Not exactly naval fiction, but please enjoy anyway!
First Salvo
1st Panzer Division covering force AOR, [D-Day, T minus 5 minutes]
Hauptmann Klaus “Twenty” Zwanzig stood head and shoulders out of the cupola of his tank, “Majestik Møøse”, a Leopard 2A6M. The general alert had gone out and he and his company had begun preparing for what was now inevitable.
Thanks to the somewhat fortuitous advance warning, the entirety of NORTHAG had been mobilized just in time and moved to their respective AORs according to the General Defense Plan. This also meant that 3rd Panzer did not have to stand in for the covering force of the Dutch 1e Legerkorps. Accordingly 3rd Panzer had, as soon as their Dutch counterparts had arrived, been detached from the Dutch corps and been reattached to I. Korps.
This meant that the troop density between Uelzen and Gifhorn had gone up by fifty percent and one major headache of decades of pre-war defence planning had disappeared. 7th Panzer had also been relieved from duty as NORTHAG’s sole strategic reserve divisional formation. That role had been taken over by III (US) Corps. Seventh Panzer now stood poised at the border to the rear battle area of I (GE) Corps, to fill gaps in the line or to counter a breakthrough.
While alternate GDPs existed and had been practiced from time to time, the short-term reshuffling of units had nearly driven the corps and division staffs involved to distraction. However, that lay in the past.
Zwanzig reflected upon the tactical situation. His battalion was positioned slightly – about five hundred metres – offset to the west and south from its GDP-assigned positions, astride Bundesstraße 248, well camouflaged and in good hull-down positions. That the Pact knew about the GDPs was an open secret, thus every unit commander with a sense of self-preservation had opted to change things around a bit.
All radio checks had been done, the tactical data net that allowed quick and unobtrusive target allocation and orders ran flawlessly for once and his men were ready and primed to give Ivan a warm welcome.
A few minutes ago, the Skorpion mine laying vehicles of 2nd Panzer Brigade and the attached Territorialheer engineer units had finished the final touches to the system of anti-tank and anti-personnel mine fields in front of the first line of defence, Verzögerungslinie Kiebitz[1]. Now all they all could do was wait for the war to start.
All the signs were there to see. The terrain surveillance radars of Panzeraufklärungsbataillon 1 periodically and from constantly changing positions gave the prospective battlefield and also parts of the terrain behind the IGB one or two sweeps and showed a vast number of contacts approaching the border. Attack helicopters had been flying up and down behind the Iron Curtain for days and careful IMINT had revealed that DDR Border Troops and Red Army had removed minefields and prepared whole sections of the combined wall and wire border for destruction so the initial attack could proceed unimpeded. We’ll see about that, comrades, was what went through the officer’s mind.
“It should begin any time now, guys”, he told his crew. "Try to quit thinking and rely on your training. We trained for this. We know what is coming. We are also sitting in one of the best tanks in the world.”
A series of muffled acknowledgements were his crew's reply.
There. Within an instant, the entire eastern horizon was covered in an unending series of random flashes. Russian artillery. The artillery shells and unguided rockets would impact in less than thirty seconds. Zwanzig looked at his battle management system display. There. It showed enemy unit markers crossing the border at Brome, going hell for leather on B 248. The crossroads with B 244 was at the edge of Panzerkompanie 242’s effective gun range, and the Korps’ engineers had prepared a special surprise, right out of the Wallmeister branch’s playbook.
The young company commander knew the sound of incoming artillery shells from the firing range in Munster. He took a last look along what was now the front and lowered himself onto his seat. The enemy artillery strike struck along the length of VZL Kiebitz, and on houses and villages in front of that line. The Russians performed according to a long-standing firing plan that took several minutes to execute. Too many of the dwellings along the IGB still had occupants in them. Moreover, undoubtedly, a lot of the listening posts and observation nests copped their share of heavy ordnance. Unbidden, a text snippet from ManOwaR’s “The Warrior’s Prayer” sprung to his mind: I could feel the ground shake, the earth drank much blood that day as Majestik Møøse rocked on its suspension and the odd artillery splinter pinged off the hull.
