"Tank battalions, form up in attack formation," Rajavi shouted into the radio from the command vehicle in the rear.
Attack formation? That would mean leaving the road they had just built. In this swampy area, could they really move without obstruction?
But the armored division had no other choice.
The 1st Armored Battalion had just been completely wiped out because they stood their ground in one place. A tank's advantage lies in its mobility; by staying stationary, they became sitting ducks. Rajavi didn't want to make the same mistake.
As long as they could stay mobile, would the T-62's simple fire control system be a match for them?
Hearing the order, the Chieftain Tanks still on the paved road immediately fanned out to both flanks.
As soon as Havardin drove his tank off the paved road, he felt a massive headache. On this kind of surface, maneuvering the tank was extremely difficult. He could hear the engine's roar, but it couldn't effectively drag the heavy chassis along.
However, he couldn't worry about that anymore; the distance between the two sides was gradually closing.
This time, both sides' tanks spread out to the flanks, forming two torrents of steel that could collide at any moment.
The first to make contact were the 2nd and 3rd Armored Battalions.
"Avenge the 1st Battalion!" They looked at the Chieftains with overturned turrets nearby, their eyes burning with rage.
For tanks, the best type of ammunition was still armor-piercing shells.
The loader had already shoved a shell into the breech, the commander was closely observing the surroundings, and the gunner was tensely aiming.
None of them noticed that the most nervous person was the driver.
After entering combat, the driver could no longer drive with his head out. With the top hatch closed, he had to observe through a small periscope. His field of vision was severely limited, and every bit of terrain in the swamp seemed to be working against them; their nerves were stretched to the limit.
Following behind them, the 4th and 5th Armored Battalions had already formed a second line of defense.
At a distance of 1,800 meters, the Chieftains opened fire first.
Huge flames erupted from the muzzles of the 120mm rifled guns as shell after shell flew toward the opponent.
It was a rain of death!
At the moment of firing just now, Havardin had deliberately chosen a patch of seemingly flat ground. The massive recoil from the shot still left him with lingering fear.
Suddenly, he felt the tank starting to slip out of his control. Without him changing direction, the vehicle began to turn left involuntarily.
"Havardin, are you trying to desert?" the commander's angry voice came through the headset. "The enemy is right in front of us, why are you turning?"
"Report! After firing the shell just now, the recoil was too great. It seems the left track is stuck," Havardin said.
Due to the differential, the engine provides power evenly to both tracks. However, if the left track is stuck and cannot move, the right track will rotate more, causing the hull to rotate left involuntarily. This was beyond the driver's control.
Stuck? The commander flew into a rage. "Havardin, how are you driving this tank? I'm telling you, get this tank out of there right now, or I'll shoot you myself!"
"Yes." Havardin offered a silent prayer and shifted into reverse.
Vroom, vroom. The engine emitted thick black smoke. Finally, the hull felt lighter as it pulled out of the spot where it had been stuck.
Havardin was drenched in sweat.
The volley just now had taken out at least a dozen t－62s, leaving the Iraqis almost unable to fight back.
To effectively operate a fire control system and accurately aim and fire at a moving Chieftain Tank from 1,800 meters was a skill Iraqi tank crews didn't yet possess. Even Allad, their star candidate, had missed his first shot.
The Iranians' skill level was indeed very high! Especially this armored division, which was Iran's top ace unit; its combat capability was extremely formidable.
Several unlucky commanders didn't even have time to react before being hit by enemy armor-piercing shells. There was only one outcome: the destruction of the vehicle and the death of the crew.
The internal design of the T-62 tank was even more flawed. Once hit, it almost always triggered an internal ammunition explosion. In an instant, the hit t－62s had their turrets blown off and were completely destroyed.
Muhammad couldn't worry about all that. His tank crews would definitely find it hard to hit the opponent from such a distance. He admired Excellency Qusay's foresight even more: they had to train the tank crews' ability to destroy enemies at long range. If they could all use the fire control system correctly, they wouldn't be in a position where they were just taking hits without fighting back.
However, having just wiped out an Iranian tank battalion, all the soldiers were still in a state of excitement. The destroyed tanks didn't affect their morale at all. They drove their t－62s, attacking without hesitation—attack, attack, and attack again!
