Unfortunately, when you defy good tactical sense, you often get caught. No sooner had the Bradley come halfway out into the open than the image of a huge gray Leopard tank, its gun pointing right at him, struck Cerro square in the face. "BACK UP! DRIVER, BACK UP! NOW! NOW!"
Cerro's sudden screaming and the decibel level told the driver they were in trouble. Without hesitation, he slammed the transmission into reverse and began to back up. The gunner, seeing what had caused Cerro to yell, slew-laid his sight onto center mass of the German tank and squeezed the trigger, firing whatever ammunition and weapons were ready, without waiting for Cerro to issue a fire command. In this case, unfortunately, it was only the 25mm cannon and not the TOW antitank missile.
Across the way the German gunner had been as surprised to see the American Bradley pop into his sight. He was about to alert his command to this when suddenly the American Bradley began to shower his vehicle with a volley of 25mm high-explosive rounds. Though not particularly lethal to a tank's frontal armor, the hail of 25mm rounds served to startle the German crew and delay their first round. When the commander yelled fire without giving a proper fire command, the gunner took a snap shot that passed within inches of Cerro's Bradley as it gained speed and disappeared into the woods, firing as it went.
The wild firing of Cerro's gunner also served to alert one of Kozak's Bradleys to the danger. With a quick glance to the right, the commander of that Bradley saw the German tanks being well marked by the tracers from Cerro's wild volley and issued his fire command. Since he had been looking for tank targets at long ranges, the Bradley commander had his TOW missile pod up and in the ready-to-fire position. It was a simple matter for him and his crew to dispatch the German tank company commander that had frightened Cerro so badly and sent him scurrying back into the woods.
While Cerro was recovering from his near calamity, Seydlitz gave the order to fire. With great deliberateness, his gunner watched and tracked the two personnel carriers. Estimating their range, based on the range that he had used during his last engagement, the gunner took what he believed to be a good proper lead and prepared to fire. Ready, he announced he was shooting and squeezed the trigger.
Well on their way, Dixon dodged the great mud clods that the tracks of Malin's personnel carrier were throwing up as he endeavored to keep his personnel carrier as close to Malin's as prudent. They hadn't gone fifty meters before Dixon began regretting their decision to go by field instead of the road. Both his personnel carrier and Malin's were sliding about this way and that in the mud as their spinning tracks grabbed for traction and found little. He was about to call over the radio to recommend that they get onto the hard-surfaced road and make their run up there when a large geyser of dirt and rock sprang up from that road. Looking to his right, Dixon quickly saw that someone from the German woods to the east had seen them and was engaging them. Knowing that it was too late to switch to the road now, Dixon dropped the idea. Fixing his stare — on Malin's head as it bobbed this way and that in the open cargo hatch of his personnel carrier, Dixon tightened his grip on the lip of his hatch and began to pray.
Without having to think about it, Vorishnov knew what needed to be done. With cold, emotionless determination, he ordered his driver to move out and head south down the center of the road. When he heard the transmission slip into gear and felt the tank lurch forward, Vorishnov reached down, grabbed the tank commander's override, and brought the main gun to bear on the woods to the southeast where he thought the Germans firing on Dixon and Malin would be. "Gunner, look for a German tank in the tree line to the left."
As they came out of the tree line and began to gain speed, the gunner looked and tried to track but realized that he didn't have control of the turret yet. With no sign of distress or fear, the gunner called out to Vorishnov, "I've got the tree line in sight. Let go of your controls, Colonel."
Releasing the tank commander's override, Vorishnov looked first at the woods, then at the two personnel carriers struggling through the muddy fields. He wondered as he watched if this crew with him realized that he was setting them all up as a decoy, a diversion. Vorishnov knew that as soon as the Germans saw his tank sitting high atop the hard-surfaced road, they would forget the personnel carriers and go for him, the more dangerous target. That was, of course, provided that there was only one German tank shooting. If more than one enemy was in a position to engage them and the two personnel carriers, then he, his crew, Malin, and Dixon all stood a good chance of getting killed, making his sacrifice an empty gesture.
Watching, Seydlitz felt like he needed to say something. He felt the urge to make some sort of correction, issue an observation. Something. But he knew his gunner had seen his first round strike short. The gunner had yelled out a short, crisp "Shit," while he continued to track his intended target and correct the lay of his gun.
So Seydlitz said nothing to the gunner. From his position, half in and half out of the turret, he watched the loader fumble about with the large tank cannon projectile. Now he wanted to speed up the loader. Shouting at him, of course, wouldn't do any good either. The loader was a good man and there wasn't anything that Seydlitz could say or do at this moment that would improve his performance. With nothing to do, he stuck his head out of the open hatch, looked across the field at the two personnel carriers, and waited.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the gunner announced, "Shooting now," just as Seydlitz caught sight of the American tank, its gun aimed directly at them as it came charging south down the hard-surfaced road at full speed.
"Enemy tank twelve o'clock in the wood line." Jerking his head to the left, Vorishnov caught sight of the German tank's muzzle blast. Doing as he had seen Dixon do, Vorishnov dropped to his sight, yelling as loud as he could on the way down, "GUNNERSABOTTANK!"
In unison, the gunner and loader yelled out, "IDENTIFIED!" "UP!"
Without a pause, Vorishnov responded, "FIRE! FIRE!"
The heat and the brilliant bright flash of the penetrator impacting on the front of the turret's armor plating blinded Seydlitz. Though his tank did not blow up and the onboard fire extinguishers kept the tank from burning, Seydlitz was now blinded, his gunner was dead, and the loader, panicked by the whole process of being hit again, abandoned the tank, fleeing into the woods just as the artillery mission Vorishnov had requested came crashing down about them. He would survive, making his way to the next tank just before it pulled out of position and, like the rest of Seydlitz's company, withdrew to the east away from the battle to regroup.
That the battle was over was not immediately evident to Cerro from where he sat. Looking out over the vast open field, he had watched with macabre fascination the duel between the personnel carriers, the German tank, and the American tank that had come charging down from the north in an effort to save the personnel carriers. That the tank had managed to save one of the personnel carriers was both fortunate and, considering the intensity of the battle, lucky. Before turning back to the matter of finding out what was happening within his own battalion, Cerro looked back at the road north of the farm. He watched for a second as the tank came up and stopped on the road, shielding the two personnel carriers from any future attacks from the woods to the east. On the left side of the road, Cerro studied the two personnel carriers through his binoculars. He could see that they were now sitting side by side, with the crew of the undamaged personnel carrier working frantically to pull out the crew and passengers of the damaged personnel carrier before it was totally engulfed by flames. On the hard-surfaced road the tank stood motionless, guarding the carriers and their crews.