Heinrich505

Wise words, finally a competent field commander around these parts, showing real guts instead of pussyfooting around with artillery, fire superiority and all that nonsense!

Excellent work, I'll be watching this series with keen interest. The map looks simply amazing.
I think your narration is spot on, let the video do the talking and just interject when you feel you need to add or explain something to make it clearer for the viewer. In my first CM vids I was jabbering all the way through then I learned to pace it and it seemed to go down better, but I think you've started off like a pro.
Best barrage ever!
 

Erwin,
I played this in WEGO versus the AI at Elite. 
---------------------------Spoilers, of a sort--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I loaded up squads on the panthers, and then advanced slowly, stopping to toss some guys out front and recon a bit before remounting them to move forward.  They (infantry) started spotting the tank killers (after I'd lost some Luchs, unfortunately), and then it was time for the panthers to try and get line of sight on the enemy tank killers.  I had the panthers working in pairs at the very least.  And yes, I did rush the Luchs from hiding spot to hiding spot, almost as if it was a single soldier.  Not very glamorous but I did finally get spots on the enemy tanks and started to take them out.  Once they were either destroyed or backed off, I then repeated the tactic, eventually working my way well up the left flank and way up the right flank.  Once my flanking maneuvers out-flanked the enemy positions in the center, they were destroyed or they retreated as well, which then freed up my center push. 
It wasn't very fast, but it worked.  That damn Jumbo - I hit that thing so many times I couldn't count the hits anymore, but I only killed it much later when I was able to flank it.  Some of those long range hits from my panthers KO'd the main gun, but of course I didn't know that until I was flanking it and it wasn't taking shots that it should have been taking.
I'll add that I took some chances with the wide tracks on the panthers to move across some of that incredibly bog-friendly terrain.  The panthers performed admirably, bogging at times but always freeing themselves up to keep moving forward. 
Just my two cents.  I got a total victory with the AI surrendering.  I did not get to the furthest victory point.  And it was both a challenge and lots of fun.
Heinrich505

Very nice post, Falaise.
There have been many times where a historical battle came to life for me while playing Combat Mission.  I would be starting out a battle and suddenly realize that I'd read about that very encounter in a book.  The mapmakers really immerse you in the physical location as well.  It is, in many ways, an amazing experience more than a game. 
Heinrich505

With much talk centering on CMFI and the upcoming (hopefully soon) release, I played out a scenario that had some great action.  I thought I would share it.
 

It is December 6, 1943, 2:15 PM local time, and Obersoldat Rolf Schenk peers through his binoculars at Villa Roggati.  His uniform is soaking wet, the cold rain running in rivulets down his neck and back.  It drums off his steel helmet with maddening consistency.  He wipes the smears of rainwater off the end of his binoculars, letting out a sigh of frustration.  Things are quiet now, way too quiet. 
He was in town when the Canadians attacked, and his unit had to retreat.  They took up positions just outside of town, and now he has his MG team set up where they can just barely see the town.  He has been tasked to support the coming counter-attack, but Hauptmann Esch has also given him the job of providing intelligence from his vantage point.  He has not been given a radio, so he will have to break away one of his ammo carriers for this task, leaving him a man down.  He is not pleased.
He quietly waves over one of his ammo carriers, gives him specific details, has the man repeat them, and then sends him to the rear with his observations.  Time is ticking inexorably towards the attack time of 2:30 PM.
 

The attack begins, slowly at first.  Artillery begins to fall on the town at precisely 2:30 PM.  Off to Rolf’s left is a PAK, set up to cover approaches into the town.  Suddenly two Sherman tanks are spotted by the PAK gunners.  The tanks ease out from behind a large white building – they are barely visible.  The PAK gun is pointed straight at their location, but a hail of MG fire from the tanks causes the gun crew to duck for cover.  Then they are slowly picked off by the deadly hail of lead, one at a time, until they are all dead or wounded.  Schenk can hear the wounded moaning in pain, but he dares not move from his position to help.  The tanks have that location zeroed in.
 

Rolf hears the distinctive squeal of tank treads as panzers move up to try and duel with the Canadian tanks.  The Germans didn’t have tanks earlier when they were thrown out of the town by the Canadian attack.  Now they do.  He wonders where HQ managed to scrape them up.  If they’d had them earlier, then they would still be in the damn village.  One of his crew mutters that the tankers will deal with those upstart Canadians.  The panzers roar and 7.5 cm shells launch towards the enemy tanks.
 

The lead tank trundles forward under cover of the following tanks.  Oberstleutnant Fuhrmann is trying to gain a flank shot on the enemy tanks.  He has his driver ease past a small shed, his turret already facing the right direction.  Fuhrmann is confident they will get the first shot off.  As his tank barely clears the shed, Fuhrmann stares in shocked horror down the barrel of one of the enemy tanks.  The tank spouts fire, and the first shell rips into the lower front of his tank.
Smoke instantly fills the interior.  He can hear screaming from the driver and radio man positions.  His gunner is already ripping at the side hatch, self-preservation overtaking any thoughts of return fire. 
Fuhrmann is counting down numbers in his head.  He knows a good tank crew can reload in about 5 seconds.  He yells “Everyone OUT!!!” as he reaches up for the…4…hatch.  The lever swings…3…and he throws his back against the hatch.  The hatch flies…2…open and he is looking up at grey sky that immediately bathes his face with cold rain.  He starts to…1…clamber up into the cold rain and he hears the roar of a tank gun.  He realizes that if he hears the gun, the round is already on the way…his last sight is a boiling roar of red flames…
 

View from the Canadian tank – a catastrophic explosion as the kill shot ignites the enemy tanks ammunition loadout.  There are no survivors.
 

In the space of a mere five minutes, the Canadian tank gunners knock out three German panzers.  This view is from the Canadian held town. 
Funeral pyres of the flaming steel coffins rise into the grey December sky.  Fuhrmann’s tank lies in a crater in the road, caused by the giant explosion.  Schenk sees some badly burned survivors run from the other tanks.  He immediately sends his runner back to Hauptmann Esch to inform him that the initial thrust up the center is being blocked expertly by the Canadians.
 

Hauptmann Esch slams his fist down on the hood of his Kubelwagen.  He didn’t rush the armor in.  He was cautious.  Still, the verdammt Canadians are putting on a show.  His right flank is getting blasted by very accurate artillery fire.  He sends out the orders – Left Flank, GO!
Several remaining panzers veer off to the left flank.  They take a circuitous route, bogging at times, but somehow managing to pull out of the sticky Italian mud.  They arrive in time to support the Landsers who are trying to overwhelm stubborn Canadian resistance.  The cowering ground-pounders find new courage with the arrival of the steel monsters, and they rise up to push through the warehouses on the left flank.
 

