“Faster, Junge!” ordered von Schroif, and Magda picked up speed as she came down off the incline of the hill and sped up across the open ground. The KV-1 would have to wait. This once in a lifetime target was just too good to miss. The mud was making progress difficult, even for the enemy. In their arrogance, the T-34s slowly making their way up the hill each presented him with the coveted rear shot.
At that moment the ever alert von Schroif noticed a new danger; a Soviet tractor pulling an anti-tank gun raced from the forest and took up position in the open. The Russian crew spilled out and began working frantically to get the gun into action. At this short range there was no chance that Magda would survive a hit. There was no time to load with high-explosive, but, instinctively, driver Bobby Junge knew what to do.
“Anti-tank gun, 200 metres, 12 o’clock. Overrun attack!” ordered von Schroif.
Magda’s engine screamed as the panzer streaked towards the gun in a desperate race against time. It was a near run thing. Just as the Soviet gunner threw his first shell into the breach, Magda crashed into the gun, which buckled as it was forced backwards. There was insufficient mass to destroy the tractor, which now flew into reverse and careered towards the forest.
Bobby Junge tried reversing, but the tangled wreck of the gun was now intertwined with the panzer.
“Halt,” ordered von Schroif.
Everyone knew the KV-1 could wait. The perfect target had appeared. It was a tank man’s dream and was too good to miss. Stretched before them, rolling slowly up a steep hill, was the entire column of T-34s.
Wohl needed no second invitation and loaded with armour-piercing. Knispel knew instinctively what his commander required. The Kampfwagenkanone barked out and a shell smashed through the rear deck of the lead T-34, which was now approaching the crest of the hill on the rollbahn. With no room to pass the stricken T-34, the Russian column immediately ground to a halt, and some vehicles began to slide backwards. With ruthless efficiency, Wohl and Knispel picked off the rearmost tank, which was still on flat ground. The Russian column was now boxed in, halted and immobile.
Von Schroif watched in satisfaction as many of the halted machines slithered backwards and crashed into each other. Normally, he would have ordered the T-34s taken prisoner and put into action against their former masters. Beutepanzer had been pressed into service since 1941, and an influx of fresh machines would be welcomed by Hauptscharführer Rubbal and his team, but his blood was surging from the death of the comrades in two of the tanks under his command.
“Now, you bastards, now it’s your time!” He watched in grim satisfaction as, one by one, the Soviet tanks were targeted and blown apart by the experienced team of Wohl and Knispel.
As Magda, still entangled with the wreck of the anti-tank gun, edged forward between shots, the lurking KV-1 gradually came into view. In the excitement of finding the new target von Schroif had momentarily forgotten the KV-1, and he was horror-struck by what he saw. The monster was hull-down in a superb defensive position, backed up against a wall. A mound of earth protected her flank and the whole area was further obscured by the debris from the flattened panje hut. He wouldn’t be able to get in behind her! Worse, the turret was swivelled in the opposite direction, which spelled death for the remaining four tanks of his Kompanie. He couldn’t have chosen a better spot himself. There was only one option left, hardly an option at all, and there was little or no time left…
“Wendorff! Tell the others to concentrate on the T-34s. Knispel, let’s give him a little notice that we are here.”
Otto Wohl knew there was little point in wasting a hollow-charge round on the turret of a KV-1, so he selected the Kanone Granate rot Panzer, the standard armour-piercing shell, identified by its red band, and in an instant Knispel had aimed and fired the round. The projectile flew from the short barrel of Magda’s main gun, streaking towards the turret of the KV-1 at 385 metres per second. The short delay felt like a lifetime, but Knispel’s aim was perfect, and two and a half seconds later there was an almighty metallic flash as the speeding projectile hit the turret of the KV-1 and gouged a small piece of metal from the massive structure before ricocheting harmlessly skywards amid a huge cloud of white smoke and sparks. The sound of the violent clash reached them a few moments later.
“Well, we certainly rang the doorbell,” whispered Knispel, as slowly the turret of the KV-1 began to turn. There was no possibility of a penetration, but the round had done its job. The deadly 76 mm gun would soon be brought to bear against them.
“He knows we’re here now,” intoned von Schroif. “Knispel… we only have one choice left, can you do it again?”
“Jawohl, Hauptsturmführer!”
“Load with hollow-charge.” The command was really a question, but it was superfluous. In moments like these, von Schroif inevitably deferred to the superior hunting instincts of SS-Hauptscharführer Knispel. Michael Knispel mistrusted the accuracy of the hollow-charged Granate Holladung. From his cramped position, Wohl knew what Knispel would require for this one vital shot and had already rammed another red-ringed Kanone Granate rot Panzer into the breach.
“Junge! Bring her to a halt by that tree to the left, facing 45 degrees to target.”
It was a scant hope, but von Schroif knew that the oblique position had the effect of presenting more armour to a projectile striking Magda’s frontal armour. He had already calculated that, at their current distance, if the panzer was positioned at 45 degrees relative to the KV-1, they should, in theory, have enough protection to survive a frontal hit.
“I’ll do what I can, sir,” replied Bobby Junge, “…but I’m not sure that the repair is holding!”
The massive turret of the KV-1 continued its turn. There was now no doubt about it. They had been spotted.
“Now, Junge! Schnell! Vorwarts!”
But, instead of a surge of speed, Magda crunched to a grinding halt. The already weakened track had given way under the pressure from the entangled anti-tank gun. There was nothing left but to try the impossible.
“Range 1100,” announced von Schroif.
“962, sir,” countered Michael Knispel.
“Take the average,” commanded von Schroif, as the KV-1’s gun started to turn ever closer towards them.
“By my calculation, that’s also 962, Hauptsturmführer,” replied Knispel.
It was now all or nothing. This was their only chance. Von Schroif either went by the rule book average, or he trusted his gunner.
“Alright… 962!” barked von Schroif. “Fire!”
This was it! At a range of less than 1000 metres, if Knispel missed, the next shot from the KV-1 would blow Magda to smithereens. Knowing that this could be his last moment on earth, even the godless Hans von Schroif said a brief prayer to himself as the 75 mm Kanone Granate rocketed from the short barrel and sped towards the KV-1. The impossibly small target was not the tank itself, but the gun barrel of the 76 mm main gun, which was now revealed in almost perfect profile as the turret of the KV-1 swung slowly towards them. Exactly two and a half seconds later there was a flash and a shower of white hot sparks, then the welcome sound of a hit.
The wait seemed like an eternity as the smoke cleared, but then came the heaven-sent sight of a shattered, smoking barrel on the KV-1, neatly penetrated by the armour-piercing shell deliberately aimed and fired by Knispel the poacher… from exactly 962 metres distance.
The small cheer from Magda’s crew was drowned out by the screaming whistle of armour-piercing, hollow-charge and high-explosive shells as the four remaining panzers opened up on the confused jumble of T-34s. As fire began to spread through the column, the Soviet crews sought desperately to escape. All the while, the survivors of Kampfgruppe von Schroif cold-bloodedly stuck to the task of destroying the remaining Russian tanks, without a hint of mercy.