A Longer War 3

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CHAPTER 3
“Ginge, Ernie, I want you sharp, now. One of those buggers did half the Fifth in. We’re not going to get a shot at his arse, but we can smash a roadwheel or two, Trouble is, he gets a shot on and we’re brown bread”

There was a mutter from Wilf. “Bloody well toasted!”

Bob was terse. “Not now, son. Ginge, what we’re going to do is have a pop at his turret ring. You’ve got the eye, told you that already. We get his turret jammed, we can shoot up his tracks and stop the bastard. Harry, that’s a one-shot game. I want you in reverse, and if Ginge doesn’t get him, I want us out of here as quick as you like. Ernie, whether he gets the bull or not, I want another round of AP in there straight away. Ready lads?”

To be honest, I wasn’t ready for anything but bailing out and running for the beach, but there were infantry scuttling through the wheat that stood tall the other side of the hedge. Our lads were hitting them back, but there was nothing they could do about the Tiger. As I watched, an A.P. round struck his glacis and flew off at an angle. His turret turned away from my sight, and I heard once more the shattering crack of his main armament. Bob was at my shoulder.

“Quick as you like, Ginge”

I worked the sight round to the back of his turret, where there was an odd box attached, different to the recognition books and charts back home. Ernie’s call was sharp.

“Clear!”

Once more our tank rocked backwards, and almost as soon as the recoil had been recovered Ernie’s hand slapped my shoulder and I got a second round off. I could see sparks fly off this one, where the first shot had simply flown away towards the sun.

Bob was praying softly. “Harry, out of here after the next shot. Ginge, front left sprocket. Can you see it?”

I could, and I hit it. The monster had just reversed his left track to turn his weapon towards us, and I saw broken track spill forward before it stalled in place.

“DRIVER REVERSE NOW!”

I cracked my head on the sight as we went, and when I recovered my position I could see nothing but trees. There was another explosion before us, and then two more, measured in tempo, before something I can only compare to a sudden downpour in a thunderstorm. Bob was breathing heavily, and swearing softly until the barrage finished.

“They didn’t get that Godfrey bloke, then. Thank god for the guns. Harry…”

I realised Bob was trembling, his voice betraying his fear, but he was still calm in his delivery.

“Boys, I’m off out for a shufty. Nothing’s come back at us, and certainly not from that big bastard. Nicely done, Ginge, Ernie. But I said one shot”

I tried to sound self-assured. “We had time, Bob”

“Only cause some other daft bugger took a shot, boy. Anyway, soonest out, soonest buttoned up again. Won’t be long”

He was three minutes out of the vehicle, and straight onto the net when he returned.

“Sunray, Sunray, Bravo Seven One”

“Go ahead, Seven One”

He gave a map reference. “We have two Tigers abandoned, one with its track off. I can see two more in the village, but one is missing its turret and the other is actually on its back. There…”

He paused. “We will need a replacement F.A.O.”

“Not in clear please, Seven One”

“Sorry, Sunray. Our pedestrians have pushed forward. Bravo Eight is on station”

“Carry on, Seven One”

“Time for a cuppa, Sarge?”

Bob sighed so deeply I thought he would crumple. “Yes, Wilf, just this once. Harry, anyone asks, we just need to tension the tracks or dip the sump or check the tyre pressures, whatever sounds like a good excuse for a few minutes. There’s a stone wall over to the left. Get us behind that”

It was predictable as all hell. Wilf was just pouring when the subaltern returned in a jeep, sweat trails through the dust covering his face.

“The holidays have started early, I see, Sergeant”

There was something in his voice, and with yet another monumental sigh Bob started to turn towards us, ready to start packing our kit away again.

“No, Sergeant, finish your tea. Evans? Thank you”

His driver produced two battered mugs, and the young officer bowed. “If I may presume? Ceylon for me; white with four sugars for Evans here. Sit or stand easy, boys”

Wilf did the honours, as small arms fire rose to a crescendo beyond the village. The Subaltern took a long pull of his ‘Ceylon’ and sighed. “Nectar! Now, who was it that played David to the Hun’s Goliath?”

Bob pointed. “Ginger over there. Managed to get two shots off as quick as you like. More than that, he was watching when the first one bounced. Then he smashed up his tracks. Got a good eye, the lad has”

“Super! But, Sergeant, who was it decided on that course of action?”