Pioniere Unteroffizier Hardenberger leads his squad up the same road as Fuhrmann.  He is confident they can work their way along an embankment, concealing their approach.  As they near the flaming wreck of Fuhrmann’s panzer, 7.5 cm shells and machine gun fire tear into his men.  He screams “VORWÄRTS” and sprints towards the shed that appears to be the only real cover available.  Two more of his men crash through the door and throw themselves on the floor, panting with exertion and adrenaline.  Hardenberger can just see the Sherman tank through a crack in the wall.  How the hell did it see us? he wonders.  “These Canadians are possessed by the Teufel,” he mutters out loud.
 

The unlucky Pioniere caught by the enemy tanks…
Fuhrmann’s tank still burns on the road. 
 

Hauptmann Esch receives reports that the left flank attack has broken through into the town.  He orders his command staff into their Kubelwagen and he heads around the left flank to see the progress.
Hauptmann Erwin Ruckdeschel leads the push into the town from the left flank.  His Mark IV Panzer takes a right turn on the first street and eases slowly towards the town center.  He is careful not to outpace the infantry.  Like all panzer men, he hates fighting in the close confines of any town.  Dead Canadian soldiers lay in the street as a reminder that nothing is safe here.
“Feind Panzer, Eins Uhr!” shouts his gunner.
Ruckdeschel’s eyes immediately snap to the one o’clock position.  His gunner had already pointed the turret in this direction moments before, as the driver slanted the tank at a slight angle to increase their front armor effectiveness.  He sees the barrel drop ever so slightly as his gunner lines up the shot.  He has a very good crew.
Following tanks are covering flanks with HE, and he had his loader keep AP in the breech.  He calls out “115 meters.”  This is knife fighting for panzers.  They are so close.  
Erwin sees the enemy Sherman tank starting to round the corner.  Their turret is already turning in his direction.  He smiles, knowing they will be too late.
“Fire!” he shouts, the roar of the cannon rocking the tank.  Smoke fills the interior and then begins to vent.  “Treffer!” shouts the driver.  Now Erwin can see the explosion.  Flank shot.  It is a kill!
Two more Sherman tanks will try to work around their flaming comrade and will meet the same hideous end, brewing up after taking one or two hits.  Ruckdeschel’s crew is putting on a clinic.
 

A forward MG crew has set up in a blown up gasoline station.  The pumps are still standing but the building is rubble.  They took casualties and one of the crew tries to stem the bleeding of his comrade.
In the distance to the right, another squad of Pioniere are also attending to casualties.  Smoke from the three Shermans brewed up by Ruckdeschel are ahead to the left. 
Ruckdeschel and the crew of a Wespe, commanded by Unteroffizier Thylin, systematically reduce the buildings that are sheltering the two Shermans that blunted the initial attack.  Their handiwork can be seen by the MG team, as a field of rubble that used to be buildings now stretch out before them. 
Stabsfeldwebel von Pannwitz tried to ease his Mark IV Panzer slightly past the bus station to get a flank shot on the enemy tanks.  Again the cursed Canadian tanker somehow was already watching.  Von Pannwitz took a shell in the turret, knocking out his main gun.  Obergefreiter Lorenko is now in command and Ruckdeschel does not know if his friend, von Pannwitz, is dead, dying, or merely wounded.  It tears at him but he keeps his focus on the dangers all around him.
 

There is some confusion now, as the battle grinds to a halt.  The two Canadian tanks at the front of the village are stopping the frontal assault and have now stopped the flank attack too.  They are perfectly placed to interdict any movement towards them from the front or from the side street where Ruckdeschel sits.  And, unfortunately, they are very good at their craft.
Hauptmann Ulrich is given hand signals by Unteroffizier Franz Witt.  They are at the front edge of a vineyard and can see the enemy tanks, maybe 100 meters to their front.  Ulrich sees that Witt wants a smoke screen dropped on the enemy tank position.  If that happens then perhaps the tanks in town can get the drop on them.
Franz has something more daring in mind.  He plans to lead his squad into the smoke for a close assault of the enemy tankers.  The Hauptmann doesn’t get that part of the message.
Ulrich calls in the smoke.  The FO is one of the best, and the smoke rounds start to fall in about 3 minutes.  The smoke is now building all over the enemy tanks.  They will be blind.  The tanks on the flank will now be able to advance and once the smoke dissipates, they will have the drop on the Canadians.
Ulrich sees Witt leap to his feet, and start sprinting towards the wall of smoke.  Witt’s squad instantly rises as one and they pound after their squad leader.
Hardenberger sees the smoke and immediately has the same idea as Witt, even though he has no idea what Witt is planning.  One of Hardenberger’s survivors has at least one satchel charge and they can use that on the blind tanks.  He roars to his two men to charge the tanks.  They leap to their feet and begin the crazy charge towards the wall of smoke and probably certain death.
 

Rolf Schenk and his men see the smoke dropping.  There is a silent Mark IV right next to their position, yet another panzer vexed by the skill of the Canadian tankers and knocked out with a single shot.  All the crew got out of this one though.  In front of the berm protecting his men are two dead soldiers from an earlier attempt to sneak through the vineyard.
They have no idea what is being planned, until Rolf sees Unteroffizier Hardenberger and his two men, greatcoats dark against the backdrop of white smoke, pounding across the wet field from the left, heading right for the smoke.  He catches his breath at the daring attack, and one of his men shouts “Sind Sie verrück?”  This echoes his own thoughts – they must, indeed, be crazy. 
They don’t see Witt and his men off to the right, as the smoke has already obscured their equally mad charge.
 

It is chaos and madness in the smoke.  Hardenberger can barely hear anything from the loud pounding of his blood through his head.  Machine gun fire rips the smoke, as the Canadians fire blindly.  He barely hears the screams of one of his men, and he finds himself running just under the barrel of the enemy Sherman.  He has no idea that Witt’s men are also rushing into the smoke.  Witt himself is crawling towards the misty bulk of the enemy steel monster that lashes out at the host of tormentors that mean to do it harm.
Hardenberger rues the fact that he didn’t take the satchel charge himself, as he is now in the perfect spot to attach it to the enemy tank.  But all he can do is run in the smoke, hoping the enemy tankers focus on him and don’t see his men trying to assault it with the satchel charge.  He now seeks some sort of cover as the tank flails the smoke with its machine guns.
 

