Gunner Klink, who had been scolded by Wittmann, pouted and stopped talking. Although some of his words were not so pleasant, when you think about it carefully, they turned out to be true. Wittmann gave Klink the advice.
This is also true.
After being camouflaged by mud and broken branches, the originally brand-new Tiger tank looked like a big grave full of branches. In addition to its somewhat square shape, the Tiger tank, which was embellished with green sprouts, looked far away.
It certainly doesn't look like the outline of a tank from a distance.
"Looks good! Come on, guys! Get in the car, my gut tells me we'll have business to do soon!"
Wittmann, who clapped his hands gently, had not even finished his words yet and was greeting his crew to board the train to prepare for the battle. The shouts coming from a long distance immediately attracted Wittmann's attention and looked back.
"Michelle! Hey, Michelle!"
Looking back in the direction from which the sound came, the first thing that caught Wittmann's eyes was the figure of his own crew's radio operator running all the way.
"Run slowly, Berndt! Take a breath, what happened?"
The radio operator Berndt, who was running all the way with a telescope in one hand, was out of breath from exhaustion. It was obvious that he had run all the way for a kilometer at his maximum speed.
He bent down with his hands on his knees and gasped several times. Feeling that his lungs that were about to pop out were finally getting better, Berndt raised his head and spoke to Wittmann.
"Tanks! A lot of Russian tanks! They are coming from the northwest, forming a marching column, and about a company of Russian infantry is accompanying them! Their morale is very high, and they are singing songs. I
I heard it from a long way away, it was the Katyusha!"
"...."
It is relatively common for Soviet troops to march while singing, as many of the opponents they encountered in the past did this.
But what really troubled Wittmann was that this was a mixed column of infantry and tanks. Tanks with or without infantry accompanying them were completely different entities.
Our side does not carry any friendly infantry units, and the nearest unit of Major Heinkel is still stationed thirteen kilometers away. It is too late to call for infantry support at this urgent moment.
"How far away are they?"
After hearing Wittmann's question, Berndt, whose breathing had basically calmed down, immediately replied.
"There are still about three kilometers away from here. It should have been five kilometers away when I was lying on the tree and saw them just now. I'm not sure, Michelle, but I guess they will be here soon, only ten at most.
Minutes of work.”
According to common sense, when he knew that the enemy was an infantry-tank coordinated column and his own side only had four Tiger tanks at a numerical disadvantage, Wittmann, who was unlikely to receive any infantry support, should choose to order a retreat. This was
The safest choice in line with military common sense.
But the problem lies precisely in the fact that Wittmann is a very competitive character.
Retreating in such a dejected manner without doing anything is not in line with Wittmann's usual style of behavior. Moreover, if we miss this opportunity to block the Soviet tank force, we don't know when the next one will be.
Without reliable intelligence support, unexpectedly encountering Soviet tank troops was a blind cat-killing act, and Wittmann never pinned his victory on the illusory so-called possibility of fate.
Sexually.
After a brief psychological game and careful consideration, Wittmann, who no longer hesitated but looked firm, raised his head and spoke to the other three crew members beside him.
"We're not leaving, guys! Stay here, hide, and then take the initiative to kill those Russian tanks! Few versus many is just a good way to test the performance of our new tanks, and it can also let those in the Wehrmacht see what's going on.
Who is better!"
After hearing Wittmann's words, they couldn't help but look at each other. The four crews on this trip were ordered to follow Wittmann's command and complete the test mission. However, the orders Wittmann gave them now were really...
Some are too far-fetched.
"Michelle, are you serious? What about those Russian infantry? I don't think they will just wait to die with those tanks. We lack infantry cover! What will happen if those Russians rush up?
It will become uncontrollable, what are you going to do when that happens?"
Seeing the fellow comrade next to him who was also a member of the Guards Division loudly questioning him, Wittmann, who had made up his mind, almost stared at the other person's face and spoke word by word.
"If you think that a company of Russian infantry can penetrate your armor with an anti-tank gun, then I will immediately order a retreat! Or you have good reason to think that those Russians can blow up your tank with grenades.
, I can also order a retreat! But if that doesn’t work, then shut your mouth! Then execute the order!”
Wittmann, who had no spare time to continue talking nonsense here, directly issued an unquestionable death order. The young commander was stunned by Wittmann's unsparing words and didn't know what to say for a while.
After being stunned for a moment, he could only follow Wittmann's footsteps and choose to board his tank to prepare for battle.
"Start the engine, Klink adjusts the turret steering gear, and Holden stuffs the armor-piercing shell into the gun bore!"
Wittmann's loud orders echoed in the cold Tiger tank, and the fully loaded five-man crew immediately began to perform their respective duties under Wittmann's orders.
The hydraulically driven turret steering machine received power supply immediately after the engine was warmed up. Klink, who did not trust the new tank in gunnery, tried to turn the heavy 11-ton turret. Fortunately, it was equipped with a powerful turret.
The turret of the full millimeter kwk 36 56 times caliber main gun operates very normally.
Bending down, he picked up a millimeter hooded armor-piercing round from the wide chassis at his feet and stuffed it into the gun barrel. Holden, the loader who completed the last preparations, reported the situation to Wittmann.
The tiger's body, camouflaged by mud and branches, was quietly dormant in a low-lying area that blocked the view, waiting for an opportunity. Whether the dirt road a hundred meters away led to death or victory was about to be announced.
"They're coming! Michelle, ten o'clock!"
In the audible silence of the tank, gunner Klink's low roar rang out, and Wittmann, who stood in the commander's command tower, immediately aimed his vision at the ten o'clock direction.
"One, two, three, four...how many more!? This is obviously a Russian tank!"