It was obvious that the Red Army had long been practising for just such a mission. The artillery barrage let up, and god knows how many ground attack planes and attack helicopters appeared. Zwanzig could make out Su-24, Su-39, Mi-24 and Mi-28 through his commander’s sight. The jets came in low, firing unguided rockets and dropping “shake and bake” loads of HE and incendiary bombs on the lines of the covering forces. Casualties seemed to be fairly light, however. The attacks brought them in range of the West Germans’ attached ground-based air defences, and judging from the fireballs and falling debris, the flak and FlaRak had a field day.
Looking through the commander’s sight, he made out the exhaust and contrails of MLRS unguided rockets and of ATGMs fired by attack helicopters, Panzer Grenadiers and the brigade’s Panzerjäger company. The former arced across the IGB and sought out the positions of the Russian artillery units. The latter streaked towards the first reconnaissance vehicles and MBTs that had crossed into West German territory.
A company of Soviet MBTs had fanned out across the four arms of the road intersection and air defence vehicles were in the process of taking up positions behind them. Some unseen soldier in an observation post pushed down a handle on a firing device and enormous explosions severed all four arms of the crossroads, making it worthless for any further use at least for a day or two. Zwanzig could actually make out a BRDM being tossed a dozen metres into the air like a plastic toy. The timing was picture perfect. The following attack echelon bunched up behind the explosions, the vehicles fanned out and continued their attack to the left and right of B 248. Thanks to the darkness, a dearth of night vision technology for the drivers and the sheer chaos of the unfolding battle, it took them just twenty or thirty seconds too long. A massive – and visually impressive - artillery strike by a full battalion of PzH 2000 and a battery of MLRS loaded with DPICM-loaded rockets made mincemeat of the leading battalion, which now formed a massive, burning roadblock.[2]
The accurate and murderous bombardment forced the Soviet units to spread out even more, which took a lot of momentum out of their attack. Hauptmann Zwanzig typed a quick reminder into the BMS, which told his crews not to engage until the enemy formations crossed the 2000-metre line. He kept a weather eye out for prime targets and otherwise enjoyed the fireworks. Presently, the first line of Soviet tanks fell afoul of one of the mine fields laid across their most likely approach vector. The vehicles behind them predictably began to line up and bunch up behind the tanks equipped with mine rollers or mine ploughs, which allowed the defenders to concentrate their fire on a much-reduced number of places.
The 2nd Panzer Brigade’s organic artillery now began to split up into batteries and engage targets of opportunity as called for by the Forward Observers and the units in the first line of defence. Further west, the artillery of the four Heer divisions and the Corps-level artillery assets joined in. 155mm SMArt munitions were added to the mix and their EFPs began to contribute to the carnage on the battlefield.
Zwanzig caught himself chewing his thumbnail through his Nomex glove. He was nervous, but knew that he had to project a calm demeanor to his men, and especially his crew.
“Chef, we have the enemy lead vehicles at a distance of 2,200 metres, looks like T-90s and BRDMs,” came the voice of his gunner over the intercom.
“Right. You know the drill, gentlemen. Prepare for firing. Gunner. Target. Mine plough. Distance 2250. On. After that, fire at will. I need to keep an eye on our company.”
The gunner locked the gun on the designated target and he and his Kommandant went through the rest of the procedure.
Zwanzig chose the company’s frequency from the touch screen display and announced, “All stations, this is Six. Prepare for firing. On my signal, unleash hell. Out.” Another pop culture reference. He just could not help it.
Throughout the fourteen MBTs of his company – and all other panzer companies of the covering force – the loaders made sure one APFSDS round was loaded into the breech, they held another round at the ready and balanced a third with the butt plate on one boot and the tungsten carbide penetrator wedged between their knees or thighs. The ammunition racks were kept open, so the fourth round could be snatched out and rammed into the breech without impediment.
The practice was very unsafe and officially very forbidden by Heer regulations, but secretly encouraged. Every loader since the founding of the Bundeswehr’s Panzertruppe had been taught this technique which enabled the more nimble loaders and a good gunner to let loose four rounds of aimed fire in a bit less than twelve seconds, if the gunner - or the commander - were on the ball acquiring a new target in that time. It was a bit like a “mad minute” in the infantry, but with 120mm guns instead of rifles. After that, the rate of fire would be naturally reduced to a more sedate eight or ten rounds a minute, depending upon if the tank was moving during reloading or not. And if the loader could manage to get at the 24 rounds of 120mm stashed in the ammunition compartment to the front and left of his platform.
