Chieftains

Podini fired. The explosion of the shell was unspectacular. 'Come on Gins…come on…move your ass…'

'Loaded…'

'Go you shit…' The XM1 surged as Podini fired again.

'Okay…move out, Adams,' shouted Browning.

Adams slammed the Allison transmission into reverse and spun the XM1 sideways, then ten meters back along the gulley into the open field. As he did so the hull vibrated to the rapid explosion of a dozen high explosive rounds in the hollow where they had been hull-down. Adams changed to forward gear and accelerated fast. He hit the low wall and the XM1 bucked wildly, the stone glancing off the hull like shrapnel and scattering into the darkness.

Browning hadn't seen the gun's third shell strike. Near the first bridge the fuel bowser was still blazing furiously. He thought he could make out the position of the anti-aircraft gun, and was bringing the.5 to bear when the entire strip of ground that was his night vision horizon burst upwards in a blinding flash of white fire. He saw trees blasted out of the ground, and huge pieces of unidentifiable debris hurled from the centre of the explosion. The tight was so fierce he was forced to cover his eyes with his hand, but the vision of the towering explosion remained. The XM1 hit the shock wave as though it were being driven into a deep snow drift.

'Christ!' Browning didn't know whether Podini was cursing or praying.

Adams had his feet on the brake and the XM1 was almost stationary.

'Keep her going, Adams…move the cowson…' Browning found that so long as he was looking directly towards the raging fires near the bridges he could see, but the remainder of the landscape which had formerly been twilight through his night-sight was now pitch-black.

The whole stretch of woodland beyond the dump where the missile launcher had been conceded was blazing, as though a hundred napalm bombs had been dropped within the small area.

'HE, I told you it was HE,' Podini was shouting joyfully. 'Boy, see that rocket go…Jesus Christ…'

A Russian truck was being driven furiously but blindly on a diagonal collision course towards Utah. Browning expected Adams to change direction; he didn't. Utah struck the truck a third of the way along the body, tore it apart and tossed the wreckage high into the air. The tank shuddered. Behind them the front end of the truck somersaulted across the field shedding bodies, and then burst into flames.

Browning began using the.5 machine gun, concentrating on the riverbank where some of the anti-aircraft defaces had been positioned. He could not see a clear target, but hoped his bullets were encouraging the AA gunners to keep their heads down. 'Adams…right a bit…Podini…go for the bridges…' As he spoke the nearest bridge erupted into a mass of fire and twisted metal. 'Forget it…leave them to the BGS…hit the transports.'

Podini was firing as fast as Ginsborough could get shells and charges into the breech, and Adams had cut the speed again, keeping Utah close to the cover below the hill. The first of the PG-7 anti-tank rockets exploded three meters ahead, followed by a second more to the right. Adams accelerated. He saw a group of infantry twenty meters ahead and drove for them; three chose the wrong direction and were pulped beneath the XM1's tracks.

Two shells fired by one of the twin 23mm anti-aircraft guns shrieked off Utah's Chobham armour, the third exploded on the turret ring, failed to penetrate, but jammed the Cadillac Cage turret drive.

Podini yelled, 'Let's get the fuck out of here…'

Utah rocked as an anti-tank grenade exploded close to the hull. Browning could see a platoon of enemy infantry charging towards the hill. 'Okay, Mike…let's go.'

Adams spun the tank, the violence of his action tossing Browning against the equipment which surrounded him. Adams, like Browning, had lost most of his night vision. Now that Utah was heading into the darkness he could see nothing, and they were closer to the river than he realized.

The NATO bar mine, ploughed into the riverbank the previous night by US Engineers, exploded under the rear of the tank, tearing off the track, rear bogeys and drive wheel, and rupturing the fuel tanks. The driving and fighting compartments were filled with a fine mist of diesel fuel. Utah stopped dead as the transmission locked solid.

Browning knew they had only seconds before the fuel would ignite and Utah burst into flame. He yelled: 'Bale out, guys…' He rammed the hatch open and climbed on to the hull. He could see Ginsborough pulling himself from the loader's hatch nearby. Podini's head and shoulders were close to him, he grabbed them and lifted the man dear of the turret, pushing him off the hull before jumping down beside him.

'Where's Mike?' Podini shouted the question wildly.