Chapter 164: The Polish Campaign (27)

The TKS tanks in the original time and space only had one 92mm Type 25 machine gun, and they had no chance of winning against German tanks other than the Type 1 tank.

However, the strong combat effectiveness of the German tank forces in the Spanish Civil War this time put great pressure on the surrounding countries. Countries such as Britain and France are developing their armored forces at full speed, while countries like Poland, whose military industry is not very developed, can only transform existing tanks.

Now their TKS tanks are equipped with 37mm Bofors anti-tank guns! They want to get a larger caliber tank gun, but the 37mm gun barrel is already against the sky under the limitation of the TKS's small bean-like body.

But the shot just now was like tickling the German tank armor. The commander of this Polish tank unit knew that it was impossible to penetrate the German tank armor at this distance.

Now he has only two choices, the first is to retreat, and the commander shook off this idea in less than a second. Because he knew that once he retreated, not only his own tank regiment, but also the cluster behind him would be in danger of destruction. For the sake of his comrades behind him and for his motherland, he must stop the tanks of these invaders. Buy enough time for the army group to smoothly withdraw to Kutno City.

The second one is very radical. Since he failed to penetrate at this distance, he can only close the distance and fire, rush into the enemy's tank group and hit their side armor. He doesn't believe that the side armor of German tanks has such abnormal defense.

"For Poland! Drive away these invaders!!" The commander roared, and his tank took the lead to leave the woods and rushed towards the German tank group not far away!

"For Poland!"

"For Poland!"

A roar broke out in the woods, and a small TKS tank came out of the woods and followed the commander on both sides, bravely rushing towards the German tanks.

The commander of the German sharp knife company saw through the intentions of the group of Poles who rushed towards them desperately. "These bastards are going to fight us with bayonets! The whole company retreats at full speed, shooting as they retreat! We can't let them get close to our side armor!" If these Poles had tungsten core armor-piercing bullets, even the frontal armor would be in danger at a close enough distance.

As he spoke, a stream of fire came out of the muzzle of the company commander's tank, and in front of the black smoke, the armor-piercing bullet flew out, targeting the enemy tank that rushed out of the woods first.

It wasn't that he knew it was the enemy commander's tank, nor did he have any deep hatred with him, it was just a matter of convenience.

When he saw the black smoke coming out of the opponent's muzzle, the Polish commander was startled, and before he could say anything, he seemed to hear a crash, and then he knew nothing. The armor-piercing bullet seemed to have hit a piece of tofu, and it easily penetrated the turret armor of this little tank, penetrated the driver and the commander's body, and then went out from behind the turret.

"Boom!" A second later, the tank exploded, and the turret was blasted into the sky. But it only weighs 6 tons, so even if it explodes, it won't be very spectacular!

"Quick, retreat! Keep loading!" In this spearhead company, only his crew had participated in the Spanish Civil War, and the other crews were novices. The last round of shooting only destroyed five or six tanks of the enemy.

The gunner of Wittmann's crew was complaining. "Damn it, I didn't hit it. That thing is too short."

"Loader, change to high-explosive shells." This small tank doesn't need armor-piercing shells, even if the high-explosive shells explode next to it, it will be enough to eat a pot.

At this time, the Polish tankers had stepped on the accelerator, and the 46-horsepower Fiat-122 gasoline engine roared, pushing the tank forward at a maximum speed of 40 kilometers per hour (1 meter per second).

The German tanks were reversing at a speed of 7 kilometers per hour (9 meters per second), and they had to stop and shoot from time to time.

The distance between the two sides was constantly shrinking, and it was less than 200 meters. As the distance got closer, the Germans' aim became more and more accurate. They had destroyed one-third of the Polish tanks, but the remaining guys were determined to die with them and pressed forward madly.

"Boom!" Wittmann's tank fired again, directly hitting the Polish tank on the opposite side. This was their fifth victory, but Wittmann did not feel the slightest bit of excitement. Looking at the Polish tanks getting closer and closer, he seemed to be able to feel the bloodshot eyes of the other tankmen.

"Oh my God! The No. 5 was hit!"

These Poles did not charge silently, they fired while charging, but without a two-way stabilizer, who knew where the shells would fly, and the No. 5 tank was very unlucky to be hit by a shell on the side armor and slowly stopped.

A Polish TKS tank rushed to the side of the No. 5 tank and fired an armor-piercing shell at almost zero distance!

"Boom!"

The No. 5 tank exploded instantly, and the impact of the explosion even overturned the Polish tank that fired next to it.

"Damn it!" Wittmann cursed quietly. "Keep firing!" He had already seen two Polish tanks rushing towards him. The distance was too close, they could only fire one shot at most, and the remaining Polish tanks would go around to their side, and then they would have to follow the footsteps of the Type 5 tank!

The gunner aimed at the Polish tank on the left, and Wittmann saw that the Polish tank on the right had already aimed its gun barrel at his side armor.

Boom!

At this critical moment, the tank suddenly exploded, but the tonnage difference between the two sides was too big. The explosion of the German tank could overturn the Polish tank that was close at hand, while the explosion of the Polish tank did not affect Wittmann's tank at all.

"???" What happened? Wittmann, who thought he was doomed, suddenly breathed a sigh of relief and opened the turret cover at risk to see who saved his life.

I saw rockets falling from the sky hitting the remaining Polish tanks. Those rockets seemed to have eyes and blew up seven or eight Polish tanks at once.

The roar of the engine flew over his head. He saw an Il-2 attack aircraft numbered 203, which kept firing rockets. Every dive attack could harvest several Polish tanks.

Soon, with the cooperation of ground tanks and air attack aircraft, the Polish tanks were slaughtered.

"Awesome!" After exclaiming, Wittmann asked the electromechanical operator to contact the attack aircraft in the sky. "Hey, brother No. 203, thank you for saving my life."

"It's a small matter." The other party's voice came with the creaking sound of electronic interference.

"What's your name? I'll buy you a drink when I'm free."

The other party replied. "Hans Rudel."

"Nice to meet you, my name is Michael Wittmann."

Although there were some losses, with the annihilation of this Polish tank regiment, there was nothing that could resist the steel torrent of the German army.

The German army took the opportunity to pursue and defeat the four infantry divisions of the Poznan Army Group retreating along the highway in one fell swoop with the cooperation of the Army Air Force bombers. Two cavalry brigades were severely damaged. Only some Polish soldiers got into the forest to escape the fate of being killed or captured.

The Lodz Army Group was also defeated.