Munitions Empire

Two tanks almost simultaneously struck each other, and the No. 4 tank's shell pierced through the enemy's turret armor, while Dahua's tank also penetrated the No. 4 tank's hull armor. The usually composed commander of the No. 4 tank felt as if his tank had been heavily slammed by a battering ram. His head nearly smashed against the steel hull, and the violent noise made his hair stand on end with fear. Almost instinctively, he lifted the hatch above him, bellowed an order to abandon the tank, and then scrambled out. Even though the No. 4 tank had been refitted with a diesel engine, which greatly reduced the risk of sympathetic detonation, instant abandonment after being pierced remained an unquestionable lifesaving measure. The gunner also pushed open the side hatch and darted out of his own tank. The cold air around him rushed over his face, immediately sobering him up quite a bit. Without even checking to see if he was hurt, he and the commander took off from the tank, running desperately towards the distant woods. The driver and the mechanic quickly followed after them, both of them fortunate, as there was no sign of blood on their clothes. The shell that had pierced the tank hadn't harmed them but had instead destroyed the gearbox and the radio equipment between them. But not everyone was so lucky; the loader hadn't left the tank, so he must have been wounded or killed instantly. No one dared to look back at him, nor did anyone have the courage to search for him. They could only run across the battlefield, riddled with flying bullets, towards a safer place. Soon, behind them, the No. 4 tank was once again hit by an enemy tank shell, which emitted a deafening clang. The shell left a black cavity on the side skirt of the tank's hull. Immediately following, the remaining ammunition inside the tank detonated sympathetically. The explosion set the tank ablaze, the fuel burning relentlessly, illuminating the surrounding trees with its flames, which burned fiercely even amidst the drizzling rain. "Damn it!" The commander cursed as he ran, thinking of his comrade who had most likely been burned alive inside the tank. There was a concealed shell scrape up ahead. He took a leap and jumped into it. In his clumsy rush, even his wide-brimmed cap flew off, landing by his feet. The mechanic and the driver also jumped into the shell scrape. The gunner who was running a bit slower, was hit by a bullet on his shoe, another bullet struck his heel, shattering the back of his shoe. When he finally jumped into the shell scrape and saw the smoking sole of his foot, he swallowed his spit in fright. Today might have been his lucky day, having narrowly escaped Death's scythe twice. "You guys sure run ugly," commented an old grenadier lying in the shell scrape, watching the distant battle. "Next time, if you get a chance, you can demonstrate how to run a bit more elegantly," the commander, who had just realized his headset was still around his neck with the wire torn by himself, said as he drew his pistol from his waist. He had an MP5 submachine gun in his tank, but his escape had been too panicked and hasty to consider fetching any weapon. "Did the tank's fire suppression system work?" He asked, as it only now occurred to him in his anxious flight that he had a report to write. "You can talk about that if you manage to make it back alive," replied the old soldier, extending his assault rifle and aiming the muzzle of his Type 56 assault rifle at a distant target. "Another tank is charging up here!" Upon hearing the veteran soldier's words, the commander crawled to the edge of the shell scrape and looked out. Beside their burning No. 4 tank, a Dahua Empire Type 1 tank was slowly maneuvering around. "Damn it, if our tank were still here..." The commander watched despondently as his own tank burned and the enemy tank moved to pass by its wreckage. He clenched his fists and complained. "Infantry is following behind... this is going to be tough to deal with," the old soldier murmured, equally frustrated after seeing the Dahua infantry accompanying the Dahua tank. With so many men following close to the tank, launching an attack on it became rather inconvenient. These Dahua infantry weren't practicing any sophisticated infantry-tank coordination; they were simply huddling near the tank to avoid incoming bullets out of fear. As these troops were preparing to bypass the burning remains of the No. 4 tank and advance on Tang Army's position, two more shells fell, striking to the left and right of the group. The close range explosions devastated the advancing Dahua Type 1 tank, leaving it immobilized on the spot. From the Tang Army's position, one could clearly see the Dahua tank crew, popping open their hatches and scrambling to escape the vehicle. The other shell hit the midst of the Dahua soldiers, sending over a dozen of them flying. They suffered heavy casualties and ended up retreating in chaos. The Dahua tanks that hadn't reached the tree line began to