On the run.

Well not so much on the run as a phased retreat, done calmly. Ok. Fine. Sure it’s a shit show, if I am being honest with you. As a platoon commander, now acting as a company commander of units from a handful of formations, yeah lets keep it real. Shit show for sure. On a scale of 0-10. We were at elf….11. Yep that bad.

The Soviets have bounced us from town to town, never letting up. Taking massive losses and yet still they come. Seven days as of today. I don’t know who will ever read this, but its got to be said. The Russians are maniacal. Crazy. Even my boys are getting frenzied, when the battle pitch rises.

Now. This storm is weirdly brewing. Its freaking me out, and the crews. I can see the clouds clustering over the township of Grossmetzendorf. Right in the town bloody square. There, lightening! The electric tingle can be felt from here. Surreal. The wind gathers force and the rain begins to fall. The storm spreads…out of the town square. Crazy weather pattern for sure.

Well anyway the Russians are coming and this is going to be bad. Nothing to do though. Except shoot them before they shoot us. Looking down range from our vantage point on the hill in Oberhaus we can see tanks flitting in the distance along the paths. Then, an opportunity! ‘Oh, damn! Gunner 3000m, on the road dead ahead 6 tanks. SABOT UP!’ Yeah, that’s my mantra, ‘take the shots when you got ’em’ , Lord knows we need to kill them at range.

“All tanks, fire at will.” I let the rest of the lads know, its game on time.

As the Abrams rocks backwards and the huge gout of flame explodes from the barrel a sense of calm falls upon me. Focused. Yeah, lets forget that storm. Kill Russkies. That’s why we are here. “Hit them lads, Gunner adjust 3 degrees. Fire. Next target. Lets go.”.

The battlenet sparks up, “Incoming”. Shit arty. Shells rain around us but not on us. We dodged a bullet that time. 120’s and 152s will ruin a tankers day with a direct hit.

‘Sir, kill, reloading, adjusting 2900m, 12 degrees. Away.”. Boom another hit. A mere 3 seconds later the turret is blown sky high as armor collapses and APFSDS rounds stored all around the frame of the T-80 cook off.

In less than 2 minutes we have cook 6 tanks. Across our thin, no. REALLY thin line, guns take targets out. Smoke roils the sky. The storm strangely draws my attention again. Damn, its almost as if each enemy tank that explodes makes that damn lightening more fierce.

The rain comes down harder, and the cloud begins to envelope our site. Comms drop. ‘Driver. What is going on? Move us out of this weather, we have lost the vision. No thermals nothing. ‘

The tanks of the enemy seem to be slowing. Weaving through sparse woods. Finding trails, and paths. As I lose sight of them I see the long line of tanks 60, well now its 54 Tanks advancing in echelon. Then we are black. Nothing.

Minutes pass.

I can barely hear the thud and boom of our guns, and thankfully no return fire. Too far for those sitting ducks.

Comms pops back on. Higher command wants to know whats going on? Really. More of the usual. More and a never ending stream on enemy tanks. While pointless to ask, as I’ve been denied CAS every day all day for 7 days straight. I ask anyway, ‘can we get some air support here, I got 60 tanks closing in on us?’ Moments go by. Send the co-ordinates is the answer! Oh my God. Indeed there is a God. I punch the data through, and mere minutes later, that gorgeous sound of A10’s and their 20mm cannons assault my ears! Beautiful. Must have been on station near by!

We never get air support, so that is what we call a win. Maybe we will live to fight another day?

Their arty shifts fire missions and covers their tanks belated in multi spectral smoke. No more lasing those targets. Time to do it the old fashioned way.

Once again, I given them credit, the Soviets try to run the gully gap. We brew up more of their number. If we can hold them a bit longer, we might be able to break their will to die in droves. Then we can move back to the next phase line and refit.

The wind howls, trees are exploding from the lightening. Billowing up in a vicious circle high into the sky, while rain lashes our tank so hard I have to button down. Hail beats a tattoo like a drum on our hull. We drive South towards Grossmetzendorf, as the storm rages Northward. We have get eyes and guns on target!

My boys are holding their own. But this weather could let the Russians sneak by or worse close to kill range. This may get worse before it gets better as the raging storm now encompasses a several hundred metres, and seems to be growing more fierce every second. The chatter on our radio is getting spooky. I get everyone off channel and impose radio discipline. It’s a storm. We train in this nonsense all the time. As the tanks churn to a stop and slew to face down hill. I focus on finding targets and not the gnawing in my gut. That something is horribly wrong here, and it aint just Russians.