Impasse (The Red Gambit Series)

by Gee, Colin

  As the edge of the forest started to declare itself ahead, Hamuda halted his two tanks in cover and gestured to Kagamutsu, who understood his commander’s needs precisely.

  Armed with an MP40, the Sergeant-Major dismounted his tank and moved quickly after his officer.

  The two dropped and crawled the last twenty yards to the edge of the woods.

  Without his binoculars, Hamuda could see enough. With them, the problem grew fourfold, although the opportunity that was presented also tantalised him.

  His mind quickly worked the issue and came up with a resolution.

  “Sergeant-Major, if I call it in, we’ll strike to this point and break off towards those vehicles there, having stopped to make sure we kill them.”

  Kagamutsu understood his officer’s concerns; the enemy vehicles looked dangerous, the size of their guns evident even to the naked eye.

  He pointed out the infantry positions.

  “Keep your distance from those... and we’ll just cut straight across the enemy position. Clear?”

  “Hai.”

  The doubt originated from a lack of knowledge on Hirohata’s status.

  A flurry of fire from the woods a mile away to their right.

  Hamuda’s decision changed instantly.

  “Right. The Marquis has run into enemy. If nothing else, that’s a distraction. We move now. Go!”

  The two ran back to their waiting tanks, quickly briefing the infantry before they mounted up and the Panthers leapt forward.

  It was Sakita’s Panther that had opened up the battle in the woods, swatting away a group of astonished GI’s.

  The 20th may not have seen much fighting in Germany, but there were few in the unit’s ranks that couldn’t recognise a Panther tank, even in the colours of the Imperial Army.

  Hull and turret machine guns lashed the short undergrowth, putting down a number of soldiers permanently.

  Angling his tank, the driver evacuated his bowels as the trail of a bazooka shell rose towards his face.

  The rocket clipped the driver’s episcope, diverted, and nicked the top of the mantlet, neither contact sufficient to cause it to explode.

  The bazooka shell detonated against the bough of a tree, some thirty yards behind the Panther.

  There was no chance for the crew to reload, as the driver took revenge for his embarrassment by running the pair down.

  The two other Panthers shook out behind Sakita, with Hirohata in the centre.

  The infantry component stayed level with the tanks, selecting anti-tank threats for special attention, leaving the armoured vehicles to enjoy the harvest.

  The lead platoons of Bloomquist’s Charlie company fell back in disarray, moving back past the advancing Shermans from the 27th Tank Battalion’s A Company.

  The tanks were a mixture of four M4 easy eights and two M4A3E2 Jumbos, both with 75mm guns.

  War can be peverse sometimes, and a wood would never be considered as tank fighting country, but the first tank versus tank engagement of the newly-arrived US Army in Southern China occurred in the woods, west of Route 487.

  Sakita growled at his gunner, talking the man onto the target that was steadily moving forwards.

  “Driver. As soon as we fire, move on up to that big tree head and angle left.”

  The gun roared and the Panther surged forward instantly.

  “Baka!You missed!”

  The accusation could not be refuted, as the chunky looking tank started to weave towards a clump of bamboo near another large tree.

  Its gun belched flame and a solid shot struck the side of the Panther without penetrating.

  A tree trunk prevented the Japanese tank from turning its long barrel, buying the American crew the opportunity for a second shot.

  The 75mm struck the Panther’s mantlet and flew skywards.

  Onboard the Sherman Jumbo, and not for the first time, voices condemned the lack of penetrative power of the 75mm gun. The commander screamed at his idiot gunner for firing at the thickest armour on the enemy tank.

  The Panther edged forward, permitting its gun to bear and placed such thoughts beyond the American tankers. They died as the AP shell slammed into the Jumbo, the extra armour of the Sherman easily defeated by the close range of the battle.

  Hirohata engaged an Easy-Eight to his front, and watched as his shell punched its way through the driver’s front plate.

