"Shit!" Pat exclaimed as the enemy artillery began dropping shells, the rounds where landing long but not by much.  He had left the fallback orders too late and he hoped that the rapidly prepared defenses would keep the group alive.  He wanted to run now but until he saw Wolfesbane go past his position he knew he had to stay put.

Grabbing his gear, James headed for cover near the house. Once in position, he got his HK-CAW ready for action.

Andrew watched the rocket from the carl gustav towards the Russian main battle tank, waiting for the impact before they will depart to be out of the danger zone for their own incoming rounds and hopefully the incoming Russian ones, hopefully..


-

There was a resounding wong-crack and an impressive shower of fiery sparks as the warhead of the 84mm round detonated against the side of the T62m's turret. There wasn't a glowing bolt of ricocheting molten metal. No, the shaped charge round's jet of molten copper and super-heated gases had pierced the armor. An instant after the impact came the crump-pop off internal over-pressure as it blew the loader's hatch in the turret roof. The low, thick steel cupola came free from the top of the turret just as the itself came open.

A slight glare from inside the turret gave hope to an internal fire. Men near the vehicle shouted out of surprise and fear, many diving for new cover in anticipation of the tank brewing up. The commander's hatch swung open and the man lumbered out as if dazed and rolled off the back of the turret. Moments later the driver's hatch popped up and the driver crawled forward until he tumbled drunkenly to the ground as another member of the turret crew clambered out of the commander's hatch, most likely the gunner, and skidded down onto the engine deck and rolled over to fall to the ground as if in shock.

It was the effects of percussive stunning and shock mixed with fear of dying in a burning tank. Brains rattled by intense percussion, nerves rattled be fear of a gruesome death; men reacted out of experience and not reason. But, it did save lives. So long as the tank didn't turning into a pressure cooker of fuel, munitions, and super-heated air before hand.

At best guess, Andrew figured he just took out the loader, the radio station, some internal stores for the crew, and probably one the sets of turret electrical lines. But, it did get the crew out of the tank. For now anyway.

James made it to the house just in time to witness the impact on the tank's turret. It was both heart lifting and maddening when the tank didn't turn into a fireworks display. Moving to a low spot near the foundation behind the house he quickly burrowed into the overgrown bushes and worked at catching his breath.

Back in the depths of shadow and foliage, Roger  raised the night vision sight in time to see the approach BRDMs slow and stop. Evidently, the thought of charging into an anti-tank round was more than they bargained for. But, their spotlights were intensely bright as they tracked along the trees looking for signs of the anti-tank team.

Andrew moved with Tran back from their earlier position to set up somewhere new. With all anti-armour rounds now exhausted with a startlingly poor to hit rate. Andrew decided to try to take out one of the APC's, but again his poor skill with the weapon system let him down and the rocket flew off to who knows where


Andrew Johnson rolled 98 using 1d100.  To Hit, 6 shots 2 hits = :(


-

It was a relief seeing Wolfebane loop back behind him.  He gave him a little time to find cover before he followed suit and headed towards the fall back point.

"Stay right there you mother f***ers..."

Roger growled to himself as he saw the enemy AFVs stop. He was tempted to start shooting out spotlights but didn't relish pointing a night scope at a light of that power nor did he think it was a good idea to dismount the night sope just yet.

On the radio he added,

"That last shot got their BRDMs to pause. Don't leave that f***in' HMG functional when you fall back from it."

He scanned the area between his team and the enemy to see if he needed to discourage any Poles from overly enthusiastic pursuit.

There was a sudden scream of a high velocity projectile overhead from the east and a red star cluster burst into life.It's arc was perfect, carrying the glowing sphere directly over the house to pass out over the middle of the Polish infantry's advance. If the timing was as spot on as the shot, then their would be a follow on barrage of nineteen high explosive shells packing nearly nighty pounds of hells-a-coming each in less than a minute.

It was both exhilarating and terrifying. And, it wasn't lost on the team that there was more than likely another barrage from the 152mm artillery supporting the Poles on its way as well. Two barrages of artillery fire targeting the same area, and the team was smack dab in the middle of it all.

Nowhere seemed any safer than anywhere else so Roger just thought mole-like thoughts and tried to burrow into the side of the hill he was laying on.

Andrew got down and close to the cover they have been using, as close as possible. Then he waited for their end or a delay of the inevitable and the chance to run away.


-

23:49, Today: Roger A Castle rolled 63 using 1d100.  FOB.

Success by the skin o' my teeth.

Roger watched as the star cluster burnt out and fell away in the storm's fierce winds. Then it occurred to him. The Winds!

Doing some quick, sloppy-assed math in his head Roger realized that the wind was more than ether gunnery officer had accounted for. The Poles were using too much muscle to fine into the wind and were overshooting. The Navy was shooting using too much muscle, too, allowing their shots to be taken just a bit too far ahead of their target.

He sighed. With any luck the teams' fallback positions were inline with the crossover area under each of the incoming barrages' trajectory. Another storm was coming, one of shrapnel and fire. But, he was pretty sure it would not be a storm that fell on their heads.

Now, if mother nature would just let up for a moment.

Staying down Andrew quickly equalised his ears and then covered his head as he waited for the numerous shock waves to flow over their position.