Franz Witt’s men are among the two enemy tanks.  There is some slight cover from the rubble of a building and some craters from artillery fire.  The smoke is dissipating way too fast – the rain is settling it too quickly.  Dammit, Witt thinks, they only have seconds to live now.
Witt takes cover in a crater and hurls his grenade.  The man to his left – Max, he thinks but can’t be sure – is about to shove a grenade into the front tracks of the tank.  Karl, off to his right, is about to hurl yet another grenade.  All he can do is hold his breath now.  It occurs to him that maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.
 

Witt’s grenade goes off, a cascade of sparks and smoke lighting up the side of the tank.  Two more grenades are heading for the enemy monster.  It is time for them to get the hell out of this deathtrap.  He screams to his men to run.  The enemy tanks open up with their machine guns.  He hears some of his men scream as they are hit.  Everyone runs like frightened rabbits in every direction to confuse the enemy gunners.
 

Erwin Ruckdeschel sees a Feldwebel in the captured bus station to his right.  The man is waving through an open window, trying to get his attention.  He throws open his hatch and slightly pokes his head up to try and hear the man.  The Feldwebel shouts that Landsers are attacking the two Sherman tanks, running into the smoke screen.  Ruckdeschel had seen the smoke dropping, but in the absence of any instruction, he had remained in his position, covered by the wall of the bus station. 
As the smoke clears fast, the Feldwebel gives Erwin a running blow-by-blow as he describes Witt’s and Hardenberger’s men being cut down by the enemy tanks.  This is too much for Ruckdeschel.
He gives his orders fast.  He has the turret swung to the 2 o’clock position, and he orders his driver to move forward smoothly about 15 meters.  He tells the crew they are going to try and hit the two enemy tanks in the flank, just like von Pannwitz tried earlier, but his crew is going to succeed perfectly.  The men nod quietly and grimly.
“Now!” he orders, and the tank slides smoothly out from cover, gun turret already lined up in the right direction.  A soldier, incapacitated from his wound, lies helplessly in the street as the giant panzer rolls past him, missing him by centimeters.  He can only scream, knowing that no one will hear him over the roar of the panzer engine. 
He stops screaming when he realizes he has not been crushed.  Then new terror fills him.  What if the tank turns?  What if the tank is blown up?  Horrors flood through his mind but he is powerless to do anything.  Mercifully he passes out from blood loss and fear.
Erwin’s gunner has two perfect flank shots, just as predicted by his commander.  The Sherman on the left starts to turn its turret.  That makes the choice for the gunner.
 

The first shot is a hit.  Is it a kill?  No time to judge.  The second Sherman is now trying to turn the turret towards them.  Ruckdeschel lets his gunner turn the turret smoothly to address the 2nd target.
 

The second shot – this is a certain kill.  The second Sherman is torn apart in a massive explosion.  Still no time to breathe or think.  The gunner gently sweeps the turret back to the first Sherman.  They have to be sure.  Moments count.  Seconds tick off.  Erwin is not aware that he has stopped breathing. 
The tank is utter silence, save for the clang of the ejected shell casing on the floor of the tank and the schick of the new round being slammed home into the breech, then the slam of the breech as the shell is rammed into the gun.  The loader cries out that the gun is ready.
Unvented smoke is wafting through the interior and the heavy smell of burnt powder is tickling the back of Ruckdeschel’s throat.
 

The gun roars again, and sparks and flames gush from the 1st target.  It is a kill too!!!  Smoke is already pouring from the burning wreckage of the other Sherman.
“Damn fine job, Comrades, Damn fine job!” shouts Ruckdeschel.  The crewmen smile and bask in their commander’s praise, while still watching the enemy ahead.
 

A figure is seen leaping from the burning tank on the left.  His uniform is blackened and smoking.
 

A second man falls from the Sherman.  Then a third.  All are burned and covered in soot.  They are too far away to see any blood.  Ruckdeschel sees the faces of his men turning towards him, questions on their faces as they wait for orders.
“Let them go,” he says quietly.  “Don’t fire.”  He thinks he sees relief in the faces of his crewmen as they turn back to their stations.  He knows the Canadian tankers have fought with skill and bravery, just men doing a horrible job.  The survivors deserve a chance to escape.
 

With the destruction of the two enemy tanks in their crucial defensive position, the Canadian opposition wanes and they fall back to defensive positions outside of the town.
Oberleutnant’s Gloser’s command squad emerges from the vineyard and joins with Rolf’s MG team.  They are bloody and grim from attending to all the wounded in the vineyard.
Pioniere Harzer, the sole survivor of Hardenberger’s attack in the smoke, finds his squad leader bleeding in a shellhole, wounded as he fled the attack on the enemy tanks.  Harzer still has satchel charges that he didn’t use in the attack, as he faltered at the last minute when they entered the smoke and he found cover to hide.  Hardenberger is bleeding and unconscious.  Harzer shoves the charges under some nearby rubble and attends to dressing his squad leader’s wounds.  No one will know.
Witt and his entire squad are wiped out.  They will never know if they immobilized the one tank in their attack.  The two tanks are destroyed so it wouldn’t matter to anyone but Witt and his survivors if their attack was for nothing.
Witt is badly wounded, as are two others from his squad.  Three are dead and the attending Sanitäter remove identity discs from the fallen while others patch up Witt and move him and the rest of his wounded squad to the rear.
Ruckdeschel knows that the attackers in the smoke played a vital part.  He saw that the two enemy tanks were distracted by the brave Landsers in the smoke.  This was what gave his tank the edge, that and the skill of his crew.  He is so proud of them – the crew can see it in his eyes.    
Rolf Schenk sees a very different skyline of Villa Roggati now.  It is a scene of carnage and destruction.
He shakes his head at the stubborn Canadians.  They fought with skill and honor and they died when overwhelmed.  They have surely given his comrades a bad blooding this day.  He wonders why they didn’t just retreat out of the town.  Why did they stay and die?  Do they owe The Queen and England their lives?
One of his comrades gives the Canadians an off-handed compliment.  “I sure don’t want to come up against these bastards again,” he mutters.  Rolf quietly concurs.

The war goes on.
 