  Hatches were thrown open, and a wisp of smoke followed the bodies abandoning the damaged tank, the commander slower than the rest, his severed left leg lying in the well of the turret.

  “Again.”

  A second shell helped the American on his way, the explosion lifting him up and throwing him into some bushes, the thick growth offering a soft landing pad from which he crawled away, as best his wound permitted.

  The third Panther, on the left end of the line, destroyed another Easy Eight with its second shot, the crew abandoning the Sherman as it transformed into a fireball.

  At ranges of no more than two hundred yards, the tanks stalked each other in the undergrowth.

  “What the goddamned hell? George!”

  Bloomquist shouted back.

  “I’m on it, Colonel.”

  Edgar Painter could guess, but wanted proper information before he committed himself.

  The infantry commander moved across the headquarters.

  “Colonel, they ran into tanks and infantry. Your boys have already lost three and my lead platoons have fallen back.”

  Painter leant past Bloomquist, enquiring about the tank unit.

  The signals officer had bad news.

  “Nothing, Sir. Nothing at all. Can’t raise them and there’s no command net traffic from Crowther.”

  The CCA commander understood what that meant.

  ‘Crowther... one of the new boys... the skinny one?’

  He summoned up a mental picture of the man he now considered dead, and dismissed it just as quickly.

  “Right. Any more on the enemy, George?”

  “Three tanks, plus at least a company of infantry.”

  “Types? What sort of tanks, George.”

  “No info as yet, Colonel. I’ll get my boys to hold, but they’ll need some support.”

  Painter looked at the tactical map.

  “The Combat Engineers. We will swing them up behind you.”

  The map taunted him in a couple of places, mines indicated in areas where the enemy now would not go, courtesy of a four legged discovery.

  “Hell, they can put some mines down in front of your positions. No need to dig them in, just get them lined up and stop the bastards. I’ll pull two of the TDs too, George. Backstop for now, but maybe we can move ‘em up later eh?”

  The Jacksons received two messages, one shortly before the other, and from very different sources.

  Firstly, from the RCT commander, ordering two of the powerful SP guns across the valley and up in support of the hard-pressed left flank.

  Two of the Jacksons pulled out and moved off to the west.

  The second message was unequivocal, and without need of words.

  A high-velocity 75mm shell took the rearmost tank destroyer in the engine compartment, wrecking it completely.

  A second shell sought out the other Jackson and penetrated the thin turret rear, exiting the nearside front armour, just to the left of the mantlet, having passed through the gunner and loader on its inexorable advance.

  The TD commander came apart mentally and started to scream, the awful sight of his gun crew immediately flipping his mind.

  Driver and radio man needed no second invitation to quit the damaged vehicle, jumping out and heading for cover, even as a second shell arrived and put an end to both the vehicle and the screaming.

  Finally reacting, the two remaining tank-destroyers turned their barrels and prepared to engage the pair of Panthers that had emerged from the woods.

  Within the space of two seconds all four vehicles had fired and the high velocity shells pass
ed each other on the battlefield.

  All missed their target.

  Fig#115 - The Battle of Luxuzhen, Hamuda's counter attack, 15th December 1945.

  “Standby, driver. As soon as they fire their next shot, we’ll halt. Gunner, make it count.”

  “Hai.”

  The reply came in unison and both men steeled themselves.

  A shell streaked across their front.

  “Stop!”

  The Panther came to a halt and the gunner waited briefly as the suspension recovered.

  The 75mm spat its shell.

  “Move!”

  Slowly pulling away, the driver watched as a white blob crossed the divide, seemingly intent on hitting him.

  The clang was incredible, the solid AP shot deflecting off the corner of the glacis immediately to the left of his head.

  Hamuda shouted over the intercom, but he might just as well not have bothered.

  The driver’s hearing was temporarily shot by the stunning impact, and all attempts to get the tank to halt fell on unreceptive ears.

  The radio op’s machine gun started to rattle, as American soldiers started to fire or run, depending on how they coped with the approach of the deadly Panther.

