Chapter 1217 Giant Cannonball

Wenke is the loader of the Bachman crew. In addition to loading shells, he is also responsible for miscellaneous tasks, such as repairing cars, carrying shells, and even cleaning cars. Although other people come to help him from time to time, Wenke does it himself in most cases.

Fortunately, Wenke is a relatively honest young man, and he has no complaints about these dirty and tiring jobs.

Before joining the army, Wenke was a lumberjack in a local logging yard in Bavaria. In addition to logging for his job, he also likes to do photography, which seems to be something he shouldn't have a hobby.

Taking pictures of the birds and flowers he encounters in his daily work and life is his favorite thing to do. Occasionally, he can be selected by local magazines or newspapers to serve as illustrations for articles or even the front page cover. Every time this happens, Wenke feels the happiest, which proves that everything he does and his hobbies are meaningful.

Later, he met his childhood friend Bachmann. Unable to resist Bachmann's recommendation, he threw down his chainsaw and axe and ran to sign up for the SS. According to the selection requirements of the Wehrmacht, Wenk actually did not meet the standards for joining the army. He was a little too old, and there were many younger guys waiting in line behind him.

But the SS was short of manpower and the organization was expanding rapidly like a balloon. With Bachmann's introduction, he was as stable as an old dog. After a physical examination and a thorough investigation of his ancestry, Wenk was labeled as a "pure German" and joined the Second Imperial Division, one of the three elite divisions of the Waffen SS. He did not forget to bring his favorite camera with him.

Hearing Bachmann asking for a camera, Wenk, who was holding an MP40 submachine gun, was stunned for a moment, and then waved his hands at Bachmann.

"It's in the car. I didn't bring it with me. Do you want it now?"

"Then go back and get it! We are in a hurry, hurry up!"

"Okay then."

Looking at Wink's back as he ran back to the tank, Buckman, who was determined to go in and take a look, grabbed the car body with his right hand, stepped on the road wheel with his left foot and jumped up. He jumped onto this unprecedented heavy tank in an instant, and quietly stuck his head out to see if there was any danger or movement in the several dilapidated houses on the other side of the turret.

"Buckman, hey, Buckman! Be careful, there may be no Russians in the car!"

The gunner, who felt that Buckman was probably crazy, stood under the car and gave a warning in a low voice. Buckman, who felt that there was no big problem, came straightforwardly. He climbed directly to the top of the turret without saying a word, and jumped directly into the hatch that was wide open.

"Huh, the Russian heavy tank is so narrow! It's just like the T34!"

The moment he got into the tank, the first feeling Buckman had was that it was so crowded.

Unfamiliar with the internal furnishings and space capacity, Buckman's left elbow almost hit the giant breech block next to him. If it hit hard, it would definitely hurt. If it didn't cut off a layer of skin, it would be bruised and swollen for several days.

Thankfully, Buckman raised his head and looked around, like Granny Liu entering the Grand View Garden, looking around with curiosity at this feeling he had never experienced before. The first thing that caught his attention was naturally the huge breech block next to him.

"Damn, what caliber is this main gun?"

At a glance, Buckman felt that the size of the huge breech block in front of him was at least twice the size of the breech block of his own Black Panther tank.

It may be a bit exaggerated to describe it this way, but the breech block is really huge!

Buckman stretched out his hand and tried to put his clenched fist on the rear of the breech block. He found that even if his fist was twice as big, the shell loading port at the rear of the breech block could still fit, and there was even plenty of extra space.

Thinking of the terrible rumors that had been widely circulated before, combined with the unprecedented scene in front of him, Buckman shook his head and felt that the things made by the Russians could always subvert his cognition and imagination.

"It's really too big! With such a large caliber shell, aren't their loaders human?"

Tank loaders are not as easy as artillerymen. Loading shells in a narrow tank is a laborious and skill-testing job.

Buckman felt that it was already very difficult for Wink to load shells on weekdays. If Wink, a strong man who was born as a lumberjack, was loaded with more than ten rounds of 75mm fixed shells in a row and at high intensity, he would be so tired that he would pant like a dog sticking out his tongue.

The Russians put such an amazing cannon on their heavy tanks. How terrible a loader would be needed to load the shells to be competent for this job? Or have the Russians found a way to tame black bears as loaders?

"That's crazy. I have to measure it with a ruler."

The tape measure that is sometimes used for car repairs has now become a tool for measuring the breech block. Buckman did this not to satisfy his curiosity, but purely out of consideration that these key data may be used in the future.

After all, even if he doesn't understand or guess the details of the Russian main gun, there must be people in the rear who can understand it. It's never difficult to find out the detailed data of the opponent's new equipment.

He took out a ruler and measured the four corners of the famous breech block carefully, and then recorded the measured data in the palm-sized notebook he carried with him.

Bachman, who was leaning against the cold turret wall and writing with a pencil in his hand, noticed the shell collection box under the rear of the breech block at his feet. The box was filled with more than a dozen giant propellant cartridges that could scare people's eyes off.

"Oh my God, is this a shell from a howitzer? This is crazy! I must take pictures of them all later!"

After gesturing at the breech block, the next thing was the ammunition rack. Buckman, who held the pencil and notebook in his left hand, raised his right hand to fiddle with the first ammunition rack at the rear of the turret. Each of the remaining large bullets on it was larger than a kettle!

Bachman, who wanted to experience it himself, put the pencil and notebook on the commander's seat on the side, reached out to unlock the fixed lock of the bullet, and carefully rolled down a bullet to try to hold it in his arms and feel the weight.

It didn't matter that he hugged it. Buckman just felt like he was holding a big lump of lead in his hand. He almost lost his grip and the bullet hit his foot without sufficient strength.

Buckman swore that the weight of the bullet in his hand must be more than 20 kilograms. If he lost his grip and hit his foot, he would be sent to the hospital and become a cripple.

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