The armor-piercing shells violently exited the barrel and screamed in the wind. One after another, the British tanks were sent into the sky amidst the huge explosions and were completely torn apart.
This almost one-sided one-to-many massacre is still going on. King Tiger 007, which drove up to the top of the hill, is like a monster entrenched on the roof of its lair, devouring lives.
The British armored forces, which had put out all their strength to fight 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, constantly hitting the strong frontal main armor belt of the Tiger King and making a messy sound, which echoed in the car and was heard endlessly.
It is naturally impossible to say that I have no feeling at all about this unpleasant-sounding sound.
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 still have!?"
The gunner Wegner, who focused on aiming, firing, aiming again, and firing again, had already entered a state of 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!"
Just as Wittmann had expected, there was no such thing as a cannonball hitting the broken vehicles of the British but not being able to penetrate the armor. With Wegener's superb gunnery skills, King Tiger's every time
The firing 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 drastically reduced 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 there was such an impregnable iron wall in front of this thing, 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 that's the case, 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 disappointing immediate result was a large number of destroyed British tanks, the turrets were blown off, the fragments of the car bodies were exploded by ammunition, and even the engine exploded from the power compartment, all lying in a mess.
Lands in the west are scattered all over the surrounding area, completely blocking the road into the village that is 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 Kraut monster tank with a main gun that looked like a fishing rod opened fire. It fired one round so fast that it could not even see the afterimage.
The clear armor-piercing bullet directly penetrated the poor Cromwell from beginning to end, raising the super-small turret that was so crowded that both men felt suffocated.
Cromwell couldn't deal with that monster Kraut! 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.
"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", which is comparable to the Skunk Kailu. But the British 17-pound main gun it is equipped with is the most powerful.
It is said that there is no German tank that this new main gun cannot penetrate. This is the British "Firefly" medium tank modified based on the chassis of the American Sherman tank.
Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence clearly knew that the vanguard troops stationed in the village had a group of powerful Firefly medium tanks. Although the number was not large, I heard it was only single digits, but even if it was only single digits, at least they could deal with the people in front of them.
The German monster can be paralyzed or even wounded to force it to retreat, as long as the immediate crisis can be resolved.
Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence's hoarse roar was not in vain, and a clear reply came quickly from the other end of the radio.
"We are 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 would be able to 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 greater the expectation, the greater the disappointment. The truth is applicable at all times.
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 from time to time and glance towards the village entrance 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 being killed indiscriminately would most likely call for reinforcements. The closest troops, and the only troops that could quickly bring reinforcements, were the unknown number of British men in the village.
pioneer.
When the first Firefly medium tank swayed out of the village, its slender 17-pound gun barrel and the front half of the vehicle were sticking out. Wittmann, who had never let down his vigilance, saw it immediately.
At this scene, the order that took less than two seconds to think about was immediately blurted out.