I looked over at Bob, and put my oar in.

“Bob. I mean, the Sergeant. I didn’t have a clue, but he knew where to try for. Sarge set it up, Ernie there was sharp with the loading. Harry got us in the right spot”

Wilf laughed. “And muggins here played Mother with the tea! I can try and find some lemon juice for next time, if you like, sir”

The officer nodded. “A good crew action, led from the front. Or at least the tea making was… Sergeant, you did see that Godfrey bought it?”

There was the distinct glitter of tears at the corners of his eyes. Bob nodded.

“Aye, sir, I did. Not much doubt of it, the way he was left”

“Yes, yes. Frightful mess. Look, I will be making due report on this little altercation, and I will be mentioning you and your crew specifically for your part in it”

Harry piped up. “Other lads did their bit too, sir, but we were just luckier”

The young man was suddenly horribly and frighteningly old. “Sometimes, my man, we make our own luck. Your Sergeant here knows what he is doing, which is far more than many of the rest of us, myself included. Evans, I did not make that remark, d’ya hear? Boys, men, there are lessons to be learned here, and it is useful if one is able to crib from a friend, because failure to learn is rather terminal as an experience”

Bob was quickly back to him. “I rather think that other officer knew what he was doing, sir”

“Godfrey? Godfrey’s job was swanning, that’s all he did. The more you swan, the more likely you are to get the chop”

“Aye, sir, but it was him that called that stonk in”

“Not so, Sergeant, not so. He registered the first round. They removed his head before he could say much more. His Number Two called it in”

He stood to go. “Thank you once more for the tea. I should add that Godfrey may have lost his head, but at least he didn’t burn with the rest of his crew””

The tears were far clearer now, but with a peremptory “Evans!” he was onto the jeep and away. We sat silent for a while, Wilf breaking the mood.

“Think they was more than mates, boys? Public schools and that, all bummery! Or so I hear”

It was many years before I could work out what Wilf had been doing, but it had been simple. He was like the irritating noise that breaks the mood at a show, the cough or sneeze that knocks your concentration. All we had to concentrate on here was death and destruction and the loss of pals, so he stepped in just when we needed him to say something stupid, or trivial, or funny. That was the thing I was starting to understand, especially after the Subaltern’s words. We were a team, in the end. Bob led us, precisely and without ceremony, but when he said “Go” we went. Ernie was so quick at his post, and Harry’s driving combined with Bob’s eye for the ground had saved us from at least two anti-tank guns. As for me, I had just killed a bloody Tiger. I really needed to get that sorted in my mind, because I knew that if I wasn’t careful it would leave me cocky and careless.

“Bob?”

“Aye, Ginge?”

“What happened to the crew of that Tiger?”

“One got out, three got halfway. Turret position blocked the driver’s hatch. Someone shot him through the vision slit. All of them are good Germans now”

I had killed, one way or another, five more men, five strangers. This time, though, I didn’t need the bucket.

The next day, we were pulled out of line to replenish and repair, and there was a NAAFI tent with far better tea than Wilf had ever made. Bob vanished for a while at some N.C.O. meeting, and looked grim on his return.

“News, lads. Not good. Big push coming, try and break out of this wrestling game. We will be going for a bit of a drive. Nice weather for a run along the coast, Harry!”

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Comments

"We were a team, in the end. "

I have a feeling he's gonna need his "team" for more than war ...

DogSig.png

Thanks

Thanks for this story Steph. It seems three episodes are enough to fully get into the rhythm of this plot.

Not sure where this is going

Valcyte's picture

But I am glued to the screen. Refreshing change from some of the female hormones.
Val

Are any of these blokes cute?

Tigers

were greatly feared. However, like you pointed out a good tight crew makes all the difference. Again your writing put us there with the shakes as the smoke cleared.

hugs
Grover

bloody good

bloody good

Tank

Armored battles are difficult to write and you depiction of the Normandy breakout is well written. I ve not heard too much from the Brit point of view.

alissa

“This time, though . . .

Emma Anne Tate's picture

. . . I didn’t need the bucket.” So much meaning in that simple sentence.

This is incredibly well drawn. And the crew feels so very real.

Emma

The crew

In a non-psychotic way, they are real to me

Why?

joannebarbarella's picture

Didn't I comment! This was/is one of my all-time favourite stories and this episode was certainly worth a comment. OK, now I've remedied my oversight.