In short, the Challenger II was completely impervious to destruction by any anti-tank weapon that would ever be developed in WWII. Period. The enemy might get a lucky hit and damage the tracks, but do little else, and tactical deployments could prevent track hits easily enough. There were places on the tank that were more vulnerable to good hits. The flank and rear were not as well protected, but Bowers instinctively sensed this, and gave an order to back up so his tracks would be just below the elevation he had scaled. Then he squared his frontal armor off to the enemy and began lighting up targets. His tank was effectively “hull down” where its tracks were below the sight lines of the enemy guns while its imposing armored turret remained above to engage. And when these Desert Rats attacked, they would ravage their enemy completely.
The gunner had good thermals on the German Pakfront now, and the big 120mm gun began to fire. One, two, then a third 88 battery was blasted away, and the remaining gunners, astounded to see their rounds glancing harmlessly off the enemy tank, had the good sense to run their rigging drill, gun the hauler’s engines, and begin a hasty retreat to the rear. Only seven of the twelve guns would survive. Bowers tank had single handedly defeated Rommel’s heavy flak company, meant to anchor this end of the German line and stop any attack through this defile cold. The defense here broken, he would now lead his 15 Challengers forward to a position where they could begin ravaging the German infantry positions of the 5th Machine Gun Battalion.
The call came out-infantry!
“Sabre one to Ruby Red. Ready on that short order. The main course has been served. Bring out the Bubble and squeak.”
“Copy that, Sabre One. Bubble amp; squeak it is!”
Bubble and squeak was a traditional English dish made with the leftover vegetables from a full roast dinner. It was mixed with potatoes and fried up, named for the sound of the dish frying in the pan, which would bubble and squeak. But in this case it was meant to indicate a second course, the leftovers after the Challengers had eliminated the primary long range AT threat to the Warriors. It was the handle Bowers had assigned to 1st Company, the Mercian Battalion, waiting to be served.
Old habits were well ingrained. Bowers had defeated the enemy’s long range gun defenses, but now he had open ground, at least two kilometers, to cross. There could be infantry dug in anywhere out there with fistfuls of RPGs. Reeves might have told him not to worry about that. The Germans had no effective man held anti-tank weapon at this stage of the war, but Bowers radioed back to his supporting Warrior company in any case, calling up the IFVs. His tanks had two MGs each, but the Warriors had that nice upgraded 40mm Bofors autocannon, and it would provide superb suppressive fire on infantry positions while he determined what else was in front of him.
He got on his Sabre channel and passed the word. “Tally Ho, gentlemen. We’re leading in the charge. Follow me!”
The deep engine growled and the heavy tracks lurched the tank forward. They came out of the defile and onto the stony plain, gathering speed like a storm of steel. Thermals were hot, picking up enemy positions ahead, and he could hear his men tracking, marking targets, and firing. In the heat of battle he had to remind himself of one last order from Kinlan’s briefing. They had to watch their ammunition count very carefully. He got on the radio to remind his tankers of just that.
“Be stingy with main gun fire, boys. Use it only if you must. We’ve got Warriors right behind us.”
Off in the distance the Germans infantry of the 5th Machinegun Battalion could see and hear the awful thunder of those fifteen Challengers on attack. The dust rose, still red in the ruddy dawn, and something was coming at them from another world, a bolt from the blue, a power that no man among them could ever redress in this first mad hour. The tanks would crash into the German line like elephants treading down ant hills. The Germans watched them come, their machine guns and 37mm AT guns firing furiously, but to no avail.
And so it began…
The shock of the attack was complete. Even though the Germans were a well trained and disciplined force, they had no answer for the storm that came out of the blood red morning that day. The 88s had been positioned on and around a hill feature designated 198 on Bowers’ map. It lay to the left of the thin track that ran north, with the wadi on the left. The first three Challengers to be engaged had taken out the AT guns with accurate return fire, and three guns had managed to retire behind the hill heading north, their crews shaken to see their rounds striking the enemy tanks, but unable to harm them in any way. The best German defense against tanks had been defeated almost before it could acquire a target!