Heinrich505 

CMRT: The Last Bridge
The Last Bridge is a CMRT mini campaign that takes place in the last days of the war during The Battle of Berlin. Hopefully it will give a good depiction of the brutal street fighting in those final days.
It is comprised of 4 missions you must successfully complete to win the campaign. If you lose the first mission you will be branched to an additional mission to have a chance to regain your honor. However the drawback is it will put additional stress on your core units.
It will require certain mods to play which will be listed below.
The campaign should be considered hypothetical even though the units are historical. However a historical timeline is included in the designer notes of the campaign for reference and interest.
It requires the latest version 4 of CMRT.
The campaign mission is to control four bridges over the Spree River and the Industrial Zone.
About the Campaign:
It takes place from April 28th, 1945 until April 30th, 1945 near the Alexanderplatz District of Berlin. The Industrial District lies on a island of sorts where the Spree River divides into separate waterways.
Your mission is to hold the 4 bridges and the Industrial District and complete the objectives of each scenario.
The Details:
To be successful you must preserve as much of your core forces as possible between missions. As in the real battle the Russians have a endless supply of men and material where you have limited resources and reinforcements.
Supply and ammunition will be stressed to the limit but you will get opportunities to be refitted. However, resource management during the first several missions is important. Make every round count.
Map:
The map was created by me and is a heavily modified Berlin map from my previous campaign The Last Panzer using the amazing Stalingrad Mod by Umlaut and NigelP. The entire campaign takes place on this one map.
Mods: For this campaign to look and play as I have designed it you will need the following mods.
All credit goes to the authors of these mods.
The Stalingrad Mod - http://cmmodsiii.greenasjade.net/?p=3776
(Special Note)
I have modified some of this mod to include German slogans and propaganda posters on some of the buildings to give it a Berlin feel.

Umlauts Factory Mod - (Required for the Stalingrad Mod) -  http://cmmodsiii.greenasjade.net/?p=266&
(Read the installation instructions carefully for both of these. I recommend a separate CMRT install for this to work best)
If you already have these two mods (and I expect many will as they are awesome) then you will be good to go.
I have included the rest of the required mods in the campaign download. They are tagged to this campaign only:
1. Aris Vehicle Mods (I have slightly modified these with specific unit insignia or damage features)
 a. Tiger 1 Mod
 b. Panther Mod
 c. StugIII Mod
 d. SDKfz 251D Mod
 e. T-34/85 Mod
 f. ISU-152 Mod
 g. IS-2 Mod
 h. OT-34/76 Mod
 i. Opel Blitz Mod
2. Umlauts King Tiger Henschel Mod
3. Mords Portrait Mods (Also slightly modified with unit insignia)
4. EZ's Uniforms and Faces Mod
5. Various Additional Terrain and Effects Features
6. Russian Telogreika Uniform Mod by Kohleklau
7. Custom Loading Music
These mods will add the immersion that I designed the campaign with.
Core Units: German
30th Panzergrenadier Regiment - 3 x Kompanies, 4 x 120mm Mortars
118th Panzer Reconnassiance Battalion - 1 x Kompanie
Panzer Regiment 118 - 1 x PzMkV, 1 x StugIIIG, 2 x PzMkVI
PanzerAbt Munchberg - 1 x PzMkVIB
18th Pioneer Battalion - 1 x Kompanie
3/115 Siemensstadt Battalion - 2 x Kompanies
Enemy Forces:
450th Rifle Regiment (Part of the 7th Rifle Corps)
42nd Guards Rifle Regiment (Part of the 5th Guards Army)
23rd Tank Brigade
12th Guards Tank Brigade
85th Independant Tank Regiment
205th Guards Rifle Regiment
Campaign Tree:
1. Crucible of Fire (Minor Victory will advance)
   Win - Incursion
   Loss- Für das Vaterland
2. Für das Vaterland (Minor Victory will advance)
   Win - Incursion
   Loss - Campaign Over
3. Incursion (Minor Victory will advance)
   Win - Operation Eiserne Faust
   Loss - Campaign Over
4. Operation Eiserne Faust (Minor Victory will advance)
   Win - Götterdämmerung
   Loss - Campaign Over
5. Götterdämmerung (Minor Victory will advance)
   Win - Campaign Victory
Here is the link to download the campaign folder
https://www.dropbox.com/s/60kuv3ry9tjquv2/The Last Bridge.zip?dl=0
Place the modfolder into your dataz and the .cam file into your campaign directory.
As always let me know of any issues as this is only been lightly tested due to work schedules.
Hope you enjoy the carnage.
Michael
 
 

+1 NICE shot!!!  Beautiful explosion also .  

Dragonwynn,
  Those shots look amazing.  Your work is incredible.
  I'm trying to keep Capt. Stevens alive in the mists of your Field of Tears mini-campaign and now this!!!  Too much goodness...[but don't stop, keep them coming...]
  This is most impressive.  Thanks for all your hard work.  It is very much appreciated.
Heinrich505

With much talk centering on CMFI and the upcoming (hopefully soon) release, I played out a scenario that had some great action.  I thought I would share it.
 

It is December 6, 1943, 2:15 PM local time, and Obersoldat Rolf Schenk peers through his binoculars at Villa Roggati.  His uniform is soaking wet, the cold rain running in rivulets down his neck and back.  It drums off his steel helmet with maddening consistency.  He wipes the smears of rainwater off the end of his binoculars, letting out a sigh of frustration.  Things are quiet now, way too quiet. 
He was in town when the Canadians attacked, and his unit had to retreat.  They took up positions just outside of town, and now he has his MG team set up where they can just barely see the town.  He has been tasked to support the coming counter-attack, but Hauptmann Esch has also given him the job of providing intelligence from his vantage point.  He has not been given a radio, so he will have to break away one of his ammo carriers for this task, leaving him a man down.  He is not pleased.
He quietly waves over one of his ammo carriers, gives him specific details, has the man repeat them, and then sends him to the rear with his observations.  Time is ticking inexorably towards the attack time of 2:30 PM.
 

The attack begins, slowly at first.  Artillery begins to fall on the town at precisely 2:30 PM.  Off to Rolf’s left is a PAK, set up to cover approaches into the town.  Suddenly two Sherman tanks are spotted by the PAK gunners.  The tanks ease out from behind a large white building – they are barely visible.  The PAK gun is pointed straight at their location, but a hail of MG fire from the tanks causes the gun crew to duck for cover.  Then they are slowly picked off by the deadly hail of lead, one at a time, until they are all dead or wounded.  Schenk can hear the wounded moaning in pain, but he dares not move from his position to help.  The tanks have that location zeroed in.
 

Rolf hears the distinctive squeal of tank treads as panzers move up to try and duel with the Canadian tanks.  The Germans didn’t have tanks earlier when they were thrown out of the town by the Canadian attack.  Now they do.  He wonders where HQ managed to scrape them up.  If they’d had them earlier, then they would still be in the damn village.  One of his crew mutters that the tankers will deal with those upstart Canadians.  The panzers roar and 7.5 cm shells launch towards the enemy tanks.
 

