Chapter 1653 The Sorrow of Fireflies (Part 1)

The armor-piercing shells that were violently fired screamed through the wind, and one British tank after another was sent to the sky and completely torn apart in the huge explosion.

This almost one-sided one-to-many massacre continued. The 007 King Tiger that drove to the top of the hill was like a monster entrenched on the top of a nest cave, constantly devouring lives.

The British armored forces, who had already used all their strength to fight for their lives, opened fire at full power, but the 57mm small water tube main gun of the Cromwell tank was really powerless and could not hurt the monster lying on the top of the hill at all.

Ding Ding Bang Bang --

Crack --

Bang --

The armor-piercing shells that kept coming from all angles were like stones thrown by naughty children, constantly hitting the King Tiger's solid front main armor belt, making a messy sound, making all kinds of sounds, echoing in the car, and never stopping.

It is naturally impossible to say that I didn't feel anything about this sound that sounded bad.

At this moment, whether it was Wittmann, the gunner Wegener, or any of the other three crew members, their nerves were in a state of high concentration and tension, and they dared not be careless at all. They were even more worried that the next armor-piercing shell that flew from nowhere would penetrate the armor and kill everyone in the car.

"How many tanks do the British have left!?"

The gunner Wegener, who focused on aiming, firing, aiming again, and firing again, had already entered a state of full concentration of man and gun. He didn't even have the leisure to adjust the magnification of the main gun sight to see how many British were left waiting for him to kill.

"There are not many left, at most ten or so! Keep firing! Kill them all!"

It was exactly the same as Wittmann had expected. There was no such thing as a shell hitting those British broken cars but failing to penetrate the armor. With Wegener's perfect artillery skills, every firing of the Tiger King foreshadowed the demise of a British tank.

The result of this efficient slaughter was that the number of remaining tanks of the British Army was decreasing rapidly at an alarming speed visible to the naked eye.

Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence, who was almost shocked by the scene in front of him, felt that he was almost stupid. Why couldn't he even deal with this broken German car with the strength of a battalion! ?

If he had known that the front of this thing was so strong and indestructible, he would have ordered the troops to outflank it and break it from the side and rear with the advantage of numbers. If he did so, the loss might be much smaller.

In this case, why not do it now? Don't the British armored forces have the advantage of numbers now?

Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence also thought about it, and he could even say that he was crazy about it.

But the result that made people despair was that a large number of British tank wreckages, turrets that were blown off, hull fragments that were shattered by the explosion of ammunition, and even engines that had blown out of the power compartment were all scattered around, blocking the road into the village, which was not wide enough and could only accommodate one tank in one direction.

The remaining British tanks were completely helpless even if they wanted to move. Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence saw with his own eyes that a Cromwell was stuck between the wreckage of the two vehicles in front and behind, unable to charge or reverse. After trying back and forth twice, it was still stuck.

Before the unlucky Cromwell could make a third attempt, the German monster tank with a main gun like a fishing rod opened fire. With an armor-piercing bullet so fast that even the afterimage could not be seen, the poor Cromwell was pierced from head to tail, and the super-small turret that squeezed two people felt suffocated was raised high in one breath.

Cromwell can't deal with the monster of the Germans at all! At least not at this distance.

Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence, who had already made a judgment in his heart, picked up the radio transmitter at hand again. What he had to do next would be his last hope or life-saving straw in the current predicament. Whether he could survive this level depends on the reply of the other side.

"I am Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence of the 4th London Regiment of the 22nd Brigade. Anyone in the village who heard the news had better get out and support! The Germans ambushed us with a monster tank outside the village. I need the most powerful tank! Send those fireflies to me. I know you have them. Hurry!"

In the current British armored forces, there is such a head-changing and stitched monster tank with a "British head and an American body", comparable to the Skunk Kaylu. But the British 17-pound main gun it is equipped with is the most powerful one. It is said that there is no German tank that cannot be penetrated by this new main gun. This is the British "Firefly" medium tank modified based on the chassis of the American Sherman tank.

Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence knew clearly that the vanguard troops stationed in the village had a group of powerful Firefly medium tanks. Although there are not many, I heard that there are only a few, but even if there are only a few, at least they can deal with the monster of the Germans in front of them, paralyze them or even injure them, and force them to retreat, as long as they can resolve the crisis in front of them.

Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence's hoarse roar was not in vain, and a clear reply came from the other end of the radio soon.

"We are on the way. We have sent tanks and support troops to meet you, sir! Please hold on, support will be here soon."

"Then you'd better hurry up, otherwise you will be charged with not saving people from death!"

Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence threw down the radio transmitter and placed all his bets on the fireflies, imagining that as soon as the fireflies arrived, he could immediately blow the German monster in front of him to pieces and kill him on the spot.

So will the upcoming reality really be like this?

Facts have once again proved that the unreasonable and ruthless reality is often much worse than the expected situation. The truth that the greater the expectation, the greater the disappointment is always applicable.

Wittmann has been paying attention to the direction of the village entrance. Even if the battle in front of him is fierce, he has to turn his head slightly from time to time and glance at the village entrance to prevent accidents.

Wittmann knew clearly that the group of British who were being pressed to the ground and killed indiscriminately would most likely call for reinforcements. The closest and only force that could quickly reinforce them was the unknown number of British pioneers in the village.

When the first Firefly medium tank lurched out of the village, sticking out its slender 17-pound gun barrel and the front half of the tank, Wittmann, who had never let down his guard, saw this scene at the first moment, and blurted out the order in less than two seconds of thinking.