Captain Diss shook his head to pull himself out of that dark rabbit hole. He’d tried not to dwell on the losses they had taken up to this point, or the wasted opportunities of the past. Besides, they’d finally been given permission to do what tankers did best — go kill other tanks and murder unguarded infantry.
As their tank rumbled down the two-lane road, they heard several attack helicopters fly over their heads. His gunner keyed the intercom on his CVC helmet. “Captain Diss, how many enemy tanks do you think we’ll find after those helicopters get done with them?” he asked.
Diss smiled. Sergeant Winters was clearly hoping they wouldn’t miss out on getting some payback. After months of sitting around, waiting for the summer offensive to start only to have it cancelled, the men were ginned up for a fight.
“From what the colonel said, there’s an entire regiment up there, so I’d say there’ll be plenty of tanks for us,” Captain Diss answered. “We just need to make sure they don’t get any lucky shots off at us.”
“As long as we don’t run up against any of those new Russian tanks, I think we’ll pulverize this unit,” said Sergeant Winters assertively. “They’re using T-90s, and we’ve already proven we can defeat them.”
Captain Diss retorted, “You’d better hope they’re using the Russian T-90s and not those new Arjun Mk-2 tanks. I heard they had a lot of help in developing those tanks from the Israelis in the 2000s, and the Israelis know how to build a tank.”
Twenty minutes went by uneventfully as their tank rumbled through the rolling hills and lightly forested area. Suddenly, the roaring sound of a jet engine caught their attention. “Whoa, what was that?” asked Specialist Trey Mann, the loader.
“Probably just a jet on his way to attack the Indians,” replied Winters, trying to calm the young kid. Specialist Trey Mann was the newest member to their platoon. He’d arrived as a replacement roughly five weeks ago.
Captain Diss opted to poke his head out of the tank to see if he could catch a glimpse at the aircraft that had just buzzed above them. He heard several jets — some sounded close, some were far off in the distance. Looking to his right, he saw one fighter explode in the air; that was the first time he’d seen a fighter plane die up close, and while it was spectacular to look at, it suddenly sent a shiver down his back.
“The enemy must be close,” he realized.
“All Mustangs, enemy planes in the vicinity. Expect enemy contact at any time,” announced another voice over the battalion net.
Returning his gaze to the front, Captain Diss caught site of the silhouette of rockets heading in their direction. Reaching for the talk button on his headset, he yelled over the company net. “Mustangs! Incoming rocket artillery!”
He quickly ducked back into the tank. The ground around his tank suddenly rocked hard from one explosion after another, shrapnel hitting their armor in multiple different places. Diss grabbed for anything that would help him stabilized himself as he prayed none of the rockets landed on him or any of his tankers.
Seconds later, Sergeant Winters yelled out, “Tanks to our front, 3,500 meters!”
Turning to look at the commander's sight extension, Captain Diss spotted a line of tanks deploying from a single file line to a full battle line to charge them. His heart skipped a beat when he realized the tanks he was looking at were not T-90s like they had hoped. These were the Indians’ best tanks, the Arjun Mk-2s.
“Holy crap, that’s a lot of tanks!” he realized with a gulp.
“Mustangs, Arjun Mk-2 tanks to our front, 3,500 meters,” he announced. “We are moving to engage. All units fall in on our position. I want all tanks to change formation and move to a line formation. We’re going to snipe at them while they advance. Engage when you see my tank fire!” he ordered.
Then Diss yelled to his FIST team, “Black Eight, this is Black Six. I need a fire mission. Get us some arty immediately!”
Turning to the battalion net, he sent a quick message to his commander. “Sir, we’ve got Arjun Mk-2s coming up as well as incoming artillery. Could we get some air support?”
“Copy that. I’ll see what I can do,” his commander replied.
Sergeant Winters waved to grab Diss’s attention. “Captain, those tanks are charging!” he yelled. “They’re crossing 3,200 meters.”
Looking into the commander's sight, Diss saw a cluster of Arjuns his gunner was tracking. He picked out the one with the most antennas on it, which was probably the company or battalion commander's tank. “Gunner, sabot tank!" he called.
"Identified!" exclaimed Sergeant Winters.
Specialist Mann pulled up on the arming handle since they’d been riding with a sabot already in the barrel. “Up!” he yelled.
"Fire!" screamed Diss.
"On the way!" Sergeant Winters shouted in reply.
Winters depressed the firing button.
Boom!
The cannon fired, recoiling inside the turret as the vehicle rocked back on the tank’s springs. The spent aft cap of the sabot round clanged on the turret floor as the turret filled with the smell of sulfuric fumes.
Diss watched the round fly out from his tank at a flat trajectory, crossing the distance in a couple of seconds. It smashed right into the enemy tank’s front glacis and bounced right off. “Damn it! It ricocheted,” he yelled. “Load another sabot. Winters, adjust for the speed of the enemy tank, and don’t hit the front turret.” He was mentally kicking himself. He should’ve known better than to aim for the thickest part of a tank’s armor.
The rest of Captain Diss’s troop began to fire now that he had led the way and fired the first shot. He watched the rounds fly toward the enemy. A couple of his fellow tankers also missed, but many more found their marks. Several of the enemy tanks took hits that caused the rear ammunition compartments to blow out. The enemy crews would then attempt to bail out, since their tanks were essentially dead and disabled.
“Sabot up!” shouted Captain Diss’s loader, who pulled up on the arming handle.
"Fire!" ordered Diss as he focused once again on the task at hand, the enemy tank still charging at him.
Boom!
An explosion rocketed their tank as an enemy tank round hit just in front of them, throwing shrapnel and rocks at their front armor.
“On the way!” yelled Winters. He depressed the firing button again.
Captain Diss said a prayer. He hoped they took that enemy tank out before it fired a second, more accurate shot at them.
This time, their round found its mark. The enemy tank took a direct hit. It slowly came to a halt. Seconds later, the top hatch opened up, and as Diss watched an enemy soldier try to get out of the vehicle, it blew up. A flaming jet of fire shot through the enemy soldier and the turret at least ten feet in the air for a couple of seconds before the entire tank was ripped apart by another explosion.
“Fire the smoke grenades! We need to generate some cover,” Diss shouted to the gunner. Meanwhile, the driver proceeded to back them up and move them to another firing position.
Captain Diss turned to look at his gunner. “Good hit, Winters! New target identified. Load sabot!” he shouted.
While Captain Diss’s company was steadily picking off the attackers, a steady stream of incoming enemy artillery rounds threatened their tanks, indicating they had stayed still in one place for too long.