-
This message was last edited by the player at 10:21, Sun 09 Feb 2020.

Pat stayed low there was little if anything he could do until the big guns finished playing.  It was moments like these that he wished he believed in a higher power.  Instead he went with his usual mantra of "Shit, shit, shitty, shit!"

Tense minutes passed.

The sun peaked through the roiling thunderstorm for a heartbeat; sunrise had finally came along. That would mean that the landing was nearly completed, that real on the ground support would be close enough to offer assistance soon.

Then came the shriek of incoming Soviet artillery. The heavy 152mm shells made a ripping sound as they passed overhead. And immediately faded out in the ear rattling passage of incoming NATO artillery from offshore.

The morning suddenly turned into a riot of deafening explosions and a cascade of shrapnel, wood slivers, pulverized stone, and waves of percussive over-pressure. Lacerations, perforations, contusions, swelling, and bleeding became the order of the day. While they had suffered no major injuries, the team members would spend some time removing bits of shrapnel and debris from their various minor wounds while their noses and ears seemed to slowly bleed.

The aches, especially Patric's invigorated headache, were terrible. Their radios, night vision devices, weapon's optics, canteens, and other small electronic devices payed the price as percussive force disconnected leads, cracked lenses, ruptured fluid filled containers, ruptured vacuum seals, displaced rubber gaskets, and shattered digital displays.

The NATO barrage had fallen within thirty meters west of the team but it ripped the guts from the Polish Infantry's attack. Several vehicles were burning. Corpses littered the ground as if they had been haphazardly dropped from the sky. Secondary explosions caused by ignited rockets, grenades, and ammunition had killed many. Both of the BRDMs were aflame, but the T62m still stood its ground. Its hatches were still open from where the crew had bailed out and it was obvious that engine wasn't running.

Behind the team to the east the heavy 152mm shells from the Pact barrage had landed mostly in trees and bog. Luckily for the team. It was a scene reminiscent of the old black and white photos of the Somme or Belau Wood.

Andrew lay still for awhile as he caught his breath. Turning over he check on this team mate Tran was ok before doing a quick check on his gear that was accessible. He checked the teams comms net and his radio before giving the all clear for Tran and himself to the rest of the team. Rubbing himself down to remove the debris Andrew looked out over their cover and scanned the battlefield in front of them.

It looked as if all the heavy and light armour had been accounted for and that a considerable amount of the dismounted infantry had also been caught in the firestorm. Using the magnified sight on the Charlie G Andrew tried to see if the Russian ZSU-23-4 "Shilka" was operational that they had spotted earlier.


Andrew Johnson
Sitting while scanning for threats.
Carl Gustaf 84mmN [1/1 FFV441 HE]
Looking for the Russian Anti-aircraft gun.



-

Roger notified Big Arty that he had just told a really good p****k joke.

He then climbed to the edge of the hilltop and scanned the enemy positions to see if they need any further encouragement to go the f**k away.

"Who's not dead?"

Pat checks himself out physically groaning with the pain.  His head throbbing he rolls over and groans "I wish I was"  he replied to Roger.

As their hearing began to recover the team began to hear the sounds of men suffering from having been caught by heavy artillery fire; moans of pain and agony, the screams of men whose nerve had broken, and the shouts of survivors calling for help for wounded comrades. Their was the unmistakable sound of running feet, panicked flight away from the combat zone, told a tale of fleeing Polish infantry.

"Looks like Jan don't wanna play no more. Good thing too I don't know how much longer I can keep winning like this."

Roger scoped the tank to see if anyone was trying to remount it. If they did he planned to reward them with a 7.62 round.

Standing up, James wiped off the clods of dirt off of him that had landed from the barrage, before sticking his finger in his ear to try to clear the ringing in his head. Scanning the area, he looked to see if there was any threats before walking back to the heavy machinegun to see if it was still in one piece.

The sight of the T-62, still in mostly good shape, made him shake his head. "If the radio still works, headquarters might like a slightly used mobile pillbox. They got to send a big tow truck."  he said to the group.

"Shall we push towards the tank and destroy it ? I mean it would be a major loss and not one they could readily replace." Andrew will swap the Charlie G for his HK again if the rest of the team are in the affirmative.


-

Pat slowly got to his feet, he was still wobbly and nothing he could do would stop the throbbing in his head.  He gathered his thoughts and gave Andrew the thumbs up rather than risk speaking right now.  Checking his weapons to make sure everything was still in operatgion he followed Andrew down towards the tank.

The scene was surreal.

Dozens of dead or dying were scattered about. The rain and smoke made the scene feel like a bad slasher movie. Moans from wounded men lended an eeriness to the morning. Another barrage ripped the heavens as heavy 152mm shells passed overhead to land some sixty meters away. The noise and destruction drove everyone to ground.

But, not tko far away the T62m sat. It was idling with a deep growl and a soft clicking of a bad lifted. It was running refined ethanol, so no one expected it to be running when they didn't see diesel exhaust.

When Roger discovered he wasn't dead after the latest barrage he weighed in on the tank issue.

"Better to capture it. Our guys are on their way now all we need to do is keep them from driving off in it."

He angled to cover the men approaching the tank.