  Hamuda ducked into the interior and slapped the driver’s shoulder, using hand gestures to pass on his orders. The driver immediately steered the tank to the left of the infantry positions ahead.

  Clicking to the tactical frequency, he made a call, completely ignoring the procedures, noting one of the remaining enemy TDs now burning brightly

  “Ashita from Masami. Enemy infantry dug-in in strength ahead. Turn left...,” Hamuda quickly checked the map before continuing, “Move around south of Luxuzhen and rejoin the others. Over.”

  “Ashita. Understood.”

  In truth, Sergeant Major Kagamutsu didn’t wholly understand, but recognised that his commander had just committed them both to a very dangerous course of action indeed.

  The two Panthers, bouncing along at the best possible speed, moved to the left of the infantry position and into an environment filled with unexpected opportunities.

  Ahead was the logistical train of the American force.

  1301 hrs, Sunday, 15th December 1945, Three hundred metres south-east of Luxuzhen, China.

  Kagamutsu was pleasantly surprised, the progress of the two tanks virtually unmolested, save for some hastily fired mortar shells that arrived where they had been nearly a minute beforehand.

  Occasionally a hard target presented itself; jeeps, carts and lorries mainly.

  One of the TD unit’s M20 armoured cars had attempted to draw the two tanks away from a gaggle of lorries.

  Both Hamuda and his senior NCO were impressed with the bravery of the crew in making such a worthless sacrifice.

  Once the armoured car was destroyed, the two Panthers turned their attention to the supply unit, and wiped it out in less than two minutes.

  Beyond that, a group of mule carts containing everything that a Chinese infantry battalion needed for war were the next victims.

  Despite being an animal lover, Hamuda felt he had no choice. Using the machine guns sparingly, the two Panthers fell into column formation and drove down the road, crushing everything in their path.

  A Sherman sporting a 105mm Howitzer tried its hand, planting a shell in the ground only six feet in front of Hamuda’s tank.

  The driver, hearing slowly recovering, was suddenly afflicted by a lack of vision, as a large portion of China was thrown over the front of the tank, blocking episcopes and vision blocks.

  The gunner and radio operator shouted.

  “I’m blind!”

  “Can’t see!”

  Neither could Hamuda, a huge lump of soil and bamboo strewn over the top of his cupola.

  Going from a snatch of memory, he shouted an order.

  “Steer right!”

  They were saved by Kagamutsu.

  The Sergeant Major stopped his tank, making sure that his shell went home.

  The Sherman withdrew, the howitzer now at an odd angle, set in a mantlet distorted by a direct strike.

  Looking at his leader’s tank, it was obvious what their problem was.

  “Masami from Ashita. Enemy tank down. You may halt quickly. Over.”

  “Received.”

  He watched as Masami came to a halt. Small figures emerged to push at the earth and vegetation that had covered the Panther.

  Within thirty seconds, Masami was moving again, sights firmly set on a group of vehicles that were desperately manoeuvring to escape over a small bridge ahead.

  Beyond the chaos at the crossing point, Hamuda could clearly see American tanks reversing out of the woods, firing as they went.

  ‘Midori Takushi’ was too much of a mouthful, so Hamuda cut it down.

  “Takushi from Masami, over.”

  The classical voice of the Marquis Hirohata returned, bringing a smile to Hamuda’s face.

  “Takushi from Masami. We are to your south-east, advancing to the river and on the flank of your enemy tank force. Over.”

  “Masami from Takushi, received. I see you. Suggest you take the tanks in the flank and then we join up at the bridge. Over.”

  “Takushi from Masami. Agreed. Out.”

  “Ashita from Masami, over.”

  Kagamutsu acknowledged.

  “Ashita from Masami. Orient to the north. Watch our flank. Out.”

  “Received.”

  The two Panthers went about their separate tasks.

  1311 hrs, Sunday, 15th December 1945, headquarters, CCA, 20th US Armored Division, Luxuzhen, China.

