Steel Soviet Union

The armor-piercing shells that were violently discharged screamed in the wind, and one British tank after another was sent into the sky and completely torn apart in the huge explosion.

This almost one-sided one-to-many massacre was still going on. King Tiger 007, which drove up to the top of the hill, was like a monster entrenched on the roof of its lair, devouring lives.

The British armored forces, which had put all their strength into fighting for their lives, were firing on all cylinders, but the Cromwell tank's 57mm small water pipe main gun was really powerless and could not hurt the man lying on the top of the slope. Half a point for monsters.

Ding ding ding ding——

crackling——

Bang——

The armor-piercing bullets that were continuously fired from all angles were like stones thrown by urchins. They kept hitting the strong frontal main armor belt of the Tiger King, making a messy sound and making various sounds that echoed in the car.

It is naturally impossible to say that he has no feeling at all about this unpleasant-sounding voice.

At this moment, whether it was Wittmann, gunner Wegener, or any one of the other three crew members, their nerves were in a highly concentrated and tense state, and they did not dare to be careless in the slightest. I was worried that the next armor-piercing bullet flying from nowhere would penetrate the armor and kill everyone in the car.

"How many tanks do the British have!?"

Gunner Wegner, who focused on aiming, firing, aiming again, and firing again, had already entered a state of complete concentration between man and gun. He didn't even bother to adjust the magnification of the main gun sight to see how many British guys were left waiting. Kill it yourself.

"There aren't many left, no more than ten at most! Keep firing! Kill them all!"

It was exactly as Wittmann had expected. There was no such thing as a cannonball hitting the broken vehicles of the British but failing to penetrate the armor. Relying on Wegener's superb gunnery skills, every firing of the King Tiger heralded the sending of a British tank into the sky and heading west.

The result of this efficient massacre was that the number of remaining tanks in the British army was rapidly decreasing at an alarming rate visible to the naked eye.

Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence, who was so shocked by the scene in front of him that he was almost out of his body, felt that he was almost stupid. Why could he lead a battalion of troops but couldn't even deal with this broken German car? ?

If we had known that the front of this thing had such an impregnable iron wall, we might as well have ordered the troops to use their numerical superiority to outflank it and break it from the side. If we had done this, the losses might have been much smaller.

If so, why not do it now? Does the current British armored force have a numerical advantage?

Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence thought about it too, and it could even be said that he was crazy about it.

But the desperate immediate result is a large number of destroyed British tank wreckage, the blown turret, the fragmented car body fragments that were exploded by ammunition, and even the engine that exploded from the power compartment, all scattered horizontally and vertically. Lands and fields were scattered all over the surrounding area, completely blocking the road into the village that was not wide enough to accommodate only one tank.

Even if the remaining British tanks wanted to move, there was nothing they could do. Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence saw with his own eyes that a Cromwell was stuck between the wreckage of the two vehicles at the front and rear. It was unable to charge or reverse. Even after trying it twice, it was still the same. It's stuck.

Before the unlucky Cromwell could make its third attempt, the German monster tank with a fishing rod-like main gun opened fire. With an armor-piercing bullet that was so fast that even the afterimage could not be seen clearly, it directly penetrated the poor Cromwell from the beginning to the end, and lifted the super-small turret that was so crowded that both of them felt suffocated. high.

Cromwell couldn't deal with that German monster! At least not at this distance.

Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence, who has already made a judgment in his mind, once again picked up the radio transmitter at hand. The next thing to do will be his last hope or life-saving straw in the current predicament. Can he survive this situation alive? Just look at the answer from the other side at the first level.

"I am Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence of the 4th London Regiment of the 22nd Brigade. Anyone in the village who hears this news better come out and support us! The Germans ambushed us with a monster tank outside the village. I need the tank with the most powerful firepower. ! Send me those fireflies, I know you have them, hurry up!"

Among the current British armored forces, there is such a strange tank with a "British head and an American body" with a head-swapped head, which is comparable to the Skunk Kailu. However, the British 17-pound main gun it is equipped with is the most powerful one. It is said that there is no German tank that this new main gun cannot penetrate. This is the British "Firefly" modified based on the chassis of the American Sherman tank. "Medium tank.

Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence clearly knew that the vanguard troops stationed in the village had a group of powerful Firefly medium tanks in their hands. Although the number is not large, I heard it is only in single digits, but even if it is only in single digits, at least it can deal with the German monster in front of me. It can paralyze it or even injure it and force it to retreat, as long as it can be neutralized. No matter how you get rid of the crisis in front of you, it will be fine.

Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence's hoarse yell was not in vain, and a clear reply came quickly from the other end of the radio.

"Already on the way, we have sent tanks and support troops to pick you up, sir! Please hold on, support will be here soon."

"Then you'd better hurry up, otherwise you'll be ready to go to court-martial for your crime!"

Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence, who threw away the radio transmitter, placed all his bets on the fireflies, imagining that as soon as the fireflies arrived, he could immediately shoot down the German monster in front of him and kill him on the spot.

So will the coming reality really be like this?

Facts have once again proved that the unreasonable and ruthless reality is often much worse than the expected situation. The truth that the greater the expectation, the greater the disappointment will be, applies no matter what time.

Wittmann had been paying close attention to the direction of the village entrance. Even if the battle in front of him was fierce, he would turn his head slightly and glance towards the village entrance from time to time, in order to prevent any accidents from happening.

Wittmann knew clearly that the group of British men who were being pinned to the ground and killing them would most likely call for reinforcements. The closest unit, and the only one that could quickly come over with reinforcements, was the unknown number of British vanguards in the village.

When the first Firefly medium tank swayed out of the village entrance, the slender 17-pound gun barrel and the front half of the vehicle were stuck out. Wittmann, who had never let down his guard, saw this scene immediately, and blurted out the order that took less than two seconds to think about.