Chapter 1216 No. 177

The flying artillery fire was about to set the whole village on fire. Artillery shells and bullets were in unlimited supply in this purgatory-like battlefield.

The fragile human body of flesh and blood could be killed if not careful. Even the heavy armored vehicles with steel and iron bones had to be cautious in this two square kilometers of fierce fighting. The ubiquitous enemy tanks could fire a fatal blow at any time, taking the lives of all the people in the car in the strong ammunition explosion flames.

This was especially true for the SS armored soldiers whose equipment quality was far inferior to that of their opponents, and they had to be careful.

A Panther tank numbered 401 drove carefully on a village path. The yellow and green summer camouflage paint made this Panther with many battle scars look like an alternative but beautiful war machine aesthetic.

The turret cover that was swung open was pushed aside and in an open state. The Panther tank commander, who had two tanks hanging around his neck, stuck his head out of the car. This was naturally very dangerous in the close combat environment in the village where bullets were flying, but Buckman himself felt that this danger was far less than the probability of being hit by a Russian tank due to poor detection.

Dada Dada——

Bang Bang Bang——

"Hide! The Russians are ambushing! Hide quickly!"

The sudden sound of light weapons exchange made Buckman, who was highly focused, shrink his head suddenly. After listening to the sound to confirm that the bullet was not fired at him, he stuck the upper part of his head out again and quickly issued an order after finding out the situation.

"At 1 o'clock, 300 meters away, there is a wooden house on the roadside, and there is a room full of Russians! High-explosive bombs are loaded!"

"Loading completed!"

"Aimed!"

"Fire!"

Boom--

The power of the 75-caliber high-explosive bomb is nothing compared to the 122mm bomb, but it has a devastating killing power for the most basic protective fortifications such as wooden bunkers, which is obviously enough.

The muzzle of the gun shook and a flash of fire appeared. The 75mm high-explosive grenade that was quickly ejected from the barrel instantly raised dust and debris with a loud bang, stirring up the dust of the explosion shock wave on the ground.

Looking at the wooden house fragments, small stones, and dirt falling from the sky like raindrops, Buckman, who was pressing the throat transmitter, let go of his right hand and breathed a sigh of relief. This was the thirteenth small house occupied by Russians that it had destroyed by firing on this small road in the village, which was not the main attack route. God knows why these Russians were so crazy and persistent.

"Okay, the target is solved, let's move on! Make sure the infantry can keep up with our speed."

The No. 401 Panther tank spewed out a burst of black smoke from the engine exhaust and restarted again. The SS soldiers who were hit by the sudden bullets and screamed like rabbits also flashed out of their hiding bunkers, tightened their weapons more vigilantly, and united around the only remaining Panther tank to continue to carry out the task of moving forward.

None of the five SS armored soldiers in the car spoke, and all of them were doing their own jobs in a highly tense state. Even the loader took advantage of this gap in the battle to move the shells that were a little far away and inconvenient to use from the chassis of the vehicle to a position that was more within his reach, so that they could be quickly reloaded and needed in case of a sudden outbreak of battle.

Just as the tank passed the corner of the road ahead, Buckman, who was still looking to the left of the intersection to watch out for an enemy ambush, suddenly heard a strange cry from the gunner.

"Oh! Damn it! Russian heavy tanks, armor-piercing shells, armor-piercing shells! Quickly load armor-piercing shells!"

The quick-reacting gunner was the first to shout, and the driver who followed closely behind also witnessed the scene in front of him and was also scared.

"Stop, I stop! Quickly fire and kill that Russian!"

"Armor-piercing shells are good!"

"Wait, stop! Don't fire!!!"

At the last moment before the main gun was about to fire, Buckman, who had a better field of vision and turned his head quickly, stopped his crew members from wasting precious armor-piercing shells in a panic.

"It's an abandoned Russian tank. The tracks are broken and all the covers are open. Look carefully next time."

Buckman has never encountered an enemy who opened all the hatches and pretended to be dead to ambush others when the tracks were broken.

His keen battlefield intuition told Buckman that he would not do that this time.

There was not much time to waste on the battlefield where the war was raging and the situation was urgent. Buckman, who was frightened for a moment after a false alarm, was about to order to move forward, but he could not move his eyes away from that unintentional sidelong glance.

"Something is wrong. This is not an ordinary Russian tank! It looks like..."

Above the wide and tilted body is an irregular curved turret that looks like it has been flattened. The front turret layout and the large-angle tilted upper armor plate design of the body make Buckman's most intuitive feeling at first glance is "What a big T34"!

Of the three elite SS Panzer divisions deployed at Prokhorovka, the Reich was the last to engage Malashenko and the one with the least battlefield contact, but that didn't mean Bachmann hadn't heard of some of the more widespread and bizarre battlefield rumors.

The new Russian heavy tanks that were described as demons and wandered around the battlefield were still fresh in people's memory. Buckman relied on his intuition and felt that the opportunity in front of him was rare! The strong curiosity and impulse were like a crazy fountain that could not be suppressed.

"Hey! Wait! Buckman, what are you going to do?"

When the crew members who were a little slower reacted, Buckman, as the commander, had already picked up his MP40 submachine gun for self-defense, and jumped out of the turret with a kick on the top cover seat ring. No one knew what their commander was going to do without even saying a word.

"Damn it! Is this guy crazy!? Hurry up and follow him with a gun, hurry up!"

The battlefield in front of them, where a fierce battle had just broken out not long ago, was obviously late for Buckman and his group and fell into relative silence, but this did not mean that there were no enemy eyes around them, peeking and preparing for an ambush.

The other four crew members who had to protect the commander had to pick up their weapons and hurriedly get off the car, following Buckman to go crazy.

"Buckman, you bastard! Are you crazy? What's the difference between leaving the tank and seeking death!?"

The gunner, holding the submachine gun tightly in his hand, leaned against the abandoned enemy tank wreckage and sought cover, but Buckman, who arrived one step ahead, was like a demon at this moment, reaching out to touch the turret side armor of the heavy tank in front of him that he had never seen before. Every scratch of the unpenetrated shells on it was so clear and complete, and it was presented in front of him, attracting attention.

"177, its number is 177! It looks like a command vehicle!"

"I have to go in and take a look, it must be important! Wenk, where is your camera!?"

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