Bob Carruthers - Tiger Command!

“We are looking for the Mark IV machines. If we find them, I will destroy them, but if they destroy me, you must stay calm and remember to aim for the rear of the turret, as you know the gunner and ammunition are there. If you hit the ammunition, you can blow up the tank. This is a wonderful sight, comrade, when a fascist machine explodes and the turret is hurled into the air. It makes one’s heart beat with joy.”

“I should very much like to see that, Comrade Korsak,” replied Androv.

“I hope you will get your wish tonight, but in the event that you find yourself in command of the gun, and if a shot at the rear of the turret is not possible, which it will not be if the gun is swung towards you, then fire at the centre of the rear half of the tank. As you know well, the motor and the fuel containers are there. If you hit either one, you will put the tank out of action.”

“I had no idea the anti-tank rifle was such a potent weapon,” said Androv.

“Indeed it is, Comrade Androv, but it takes courage. It’s no use at long range. When firing a PATR at a moving target, it is essential to let the fascist tanks come within 200 metres or closer. The best gunners will allow the tank to approach to within 100 metres. A well camouflaged anti-tank rifle crew can put any fascist tank out of action with a few well-aimed shots, and don’t forget that the fascists stick to the rollbahn like glue, so one burning machine can easily be used to block the road for a whole column of tanks.”

Initially, the hunt for the German tanks proved fruitless, and even Korsak seemed to grow weary and eventually fell into silence. It looked as if their mission would end in failure, until just before dawn, when they emerged from a small wood bordered by a wide lake.

Responding to Korsak’s gesture, Androv was able to make out the shape of six German tanks parked up on the side of the rollbahn. Among the panje huts on the other side of the road were the shapes of half-tracks and supply trucks, but Korsak only had eyes for the tanks. The side of each parked vehicle was parallel to their position and perfectly exposed to their fire. Korsak was inwardly elated. Androv was terrified, and he felt the adrenaline pumping in his veins, his mouth dry, and the pounding in his ears.

This far behind the lines, the German crews considered themselves relatively safe, safe enough to sleep in the rough huts of the small village which bordered the road to the right. Nonetheless, the German commander had selected his site with care. To the left of the tanks was the wide lake, some 100 metres broad, which gave the tanks protection against any Soviet tanks approaching from that direction. Unfortunately, it also formed a barrier, making pursuit of any attacker impossible.

Unobserved, the two men dismounted and tied their horses to a tree. Together they stealthily unpacked the anti-tank rifle and mounted it on the swivel of the device manufactured by Androv’s men, and now attached to the saddle of the pack horse. Assembly and loading was soon complete and the anxious Captain Androv expected them to open fire. To his intense frustration, the panicky Androv had to wait in an agony of fearful torture as Korsak, cool as ice, delayed opening fire and whispered his final instructions.

“Now is the time to show daring, Comrade Androv. As I told you, the best range is 100 metres. When the firing starts, don’t let the enemy fire lead you to forget your duty. Fix this in your mind: as long as I am not incapacitated, you must keep loading the rifle, whatever else happens.”

Androv was just about able to speak. “Understood, Comrade Korsak.”

“Good. Now, this anti-tank rifle can fire eight to ten rounds per minute, if the gunner and his loader use teamwork. At this range, it’s just as effective as a 76 mm gun at 1,500 metres. We have the perfect target. I shall aim for the first tank then switch fire to the rear-most tank. I shall then proceed from the rear to the head of the column. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Comrade Korsak,” came the whispered reply from Captain Androv, his mouth parched and his heart pounding in his chest.

“Once we open fire I shall open and close the breech, aiming and firing. You must be careful to clean and oil each of the shells before you place it in the chamber. In the event that I am wounded or killed and the turrets are turned towards you, you must fire at the centre of the rear half of the tank. Remember, the motor and the fuel containers are there. Good luck, Comrade Androv.”

With that, Korsak finally took aim and fired at the lead tank. The first four shots all produced hits on the lead tank, but there was no explosion. All hell now broke loose as figures came running from all directions and sprinted towards the tanks. Hatches were flung open as black clad figures disappeared inside the tanks and turrets began to traverse towards them.

Cursing his luck, Korsak switched to the fuel tanks. With his ninth shot he finally got his reward as the foremost tank burst into flames. The crew, who had only just got into the vehicle, immediately leapt out and began to fire wildly in their direction with their small arms.

Dragged from his brief sleep by the sound of firing, SS-Sturmbannführer Helmut Voss rushed from his hut and began to take stock of the situation. From the muzzle flash it was clear that they were under attack from what appeared to be an anti-tank rifle, firing from a position just behind the tree line. The lack of supporting machine gun fire suggested a very small group.

“Partisans? Potentially a diversion…” thought Voss, and immediately sent a platoon to cover the other approach to the village before he turned his attention to the tanks.

Korsak and Androv were only too aware that the fire of the remaining five tanks would soon be trained upon them, so they had to work fast, but Androv’s trembling hands would not permit the smooth flow of new rounds which would make for the rapid stream of fire that Korsak now needed. Eventually, a new round was rammed home by the cursing Androv and, despite the hail of bullets now whistling uncomfortably close by, Korsak calmly lined up the rear tank.

This time he got his reward. The turret of the last tank had not yet been turned towards them and the shell from the anti-tank rifle found its mark in the ammunition locker. The Panzer simply disintegrated with the force of the resulting explosions. The turret performed a perfect parabola as it flew through the air and crashed into the lake. Voss and the grenadiers were thrown to the ground by the blast and he felt the heat wave surge over him.

The other tanks, however, were undeterred and co-axial machine guns soon began to sweep the forest edge. Korsak and Androv had to act fast, and his flustered loader struggled to keep up as Korsak switched tactics and ran along the column, putting a disabling shot into each engine compartment.

Time was now running against the Soviet pair. A high-explosive round barked out of a number two tank and exploded in the edge of the lake, with co-axial machine gun fire from the other tanks ripping through the trees and creeping closer. Korsak signalled to Androv that the time had come to withdraw.

Voss got to his feet to scan the tree line with his binoculars. He was just in time to witness a Soviet army officer step out from the tree line and take off his cap, revealing a shock of white hair, before bowing deeply and retiring back into the trees.

As a stream of high-explosive shells crashed into the forest around them, Korsak calmly led the pack horse into the shelter of the trees and, accompanied by the shaking figure of Androv, equally calmly repacked the gun and remaining ammunition, loading everything onto the pack horse. He then untied the two riding horses and handed the reins of one of the horses to a stunned Captain Androv.