The lead tank trundles forward under cover of the following tanks.  Oberstleutnant Fuhrmann is trying to gain a flank shot on the enemy tanks.  He has his driver ease past a small shed, his turret already facing the right direction.  Fuhrmann is confident they will get the first shot off.  As his tank barely clears the shed, Fuhrmann stares in shocked horror down the barrel of one of the enemy tanks.  The tank spouts fire, and the first shell rips into the lower front of his tank.
Smoke instantly fills the interior.  He can hear screaming from the driver and radio man positions.  His gunner is already ripping at the side hatch, self-preservation overtaking any thoughts of return fire. 
Fuhrmann is counting down numbers in his head.  He knows a good tank crew can reload in about 5 seconds.  He yells “Everyone OUT!!!” as he reaches up for the…4…hatch.  The lever swings…3…and he throws his back against the hatch.  The hatch flies…2…open and he is looking up at grey sky that immediately bathes his face with cold rain.  He starts to…1…clamber up into the cold rain and he hears the roar of a tank gun.  He realizes that if he hears the gun, the round is already on the way…his last sight is a boiling roar of red flames…
 

View from the Canadian tank – a catastrophic explosion as the kill shot ignites the enemy tanks ammunition loadout.  There are no survivors.
 

In the space of a mere five minutes, the Canadian tank gunners knock out three German panzers.  This view is from the Canadian held town. 
Funeral pyres of the flaming steel coffins rise into the grey December sky.  Fuhrmann’s tank lies in a crater in the road, caused by the giant explosion.  Schenk sees some badly burned survivors run from the other tanks.  He immediately sends his runner back to Hauptmann Esch to inform him that the initial thrust up the center is being blocked expertly by the Canadians.
 

Hauptmann Esch slams his fist down on the hood of his Kubelwagen.  He didn’t rush the armor in.  He was cautious.  Still, the verdammt Canadians are putting on a show.  His right flank is getting blasted by very accurate artillery fire.  He sends out the orders – Left Flank, GO!
Several remaining panzers veer off to the left flank.  They take a circuitous route, bogging at times, but somehow managing to pull out of the sticky Italian mud.  They arrive in time to support the Landsers who are trying to overwhelm stubborn Canadian resistance.  The cowering ground-pounders find new courage with the arrival of the steel monsters, and they rise up to push through the warehouses on the left flank.
 

Pioniere Unteroffizier Hardenberger leads his squad up the same road as Fuhrmann.  He is confident they can work their way along an embankment, concealing their approach.  As they near the flaming wreck of Fuhrmann’s panzer, 7.5 cm shells and machine gun fire tear into his men.  He screams “VORWÄRTS” and sprints towards the shed that appears to be the only real cover available.  Two more of his men crash through the door and throw themselves on the floor, panting with exertion and adrenaline.  Hardenberger can just see the Sherman tank through a crack in the wall.  How the hell did it see us? he wonders.  “These Canadians are possessed by the Teufel,” he mutters out loud.
 

The unlucky Pioniere caught by the enemy tanks…
Fuhrmann’s tank still burns on the road. 
 

Hauptmann Esch receives reports that the left flank attack has broken through into the town.  He orders his command staff into their Kubelwagen and he heads around the left flank to see the progress.
Hauptmann Erwin Ruckdeschel leads the push into the town from the left flank.  His Mark IV Panzer takes a right turn on the first street and eases slowly towards the town center.  He is careful not to outpace the infantry.  Like all panzer men, he hates fighting in the close confines of any town.  Dead Canadian soldiers lay in the street as a reminder that nothing is safe here.
“Feind Panzer, Eins Uhr!” shouts his gunner.
Ruckdeschel’s eyes immediately snap to the one o’clock position.  His gunner had already pointed the turret in this direction moments before, as the driver slanted the tank at a slight angle to increase their front armor effectiveness.  He sees the barrel drop ever so slightly as his gunner lines up the shot.  He has a very good crew.
Following tanks are covering flanks with HE, and he had his loader keep AP in the breech.  He calls out “115 meters.”  This is knife fighting for panzers.  They are so close.  
Erwin sees the enemy Sherman tank starting to round the corner.  Their turret is already turning in his direction.  He smiles, knowing they will be too late.
“Fire!” he shouts, the roar of the cannon rocking the tank.  Smoke fills the interior and then begins to vent.  “Treffer!” shouts the driver.  Now Erwin can see the explosion.  Flank shot.  It is a kill!
Two more Sherman tanks will try to work around their flaming comrade and will meet the same hideous end, brewing up after taking one or two hits.  Ruckdeschel’s crew is putting on a clinic.
 

A forward MG crew has set up in a blown up gasoline station.  The pumps are still standing but the building is rubble.  They took casualties and one of the crew tries to stem the bleeding of his comrade.
In the distance to the right, another squad of Pioniere are also attending to casualties.  Smoke from the three Shermans brewed up by Ruckdeschel are ahead to the left. 
Ruckdeschel and the crew of a Wespe, commanded by Unteroffizier Thylin, systematically reduce the buildings that are sheltering the two Shermans that blunted the initial attack.  Their handiwork can be seen by the MG team, as a field of rubble that used to be buildings now stretch out before them. 
Stabsfeldwebel von Pannwitz tried to ease his Mark IV Panzer slightly past the bus station to get a flank shot on the enemy tanks.  Again the cursed Canadian tanker somehow was already watching.  Von Pannwitz took a shell in the turret, knocking out his main gun.  Obergefreiter Lorenko is now in command and Ruckdeschel does not know if his friend, von Pannwitz, is dead, dying, or merely wounded.  It tears at him but he keeps his focus on the dangers all around him.
 

There is some confusion now, as the battle grinds to a halt.  The two Canadian tanks at the front of the village are stopping the frontal assault and have now stopped the flank attack too.  They are perfectly placed to interdict any movement towards them from the front or from the side street where Ruckdeschel sits.  And, unfortunately, they are very good at their craft.
Hauptmann Ulrich is given hand signals by Unteroffizier Franz Witt.  They are at the front edge of a vineyard and can see the enemy tanks, maybe 100 meters to their front.  Ulrich sees that Witt wants a smoke screen dropped on the enemy tank position.  If that happens then perhaps the tanks in town can get the drop on them.
Franz has something more daring in mind.  He plans to lead his squad into the smoke for a close assault of the enemy tankers.  The Hauptmann doesn’t get that part of the message.
Ulrich calls in the smoke.  The FO is one of the best, and the smoke rounds start to fall in about 3 minutes.  The smoke is now building all over the enemy tanks.  They will be blind.  The tanks on the flank will now be able to advance and once the smoke dissipates, they will have the drop on the Canadians.
Ulrich sees Witt leap to his feet, and start sprinting towards the wall of smoke.  Witt’s squad instantly rises as one and they pound after their squad leader.
Hardenberger sees the smoke and immediately has the same idea as Witt, even though he has no idea what Witt is planning.  One of Hardenberger’s survivors has at least one satchel charge and they can use that on the blind tanks.  He roars to his two men to charge the tanks.  They leap to their feet and begin the crazy charge towards the wall of smoke and probably certain death.
 

