"How long has it been? Why do I always feel like it's been at least a month? Maybe, time has long been a vague concept to me. I really hope we can get oil supplies quickly, otherwise what will happen to our King Tiger?
We can't do anything, so we can only stay in this isolated place as a fixed fort, and we have to worry about whether Allied planes will come to bomb us every day."
"I have to say, this feels really terrible. Compared with being in fear and doing nothing all day long, fighting with a clear goal is more suitable for me. It seems that I have become somewhat unable to integrate into normal life, at least for now.
.”
Today's short diary ended with a few lines. Wittmann, who had nothing to do and was busy writing here early in the morning, really couldn't find anything to do, otherwise he wouldn't have been free enough to write a diary in the morning to pass the time.
.
The diary of "Nothing to Fight" is more like an outlet for complaining about the unhappiness in my heart. The 101st Heavy Armored Battalion, which has been waiting for orders and fuel supplies these days, has done almost nothing. It is said that several battles have been fought on the front line.
In the defense and local counterattacks, our own side and the Allied forces won and lost each other. Generally speaking, the gap was not too big, and they could barely hold on to the existing front.
Wittmann really wanted to join it. Although it was risky, at least it was better than being here all day long in fear. The feeling of being on the front line with nothing to fight was really indescribable. It was like watching others busy.
They are almost like idlers who work hard.
"Wittmann, Wittmann? Are you in the room?"
Wittmann, who was about to close the pen cap and put away the diary, heard a voice coming from outside the door. Enschel must have come to him at this time for something important. Wittmann, who had always been very intuitive, could almost
Be sure of this.
"What's wrong? Come to me now. What happened?"
When he opened the door and went forward, he saw Enschel holding a telegram in his hand with a cigarette in his mouth. Enschel reached out and pinched the cigarette handle from his mouth, and then handed the telegram to him.
When he arrived in front of Wittmann, he pointed at the telegram with the hand holding his cigarette and spoke.
"Here comes the order. The fuel supply will arrive at noon. Intelligence shows that a British armored force is trying to attack Caen. We need to intercept them before they start taking action. They are still mobilizing and gathering troops. Today is a good time to take action.
, if they wait until they have assembled their troops, our battalion alone may not be able to deal with these John Bulls, they have a division."
While quickly reading the telegram and listening to Enschel's explanation, Wittmann understood the basic situation but still had doubts in his heart.
"But it doesn't say how much fuel is supplied. Our battalion is a big consumer of fuel. Can we use the fuel sent to us? This is a long-distance mobile cross-country with the entire battalion dispatched. Not to mention vehicle maintenance, we don't care if there is enough fuel.
We can't even fight."
The King Tiger, with a total combat weight of nearly 70 tons, is a veritable "gas tiger". The fuel consumption per 100 kilometers in off-road maneuvers has exceeded 900 liters. If the road conditions were worse, the King Tiger would step on the accelerator a few more times and go around twice more.
, fuel consumption exceeding 1,000 kilometers per 100 kilometers is not a problem, but there is a reason for Wittmann's worry.
"The oil will arrive in several batches at different times. These batches of oil are hard-won, and some are even temporarily seconded from other troops. They are all uniformly dispatched by our superiors to our battalion, in order to resolutely cut off the British people's reach.
Caen’s claws.”
"We are pressed for time and cannot wait for the fuel to be replenished before setting off as a group. I just went to the logistics department and found out that the second company is currently in the best condition. My plan is to wait until the first batch of fuel arrives at noon.
You immediately lead the Second Company to refuel and attack. Not to mention how many casualties it will cause to the British, at least it will disrupt their assembly and deployment, and we will delay it first."
"When I gather enough fuel here, the large army will rush over as quickly as possible to support you. Then we will give these John Bulls a fatal blow."
"Before this, you can adopt relatively conservative tactics, even harassment. You will make a decision based on the actual situation after you get to that place. The power is in your hands. In short, don't let the British go smoothly, everything will be fine.
You got what you wanted, do you understand?"
Enschel talked about this, and Wittmann roughly understood it.
There is a reason why the superiors urgently transferred this batch of oil to the 101st Battalion. The British armored division is probably not very easy to deal with. It would be unrealistic to let those infantry divisions, which lack guns and artillery, and the quality of their soldiers has seriously declined, to resist Caen.
This important town must be defended with all its strength if it is not lost. For this purpose, it is worth calling on the best troops, even if it means making some sacrifices and trade-offs, it is worth it.
Having realized that the next battle might not be that easy to deal with, Wittmann, who became interested in the identity of the enemy, couldn't help but ask again.
"Which British unit is it? What do we know about the enemy?"
Wittmann's question came a bit suddenly, but fortunately Enschel, who had made sufficient preparations in advance, already understood it.
"It is the 7th Armored Division of the British. It is strong and has rich combat experience. This group of guys fought fiercely with Marshal Rommel's troops in North Africa. The people of the Wehrmacht suffered a lot from the beatings of these British guys. 501
The heavy armored battalion was also severely punished by the 7th Armored Division."
"This time we were replaced by an independent heavy armored battalion of our SS. It was Marshal Rommel who personally ordered us. So this battle must be fought in a certain way no matter what. It is a battle of revenge, and it is also the purpose of our battalion.
Battle of Wei. Haven't you always wanted to find an enemy who could take advantage of you? Here's your chance. The 7th Armored Division is the most capable armored unit of the British. It will be a pleasure for you to hunt."
The 7th Armored Division? I've actually heard of this name, and finally met a decent opponent.
The last steamed bun baking contest did not bring any sense of achievement or satisfaction to Wittmann. The Sherman tanks of the Yankees were not even comparable to the T34 of the Russians. The armor was papery, the firepower was poor, and it was too long.
With his tall and tall target body, using the King Tiger to deal with these junk cars is a bit inferior. Wittmann dared to say that the Black Panther beat these junk cars as easily as chopping melons and vegetables, without any effort.
Now we have finally caught a "prestigious" opponent. Since this British 7th Armored Division was able to cause so much trouble to Marshal Rommel in North Africa, it must have some ability and be worthy of showing off its true abilities to challenge it.
"Understood, I'll do as you say. I'll pack up and go gather the troops. As soon as the fuel arrives, we'll refuel and set off. Are there any other friendly troops to cooperate with us?"