“Okay. Heads up, here we go...2100…2050. Auf erkanntes Ziel…”, he triggered the company voice circuit, “FIRE. FIRE. FIRE.” A whole tank company, in concert with the rest of its battalion, firing its main guns in near unison was a picture for the ages. The APFSDS darts, freed from their sabots after leaving the barrels, flew downrange and effectively obliterated almost forty Soviet armoured vehicles in the blink of an eye.
The gunner in Zwanzig’s tank shouted “TARGET!”, signalling that the enemy tank had been destroyed.
Below him, the loader was already moving. He subconsciously listened for the clang of the spent butt plate in the wire basket behind the breech, rammed the next cartridge home, closed the breech, turned out of its recoil path and shouted “UP!”. He then bent down and snatched up the next cartridge from between his knees. The gunner had in the meantime already selected the next target, a T-90 with extra aerials. He triggered the targeting laser, waited for the firing solution to be computed and finally fired the gun, shouting “ON THE WAY!” The loader and gunner were good. Almost exactly four seconds had elapsed between the first and second shot.
The first salvo of the defenders had revealed their position to the attackers. Artillery rounds and fire from main battle tanks began to impact on and around their lines. Zwanzig felt his tank rock on its suspension from a 152mm grenade detonating fifty metres away. Enemy motor riflemen deployed from their APCs and IFVs.
Thanks to the almost fourteen days of pre-warning, the defenders had had ample time to prepare the initial battlefield. From a series of trenches and foxholes, Panzergrenadiers’ MG3s mounted on tripod mounts in the HMG role and equipped with Hensoldt 4x24 periscopic sights began to fire at a distance of almost 2,000 yards, nach alter Väter Sitte. They mowed down enemy infantry in the crossfire and more importantly disrupting their deployment from their IFVs and them forming up into a coherent fighting force. The only difference to what the grandfathers of the machine gunners had had sixty years before was that the periscopes were equipped with clip-on night vision and the caliber was somewhat weaker.
CLANG!
The whole tank shook as a 125mm AP dart glanced off Majestik Møøse’s turret armour, penetrating the wedge armor, yawing a few degrees, thus not being able to penetrate the turret armor. Zwanzig was only saved from a head injury thanks to the paddet crewman’s helmet he was wearing. Nevertheless, he bonked himself a good one on the interior of the turret.
“Autsch! Scheiße! Damage report!”, Zwanzig shouted and rubbed his head with one hand. The crew quickly went through the immediate damage check list everybody had memorized.
“The targeting laser is out of focus. Looks like something that cannot be fixed with field-expedient means. The Inst [4] is behind the canal,” the gunner reported. “Right. Gunner, do your best without the laser.” Zwanzig had all confidence in his gunner, a Feldwebel who was the best shot with a tank gun in the whole battalion.
The enemy now was closing in on the invisible 1,000-metre line and the incoming fire became a lot more precise. The captain registered that two of his tanks went out of action on the space of less than ten seconds.
There. Orders from Battalion arrived, retreat to VZL Sperber. Zwanzig sent on the order to his somewhat shrunken company and also repeated it on the voice circuit. The company fired off their smoke canisters and began to leapfrog backwards to their new defensive line.
As Zwanzig typed out the movement report, West German artillery began to fall among the ranks of the advancing Soviet tanks and infantry. The West Germans kept up intermittent fire as they moved backwards, utilizing folds and rises in the ground as a means to shield themselves from enemy fire as much as possible. Hauptmann Zwanzig heard his gunner utter some very powerful curses under his breath since it proved to be nearly impossible to put aimed fire on target while moving across rough terrain.
He glanced at the BMS display. Only a few hundred metres more.
Then he knew no more. A Soviet APFSDS dart in a freak feat of accuracy penetrated into the gap between gun mantlet and turret armour on the commander’s side, burrowed through whatever armour was left, killed Hauptmann Zwanzig and briefly knocked out his gunner. The ammunition rack in the rear of the turret was empty which save the vehicle from suffering a sympathetic detonation. Thanks to being on his knees fishing for another DM 53 round in the forward ammunition compartment, the loader was completely unharmed except for a litte accident in his tanker’s coveralls.