Rolf Schenk and his men see the smoke dropping.  There is a silent Mark IV right next to their position, yet another panzer vexed by the skill of the Canadian tankers and knocked out with a single shot.  All the crew got out of this one though.  In front of the berm protecting his men are two dead soldiers from an earlier attempt to sneak through the vineyard.
They have no idea what is being planned, until Rolf sees Unteroffizier Hardenberger and his two men, greatcoats dark against the backdrop of white smoke, pounding across the wet field from the left, heading right for the smoke.  He catches his breath at the daring attack, and one of his men shouts “Sind Sie verrück?”  This echoes his own thoughts – they must, indeed, be crazy. 
They don’t see Witt and his men off to the right, as the smoke has already obscured their equally mad charge.
 

It is chaos and madness in the smoke.  Hardenberger can barely hear anything from the loud pounding of his blood through his head.  Machine gun fire rips the smoke, as the Canadians fire blindly.  He barely hears the screams of one of his men, and he finds himself running just under the barrel of the enemy Sherman.  He has no idea that Witt’s men are also rushing into the smoke.  Witt himself is crawling towards the misty bulk of the enemy steel monster that lashes out at the host of tormentors that mean to do it harm.
Hardenberger rues the fact that he didn’t take the satchel charge himself, as he is now in the perfect spot to attach it to the enemy tank.  But all he can do is run in the smoke, hoping the enemy tankers focus on him and don’t see his men trying to assault it with the satchel charge.  He now seeks some sort of cover as the tank flails the smoke with its machine guns.
 

Franz Witt’s men are among the two enemy tanks.  There is some slight cover from the rubble of a building and some craters from artillery fire.  The smoke is dissipating way too fast – the rain is settling it too quickly.  Dammit, Witt thinks, they only have seconds to live now.
Witt takes cover in a crater and hurls his grenade.  The man to his left – Max, he thinks but can’t be sure – is about to shove a grenade into the front tracks of the tank.  Karl, off to his right, is about to hurl yet another grenade.  All he can do is hold his breath now.  It occurs to him that maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.
 

Witt’s grenade goes off, a cascade of sparks and smoke lighting up the side of the tank.  Two more grenades are heading for the enemy monster.  It is time for them to get the hell out of this deathtrap.  He screams to his men to run.  The enemy tanks open up with their machine guns.  He hears some of his men scream as they are hit.  Everyone runs like frightened rabbits in every direction to confuse the enemy gunners.
 

Erwin Ruckdeschel sees a Feldwebel in the captured bus station to his right.  The man is waving through an open window, trying to get his attention.  He throws open his hatch and slightly pokes his head up to try and hear the man.  The Feldwebel shouts that Landsers are attacking the two Sherman tanks, running into the smoke screen.  Ruckdeschel had seen the smoke dropping, but in the absence of any instruction, he had remained in his position, covered by the wall of the bus station. 
As the smoke clears fast, the Feldwebel gives Erwin a running blow-by-blow as he describes Witt’s and Hardenberger’s men being cut down by the enemy tanks.  This is too much for Ruckdeschel.
He gives his orders fast.  He has the turret swung to the 2 o’clock position, and he orders his driver to move forward smoothly about 15 meters.  He tells the crew they are going to try and hit the two enemy tanks in the flank, just like von Pannwitz tried earlier, but his crew is going to succeed perfectly.  The men nod quietly and grimly.
“Now!” he orders, and the tank slides smoothly out from cover, gun turret already lined up in the right direction.  A soldier, incapacitated from his wound, lies helplessly in the street as the giant panzer rolls past him, missing him by centimeters.  He can only scream, knowing that no one will hear him over the roar of the panzer engine. 
He stops screaming when he realizes he has not been crushed.  Then new terror fills him.  What if the tank turns?  What if the tank is blown up?  Horrors flood through his mind but he is powerless to do anything.  Mercifully he passes out from blood loss and fear.
Erwin’s gunner has two perfect flank shots, just as predicted by his commander.  The Sherman on the left starts to turn its turret.  That makes the choice for the gunner.
 

The first shot is a hit.  Is it a kill?  No time to judge.  The second Sherman is now trying to turn the turret towards them.  Ruckdeschel lets his gunner turn the turret smoothly to address the 2nd target.
 

The second shot – this is a certain kill.  The second Sherman is torn apart in a massive explosion.  Still no time to breathe or think.  The gunner gently sweeps the turret back to the first Sherman.  They have to be sure.  Moments count.  Seconds tick off.  Erwin is not aware that he has stopped breathing. 
The tank is utter silence, save for the clang of the ejected shell casing on the floor of the tank and the schick of the new round being slammed home into the breech, then the slam of the breech as the shell is rammed into the gun.  The loader cries out that the gun is ready.
Unvented smoke is wafting through the interior and the heavy smell of burnt powder is tickling the back of Ruckdeschel’s throat.
 

The gun roars again, and sparks and flames gush from the 1st target.  It is a kill too!!!  Smoke is already pouring from the burning wreckage of the other Sherman.
“Damn fine job, Comrades, Damn fine job!” shouts Ruckdeschel.  The crewmen smile and bask in their commander’s praise, while still watching the enemy ahead.
 

A figure is seen leaping from the burning tank on the left.  His uniform is blackened and smoking.
 

A second man falls from the Sherman.  Then a third.  All are burned and covered in soot.  They are too far away to see any blood.  Ruckdeschel sees the faces of his men turning towards him, questions on their faces as they wait for orders.
“Let them go,” he says quietly.  “Don’t fire.”  He thinks he sees relief in the faces of his crewmen as they turn back to their stations.  He knows the Canadian tankers have fought with skill and bravery, just men doing a horrible job.  The survivors deserve a chance to escape.
 

