Bright Sword: The Flowers of War

Chapter 92 Encounter

As Li Zongren had predicted, John's tank company encountered the tank squadron sent by Seya Keishi near dawn in the eastern suburbs of Teng County.

The morning mist, like a veil, enveloped the fields outside the eastern suburbs of Teng County.

Qiao Erdan gripped the tank control lever tightly, his hands tense from the force.

The tracks creaked and groaned as they rolled over the damp earth. Through the observation window, he saw a metallic glint in the distance through the bushes… the gun barrels of Japanese tanks gleamed coldly in the morning light.

John, the train conductor in charge of observation, suddenly growled, "Ten o'clock!"

Before the words were even finished, a shell tore through the fog and hit the tank turret squarely.

The massive shockwave and impact force caused the advancing Chaffee tank to jolt violently. The heat wave, carrying debris, slammed against the armor, making Qiao Erdan's eardrums ring.

He jerked the steering wheel, and the tank nimbly spun around, the mud kicked up by the tracks splashing onto the observation window, blurring the view like spilled ink.

The radio crackled with calls, but Qiao Erdan could only hear his own heart pounding. He saw ten Japanese tanks advancing rapidly in a wedge formation more than 300 meters away, their cannons spitting out orange-red flames.

The battle ensued, with ten Type 95 tanks facing off against nine Chaffee tanks.

Logically, both types of tanks are classified as light tanks by their respective countries, but in reality, there are still significant differences in their performance.

The Type 95 light tank has a curb weight of 6.7 tons, a combat weight of 7.4 tons, a crew of 3, and is equipped with a 37mm Type 98 L/37 tank gun.

Since its introduction to China, this tank has inflicted enormous damage on the Chinese army, which lacked anti-tank weapons, due to its speed and maneuverability.

But today, when it encountered the Chaffee tank, its weak armor (the thickest armor is only 12 mm) was instantly exposed.

In contrast, the Chaffee tank, weighing 18.4 tons, while not particularly thick in armor, still boasted a 38mm turret armor and was equipped with an M6 75mm tank gun capable of easily penetrating almost all light tanks in the world at a range of one kilometer.

As soon as the two sides met, three Type 95 tanks were turned into fireballs by the armor-piercing capped shells of the Chaffee tank, and one tank even had its turret blown into the air.

On the other hand, even if the Chaffee tank were hit, given the pitiful armor-piercing capability of the 37mm Type 98 L/37 tank gun equipped on the Type 95 tank, it would be virtually impossible to cause significant damage to the Chaffee tank unless it was hit from the rear armor plate (which was 19mm thick).

That wasn't all. Halfway through the battle, the Japanese tank crews were horrified to discover that the Chinese tanks on the other side were also equipped with a large-caliber machine gun (M2 12.7mm Browning machine gun).

This machine gun can easily penetrate the armor of friendly vehicles at a distance of 500 meters (the frontal armor of the Type 95 tank is only a paltry 12 millimeters).
Later, not only the Japanese, but also the Chinese armored troops discovered this.

"you……"

Realizing this, John patted Zhuang Xiaoman, who was in the passenger seat on the right, and shouted, "Go out and use the anti-aircraft machine gun on the roof of the car to kill those sons of bitches!"

Soon, the turret hatch was violently flung open, and the scorching metallic smell mixed with the odor of gunpowder rushed out.

With a loud bang, the bolt of the M2 Browning heavy machine gun was pulled back. Zhuang Xiaoman, his veins bulging, gripped the machine gun handle tightly and pulled the trigger, aiming at the Japanese tanks that were faintly visible ahead.

The ammunition belt gleamed coldly in the sunlight, thrashing wildly with the roar of the machine gun, and scalding hot shell casings pounded against the armor plates like raindrops, making a crisp clanging sound.

Amidst the smoke, the orange-red flashes of the Type 95 tank's gun muzzle could be seen, and the piercing whistling of shells tearing through the air pierced the eardrums. The young tank crewman didn't even notice that his lip was bleeding from being bitten, letting the salty, metallic taste spread in his mouth.

He mechanically pulled the trigger, ignoring the recoil that made his wrist ache, his retina filled with the scarlet trails left by the tracer bullets.

Bullets whistled past the turret, but the tank crews, blinded by rage, paid no heed and fired relentlessly forward.

Even as their uniforms were burned by the flying sparks, no one flinched. They simply buried themselves deeper into the steel bunker, as if pouring all the anger that had been building up over the years into their guns.

Bullets rained down on the armor of the Japanese tanks, and the sparks that flew up were like firecrackers on New Year's Eve, illuminating the young faces soaked with oil and sweat...

On the banks of the Sishui River, behind the tank company, the pontoon bridge swayed slightly in the morning sun. The turbid river water, carrying withered branches washed down from upstream, kept slapping against the makeshift pontoon bridge.

Su Yaoyang's military boots were stuck in the mud, and the damp hem of his uniform was covered with the fishy, ​​pungent smell of the riverbank. He watched the rows of soldiers quickly crossing the pontoon bridge, feeling extremely anxious.

Since departing from Gaoyou, the troops have not been able to get a full night's sleep for three consecutive days.

However, what worried him most was the vanguard led by Huang Guantao.

Last night, we received news that the tank company encountered a Japanese cavalry squadron in Wolf Valley. After the firefight, the Japanese cavalry squadron was annihilated, but no one knows if any more Japanese troops are on their way. All he can do is urge the main force to speed up and get there.

Unfortunately, a torrential rain had just fallen the day before, causing the Sishui River to swell rapidly. As a result, the engineering company had to stop the troops behind them and work through the night to reinforce the pontoon bridge until dawn, allowing the troops to continue their advance. However, this meant that another night was wasted.

But that's how war is; all sorts of unexpected things can happen.

"Beep beep..."

The muffled sound of the truck engines came to an abrupt halt, kicking up a cloud of mud and water. More than a dozen Dodge trucks and five or six SdKfz 251/8 half-track armored ambulances stopped behind Su Yaoyang.

As the convoy came to a stop, the doors opened, and dozens of military boots slammed heavily onto the muddy ground, making a dull thud, followed by a series of chirping sounds.

"Hurry up... We've been on the bus all night, everyone's exhausted, let's get off and stretch our legs..."

"Ouch... help me up... my legs are all numb..."

Who stepped on my shoe?!

Accompanied by the sounds of singing girls, Su Yaoyang turned his head and saw that the convoy of the medical team had arrived.

Su Yaoyang squinted as he watched the slender figures, whose slender forms, though still visible in their field uniforms, sway in the rain and mist.

A young nurse with a ponytail was hopping on one foot, her brand-new military boots bearing a prominent half-muddy footprint. She was biting her lower lip, her eyes slightly red.

"What are you all standing there for? Get out of here! Those who need to use the restroom, go to the bathroom; those who need to rest, go to the restroom!"

As soon as a crisp shout rang out, several nurses scattered like startled sparrows. It turned out that Song Mei, the head of the sanitation team, had arrived.

(End of this chapter)