  “Goddamnit! George, have some of your men reposition to the south-east. The bastards are going round behind us!”

  Bloomquist was on it in a moment, repositioning some of his assets to face the threat of the Panthers moving to the south of Luxuzhen.

  Colonel Painter was doing the same job with some of his own troopers, moving anti-tank guns to cover to the south-west.

  A bazooka-heavy platoon took to its vehicles and pushed south

  The enemy force to his front was cowed, but not yet beaten, the damn Tiger tank proving invulnerable, despite several definite hits on the turret.

  He decided, quite rightly, that the main threat now lay with the tanks to his rear and in the western woods.

  The 413rd’s guns were redirected to the woods, as close as humanly possible to the retreating Shermans and infantry.

  Hamuda had also contacted his artillery, and a steady fire fell amongst the traffic jam at the river bridge.

  Before his eyes, the resolve of the American and Chinese troops broke as the final straw of the Panther’s arrival finished off the work started by the artillery.

  That the Panther was not engaging them, but the US tanks to their west, was missed by the panicky soldiers.

  A rout commenced, as men left vehicles still running and threw themselves into water that offered an illusion of safety. So confused were the soldiers of the CCA's supply train that they failed to comprehend the arrival of more enemy tanks on the other bank.

  The combined US tank-infantry force was now outgunned and outmanoeuvred, Hamuda’s gunner claiming a third kill in as many shots.

  The surviving Shermans and half-tracks made off to the south-east as fast as they could, leaving Hirohata to turn part of his force in towards the river bridge.

  The slaughter of the logistical train stepped up a gear.

  Whilst the bloodletting behind him grew, Kagamutsu spotted the anti-tank guns moving to new positions.

  “Gunner, target, vehicle, right five, eight hundred metres.”

  The electric traverse moved the heavy turret the small distance required.

  “On.”

  “Fire.”

  The gunner had slowly traversed back, leading the M5 tractor and was confident of a hit. The shell missed the fully tracked prime mover and ploughed into the 3” anti-tank gun it was towing.

  Kagamutsu slapped the gunn
er’s shoulder.

  “You lucky bastard.”

  “The ancestors smiled upon me, Sergeant Major.”

  “They can do it again then. Zero, eight fifty metres.”

  Another shell sped across the battlefield, missing its intended target by some distance.

  “Again.”

  The jittery gun crew were bailing out of their vehicle when the HE hit the front plate. The tractor was destroyed and one of the crew was stripped of every appendage and hurled onto the roof of a small hut. He died before a medic could reach him.

  Hirohata’s force had also split, the Marquis himself standing back, overwatching his tanks and infantry as the remaining two Panthers drove hard into the few units that had crossed the bridge unharmed.

  Gradually, the slaughter abated as the three Panthers started to run out of viable targets, the main guns falling silent, leaving the machine guns to pick up off a morsel here and there.

  Perversely, it was Kagamutsu who spotted the new danger.

  “Ashita to all units. Enemy tanks coming out of Dasong. Type unknown. Over.”

  Every tank commander looked south but, with the extra height of his position, it was Hirohata that could see best.

  “Masumi from Takushi. Four enemy tanks on the railway line, coming north. Pershing type, over.”

  Hamuda, always aggressive and equipped with a tank that supported his idea of modern combat, debated quickly.

  The temptation to stay and slug it out with the monster enemy tanks was clear, and very tempting.

  But, where there were four, there could be more, and all of his tanks had taken punishment already.

  His head won the day.

  “Takushi from Masami, over.”

  Hirohata obviously expected the order, which momentarily reassured Hamuda that it was the right one.

  He polished up the finer details.

  “Takushi, stay in the woods but keep an eye on us as we move up through 2nd. Over.”

  Clear on his orders, Lieutenant, the Marquis Ito Hirohata, ordered his two lead Panthers back into cover and melted away before the Pershings could engage.