Adi tried. “Can’t, Sergeant,” he reported. “That one knocked off the right track.”
“Scheisse!” Witt said. “All right-everybody out! The next one hits us dead center. Good luck, friends!”
Theo remembered the first time he’d bailed out of a crippled panzer. He’d gained a wound badge and lost most of a finger on his left hand. Well, no help for it. The panzer commander was right. He’d end up with the next Russian shell in his lap.
He paused only to grab his Schmeisser-yes, he knew where it was. Then he opened his hatch and scrambled out of the Panzer IV as fast as he could. Bullets spanged off the armor plate. They struck sparks, but they didn’t strike him. Adi got out in one piece, too. They both scurried to the rear of the panzer, to put its bulk between them and, well, everything. The guys from the turret escaped through a hatch in its back.
“Welcome to the infantry!” Adi said with a sour grin. Theo cared nothing for the infantry. He didn’t feel like a foot soldier. He felt more like a snail suddenly torn from its nice, hard shell and transformed into a miserable, squishable slug. He also cared nothing for this attack, which was plainly bogging down. All he wanted was to live to see tomorrow.
FB2 document info
Document ID: fbd-b51753-ce79-8142-729e-969b-921d-8f21ae
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 03.08.2013
Created using: calibre 0.9.39, Fiction Book Designer, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6.6 software
Document authors :
Harry Turtledove
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