El Alamein, Jack Murray [best autobiographies to read .txt] 📗

closely to the engine. It coughed in protest before firing to life. They set off slowly. Manfred looked through his sight but could see very little laterally. Frustrated at the limited view, he edged over towards Kleff and took a look through his periscope.

On the left was ‘Willi’ Teege, the head of the Panzer Regiment 8. To their right he saw the 1st Battalion leader, Captain Stiefelmayer’s tank. He had to acknowledge that both men led from the front. The captain seemed to be taking a risk by having so much of his torso outside the tank. Just below him would be Fischer waiting, like Manfred, for the order to start firing. At the clip they were moving, that would not be long in coming. Manfred hoped that the enemy tanks were not the big Grants or Shermans with the seventy-five-millimetre guns.

The clank of the tank tracks filled the air, initially blocking out the distant blasts. But within minutes the sound of battle grew louder.

‘How far?’ asked Manfred.

‘Two thousand metres,’ replied Basler calmly. But this was rapidly shrinking. Within seconds it would be eighteen hundred and then fifteen hundred. Jentz was already zig-zagging to make it difficult for any enemy gunners who’d lock on to them.

A nod to Kleff and the first shell was loaded into the breech. It was AP Armour Piercing. Manfred’s eyes were glued to the sight making calculations on his aim. Basler, meanwhile, was counting down the distance to the first of the wave of enemy ahead. There had to be more than sixty tanks thought Manfred. They were getting hit though. Many were already in flames. But still they came.

Basler told Jentz to straighten up. There was little point in trying to zig-zag if they were also trying to shoot. This was when they were most at risk. A direct target. Manfred held his breath waiting for the order to fire. However, he realised that they were not yet getting hit by the enemy. This meant they were not facing the big guns. At least not yet.

‘Twelve hundred metres,’ said Basler. ‘One thousand. Nine hundred…fire.’

Manfred pressed the button. Seconds later Kleff rammed another shell into the breech. Manfred’s first shot had missed, short and right. The next hit the target full on the turret just as it returned fire. A shell bounced harmlessly off the front of the Panzer Mark III. The British tank was not so fortunate. It erupted into flame. One man escaped from a hatch, then another. Basler left them.

The next target was less than six hundred metres away. They were now within the deadly range of the enemy tanks. Manfred pressed the trigger again. Another hit. The tracks of the enemy tank crumpled inwards, stopping it dead. Seconds later the tank men sent a shell that screaming over the head Manfred’s tank.

Manfred’s next shot took out the tank. He didn’t see anyone emerge before turning his attention to the next tank. They were now like medieval jousters. The tanks ahead of them were closing in but the smoke and the dust obscured just how close they were. Manfred was firing blind.

And then they were among the enemy tanks.

It was difficult to detect friend from foe.

‘Traverse left,’ said Basler, ‘Fire immediately.’

Manfred responded instantaneously and let off a round. Seconds later a loud explosion split the air inside the tank causing it and the crew to vibrate. The heat of the blast could be felt even inside the hot tank.

Through his sight, Manfred saw Stiefelmayer’s tank on the right engaging with two approaching Crusaders.

‘Traverse left,’ ordered Basler.

‘Sir, Captain Stiefelmayer is being attacked,’ shouted Manfred. There was a note of desperation in his voice. One on one the Panzer had the beating of most enemy tanks. Taking on two was another matter.

‘So are we,’ snarled Basler angrily. Manfred was already doing as he was told. Less than fifty metres ahead he saw a British tank emerge from behind a screen of black smoke and sand. Manfred fired. He signalled to Kleff to load another shell and leased it off immediately towards a tank that was just behind the one he’d destroyed. Something hit the tank. It bounced off. The second British tank erupted into flames.

‘Traverse right,’ ordered Basler.

Manfred rapidly wheeled the turret round as quickly as he could just in time to see the tank with Fischer and Stiefelmayer explode. One of the British tanks that had attacked them was in flames. Manfred had the second tank in his sights. He fired off one shell and then another. Jentz continued to move forward. There was no time to see if anyone had survived from Fischer’s tank.

More tanks were streaming towards them. Some were blocked by the smoking wrecks of other British tanks. Kleff kept loading and Manfred kept firing. Around them explosions were concussing the tank but miraculously they had not been hit. The sheer confusion became their friend. The smoke and the dust obscured so much that aimless firing risked hitting the wrong tank.

Kiel shook his head. Manfred didn’t know if that meant they were dead or that he simply did not know. There was no time for any further questions. Basler was speaking on their internal radio.

‘There’s another wave of tanks coming. My God, will they ever stop?’

Manfred already knew the answer to that question. He peered through his sight and saw the menacing dark shapes in the distance.

‘Jentz, reverse,’ ordered Basler.

Jentz brought the tank to a halt and began moving it backwards. British tanks were moving laterally but Manfred couldn’t get any shots off as they were shielded by the burning hulks of tanks destroyed earlier, mostly British, noted Manfred. They littered the battlefield.

Other Panzers appeared to be of a like mind and were withdrawing slowly. Manfred could see British infantry abandoning slit trenches as the metal giants threatened to crush them under their tracks.

‘Lieutenant,’ shouted Kiel, ‘I can see Captain Stiefelmayer.’

‘Where?’ shouted Basler before answering his own question. ‘No, I see him.’

Manfred could just about see Fischer and another crew