Shirad could hardly believe his eyes. The opponent's t－62s actually paused at a distance of fifteen hundred meters. Every tanker knew what that pause meant—a brief stop indicated the enemy was preparing to fire.
When did T-62s start firing from such a distance? Were they just wasting shells? The Iranian armored soldiers inside their Chieftain tanks thought with disdain.
Simultaneously, the commanders of the t－62s issued the order to fire.
Almost at the exact moment the T-62s launched their shells, the Chieftains began firing as well.
Within 0.1 seconds, the shells burst from the barrels, discarding their sabots and extending four tail fins. Each armor-piercing projectile flew toward the target like a high-speed dart.
At nearly the same time, the t－62s began a desperate acceleration.
The most effective way to deal with incoming armor-piercing shells is rapid maneuvering. Shells aren't missiles; they are aimed before launch. As long as a tank moves a certain distance during that flight time, it can successfully evade the shot and survive the hail of fire.
The Chieftain's 120mm cannons were incredibly powerful. If they hit, there was absolutely no chance of survival.
Conversely, their own 115mm smoothbore guns struggled to penetrate the Chieftain's front armor at such a long distance; they only truly dominated within a range of one thousand meters.
However, the T-62 tank commanders weren't fools. They were aiming at the Chieftains that had their rears turned toward them.
In tank design, armor thickness varies. The thickest part is the front armor, followed by the sides, while the weakest is the rear armor.
Because the Chieftains were lined up to deal with enemies coming from three sides, Shirad had split his tanks to face three directions. Consequently, those turning to face the enemy on the left would expose the rear of their turrets to the enemy on the right.
The Chieftain's turret was a welded design, unlike the low-profile turrets emphasized by the Soviet Union. European tanks had relatively tall turrets, which made it more comfortable for the crew and easier to store ammunition in the rear of the turret.
However, this design undoubtedly increased the target area.
Although the T-62's aiming accuracy wasn't very high, they had the advantage in numbers, using a battalion of tanks to face a single company—a three-to-one ratio. While the Chieftains had superior fire control systems, their weakness was obvious: they couldn't move and could only sit there and take the hits.
They had no time to pray to allah. After firing their shells, everyone except the drivers immediately got busy, reloading the second shell to prepare for the next shot.
The T-62 drivers, however, were at their peak concentration. Using both hands and feet, they shifted gears and accelerated to escape the danger zone.
The Iranians were too cunning, firing at the exact moment of the pause. Their timing was incredibly precise.
The three major indicators of a tank are firepower, mobility, and protection. Although the T-62's engine didn't have much horsepower, its body was lighter, giving it a slight edge in mobility.
However, this was a marshland. The soggy soil restricted the T-62's acceleration.
The unluckiest were several tanks that, due to the powerful recoil when firing, had their rears sink into the mud. Their tracks spun uselessly, unable to climb out.
The shells from both sides flew over the battlefield almost simultaneously.
Every time the driver of one struggling T-62 stepped on the gas, the dozens of tons of steel would shudder, yet it couldn't break free from the muddy ground.
Just as the commander was flying into a rage, an armor-piercing shell pierced the unlucky T-62. A massive jet of molten metal surged into the turret, instantly killing the three men inside. The shell then entered the turret interior and detonated the ammunition waiting to be loaded.
Boom! After a massive explosion, the tank's turret flew into the sky. The driver in the front was instantly killed by the shockwave, bleeding from his ears, nose, and mouth.
Compared to the T-62s, the Chieftains weren't faring much better. Many of their large turret rears were struck by armor-piercing shells.
The Chieftain used two-part ammunition. In the rear of the turret, there were about twenty propellant charges, which immediately turned into powerful bombs.
One by one, the Chieftains met their end in the sounds of secondary explosions, laid to rest on the newly paved concrete road in the marshland.
Shirad heard the massive explosions behind him, but he couldn't afford to worry about that now. He continued to order his first battalion to keep firing!
Benefiting from a relatively advanced fire control system, the Chieftain tank had a rate of fire of 8-10 rounds in the first minute, but that was only the theoretical rate. In practice, it was limited by many factors, the greatest being the physical exhaustion of the loader.
Each tank had four crew members: a driver in the front and three in the turret. The commander was in charge of direction, the gunner was responsible for aiming, and the most physically demanding job—loading the shells—belonged to the loader. In the cramped space, enduring deafening noise, the loader had to wait for the spent casing to be automatically ejected, clear it from the hull, then load the projectile, load the propellant, and close the breech. The physical toll was immense.
At this moment, a very strange scene unfolded. The tanks surrounded in the middle were firing shells frantically and incessantly, yet they remained stationary like fools, allowing themselves to be destroyed in the next moment. It was as if they were just trying to take as many enemies with them as possible before they died.
The T-62s continued their assault. Their weakness was also apparent; although they had fired from fifteen hundred meters, their hit rate was low. It took an average of six shells to hit a single tank. Therefore, they were all desperately driving forward to close the distance.
Ali was covered in dust and grime. His tank had just fired six shells in a row without hitting a single target—a true disgrace for a tanker. Meanwhile, Allad from his own company seemed to never miss, single-handedly taking out four Chieftains.
Now that they had charged within eight hundred meters, it was his time to shine!
Ali abandoned the inoperable fire control system and went back to his old-fashioned method: visual aiming!
Sometimes, one's own eyes were the most reliable.
He rotated the commander's periscope, counting the numbers on it.
"Azimuth 253, distance 682, one armor-piercing shell," he shouted.
The gunner followed up by aiming through the periscope, adjusting the firing parameters, and completing the pre-firing preparations.
"Fire!" The gunner slammed the firing button.
Thump! The massive vibration churned their stomachs as an armor-piercing shell flew out of the barrel.
"Battalion Commander, we can't just stay here. We have to move! These are tanks, not bunkers!" Shirad heard a voice over the radio.
Shirad suddenly realized he had made a grave mistake. No armored unit commander would be so foolish as to let their tanks sit still and take a beating; tanks had to be in motion!
It was already too late. Only five tanks remained in his first armored battalion, and the path for retreat was blocked.
"Charge down and take out those wretched Iraqi tanks!" Shirad finally gave an order that seemed wise.
Rumble... The drivers had long been impatient. The Chieftains that could still move were finally no longer passive and launched their counterattack.
"Destroy everything that moves!" Muhammad also turned ruthless; over a dozen of his tanks had been taken out.
Once they left the concrete road, the drivers immediately felt the massive Chieftains becoming uncontrollable. Without any steering input, the hulls began to tilt sideways of their own accord, and the tanks failed to accelerate even when the gas pedals were floored.
In contrast, the lighter T-62s, while also struggling, did not lose control. Their advantage in maneuverability and flexibility was once again clearly demonstrated.
The T-62s circled to the Chieftains' sides, effortlessly sending them up in smoke.
The encounter ended within twenty minutes. By then, the Chieftains were nearly wiped out. Of the thirty-six tanks, all but two that were stuck in the mud had been destroyed with their crews.
While the hundred-plus T-62s had lost nearly twenty tanks, this did not dampen the Thirty-Fifth Brigade's resolve, for they had won.
Before Muhammad could say a few encouraging words over the radio, he saw a large number of tanks approaching in the distance. It turned out the force they had just destroyed was only the vanguard. From the looks of it, there were at least a hundred and fifty Chieftains!
By this time, the previous battle had already left the T-62's attack formation in chaos.