Crusader (A Novel of WWII Tank Warfare) by Jack Murray (best finance books of all time TXT) 📕

What else could they do?It was only by a miracle they’d not been hit. He’d heard Lister’s last message.The news elsewhere suggested Miller had been hit also. He wondered how many ofthe tanks were left. He’d crested the ridge. What he’d see left him in no doubtthey couldn’t possibly hold it. Ahead was the heavily fortified German redoubt.The result of the night-long rumble of noise was now in full view.

Without artillery and infantry support, this attack was destinedto end in failure. Thoughts raced through the mind of Turner as he realised theextent of the overwhelming folly they had embarked upon. It was Balaclava allover again. A charge towards guns. Turner felt a freezing wave of panic passthrough him. What were they to do now that they’d reached the ridge? Thewireless was full of sound, but Turner could hear nothing. It was chatter mixedwith terror. And then the question was answered for him. He heard Aston callingfor them to retreat.

The tank slammed into reverse. They had practiced such a manoeuvreoften. Down the hill incline they raced. Puffs of smoke from the redoubtpreceded explosions in front and to their side. Shell splinters hit the armourplating. Dull metallic clangs reverberated around the compartment. A glance to theright revealed a tank crew scrambling out of the tank hatches as wisps of smokeappeared in the turret.

The battlefield was shrouded in smoke. Blackened burning tanksbore testimony to the battering they had taken. It was a mess, a bloody mess,thought Turner angrily. Then he saw more puffs of smoke in the distance. Hiseye caught a menacing dark shape against the blue sky. Transfixed he watched itfor what seemed like minutes. He wanted to move but his feet were anchored tothe spot. He hoped the shell would pitch up short.

It blew his tank to bits.

-

Reed looked down frantically at Craig. This was not the time fortheir Crusader to prove its unreliability.

‘It might have been a shell,’ shouted Craig. The engine was notresponding. It was dead.

A nearby explosion shook the tank. They had to evacuate the tank.That much was certain. Reed and Danny immediately turned their attention towhat was in front of them.

Danny looked through his periscope. He saw the tank ahead of him haltsuddenly. It erupted into smoke and flames. In the confusion, Danny struggledto remember who was in the tank. Then he saw the turret separate from the tank.It flew twenty feet into the air. With a sickening feeling in the pit of hisstomach he realised the detached turret was heading directly for them.

‘God almighty’ said Reed, who was also aware of the impendingcollision. Holmes looked at Danny.

‘What’s happening?’ shouted Holmes, confused, scared and awaresomething was happening. Something terrible.

‘Duck,’ said Danny. There was no way they could avoid being hit.

Then all went black

 22

15 kilometres south of Sidi Rezegh Airfield, Libya, November 21st,1941

The big sergeant spoke English, but the accent of the soldier wasdifferent from that of Diane Landau, the English girl Manfred had been atschool with nearly ten years earlier before her family fled from Germany. Theman before him could not have been more different. He was big. Very big. EvenManfred found himself looking up at him. The South African had a gun and waspointing it at the three boys. Manfred almost smiled. The gun seemedunnecessary. It would have taken at least three of them to overpower him.

Manfred glanced from the sergeant to the jeep they were travelingin. There was a machine gun mounted on the back of it. The South Africanmanning it seemed to have built on a similar architectural scale. The key thingthat Manfred noticed was that there was no room in the jeep for them to betaken away. He thought it unlikely that the South Africans would want them tosit on their knees.

The November sun was still hot enough to burn Manfred’s skin. Heneeded a hat. Every second’s exposure increased the sense of his skin reddening.The big sergeant was waiting for an answer. Who spoke English? Manfred did. Byadmitting so a number of thoughts went through his mind. It could meansurvival. The South Africans may want to take a prisoner. This could mean interrogationunless they observed the Geneva Convention. He wondered, and then doubted, howmuch his own side were doing so. But admission could mean survival; sitting outthe War, bored and healthy versus risking your life every day for years tocome.

He stayed silent.

They heard a voice from the jeep.

 ‘What do you want to do with them?’

This seemed to jolt the South African awake. He looked at Manfredand the others; a grim smile on his face. The situation was almost absurd.Eight men in the middle of a desert. A questions of life and death swirling inthe airless air.

The South African glanced down at the jerricans which were on theground by the Germans. He motioned with his gun for Manfred and Fischer to stepback. They did so and the sergeant walked forward and lifted one of the cans.It was clearly full. He set it down again and then turned and walked to thejeep. They had a brief conference then the sergeant returned.

He studied the three German men before them. Men? They werechildren. Sergeant Pieter Coetzee had three children. All of them were aroundthe age of the boys before him. But they were at war. There was a job to do.

Kohler was the only one who could not return his gaze. He woulddo. Coetzee stepped forward and put a gun to Kohler’s head.

‘Do you speak English?’ barked Coetzee at Kohler.

‘Nein,’ cried Kohler. He repeated it again. Coetzee believed him.Besides which, he had a feeling about the other two boys. An instinct told himthat one or both could speak English. The key was to get them to admit it. Hehated this war. Hated it with every fibre of his being. It didn’t matterthough. They had to win. He wanted to return to his family in Johannesburg. Thesooner the better.

Keeping his Webley revolver trained on the temple of Kohler, he fixedhis gaze on the Manfred and then Fischer in turn. Cocking the hammer with histhumb he spoke.

‘One of