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

bythe spirits of our fallen comrades, by our fathers who were denied victory inthe last War, and by the hopes of our Fatherland.’

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At 1445 hours the advance of over one hundred Panzer tanks beganto the sound of artillery from both sides shelling one another. Manfred glancedat Werner. His were darting everywhere with every sound from the outside. Thisdid little to quell the pounding of Manfred’s heart. Fischer’s body was tensedover the wireless like a cat about to pounce. Peters was quiet. There wasnothing more to say. What happened now would owe as much to fate as fortitude.

The thunder of explosions grew louder. Manfred began to sense theground was trembling for reasons not just to do with the motion of the tank.This was different from anything he’d experienced before. The intensity of thebombardment made the air crackle like a separate presence in the tank.

Peters was now yelling into the mic. Manfred immediately snappedthe breech open and loaded the first round. Werner shot Manfred a look andwinked. This made Manfred grin. Fear evaporated at that moment. Manfred’s mind,body and emotions coalesced into the act of performing a single task: loading shells.

Billowing black smoke rolled across the desert obscuring Manfred’soccasional glances through the periscope. Momentarily, light reappeared toreveal they were now almost amongst the enemy. Debris fell like rain. Manfredsaw a small flag waving to the side of them. It seemed familiar. Then it cameto him. These were South Africans. Manfred remembered the men who had brieflytaken them prisoner. Hard men. He cast aside any more thoughts and returned toloading.

Manfred glanced down at the driver, Lang. He was aware that thetank had been zig-zagging for a while now. Lang was drenched in sweat andsteering like a racing driver. Manfred felt a shockwave as one explosion rockedthe side of the tank. Shards of metal sang against the tank like malevolenthailstones.

Werner laughed nervously.

‘Bit close.’

The dull boom of field guns sides beat out a regular rhythm; thecrack and whine of shot followed by explosions merged into one for Manfred.However, they were making progress. Manfred saw one Allied two pound anti-tankgun after another destroyed.

‘Hand me some grenades,’ ordered Peters.

Manfred handed up two to the lieutenant. Moments later he poppedhis head through the cupola and threw one then another before diving backinside to cover.

Then the tank stopped.

‘What’s wrong?’ shouted Peters.

‘I don’t know,’ replied Lang. There was more than a hint of panicin his voice. The engine hadn’t stalled. Something was blocking them on theground.

Peters glanced down at Manfred.

‘Go outside with Fischer and see what’s wrong.’

After you, thought Manfred as the tank absorbed yet more gunfire.

‘Yes sir,’ said Manfred. In a moment he grabbed a grenade and wasducking down into the hull to boot open the hatch. Fischer removed hisheadphones and followed Manfred whispering curses or prayers. Manfred couldn’tdecide which.

Outside the tank the air was cooler than he’d imagined it wouldbe. Cordite-filled smoke stung both their eyes. The noise of battle had adifferent quality in the open air. It felt fresh and real in a way that wasdifferent when experienced from the interior of the tank. Manfred’s head wasswimming with adrenaline and fear. He saw Fischer pointing to the front of thetank. They made their way along the ground inch by inch. Bullets threw up dust.

 A quick inspection of the front revealed no blockage. Insteadthey saw the dead bodies of South African strewn like autumn leaves. Germaninfantry were now mixed in with the South Africans but there was no time toview the fighting. Around at the other side of the tank they saw the problem.An unexploded shell had become wedged in the tracks. The two boys looked at oneanother.

‘What the hell do we do now? asked Manfred.

‘Do you really want to know?’

‘No,’ replied Manfred moving towards the shell. They both examinedit. It was wedged between the wheel and the track. ‘If Lang were to reversehalf a metre then one of us could pull it out.’

Fischer nodded and looked at Manfred. The same question in bothboys’ eyes. Who would direct Lang and who would remove the unexploded bomb?Manfred grinned at the same moment as Fischer. It was madness.

‘Quick, tell Lang to reverse,’ said Manfred. Fischer nodded anddisappeared around the back of the tank.

The ground seemed to pulse around Manfred as he waited for thetank to move. Oddly, despite the roar of battle, he could hear Fischer yellinginto the tank. Seconds later the tank wheels began to crank. Bit by bit theyrolled backwards. Bone-melting fear gripped Manfred as he reached forward inanticipation of the moment the shell was loosened.

All of sudden the tank backed up a quarter of a metre. Manfredreached into the tracks, hauled out the shell and threw it over his shoulder.He watched it fall ten feet away. It was only then he realised he was stillholding his breath.

Fischer appeared at this moment. Manfred nodded to him. Then hesaw Fischer’s face contort in agony. He fell forward onto the ground. Manfredducked down and grabbed the grenade he’d taken with him. Thirty yards behindFischer he saw a number of South African infantry. The grenade was launcheddirectly at them. As it exploded, Manfred was on his feet immediately andrunning to Fischer. He rolled Fischer over and saw that he was alive but inagony from a shoulder wound.

‘Sorry, my friend,’ said Manfred positioning himself behindFischer. He cupped his arms underneath Fischer’s armpits and began to drag himto the hatch. Fischer’s face was ashen with pain. At the hatch, Manfred felt acouple of arms reach out to help him pull his stricken comrade back into thetank.

Just then Manfred felt a stinging pain in his calf as hot metalshards ripped through his trousers and brushed against his leg. However, withinseconds he was inside the tank and Lang was pulling the hatch door closed.

‘I’m fine,’ said Fischer who looked anything but. Manfred noddedand resumed his position near Werner.

‘Move,’ shouted Peters.

The tank crunched forward again. Peters nodded down to Manfred andthen turned back towards the battle.

‘When you’re ready,’ said Werner.

Manfred reached towards the stack of shells; his moment of heroismforgotten. Survival was now the only thing