The scene ahead had been witnessed so many times in the past few months with only the location and circumstances varied. The lead tank sat burning like a roman candle. As the burning fuel ignited the rounds of ammunition, it sent fireballs up through the turret hatches. The command tank sat motionless with its hatches open, its crew huddled helplessly against the wall, unable to do anything but watch.
The crew of F-14 was now engaged with the enemy and the German gunner set his sights on them. the next round went across the bow of the third tank just under their 76mm cannon. It struck the masonry wall sending shrapnel and stone fragments through the air. The driver, a seasoned veteran, stepped on the accelerator, changing speeds while trying to avoid a direct hit, but the next shell hit the tank, penetrating just behind the crew compartment and through the gas tanks. The sound of the 88mm hitting the tank hull was like a sledgehammer. The dull thud with its shock waves was unmistakable. At this point, there was no nobility in staying with the tank because it was like a burning coffin. The driver and assistant driver were out first. The loader was next to exit through his hatch in the turret with Lieutenant Jones, the tank commander, following out of his hatch on the top right side of the turret.
The other crews that were huddled by the wall counted each man as the came out and hoped they all would make it before the tank was totally consumed. As the Lieutenant came out, they noticed he tumbled and fell off the side of the tank and lay next to the track. His head was bleeding and he was motionless.
"The Lieutenant's hit! We need to get him away from that tank," Derald said with his voice raised excitedly.
"He might be dead already," said the Captain, "And I'm not risking anyone for a dead man!"
Inside the tank, Cap found himself alone and unable to bail out through his normal hatch. Burning fuel was now running into the turret where the 76mm ammunition was stored. As he squeezed under the gun, he pulled the two D-ring fire extinguishers that momentarily put out the fire. Grabbing his carbine, he went out the loaders hatch and over the right side of the turret. When he hit the ground, he landed next to the Lieutenant and noticed a piece of shrapnel protruding from the top of his head.
"Get away, get away, it's on fire!" screamed the Lieutenant.
"I know it's on fire, but you're going with me!" Cap yelled. He bent down to pick-up the Lieutenant and just then, a round from the German 88 crashed through the turret like a rock through a paper sack. With the Lieutenant in tow and his carbine in the other hand, Cap made his way to the wall.
"What are you doing? Get down, they'll shoot at you!" yelled Blackie, the gunner of the command tank.
"What in the hell is he doing?" The Captain muttered under his breath.
As Cap climbed the side of the command tank, he yelled back, "I know where that German gun is, Captain." When the first round was fired at his tank, he saw the smoke from the gun. Instantly he marked the range and location in his mind to be used if the opportunity was available. So confident in his gunnery skills, he was willing to take on the German gun, one on one.
He dropped thru the hatch of the command tank into the gunner's seat and pressed his face into the 8x gun sight. Now he felt comfortable, a calm came over him as he was once again in his element. He began to traverse the turret, hoping at that range the German gunner would not notice. Slowly, ever so slowly, he pulled the gun across until the target came into view. With the target in his sight, he set the range for 900 yards, which elevated the gun to its proper angle. With the cross hairs fixed on the target, he squeezed the trigger of the gun. The thirty-four ton Sherman shuddered with the recoil of the gun. At that precise moment, an American artillery round screamed overhead toward the same target and the German gun was silenced. Shared glory is better than no glory, shared victory is still a victory, but nevertheless, a bronze star effort was reduced to the everyday activities of war.
With the German threat gone, the three tank crews that had taken shelter by the wall began to evaluate the damages. The first and third tanks sat burning, their service to the war effort ended on an obscure section of railroad track in Germany. Captain Thomas was already in the turret of the command tank calling up the T2 tank retrievers to clear the tracks.
"Ridg, do you see what I see?" asked Blackie. The grain elevator had cast a long shadow from the morning sun across their tank. The shadow had actually cloaked their tank from the view of the German gunner, making it somewhat invisible in that light.
"That's why he skipped over us," said Derald.
"What a stroke of luck!" exclaimed Blackie.
As they waited for the T2 crews to clear the tracks, Derald stood mesmerized by the shadow that covered his tank. Lost in thought with time standing still, the words of the old minister returned to him again. "He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty," shadow of the Almighty...shadow of the Almighty. The command "Mount up!" broke the stillness of the moment and reminded him there was a day to survive and a war to win.