El Alamein by Jack Murray (spanish books to read .TXT) 📗

‘Brehme,’ said Basler.

Manfred gazed through his telescopic sight. Basler confirmed his own calculation that they were now two and a half thousand metres separating the two sides. More explosions split the air around the tank. One after another the Panzers were hit. One erupted into flame. Bits of plate exploded outwards.

More blasts ripped around them like a firework display. The tank rocked back and forth. The sound deafened them. Manfred ducked instinctively then the shelling stopped momentarily. Manfred looked around. Kiel was staring up at them. There was a strange look on his face. Manfred frowned then turned to Basler.

‘Sir?’ said Manfred. He looked up. Basler was no longer standing. He seemed to be half slumped against the hatch. Manfred leapt up and pulled Basler down. Half his lower jaw was missing.

He was dead.

Manfred and Kleff stared at the dead body. Jentz, unaware of what had happened, was shouting to them.

‘Aren’t we firing at them?’

Kiel turned around. His eyes widened in shock. He touched Jentz’s arm. The driver frowned and then followed the wild eyes of Kiel towards the fallen lieutenant.

‘My God,’ said Jentz.

‘Kleff, you take over at the gun. Kiel, you load,’ said Manfred immediately. There wasn’t time to mourn Basler. Manfred took Basler’s position at the hatch. He put his head through just as another explosion nearby rocked the tank. They were now past another derelict tank. Less than a couple of kilometres away, he could see a hundred or more enemy tanks. He crouched back inside and removed something from Basler’s hand. He stared at the binoculars. A wave of sadness passed through him.

They were wet with Basler’s blood.

-

‘Was that you?’ asked Benson watching one of the approaching Panzers erupt into flame.

‘Yes, sir,’ replied Danny. The shot had been a direct hit from nearly two thousand yards.

‘Good shot,’ said Benson. ‘It’s going to get sticky…’

The first explosions began to crash around them drowning out the captain’s chance to finish the sentence. Gouts of desert shot upwards like malign fountains. The intensity of machine gun fire increased. The tank felt like it was in the middle of a hail hurricane.

‘They’re on our flanks, too,’ warned Benson but noted Danny was already traversing right to deal with the fire coming from the right. This was possible even on the side gun, but the degree of traverse was severely limited.

Green and red tracer fire split the air between the two sides. Much of it harmlessly bouncing off the tank. But the German tanks were beginning to find their range with the big guns.

Danny saw one tank split in two as the turret flew upwards: a horrible reminder of the death of Sergeant Reed and Lieutenant Turner. Danny’s tank pushed on past the destroyed tank. There could be no stopping. No one would have survived such an explosion. Just ahead, another tank erupted into flames, but a couple of men escaped from the hatch at the side. They were gunned down. Danny’s eyes widened in shock. This was the first time he’d seen this. Rage gripped him. They would pay.

‘Armour piercing,’ ordered Danny.

Benson was back on the intercom, this time to the second gunner, Archie Andrews, ‘Eight hundred yards, Andrews, get ready to fire.’

Archie Andrews fired his first round just as Danny launched the first of his AP shells.

‘Both short,’ said Benson. There was a trace of irritation in his voice. Fear, too. In a matter of a few minutes the two cavalry charges would meet. The more of the enemy they could kill the better chance they would have.

PG was now slaloming around destroyed tanks. This made life a little more difficult for Danny and Andrews. Danny could understand the natural inclination of anyone to avoid being hit. The constant twisting and turning was interfering with their ability to damage the wave of death approaching them.

Benson saw the problem immediately and said, ‘Wodehouse, straight ahead. Give Andrews and Shaw a chance.’

The crash of explosions and the screech of tanks was now deafening. They were seconds away from chaotic intermingling.  In fact, they were being hit from three sides. Tanks were on their left flank as well as their right. Ahead lay the big anti-tank guns and field artillery.

How was anyone supposed to get through this?

-

It was Manfred’s tank now. Thoughts of Basler gone. He looked at the scene ahead. Utter carnage and the battle had barely begun. Begun? Re-started. It had been going on for hours. But this was the critical point now. The Afrika Korps were throwing everything at the Allies. Both the 15th and the 21st Panzer divisions were fighting to halt the Allied advance: all remaining operable tanks. If this didn’t halt them, then it was over.

Oily black smoke drifted in front of him; its harsh smell made him feel nauseous. His eyes caught two Allied tank men rolling around on the sand trying to extinguish flames. It was horribly compelling and, for the men concerned, utterly futile.

Kleff was pumping out shells at a regular clip.

‘Aim for tanks in the second and third rows,’ ordered Manfred. They would be through the first row in under a minute now. Just in front he saw a large crater that may have been the result of several anti-tank shell explosions.

“Jentz, do you see the crater?’

‘Heading for it now,’ replied the driver, who immediately began to downshift and slow down.

‘Kleff, lower elevation when we dig in.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Kleff instinctively.

The tide of Allied tanks had turned to face the flank attack. It was pressing inexorably towards them.

‘We’ll need cover to our right,’ said Manfred. ‘Aim for the Grant at two o’clock but hold fire until it looks like it’s going to fire at us. I want it closer.’

Kleff glanced up at Manfred. This was a risky game for a young man to be playing. It also left them exposed to tanks on their left. But there were other Panzer tanks who could deal with them.

Hopefully.

Kleff knew that hope was not a great strategy in