#forcesofvalor

[kashkaykarma]

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This used to be my sh*t 😂! The sneaker that would never go out of style #uptowns #af1 #forcesofvalor #champs Do not own rights to this song? (at Manhattan Bridge) https://www.instagram.com/p/By1TBcYAJ0YT25u8Ygq-ixdsWR5DTPdTYOL3AU0/?igshid=1vd3350c40dsr

[disgruntledgrunt1577]

The Americans did come, once again.

They always did.

Thankfully, the sometimes temperamental transmission held together as they clanked forward to the front line.

The massive beast rumbled and shook, like the colossal cat she was named after.

Though she was the last of her kind for miles, maybe even in the whole of Nazi Germany, she still had her claws, and intended to use them.

The GI’s had prepped the area with a short but intense shelling.

Their self-propelled guns left the area just before the river bank littered with pock marked holes and charred trees.

It was nothing new.

The hopeless infantry, God have mercy on them, milled about the mighty Tiger in their holes hastily dug into the earth.

For them, the hulking contraption of steel and power embodied their only salvation in this merciless fight.

Friedhelm knew the odds were long. But surprise was undoubtably on his side, he doubted the Americans would expect a King Tiger to still stalk this river bank. He hoped it'd be enough. Within minutes the battlefield was a scene of utter chaos. German machine guns, the dreaded MG42's, littered the ground with a heavy mixture of dead and dying GI's, who's artillery began to answer in turn. The first massive concussions of the 105mm rounds began crashing into the earth. His gunner spotted the Shermans before he did. They moved forward cautiously, as if they were apprehensive about the task at hand. Friedhelm would have laughed, had he had even the slightest bit of humor left in his aching bones. "Load....AP, Kurtz, fire when ready." BLAM! No matter how many times they fired their massive 88mm cannon, the sheer power and concussive force never ceased to "ring his bell" as the saying went. A ringing bell was an understatement for the crew of the first Sherman, their turret flung high in the air, flames leaping out of her hull. Before the second Sherman had even realized they were engaged by an enemy tank, they too caught a round, neatly punching a hole through the front and out the back. The chaos inside that Sherman was pure hell. The round sheared through the thin armor up front, killing the bow machine gunner instantly in a gory mess of entrails and blood. The commander, behind the gunner standing on his seat, was cut in half by the metal projectile hurtling through his tank. Friedhelm closed his eyes to shut out the thoughts. His crew, what remained of them were self sufficient enough to need no direction from him for shooting fish in a barrel like this. Disabling or destroying a total of five Shermans and one half track in under a half an hour, they had made their presence known without question. But that night, as Friedhelm eagerly took his turn to rest, he couldn't help but visualize an hour glass. An hour glass that was growing more and more empty by the minute.

[disgruntledgrunt1577]

“Einen verzweifelten Katze” - Part III Seelow Heights, 1945 Soviet artillery was creating a firestorm all around Ludwig's tank. Earth shaking concussions shook the ground as debris ricocheted off the tank in every direction. Oberleutnant Ludwig was measuring his life, and the lives of his crew in mere seconds now. Their Panther had successfully reversed back down the hill, turning tail and giving full power to the Maybach engine, doing their best to escape the raging inferno engulfing the battlefield. On the other side of the small hill, urged forward by their officers over radio, Soviet tankers crept forward behind the barrage in the most dreaded tank in Stalin's arsenal, the massive IS-2. Ludwig and his comrades were eager to escape the fighting, in his mind, he had already made his decision. The war was lost, and at the first opportunity of safety, he'd order the crew to abandon their Panther, discard their uniforms, and part their ways. Individually they stood a slim chance of safely making it to the Americans, but surrendering to the Soviets was not an option. The only thing that mattered now was making it through the day. One step at a time. Oberleutnant Ludwig Heizer was thinking of escape, of his wife and daughter, wherever they may be, and of the chance to build a new life far from this horrible conflict. With the artillery bursting around them, and their backs to the enemy, none of the crew realized a Soviet IS-2 had mounted the small hill to their rear, and was laying in on the lone Panther. When the colossal 122mm cannon round struck the rear of the tank's turret, explosive force ripping it's way inside, Ludwig Heizer's mind was already back home. The direct hit from such a massive round decimated the Panther, killing the entire crew instantaneously. For Oberleutnant Ludwig and his comrades, it was a merciful end to a very unmerciful war.

[disgruntledgrunt1577]

“Einen verzweifelten Katze” Part II -Seelow Heights, 1945

The sinister olive drab tank hung in his periscope.

Oberleutnant Ludwig was frantic & afraid, kicking his gunner Willi, shouting & cursing, on the verge of screaming in terror.

Combat has a way of bringing out the worst in individuals.

“Take the shot Willi! Take the fucking shot!”

“Shut the fuck up and let me do my fucki-!”

Willi’s heated words were cut short by the sonic boom of the enemy tank’s 85mm gun blast.

In the micro second the shot was fired, Ludwig squeezed his eyes shut, anticipating opening them and seeing the man with the sickle reaching for him.

Instead, all he heard was the deafeningly high pitch whine of the Soviet tank’s 85mm armor piercing round sail by their tank.

Russian optics were by far inferior to precision German examples, but at this range, Ludwig and his crew had been damn lucky not to have been on the receiving end of hot death this time.

But now it was their turn, as curses and shouts filled the tank’s interior Willi finally finished laying the gun on the target, and with shaking limbs he depressed the foot pedal.

The German Pzkw. V Panther carried a smaller, (75mm), main cannon than the Russian opponent they faced now, but one advantage they did have was the cannon’s long barrel, which when fired, generated an ungodly muzzle velocity for the round. In short, the long cannon propelled the smaller round with easily enough kinetic energy to shear the turret off of a T-34 at close range.

Willi’s aim had been true, and in the tense split second that the Russian crew were reloading and correcting their aim, the Panther’s round struck it’s target.

Penetrating the turret on contact, instantly obliterating the T-34’s gunner and shearing the tank’s commander into multiple pieces, while the loader’s organs were smashed into paste from the shattering concussion of the explosion.

The only two members of the T-34’s crew still alive, driver & radio operator, seated in the front of the tank, were only granted about a microsecond longer of life.

When the Pzgr. 39/42 round penetrated the T-34’s turret killing the crew members there, it’s explosion also cooked off the tank’s ammunition. Causing a catastrophic explosion that tore the shattered turret off the body, flinging hatches and panels open, and incinerating what remained of the entire crew.

Oberleutnant Ludwig watched the entire display through his periscope, hand resting on Willi’s shoulder. It was sickening, horrific, and completely beautiful at the same time.

By text book terms it was a completely perfect kill, and for the crew of the destroyed tank, it was a merciful death.

Ludwig and his comrades had seen far too many Russian and German crews alike trapped inside their steel beasts roasting alive, an instant death was the preferable way to go when the time came.

“Gun loaded” Ludwig’s loader finally said after what seemed like an eternity.

Soviet artillery began to fire again, this time closer to their position.

The German lines were definitely completely broken.

And for the moment, the Soviets seemed content to back away from this lone Panther.

Ludwig didn’t plan on sitting around to wonder why they had been so lucky.

Concussions from nearby explosions began to rattle the tank’s hull, showering it with shrapnel and debris.

“Gunther, let’s get the fuck off this hill. We’ve done all we can boys.” He spoke through his throat mike, directing the driver to finally abandon their position.

The Maybach engine roared into reverse amidst the artillery barrage.