“Scheiße. Was ist passiert?” The driver shouted over the intercom, keeping up the maximum possible speed backwards. His eyes were glued to the rear camera display.
The loader, an Obergefreiter, looked up and around and beheld the horror. He felt his gorge rise and barely managed to keep it down. The captain was simply gone from the belt buckle upwards, with his blood and viscera sprayed across the complete interior of the turret. The young draftee could make out a piece of face with a whole ear attached. He lost the fight against his stomach and added to the impromptu Jackson Pollock display.
“Somebody talk to me. What happened?”
The loader mentally shook himself and answered, “The boss is gone. The Feldwebel is still there and…”, he checked, “…alive. Keep going. As long as we can move, we ain’t dead yet.”
At the same time, about 1,200 metres to the east, the T-90 responsible for the hit in turn brewed up thanks to a tantalum EFP from a SMArt 155 skeet penetrating the roof armour of the MBT and igniting the ammunition left in the autoloader’s carrousel. The turret went for low Earth orbit on a plume of fire.
The next in command to captain Zwanzig, a First Lieutenant holding the post of Kompanieeinsatzoffizier[3], realized that the command tank was incommunicado and kept going even after the new line of defence had been reached. He typed in a command into the BMS, informing the company and Battalion that he was taking over command. The rest of the company kept fighting and killing, taking a heavy toll from the attackers.
The driver of the KIA West German company CO’s Leopard 2, or what was left of it, put the pedal to the metal and barely managed to get the tank behind a slight rise where he turned the tank 180 degrees and raced towards the designated crossing point under the Elbe-Seitenkanal and the regrouping and aid area a short distance behind it.
Behind them, the battle for West Germany raged on. The survivors and unwounded of the crew were later amalgamated with another bunch of survivors into a new tank crew and an hour after arriving at the regrouping area were in combat again.
[1] Verzögerungslinie (abbr: VZL), lit.: Delaying Line. Phase Line in US Army-speak.
[2] Every prepared obstacle in West Germany was integrated into the artillery’s firing plans
[3] Lit. Company Operations Officer, second in command to the company CO
[4] Inst, short hand for Instandsetzung, bureaucratese for repair units
First Salvo
1st Panzer Division covering force AOR, [D-Day, T minus 5 minutes]
Hauptmann Klaus “Twenty” Zwanzig stood head and shoulders out of the cupola of his tank, “Majestik Møøse”, a Leopard 2A6M. The general alert had gone out and he and his company had begun preparing for what was now inevitable.
Thanks to the somewhat fortuitous advance warning, the entirety of NORTHAG had been mobilized just in time and moved to their respective AORs according to the General Defense Plan. This also meant that 3rd Panzer did not have to stand in for the covering force of the Dutch 1e Legerkorps. Accordingly 3rd Panzer had, as soon as their Dutch counterparts had arrived, been detached from the Dutch corps and been reattached to I. Korps.
This meant that the troop density between Uelzen and Gifhorn had gone up by fifty percent and one major headache of decades of pre-war defence planning had disappeared. 7th Panzer had also been relieved from duty as NORTHAG’s sole strategic reserve divisional formation. That role had been taken over by III (US) Corps. Seventh Panzer now stood poised at the border to the rear battle area of I (GE) Corps, to fill gaps in the line or to counter a breakthrough.
While alternate GDPs existed and had been practiced from time to time, the short-term reshuffling of units had nearly driven the corps and division staffs involved to distraction. However, that lay in the past.
Zwanzig reflected upon the tactical situation. His battalion was positioned slightly – about five hundred metres – offset to the west and south from its GDP-assigned positions, astride Bundesstraße 248, well camouflaged and in good hull-down positions. That the Pact knew about the GDPs was an open secret, thus every unit commander with a sense of self-preservation had opted to change things around a bit.
All radio checks had been done, the tactical data net that allowed quick and unobtrusive target allocation and orders ran flawlessly for once and his men were ready and primed to give Ivan a warm welcome.
A few minutes ago, the Skorpion mine laying vehicles of 2nd Panzer Brigade and the attached Territorialheer engineer units had finished the final touches to the system of anti-tank and anti-personnel mine fields in front of the first line of defence, Verzögerungslinie Kiebitz[1]. Now all they all could do was wait for the war to start.