With the destruction of the two enemy tanks in their crucial defensive position, the Canadian opposition wanes and they fall back to defensive positions outside of the town.
Oberleutnant’s Gloser’s command squad emerges from the vineyard and joins with Rolf’s MG team.  They are bloody and grim from attending to all the wounded in the vineyard.
Pioniere Harzer, the sole survivor of Hardenberger’s attack in the smoke, finds his squad leader bleeding in a shellhole, wounded as he fled the attack on the enemy tanks.  Harzer still has satchel charges that he didn’t use in the attack, as he faltered at the last minute when they entered the smoke and he found cover to hide.  Hardenberger is bleeding and unconscious.  Harzer shoves the charges under some nearby rubble and attends to dressing his squad leader’s wounds.  No one will know.
Witt and his entire squad are wiped out.  They will never know if they immobilized the one tank in their attack.  The two tanks are destroyed so it wouldn’t matter to anyone but Witt and his survivors if their attack was for nothing.
Witt is badly wounded, as are two others from his squad.  Three are dead and the attending Sanitäter remove identity discs from the fallen while others patch up Witt and move him and the rest of his wounded squad to the rear.
Ruckdeschel knows that the attackers in the smoke played a vital part.  He saw that the two enemy tanks were distracted by the brave Landsers in the smoke.  This was what gave his tank the edge, that and the skill of his crew.  He is so proud of them – the crew can see it in his eyes.    
Rolf Schenk sees a very different skyline of Villa Roggati now.  It is a scene of carnage and destruction.
He shakes his head at the stubborn Canadians.  They fought with skill and honor and they died when overwhelmed.  They have surely given his comrades a bad blooding this day.  He wonders why they didn’t just retreat out of the town.  Why did they stay and die?  Do they owe The Queen and England their lives?
One of his comrades gives the Canadians an off-handed compliment.  “I sure don’t want to come up against these bastards again,” he mutters.  Rolf quietly concurs.

The war goes on.
 
Heinrich505 

Wow! 
That looks impressive. 

Here is a link to some screenshots of my upcoming mini campaign The Last Bridge depicting  urban fighting in Berlin near the Spree River in the last days of the Battle of Berlin. Hopefully it will be finished up soon and for those who like brutal city fighting this one is for you. The screenies are depicted in my usual artistic flair.
https://imgur.com/a/xVrfI
Hope you will enjoy.
Michael

With much talk centering on CMFI and the upcoming (hopefully soon) release, I played out a scenario that had some great action.  I thought I would share it.
 

It is December 6, 1943, 2:15 PM local time, and Obersoldat Rolf Schenk peers through his binoculars at Villa Roggati.  His uniform is soaking wet, the cold rain running in rivulets down his neck and back.  It drums off his steel helmet with maddening consistency.  He wipes the smears of rainwater off the end of his binoculars, letting out a sigh of frustration.  Things are quiet now, way too quiet. 
He was in town when the Canadians attacked, and his unit had to retreat.  They took up positions just outside of town, and now he has his MG team set up where they can just barely see the town.  He has been tasked to support the coming counter-attack, but Hauptmann Esch has also given him the job of providing intelligence from his vantage point.  He has not been given a radio, so he will have to break away one of his ammo carriers for this task, leaving him a man down.  He is not pleased.
He quietly waves over one of his ammo carriers, gives him specific details, has the man repeat them, and then sends him to the rear with his observations.  Time is ticking inexorably towards the attack time of 2:30 PM.
 

The attack begins, slowly at first.  Artillery begins to fall on the town at precisely 2:30 PM.  Off to Rolf’s left is a PAK, set up to cover approaches into the town.  Suddenly two Sherman tanks are spotted by the PAK gunners.  The tanks ease out from behind a large white building – they are barely visible.  The PAK gun is pointed straight at their location, but a hail of MG fire from the tanks causes the gun crew to duck for cover.  Then they are slowly picked off by the deadly hail of lead, one at a time, until they are all dead or wounded.  Schenk can hear the wounded moaning in pain, but he dares not move from his position to help.  The tanks have that location zeroed in.
 

Rolf hears the distinctive squeal of tank treads as panzers move up to try and duel with the Canadian tanks.  The Germans didn’t have tanks earlier when they were thrown out of the town by the Canadian attack.  Now they do.  He wonders where HQ managed to scrape them up.  If they’d had them earlier, then they would still be in the damn village.  One of his crew mutters that the tankers will deal with those upstart Canadians.  The panzers roar and 7.5 cm shells launch towards the enemy tanks.
 

The lead tank trundles forward under cover of the following tanks.  Oberstleutnant Fuhrmann is trying to gain a flank shot on the enemy tanks.  He has his driver ease past a small shed, his turret already facing the right direction.  Fuhrmann is confident they will get the first shot off.  As his tank barely clears the shed, Fuhrmann stares in shocked horror down the barrel of one of the enemy tanks.  The tank spouts fire, and the first shell rips into the lower front of his tank.
Smoke instantly fills the interior.  He can hear screaming from the driver and radio man positions.  His gunner is already ripping at the side hatch, self-preservation overtaking any thoughts of return fire. 
Fuhrmann is counting down numbers in his head.  He knows a good tank crew can reload in about 5 seconds.  He yells “Everyone OUT!!!” as he reaches up for the…4…hatch.  The lever swings…3…and he throws his back against the hatch.  The hatch flies…2…open and he is looking up at grey sky that immediately bathes his face with cold rain.  He starts to…1…clamber up into the cold rain and he hears the roar of a tank gun.  He realizes that if he hears the gun, the round is already on the way…his last sight is a boiling roar of red flames…
 

View from the Canadian tank – a catastrophic explosion as the kill shot ignites the enemy tanks ammunition loadout.  There are no survivors.
 

In the space of a mere five minutes, the Canadian tank gunners knock out three German panzers.  This view is from the Canadian held town. 
Funeral pyres of the flaming steel coffins rise into the grey December sky.  Fuhrmann’s tank lies in a crater in the road, caused by the giant explosion.  Schenk sees some badly burned survivors run from the other tanks.  He immediately sends his runner back to Hauptmann Esch to inform him that the initial thrust up the center is being blocked expertly by the Canadians.
 

Hauptmann Esch slams his fist down on the hood of his Kubelwagen.  He didn’t rush the armor in.  He was cautious.  Still, the verdammt Canadians are putting on a show.  His right flank is getting blasted by very accurate artillery fire.  He sends out the orders – Left Flank, GO!
Several remaining panzers veer off to the left flank.  They take a circuitous route, bogging at times, but somehow managing to pull out of the sticky Italian mud.  They arrive in time to support the Landsers who are trying to overwhelm stubborn Canadian resistance.  The cowering ground-pounders find new courage with the arrival of the steel monsters, and they rise up to push through the warehouses on the left flank.
 

Pioniere Unteroffizier Hardenberger leads his squad up the same road as Fuhrmann.  He is confident they can work their way along an embankment, concealing their approach.  As they near the flaming wreck of Fuhrmann’s panzer, 7.5 cm shells and machine gun fire tear into his men.  He screams “VORWÄRTS” and sprints towards the shed that appears to be the only real cover available.  Two more of his men crash through the door and throw themselves on the floor, panting with exertion and adrenaline.  Hardenberger can just see the Sherman tank through a crack in the wall.  How the hell did it see us? he wonders.  “These Canadians are possessed by the Teufel,” he mutters out loud.
 

