Middle Eastern tyrants

Chapter 76 The Chief's Invincible Status is Broken
at the same time.

Ibrahim's 17th Mechanized Infantry Division is encircling Sergiad from the south.

"At our current pace, we'll soon be able to control the road from Sergeid to Gaim. Then their radar and artillery won't be so easy to withdraw," the adjutant reported, pointing to the map.

Ibrahim stood in front of the map table in the M113 armored command vehicle, where staff officers used colored pencils to mark transparent celluloid sheets indicating the positions they had already controlled.

As planned, he deliberately left a gap of about three kilometers to facilitate the escape of the defeated army in Zion.

He nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over the dense markings on the map. He turned to the communications soldier: "Have the tank company advance in a wedge formation, with armored vehicles and infantry companies bringing up the rear. Conduct fire reconnaissance in platoon units, and don't overlook any suspicious cover!"

So the M60A1 relied on the thickness of its frontal armor, while the M113 armored personnel carrier mounted a heavy machine gun and opened fire on any suspicious areas, not even sparing bushes.

Just then, a flash of light appeared on a reverse slope on the left.

The commander of the M60A1, Said, shouted immediately, "11 o'clock! Anti-tank missile!"

The missile whistled through the air and exploded after grazing the side armor of the M60A1.

The explosion nearly flipped the M60A1 over; Sayed felt the left side of the vehicle fly up and bounce back to the ground.

The driver was knocked unconscious, but even if he hadn't, the tank probably wouldn't have been able to move.

Sayed tried to open his mouth wide to relieve the tinnitus, and then he felt something flow into his mouth. He reached up and touched it, and found that it was his nosebleed.

"vomit----"

The tank crewman struggled to sit up, but vomited directly into the turret.

"What's wrong?" Said asked.

"It's nothing, just vomiting."

The pungent smell instantly filled the small space, and Said was somewhat relieved that his nose was temporarily blocked.

“We can’t stay here any longer, we need to get out of here. Come on, Omar!”

Said and the gunners hurriedly dragged the unconscious driver out of the tank, while the self-propelled howitzer battalion laid down their fire, turning the missile launch site into a sea of ​​fire.

Looking at the tattered side armor, Said felt his back was about to be soaked with sweat, not because of the heat, but because he was just one step away from death.

The news quickly reached Ibrahim, who promptly made adjustments: "Deploy the division's self-propelled howitzer battalion and, based on the coordinates relayed by the scouts, conduct a slow-advance barrage, focusing on eliminating anti-tank missile positions."

"Yes, sir!" The communications soldier quickly relayed the order.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Scout Saleh lay prone on the edge of the dry riverbed, sweat dripping down his helmet strap.

The artillery battalion of a mechanized infantry division needs scouts like him to provide coordinate guidance in order to provide precise fire coverage.

However, perhaps because the fighting in the north was too intense, the density of the ambush positions in the south did not meet their expectations.

His gaze swept inch by inch along the reverse slope of the olive grove's edge, and suddenly, he saw the camouflage netting.

In the recessed area that had been simply concealed, the lower half of a Centurion tank was hidden in the pit, with only the gun barrel visible above the upper half.

Suddenly, a Zion soldier appeared out of nowhere. Saleh's face stiffened; he was certain the soldier had seen him.

He heard the other person yelling something in Hebrew—but he ignored it, rolled behind cover, and immediately reported via radio:

"This is Peregrine One. A Centurion has been spotted in area B-7, hidden on the reverse slope at the edge of the olive grove. Requesting fire support!"

Three kilometers away, the M109 self-propelled howitzer slowly raised its barrel. The gunner received the coordinate parameters and loudly repeated:

"Aim 273, range 3200, fire, three rapid-fire rounds—fire!"

Amid the whistling sound of shells tearing through the air, Saleh saw the first shell miss its target, exploding into a cloud of dirt.

The second shot corrected the landing point, blowing the olive tree away by its roots.

The third shot hit the tank turret ring directly, and the exploding ammunition blew the turret ten meters into the air, with burning fragments raining down.