All the signs were there to see. The terrain surveillance radars of Panzeraufklärungsbataillon 1 periodically and from constantly changing positions gave the prospective battlefield and also parts of the terrain behind the IGB one or two sweeps and showed a vast number of contacts approaching the border. Attack helicopters had been flying up and down behind the Iron Curtain for days and careful IMINT had revealed that DDR Border Troops and Red Army had removed minefields and prepared whole sections of the combined wall and wire border for destruction so the initial attack could proceed unimpeded. We’ll see about that, comrades, was what went through the officer’s mind.
“It should begin any time now, guys”, he told his crew. "Try to quit thinking and rely on your training. We trained for this. We know what is coming. We are also sitting in one of the best tanks in the world.”
A series of muffled acknowledgements were his crew's reply.
There. Within an instant, the entire eastern horizon was covered in an unending series of random flashes. Russian artillery. The artillery shells and unguided rockets would impact in less than thirty seconds. Zwanzig looked at his battle management system display. There. It showed enemy unit markers crossing the border at Brome, going hell for leather on B 248. The crossroads with B 244 was at the edge of Panzerkompanie 242’s effective gun range, and the Korps’ engineers had prepared a special surprise, right out of the Wallmeister branch’s playbook.
The young company commander knew the sound of incoming artillery shells from the firing range in Munster. He took a last look along what was now the front and lowered himself onto his seat. The enemy artillery strike struck along the length of VZL Kiebitz, and on houses and villages in front of that line. The Russians performed according to a long-standing firing plan that took several minutes to execute. Too many of the dwellings along the IGB still had occupants in them. Moreover, undoubtedly, a lot of the listening posts and observation nests copped their share of heavy ordnance. Unbidden, a text snippet from ManOwaR’s “The Warrior’s Prayer” sprung to his mind: I could feel the ground shake, the earth drank much blood that day as Majestik Møøse rocked on its suspension and the odd artillery splinter pinged off the hull.
It was obvious that the Red Army had long been practising for just such a mission. The artillery barrage let up, and god knows how many ground attack planes and attack helicopters appeared. Zwanzig could make out Su-24, Su-39, Mi-24 and Mi-28 through his commander’s sight. The jets came in low, firing unguided rockets and dropping “shake and bake” loads of HE and incendiary bombs on the lines of the covering forces. Casualties seemed to be fairly light, however. The attacks brought them in range of the West Germans’ attached ground-based air defences, and judging from the fireballs and falling debris, the flak and FlaRak had a field day.
Looking through the commander’s sight, he made out the exhaust and contrails of MLRS unguided rockets and of ATGMs fired by attack helicopters, Panzer Grenadiers and the brigade’s Panzerjäger company. The former arced across the IGB and sought out the positions of the Russian artillery units. The latter streaked towards the first reconnaissance vehicles and MBTs that had crossed into West German territory.
A company of Soviet MBTs had fanned out across the four arms of the road intersection and air defence vehicles were in the process of taking up positions behind them. Some unseen soldier in an observation post pushed down a handle on a firing device and enormous explosions severed all four arms of the crossroads, making it worthless for any further use at least for a day or two. Zwanzig could actually make out a BRDM being tossed a dozen metres into the air like a plastic toy. The timing was picture perfect. The following attack echelon bunched up behind the explosions, the vehicles fanned out and continued their attack to the left and right of B 248. Thanks to the darkness, a dearth of night vision technology for the drivers and the sheer chaos of the unfolding battle, it took them just twenty or thirty seconds too long. A massive – and visually impressive - artillery strike by a full battalion of PzH 2000 and a battery of MLRS loaded with DPICM-loaded rockets made mincemeat of the leading battalion, which now formed a massive, burning roadblock.[2]
The accurate and murderous bombardment forced the Soviet units to spread out even more, which took a lot of momentum out of their attack. Hauptmann Zwanzig typed a quick reminder into the BMS, which told his crews not to engage until the enemy formations crossed the 2000-metre line. He kept a weather eye out for prime targets and otherwise enjoyed the fireworks. Presently, the first line of Soviet tanks fell afoul of one of the mine fields laid across their most likely approach vector. The vehicles behind them predictably began to line up and bunch up behind the tanks equipped with mine rollers or mine ploughs, which allowed the defenders to concentrate their fire on a much-reduced number of places.
