Advance to Contact ...

Source

The driver paused for a moment, his eyes were starting to ache from the dim lighting at his position. There were a couple of lamp bulbs which needed replacing and supply just didn't have them at the moment.

"You know how it is, friend, shortages everywhere. You're lucky you've got fuel and ammo for your crate. Now move on."

He frowned at the memory of the supply sergeant's dismissing his request out of hand. The man hadn't even checked his inventory. Granted, things were hectic at the moment. But he could have checked, right?

He thought about putting that little incident in his letter home, then realized that would never get past the censors. Ah, I could tell them about the meal we had last night, that was special ...

As he put pencil to paper, a drop of water splashed onto the letter, smearing a line he'd just written. He muttered an oath, shook the paper to get rid of the moisture, then prepared to write some more.

Damn it. Another drop of water.

Condensation? As he looked at the hatch above his position he saw what was going on, the hatch seal seemed to not be properly seated. He reached up, loosened the lever holding his hatch closed, pushed it up a bit, then pulled down hard and twisted the lever

Good, no leak. He watched the spot where the water had come in for another second.

Damn.

Another drop was forming.

He shifted in his seat to move his letter writing activities to a drier location.

He waited for a second. As he watched the drip fell, missed the page, but hit his wrist and went into his sleeve.

Shaking his head, he went back to his letter. With a small "pop," the dome light failed.

Realizing that he needed to turn the engine over shortly, he folded his letter and put it away. He tapped on the dome light, nope, dead.

Rummaging in his storage bin, he found a spare for the light. Fumbling in the half dark, he managed to get the old bulb out and the new one in. As he finished, the tank commander yelled down at him.

"Fire the beast up!"

Source

The rain was falling harder now. It didn't bother the three vehicles making their way down the forest track as the ground was still firm. But it did bother the three men standing in their turrets. Being buttoned up would keep them dry, but it wouldn't keep them alive.

The attack was supposed to be a surprise, the infantry had found and identified the first enemy position just before sunset.

"Two tanks and some infantry in a halftrack."

"That's it?"

"We watched them until it was too dark to see anything further, then we came back. The infantry are in foxholes, one of the tanks is hull down, looks like they dug it in themselves, the other tank was further back. But that's all we saw."

The commander nodded. He checked his map, where the enemy was reported covered the road to the first big town near the border. Well, near as in twenty kilometers, this area was sparsely populated. The road followed a fast flowing river for much of its length, narrow, passing through thickly wooded hills, it was a good spot and could be held with very few men.

At least it could hold up an advance until the main defensive line further to the rear could be brought to full alert.

"All right," the commander said, turning to the man who would lead the probe, "take your platoon down there and smoke them out if you can."

"I only have three vehicles, Sir. Will there be infantry support?"

"No, can't spare them, but take this." The commander handed the platoon leader a piece of paper with radio frequencies and call signs on it.

"Artillery support, how far back are they?"

The commander looked at his map again, "They're at the edge of their range, but should be close enough."

The platoon commander sighed as he remembered that little conference. At least they had established communications with the artillery. He figured they'd pin the enemy, then call in the artillery.

Source

The driver switched the engine off, silence ruled once more. He looked out of his periscope, it was still too dark to see anything. He reached back and tapped the loader on the foot.

"What?" The man was surly and wasn't a popular member of the crew. The commander had plans to be rid of him when they returned to their main camp. But for now, he was here.

"Ask the Skipper if it's still raining."

The loader scowled but did as requested. After a muttered conversation with the commander, he leaned into the driver's position.

"Yup, the rain has stopped, fog's coming in now. Can't see shit out there."

"'Kay, thanks."

The driver decided to pop his hatch and see what he could do about the seal. From the way the water had been dripping in, if they went into action it would go right down the collar of his coverall. He didn't want that, he wouldn't even wish that on the loader!

He popped his hatch, using his hand held light he inspected the seal. Ah, right there. A tear in the material, he'd have to bug the quartermaster for a replacement. Or get used to being wet everytime it rained.

Source

The gunner had his face pressed to his gun sight, he could catch glimpses of the road ahead through the fog. Tough but better than sitting in the dark and ...

A flash of light, someone with a torch perhaps. It was there, then it was gone. He reached over the breech block and slapped his loader. When the man looked at him, he said over the intercom, "Light ahead. Someone's up there."

The commander had seen it too.

"Get ready, that has to be the post the recce spotted."

Switching to the platoon frequency he ordered his men, "Echelon left, we've got room there, prep for action. Three, load HE, two stay with AP. Wait for my shot."

The sun would be up in less than an hour. Some of these men wouldn't see another sunset.