For tankers, the attack was everything.
Through his commander's periscope, Company Commander Ali was pleased to discover that over a dozen enemy tanks had become bogged down in the swamp and could not move.
This left him overjoyed. He immediately directed his tank company to head toward those tanks.
Chieftain, this is your grave!
While firing also caused some difficulties for the t－62s, it didn't leave them immobilized. The T-62 tank's lighter hull and wider tracks gave it strong adaptability.
As for the Chieftain Tanks, over a dozen had already fallen victim, stuck in the swamp and unable to move.
They could only keep rotating their turrets, ready to launch an attack on any tank that approached them.
"Charge! Take them out!" Company Commander Ali shouted to his t－62s.
In Allad's sights, he aimed at a Chieftain Tank whose tracks were spinning helplessly.
"Target locked. Requesting permission to fire."
"Permission granted. Halt."
The moment the T-62 tank stopped, Allad slammed the firing button. The heavy tank chassis shuddered.
After firing, the driver restarted the tank and drove forward.
Through the panoramic periscope, the commander saw the targeted Chieftain Tank's armor pierced from the side, followed by a raging fire.
Good job! This was at a distance of 1,300 meters. While other tanks were still closing in, they had already taken out a Chieftain Tank.
"Front 215, mil 418, one Chieftain Tank." The commander assigned a new target.
Clang! The loader had already rammed a second armor-piercing shell into the breech.
Allad pressed the turret rotation button and began his next aim.
The Iranian tank crews were also repeating these actions.
Once the battle began, there was no second choice: take out as many enemy tanks as possible before being hit yourself!
Such is the cruelty of war.
Relying on the advantages of their fire control systems and training, the Chieftain Tanks took out some t－62s at long range when the losses were heaviest. However, once the distance closed, the T-62 tank's advantage of light mobility came into play. They began to counterattack, especially against those bogged-down Chieftain Tanks, which would often be ganged up on by several tanks.
Tanks from both sides fought and slaughtered each other across this land.
One T-62 tank actually broke through two of the enemy's tank defense lines and entered the enemy's armored vehicle formation, immediately "feasting" on these easy targets.
Using a tank gun to hit armored vehicles was incredibly easy. The formation of m113s was instantly scattered.
Several Chieftain Tanks immediately turned back to swarm this threat.
The fires of war continued unabated. Every minute, a tank was hit. This great tank battle proceeded bloodily.
Muhammad felt a bit anxious. Although they had taken out some Chieftain Tanks, their own losses were still greater. Furthermore, the enemy tanks had a numerical advantage; in a head-to-head fight, they were at a disadvantage.
Why haven't the military region's ground-attack aircraft and attack helicopters arrived yet? He was about to reach his breaking point.
Muhammad knew that the Air Force's deployment was always quite slow. He feared they hadn't even finished loading the munitions yet. By the time they flew over, everything here would be over.
It seemed he could only rely on himself.
If the t－62s were wiped out, they would use Type 63 armored vehicles and anti-tank missiles to destroy them. If the Type 63 armored vehicles were wiped out, then the soldiers would step up. Even if they only had RPG rocket launchers, they had to stop the Iranian armored mass in the swamp.
Because this place was very advantageous for them. Once out of the swamp, they would have to make even greater sacrifices.
Rajavi also felt things were getting troublesome. The Chieftain Tank's massive 720-horsepower engine performed poorly here, yet its fuel consumption was enormous.
After the intense combat just now, some Chieftain Tanks had consumed more than half of their fuel. He had to issue an order: "2nd and 3rd Armored Battalions, withdraw from combat and prepare to refuel. 4th and 5th Battalions, continue to hold back the enemy's attack."
Field refueling was also a complex science.
You couldn't wait until the fuel was gone to refuel; by then, the tank would already be a piece of scrap metal.
Nor could they all withdraw at once; otherwise, the enemy would take the opportunity to charge, and their side would surely suffer a major defeat.
Withdraw a portion, retreat to a safe place, refuel, and then rejoin the attack.
The only thing he was grateful for was that the only unit to respond in time was the tank brigade in front of him. If the enemy's air force arrived now, his armored division would be completely finished.
Upon receiving his order, the fuel tankers stationed at the rear base prepared to set out.