The 2nd Panzer Brigade’s organic artillery now began to split up into batteries and engage targets of opportunity as called for by the Forward Observers and the units in the first line of defence. Further west, the artillery of the four Heer divisions and the Corps-level artillery assets joined in. 155mm SMArt munitions were added to the mix and their EFPs began to contribute to the carnage on the battlefield.
Zwanzig caught himself chewing his thumbnail through his Nomex glove. He was nervous, but knew that he had to project a calm demeanor to his men, and especially his crew.
“Chef, we have the enemy lead vehicles at a distance of 2,200 metres, looks like T-90s and BRDMs,” came the voice of his gunner over the intercom.
“Right. You know the drill, gentlemen. Prepare for firing. Gunner. Target. Mine plough. Distance 2250. On. After that, fire at will. I need to keep an eye on our company.”
The gunner locked the gun on the designated target and he and his Kommandant went through the rest of the procedure.
Zwanzig chose the company’s frequency from the touch screen display and announced, “All stations, this is Six. Prepare for firing. On my signal, unleash hell. Out.” Another pop culture reference. He just could not help it.
Throughout the fourteen MBTs of his company – and all other panzer companies of the covering force – the loaders made sure one APFSDS round was loaded into the breech, they held another round at the ready and balanced a third with the butt plate on one boot and the tungsten carbide penetrator wedged between their knees or thighs. The ammunition racks were kept open, so the fourth round could be snatched out and rammed into the breech without impediment.
The practice was very unsafe and officially very forbidden by Heer regulations, but secretly encouraged. Every loader since the founding of the Bundeswehr’s Panzertruppe had been taught this technique which enabled the more nimble loaders and a good gunner to let loose four rounds of aimed fire in a bit less than twelve seconds, if the gunner - or the commander - were on the ball acquiring a new target in that time. It was a bit like a “mad minute” in the infantry, but with 120mm guns instead of rifles. After that, the rate of fire would be naturally reduced to a more sedate eight or ten rounds a minute, depending upon if the tank was moving during reloading or not. And if the loader could manage to get at the 24 rounds of 120mm stashed in the ammunition compartment to the front and left of his platform.
“Okay. Heads up, here we go...2100…2050. Auf erkanntes Ziel…”, he triggered the company voice circuit, “FIRE. FIRE. FIRE.” A whole tank company, in concert with the rest of its battalion, firing its main guns in near unison was a picture for the ages. The APFSDS darts, freed from their sabots after leaving the barrels, flew downrange and effectively obliterated almost forty Soviet armoured vehicles in the blink of an eye.
The gunner in Zwanzig’s tank shouted “TARGET!”, signalling that the enemy tank had been destroyed.
Below him, the loader was already moving. He subconsciously listened for the clang of the spent butt plate in the wire basket behind the breech, rammed the next cartridge home, closed the breech, turned out of its recoil path and shouted “UP!”. He then bent down and snatched up the next cartridge from between his knees. The gunner had in the meantime already selected the next target, a T-90 with extra aerials. He triggered the targeting laser, waited for the firing solution to be computed and finally fired the gun, shouting “ON THE WAY!” The loader and gunner were good. Almost exactly four seconds had elapsed between the first and second shot.
The first salvo of the defenders had revealed their position to the attackers. Artillery rounds and fire from main battle tanks began to impact on and around their lines. Zwanzig felt his tank rock on its suspension from a 152mm grenade detonating fifty metres away. Enemy motor riflemen deployed from their APCs and IFVs.
Thanks to the almost fourteen days of pre-warning, the defenders had had ample time to prepare the initial battlefield. From a series of trenches and foxholes, Panzergrenadiers’ MG3s mounted on tripod mounts in the HMG role and equipped with Hensoldt 4x24 periscopic sights began to fire at a distance of almost 2,000 yards, nach alter Väter Sitte. They mowed down enemy infantry in the crossfire and more importantly disrupting their deployment from their IFVs and them forming up into a coherent fighting force. The only difference to what the grandfathers of the machine gunners had had sixty years before was that the periscopes were equipped with clip-on night vision and the caliber was somewhat weaker.
CLANG!
The whole tank shook as a 125mm AP dart glanced off Majestik Møøse’s turret armour, penetrating the wedge armor, yawing a few degrees, thus not being able to penetrate the turret armor. Zwanzig was only saved from a head injury thanks to the paddet crewman’s helmet he was wearing. Nevertheless, he bonked himself a good one on the interior of the turret.
