gunner. He spoke softly to the man.
“ Ok then, Teo Li, you've been in action before. What on ear th got into you? You’ve seen a Shinhoto before, haven’t you?”
The look from the frightened Chinese was a mix of disbelief and contempt. “That no Shinhoto, Hardy Sergeant. That bigger tank.”
This started the rest of the crew off again and the chatter again climbed in pitch and intensity. Hardy, his dislike of serving with the Chinks reinforced , dismounted once more and moved to watch the armoured exchange.
An M4A4 had stopped to engage the Japanese tanks and was rewarded with a first shot hit, splitting the track of the stationary tank adjacent to the road. A well aimed reply struck the Sherman on the glacis and ricocheted skywards with next to no damage done, a gleaming scar the sole testament to the strike.
The American gunner nonchalantly adjusted his aim and dispatched the Shinhoto through the hull, watching as three panicked crew members abandoned their tank before putting a second shot into the smoking vehicle.
Hardy thought the shooting was impressive and nodded approvingly when the second Sherman killed the other Shinhoto with its first shot.
Inside the two lead Shermans , the relaxed atmosphere generated by easy kills evaporated in an instant as first one then the other gunner brought their sights to bear on a third enemy tank.
The first gunner remained speechless, transfixed by the sight.
The second gunner had the presence of mind to report the new target.
“Enemy tank, two o’clock, range 900 yards.”
The Commander looked for the new target and found it, euphoria turning quickly to fear.
Never having seen one in the flesh before didn’t mean that the vehicle wasn’t instantly recognisable , and every man that saw it knew that death was a moment away.
Hardy had turned back to his own vehicle when the sound of a heavy gun reached his ears, accompanied by the thundering whoosh as it slid closely by its intended target.
“What the fuck?”, although somewhere in the recesses of his memory he recognised the sound and his stomach flipped.
The two M4’s were reversing, smoke pouring from their labouring engines and from smoke grenades lobbed by the crew to cover the withdrawal.
Hardy knew the answer before he looked, just in time to hear the big gun roar again and the first Sherman explode into a fireball from which no-one escaped.
It was the sound of a Tiger I’s 88mm gun that he had recognised, and sat on the road eight hundred yards away , was a fully operational example of the deadly German tank.
By the time Hardy had composed himself , the tank had eaten fifty yards off that distance, firing on the move without success.
The American battalion commander contemplated relieving the idiotic Lieutenant who was screaming about Tiger tanks . B efore he made the decision, the man ’ s radio transmission ended abruptly .
The second Tiger’s arrival gave Hardy the impetus he needed , and he was in his tank in seconds, issuing orders, anxious to get his tin can out of the way of the leviathans.
Swiftly conversing with the unit Commander , he pushed out to the right, heading towards the river, looking for a way round on the right flank, as other’s were looking on the left.
Hamuda calmed his men, listening intently to the reports of combat coming from the tanks of 2nd Company , marrying them with the evidence of his eyes .
The American Sherman and Stuart tanks were expanding their line and firing rapidly, presenting excellent flank targets to his company’s Panther tanks. A fact he reported, keen to get into action before 2nd Company claimed too many. Through his episcopes he could already see six American tanks burning , but there were plenty
Cigarettes appeared and Hardy tried to calm his men further, all made jittery by the panic of their gunner. He spoke softly to the man.
“ Ok then, Teo Li, you've been in action before. What on ear th got into you? You’ve seen a Shinhoto before, haven’t you?”
The look from the frightened Chinese was a mix of disbelief and contempt. “That no Shinhoto, Hardy Sergeant. That bigger tank.”
This started the rest of the crew off again and the chatter again climbed in pitch and intensity. Hardy, his dislike of serving with the Chinks reinforced , dismounted once more and moved to watch the armoured exchange.
An M4A4 had stopped to engage the Japanese tanks and was rewarded with a first shot hit, splitting the track of the stationary tank adjacent to the road. A well aimed reply struck the Sherman on the glacis and ricocheted skywards with next to no damage done, a gleaming scar the sole testament to the strike.
The American gunner nonchalantly adjusted his aim and dispatched the Shinhoto through the hull, watching as three panicked crew members abandoned their tank before putting a second shot into the smoking vehicle.
Hardy thought the shooting was impressive and nodded approvingly when the second Sherman killed the other Shinhoto with its first shot.
Inside the two lead Shermans , the relaxed atmosphere generated by easy kills evaporated in an instant as first one then the other gunner brought their sights to bear on a third enemy tank.
The first gunner remained speechless, transfixed by the sight.
The second gunner had the presence of mind to report the new target.
“Enemy tank, two o’clock, range 900 yards.”
The Commander looked for the new target and found it, euphoria turning quickly to fear.
Never having seen one in the flesh before didn’t mean that the vehicle wasn’t instantly recognisable , and every man that saw it knew that death was a moment away.
Hardy had turned back to his own vehicle when the sound of a heavy gun reached his ears, accompanied by the thundering whoosh as it slid closely by its intended target.
“What the fuck?”, although somewhere in the recesses of his memory he recognised the sound and his stomach flipped.
The two M4’s were reversing, smoke pouring from their labouring engines and from smoke grenades lobbed by the crew to cover the withdrawal.
Hardy knew the answer before he looked, just in time to hear the big gun roar again and the first Sherman explode into a fireball from which no-one escaped.
It was the sound of a Tiger I’s 88mm gun that he had recognised, and sat on the road eight hundred yards away , was a fully operational example of the deadly German tank.
By the time Hardy had composed himself , the tank had eaten fifty yards off that distance, firing on the move without success.
The American battalion commander contemplated relieving the idiotic Lieutenant who was screaming about Tiger tanks . B efore he made the decision, the man ’ s radio transmission ended abruptly .
The second Tiger’s arrival gave Hardy the impetus he needed , and he was in his tank in seconds, issuing orders, anxious to get his tin can out of the way of the leviathans.
Swiftly conversing with the unit Commander , he pushed out to the right, heading towards the river, looking for a way round on the right flank, as other’s were looking on the left.
Hamuda calmed his men, listening intently to the reports of combat coming from the tanks of 2nd Company , marrying them with the evidence of his eyes .
The American Sherman and Stuart tanks were expanding their line and firing rapidly, presenting excellent flank targets to his company’s Panther tanks. A fact he reported, keen to get into action before 2nd Company claimed too many. Through his episcopes he could already see six American tanks burning , but there were plenty
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