That Zion soldier hasn't appeared since; he must be stuck in the pit. "Target cleared."

Saleh breathed a sigh of relief and continued to feel his way forward.

His boots crunched on the scorching sand.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Private Yair of the 58th Armored Brigade in Zion huddled in a foxhole, listening to the constant stream of bad news over the radio:

"The 7th Infantry Company needs reinforcements!"

"Our defenses have been breached!"

"mom!"

Just then, the platoon leader's voice suddenly came through his radio: "Hold on! The reserve armored battalion has arrived!"

Armored battalion?
Yair felt a glimmer of hope. Yes, they still had an armored battalion!
In the distance came the familiar roar of diesel engines. Major Jacob of the 34th Armored Battalion of Zion commanded his Chieftain tank, observing the enemy's movements.

"There aren't many enemy tanks ahead, and they also have infantry fighting vehicles. They should be a mechanized infantry regiment." He radioed the entire battalion's tanks, issuing the order: "Charge! Annihilate them all!"

Based on the Zionians' past combat experience, once an opening is torn in the Arab battle line, their morale will immediately collapse.

Previously in Al-Iraq, there were even reports of a Zion tank crew that single-handedly shattered an Argentine infantry company, causing the enemy's morale to collapse, which became a laughing stock.

Unfortunately, Major Jacob did not expect that they were not facing an infantry regiment, but the vanguard of an infantry division.

This time, Shuangzhi's mechanized infantry division even equipped individual soldiers with anti-tank rocket launchers. Within a range of 200 meters, as long as the side is hit, it can basically disable the tank.

In addition, there is the M109 howitzer equipped with high-explosive shells, and tank destroyers similar to the AMX-13.
But Major Jacob was unaware of this. Looking at the thirty-odd Chieftains behind him, he was full of confidence and gave the order again: "All of you, crush them!"

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"The anti-tank team is in position!" the staff officer reported.

As the order was given, twelve M551 Sheridan light tanks slowly emerged from behind their bunkers, their gun barrels protruding.

These tin cans, pieced together with aluminum alloy armor, have a nickname in the United States: "crispy coffins."

Because the electronic components of the 152mm Oak Stick missile system are too complex, it must be shut down for cooling after each three consecutive shots, otherwise the fire control computer may crash at any time.

Previously, due to the strained relationship between the two countries, Lieutenant General Yousef ignored Lu Lin's warning and acquired a batch of retired M551s from the United States.

However, because the armor was as thin as a soda can and had an extremely high failure rate, even the people of the United States disliked it.

(M551 Sheridan light tank (Oakstick missile variant))
But this doesn't stop the Ministry of National Defense from sending these treasures to the front lines. After all, in their view, a light tank is still a tank!

Ibrahim: "Target locked, fire!"

When Major Jacob first saw this strange-looking thing, his immediate reaction was that something was wrong.

"Why is this main gun so thick?" (He mistook the missile launch tube for the main gun.)

Major Jacob immediately ordered the Chieftain Tank to brake sharply, and smoke grenades exploded around the vehicle, as the smoke-launching system produced by the United Kingdom came into play.

However, several MGM-51 "Oakstick" missiles still pierced through the smoke screen and slammed into the Chieftain's frontal armor.

In an instant, the metallic jet from the missile explosion pierced through the gun shield, burning a fist-sized crater into the hard composite steel. Then, countless high-speed fragments bounced wildly inside the fighting compartment, instantly turning the commander and loader into a bloody mist.

Subsequently, the flying metal stream ignited the ammunition rack in the turret's stern compartment, and the shockwave from the secondary explosion directly lifted the turret ten meters into the air before it finally pierced the sand.

With a loud "boom," scorching flames erupted from the cracks in the vehicle's body, turning the fifty-ton monster into scrap metal in a single encounter.

Major Jacob's Adam's apple bobbed.

The myth of the Chieftain's undefeated frontal armor was shattered at this moment.

　Thank you Zhou Shijie1987 for the 23 monthly tickets!
　　
　
(End of this chapter)