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The enemy were out there. But where?

Then Manfred heard it.

‘Tanks,’ warned Kummel. ‘Three kilometres ahead.’

Manfred gazed through the lens of his periscope. It took another minute before the dark shapes began to speckle the glistening haze. It was difficult at first to pick out what he was seeing and then he knew. The high turret could only be the new tank they’d been hearing rumours of. It was American, like many of the British tanks. Basler ducked into the turret and confirmed the suspicion that they were facing a new type of tank. The order to attack would come from Kummel.

A nod from Kleff and a shell was loaded into their fifty-one millimetre cannon. After what seemed an eternity the order came.

‘Fire.’

Perspiration dripped down Manfred’s face as he pressed the button. He scored a hit and was about to celebrate when, with some dismay, he saw that his shell had bounced off the front armour of the Grant. Angered by this and now somewhat closer, he told Kleff to keep loading.

Manfred fired again. Dismay turned to horror when he saw his shell shatter ineffectively once more. Basler had seen the same. His face was grim.

‘I don’t like this,’ said the Lieutenant. Nor did Manfred. He wondered why the British weren’t firing back. They were now around a kilometre away. All of a sudden, the camouflage was discarded and they could see the Grants more clearly. Then he saw the flashes and then the puffs of smoke emerge from the ridge. If it was true that they had a seventy-five-millimetre gun then the Panzers would be well within their range.

Shells were striking the ground all around them throwing up plumes of dust and dirt. This was worrying. Previously they hadn’t had this sort of range. Moments later a tank just to the left of Manfred exploded. Yet another of Manfred’s shells bounced harmlessly off the Grant. Smoke and dust now shrouded Manfred’s view, but the radio traffic was intense.

‘We need artillery,’ called Kummel to Teege.

‘I hear you,’ came Teege’s reply.

‘Get closer!’ ordered Kummel. The realisation that they were outgunned lent an edge to the normally implacable captain’s voice.

‘I’m coming with the 2nd Battalion,’ said Teege, realising that they needed to assist Kummel who was drawing most of the enemy fire. The 2nd Battalion, according to Gerhardt, was aiming to hit the Allies from their flank. It sounded like they were finally in position. Not a moment too soon.

The smoke cleared enough for Manfred to see Kummel up ahead. His tank was moving fast but also weaving. Manfred could imagine the effort that Hubbuch was putting in to avoid getting hit. Just to his left he could see Horst Klein twisting his steering like a boxer trying to avoid his opponent’s lunges.

Manfred’s heart leapt when he saw the first of the British tanks erupt into flames. The 2nd Battalion were beginning to make their presence felt. Emboldened by this success, Manfred redoubled his efforts to score a hit. They were now close enough to do some damage. And he was. His next effort, with an AP Armour Piercing shell, penetrated the tank.

‘HE shells,’ ordered Manfred. The High Explosive shells would strike panic into the. British. Already a number of their tanks were in flames. He didn’t want to think about the toll being extracted on the 1st Battalion, however.

The shelling from the British began to lessen. Initially, Manfred thought this was because the British, aware of the attack on their flanks, were spreading their fire more widely. Then Kummel’s voice came over the radio.

‘They’re pulling back,’ said the captain. There was a hint of relief in his voice, thought Manfred. Through the haze and the giant smoke pillars, Manfred could see a number of the British tanks motionless. Smoking. Dead.

The tank slowed down while they passed a number of tank crews abandoning a smoking Mark III. They hopped onto the front of Manfred’s tank. Ahead they could see the last of the new tanks escaping.

Kummel’s ordered a halt. This was unlikely to last long so Manfred took the opportunity to climb out of the tank and stretch his legs. The sight that greeted him was shocking.

The British had been on the receiving end of a fearful beating but so too had the Afrika Korps. The field was littered with the smoking hulks of the Panzer tanks. They’d won the initial engagement but at a great cost.

Basler and the other tank commanders from the 1st Battalion convened around Kummel who was busy reorganising them. Manfred recognised the intense focus of the captain and the urgency with which he was giving directions. They would not let the Allies escape, that much was clear. Basler returned a few minutes later and spoke to the tank crew.

‘We don’t know how many tanks we’ve lost but clearly this new tank of the British is capable of outgunning us. So we have to get close. Kummel took a look at the new tank. It has a seventy-five-millimetre gun but it is fixed to the right side sponson. They can’t move side to side. If we attack from the side they have problems. Our orders are to head north in pursuit of what’s left of this tank regiment.’

Manfred couldn’t stop his eyes shifting to the decimated tanks around the field. Basler glared at Manfred.

‘Do you have a problem with this, Brehme?’ asked the lieutenant abruptly.

Manfred shifted on his feet and felt like a schoolboy caught out by the teacher.

‘No, sir,’ said Manfred. He paused then added, ‘But next time, can we attack them from the flank?’

All of the crew laughed except Basler. There was, however, a hint of amusement in his eyes. They all recognised that something had changed. The Mark III tank and even the Mark IV was up against something just as deadly. The Allies were beginning to learn from their mistakes. They had made major strides in narrowing the gap between the respective tanks. Even their tactic of digging in and picking off the Panzers had

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