“Autsch! Scheiße! Damage report!”, Zwanzig shouted and rubbed his head with one hand. The crew quickly went through the immediate damage check list everybody had memorized.
“The targeting laser is out of focus. Looks like something that cannot be fixed with field-expedient means. The Inst [4] is behind the canal,” the gunner reported. “Right. Gunner, do your best without the laser.” Zwanzig had all confidence in his gunner, a Feldwebel who was the best shot with a tank gun in the whole battalion.
The enemy now was closing in on the invisible 1,000-metre line and the incoming fire became a lot more precise. The captain registered that two of his tanks went out of action on the space of less than ten seconds.
There. Orders from Battalion arrived, retreat to VZL Sperber. Zwanzig sent on the order to his somewhat shrunken company and also repeated it on the voice circuit. The company fired off their smoke canisters and began to leapfrog backwards to their new defensive line.
As Zwanzig typed out the movement report, West German artillery began to fall among the ranks of the advancing Soviet tanks and infantry. The West Germans kept up intermittent fire as they moved backwards, utilizing folds and rises in the ground as a means to shield themselves from enemy fire as much as possible. Hauptmann Zwanzig heard his gunner utter some very powerful curses under his breath since it proved to be nearly impossible to put aimed fire on target while moving across rough terrain.
He glanced at the BMS display. Only a few hundred metres more.
Then he knew no more. A Soviet APFSDS dart in a freak feat of accuracy penetrated into the gap between gun mantlet and turret armour on the commander’s side, burrowed through whatever armour was left, killed Hauptmann Zwanzig and briefly knocked out his gunner. The ammunition rack in the rear of the turret was empty which save the vehicle from suffering a sympathetic detonation. Thanks to being on his knees fishing for another DM 53 round in the forward ammunition compartment, the loader was completely unharmed except for a litte accident in his tanker’s coveralls.
“Scheiße. Was ist passiert?” The driver shouted over the intercom, keeping up the maximum possible speed backwards. His eyes were glued to the rear camera display.
The loader, an Obergefreiter, looked up and around and beheld the horror. He felt his gorge rise and barely managed to keep it down. The captain was simply gone from the belt buckle upwards, with his blood and viscera sprayed across the complete interior of the turret. The young draftee could make out a piece of face with a whole ear attached. He lost the fight against his stomach and added to the impromptu Jackson Pollock display.
“Somebody talk to me. What happened?”
The loader mentally shook himself and answered, “The boss is gone. The Feldwebel is still there and…”, he checked, “…alive. Keep going. As long as we can move, we ain’t dead yet.”
At the same time, about 1,200 metres to the east, the T-90 responsible for the hit in turn brewed up thanks to a tantalum EFP from a SMArt 155 skeet penetrating the roof armour of the MBT and igniting the ammunition left in the autoloader’s carrousel. The turret went for low Earth orbit on a plume of fire.
The next in command to captain Zwanzig, a First Lieutenant holding the post of Kompanieeinsatzoffizier[3], realized that the command tank was incommunicado and kept going even after the new line of defence had been reached. He typed in a command into the BMS, informing the company and Battalion that he was taking over command. The rest of the company kept fighting and killing, taking a heavy toll from the attackers.
The driver of the KIA West German company CO’s Leopard 2, or what was left of it, put the pedal to the metal and barely managed to get the tank behind a slight rise where he turned the tank 180 degrees and raced towards the designated crossing point under the Elbe-Seitenkanal and the regrouping and aid area a short distance behind it.
Behind them, the battle for West Germany raged on. The survivors and unwounded of the crew were later amalgamated with another bunch of survivors into a new tank crew and an hour after arriving at the regrouping area were in combat again.
[1] Verzögerungslinie (abbr: VZL), lit.: Delaying Line. Phase Line in US Army-speak.
[2] Every prepared obstacle in West Germany was integrated into the artillery’s firing plans
[3] Lit. Company Operations Officer, second in command to the company CO
[4] Inst, short hand for Instandsetzung, bureaucratese for repair units
statistics: Posted by Muschelschubser — 12:47 PM - 1 day ago — Replies 2 — Views 61