back up, and the Dahua infantry following them also started to retreat. The Tang Army breathed a sigh of relief. In fact, they had lost their only support—the No. 4 tank was still burning in the light rain, flames stubbornly flickering at the engine grille on the rear of the hull, resistant to being extinguished by the rain. The Tang Army soldiers began to clean up the battlefield, killing those enemy soldiers who were not yet fully dead, then moving the bodies away from their positions. Despite wearing raincoats, the Tang Army grenadiers were still drenched, and fighting in such gear was not an easy task—it made it very difficult even to pull out a magazine from the chest. The four tank crew members who had lost their tank didn't even have raincoats, but they didn't leave; they stayed to help. They were lucky, at least when the tank was destroyed, they managed to escape in time and didn't lose their lives. Braving the rain and wearing sodden clothes, the four crew members came to the side of their tank and saw its charred hull and the turret that was blown off to some distance. Then they also saw the Dahua Military's tank that they had destroyed last, and on the hatch of the tank, half a body was protruding—then the blackened corpse of a Dahua crew member, charred by fire. The group didn't dare to approach their own Tank No. 4, because they were afraid of smelling the pungent odor left by burning fat. Or to put it more bluntly, they were frightened of seeing the loader's corpse. So these men came to the enemy's tank wreckage instead, where the unwelcoming odor didn't seem so nauseating anymore. "Damn it, these bastards attacked us while we were dealing with the disaster, they are really despicable," the electrical mechanic said through gritted teeth as he kicked a corpse. For safety, he was holding a Beretta 92F pistol for self-defense, now the standard personal weapon for all pilots and tank crews. The tank commander also used the same model of weapon, but he discovered something surprising. In the bushes next to the enemy's tank, he saw his own loader. "What the hell! What are you doing here?" The commander, holding his pistol, looked in surprise at his subordinate, covered in mud. "I, I ran in the wrong direction," the loader said, a bit embarrassed. He had been very strong, but his recent actions didn't match his intimidating appearance at all. He had jumped out of the tank through the side hatch of the turret just as it was hit by a shell. Although Tank No. 4's defenses weren't great, it had a lot of escape hatches. Each member had their own exit, making evacuation and ammo resupply much easier. The loader ran into this thicket without thinking and then realized he had strayed from the main force. Dahua Empire soldiers were everywhere, and in his fear, he quickly hid in the bushes and played dead. The good news was that in the chaos no one saw him; the bad news was he had been wounded in the thigh by friendly fire. It was such an absurd situation, the enemy had retreated haphazardly, and the wounded loader eventually realized he had been cut in the thigh by a fragment from friendly fire. The retreating Dahua Empire soldiers, who found him bleeding, thought he was a corpse and didn't bother with him before leaving. Surviving by playing dead without firing a shot, the loader was indeed lucky to have lived through the battle. The commander immediately laughed, not caring how his loader had cowardly hidden in the bushes to play dead. What mattered to him was that his loader was still alive. The electrician and the driver who rushed over also broke into laughter, and the gunner, walking in mismatched shoes, came over and started laughing foolishly as well. Unnoticed, the rain got heavier, and it seemed the enemy's attack had temporarily ceased. So, they supported the injured loader and returned to their own positions. The medic hurried over and removed the sharp shrapnel from the loader, who was uncertain whether to consider himself lucky or not. In the rainy conditions, bandaging was impossible, so the crew members could only make a simple stretcher to carry the injured man back to the field hospital in Li Family Village for better wound treatment. When they left the woods, they saw a supporting assault gun and two reinforced Tank No. 4s arriving. If these allies had been there earlier, perhaps their tank would not have been destroyed, and they would not have been in such dire straits. But that's war, and not everything goes smoothly. Both sides are doing their utmost to fight, and good luck is just that—luck in the truest sense. Soon, a new round of Dahua Empire artillery bombardment began, but after about a dozen shells, it stopped due to the heavy rain. In the misty rain, all combat plans were reluctantly halted, with Dahua's commanders waiting for subsequent artillery and troops to catch up. And the Tang Army waited too, for their ammunition and reinforcements to arrive, for more heavy equipment to come, for a bright and clear tomorrow.