The unlucky Pioniere caught by the enemy tanks…
Fuhrmann’s tank still burns on the road. 
 

Hauptmann Esch receives reports that the left flank attack has broken through into the town.  He orders his command staff into their Kubelwagen and he heads around the left flank to see the progress.
Hauptmann Erwin Ruckdeschel leads the push into the town from the left flank.  His Mark IV Panzer takes a right turn on the first street and eases slowly towards the town center.  He is careful not to outpace the infantry.  Like all panzer men, he hates fighting in the close confines of any town.  Dead Canadian soldiers lay in the street as a reminder that nothing is safe here.
“Feind Panzer, Eins Uhr!” shouts his gunner.
Ruckdeschel’s eyes immediately snap to the one o’clock position.  His gunner had already pointed the turret in this direction moments before, as the driver slanted the tank at a slight angle to increase their front armor effectiveness.  He sees the barrel drop ever so slightly as his gunner lines up the shot.  He has a very good crew.
Following tanks are covering flanks with HE, and he had his loader keep AP in the breech.  He calls out “115 meters.”  This is knife fighting for panzers.  They are so close.  
Erwin sees the enemy Sherman tank starting to round the corner.  Their turret is already turning in his direction.  He smiles, knowing they will be too late.
“Fire!” he shouts, the roar of the cannon rocking the tank.  Smoke fills the interior and then begins to vent.  “Treffer!” shouts the driver.  Now Erwin can see the explosion.  Flank shot.  It is a kill!
Two more Sherman tanks will try to work around their flaming comrade and will meet the same hideous end, brewing up after taking one or two hits.  Ruckdeschel’s crew is putting on a clinic.
 

A forward MG crew has set up in a blown up gasoline station.  The pumps are still standing but the building is rubble.  They took casualties and one of the crew tries to stem the bleeding of his comrade.
In the distance to the right, another squad of Pioniere are also attending to casualties.  Smoke from the three Shermans brewed up by Ruckdeschel are ahead to the left. 
Ruckdeschel and the crew of a Wespe, commanded by Unteroffizier Thylin, systematically reduce the buildings that are sheltering the two Shermans that blunted the initial attack.  Their handiwork can be seen by the MG team, as a field of rubble that used to be buildings now stretch out before them. 
Stabsfeldwebel von Pannwitz tried to ease his Mark IV Panzer slightly past the bus station to get a flank shot on the enemy tanks.  Again the cursed Canadian tanker somehow was already watching.  Von Pannwitz took a shell in the turret, knocking out his main gun.  Obergefreiter Lorenko is now in command and Ruckdeschel does not know if his friend, von Pannwitz, is dead, dying, or merely wounded.  It tears at him but he keeps his focus on the dangers all around him.
 

There is some confusion now, as the battle grinds to a halt.  The two Canadian tanks at the front of the village are stopping the frontal assault and have now stopped the flank attack too.  They are perfectly placed to interdict any movement towards them from the front or from the side street where Ruckdeschel sits.  And, unfortunately, they are very good at their craft.
Hauptmann Ulrich is given hand signals by Unteroffizier Franz Witt.  They are at the front edge of a vineyard and can see the enemy tanks, maybe 100 meters to their front.  Ulrich sees that Witt wants a smoke screen dropped on the enemy tank position.  If that happens then perhaps the tanks in town can get the drop on them.
Franz has something more daring in mind.  He plans to lead his squad into the smoke for a close assault of the enemy tankers.  The Hauptmann doesn’t get that part of the message.
Ulrich calls in the smoke.  The FO is one of the best, and the smoke rounds start to fall in about 3 minutes.  The smoke is now building all over the enemy tanks.  They will be blind.  The tanks on the flank will now be able to advance and once the smoke dissipates, they will have the drop on the Canadians.
Ulrich sees Witt leap to his feet, and start sprinting towards the wall of smoke.  Witt’s squad instantly rises as one and they pound after their squad leader.
Hardenberger sees the smoke and immediately has the same idea as Witt, even though he has no idea what Witt is planning.  One of Hardenberger’s survivors has at least one satchel charge and they can use that on the blind tanks.  He roars to his two men to charge the tanks.  They leap to their feet and begin the crazy charge towards the wall of smoke and probably certain death.
 

Rolf Schenk and his men see the smoke dropping.  There is a silent Mark IV right next to their position, yet another panzer vexed by the skill of the Canadian tankers and knocked out with a single shot.  All the crew got out of this one though.  In front of the berm protecting his men are two dead soldiers from an earlier attempt to sneak through the vineyard.
They have no idea what is being planned, until Rolf sees Unteroffizier Hardenberger and his two men, greatcoats dark against the backdrop of white smoke, pounding across the wet field from the left, heading right for the smoke.  He catches his breath at the daring attack, and one of his men shouts “Sind Sie verrück?”  This echoes his own thoughts – they must, indeed, be crazy. 
They don’t see Witt and his men off to the right, as the smoke has already obscured their equally mad charge.
 

It is chaos and madness in the smoke.  Hardenberger can barely hear anything from the loud pounding of his blood through his head.  Machine gun fire rips the smoke, as the Canadians fire blindly.  He barely hears the screams of one of his men, and he finds himself running just under the barrel of the enemy Sherman.  He has no idea that Witt’s men are also rushing into the smoke.  Witt himself is crawling towards the misty bulk of the enemy steel monster that lashes out at the host of tormentors that mean to do it harm.
Hardenberger rues the fact that he didn’t take the satchel charge himself, as he is now in the perfect spot to attach it to the enemy tank.  But all he can do is run in the smoke, hoping the enemy tankers focus on him and don’t see his men trying to assault it with the satchel charge.  He now seeks some sort of cover as the tank flails the smoke with its machine guns.
 

Franz Witt’s men are among the two enemy tanks.  There is some slight cover from the rubble of a building and some craters from artillery fire.  The smoke is dissipating way too fast – the rain is settling it too quickly.  Dammit, Witt thinks, they only have seconds to live now.
Witt takes cover in a crater and hurls his grenade.  The man to his left – Max, he thinks but can’t be sure – is about to shove a grenade into the front tracks of the tank.  Karl, off to his right, is about to hurl yet another grenade.  All he can do is hold his breath now.  It occurs to him that maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.
 

Witt’s grenade goes off, a cascade of sparks and smoke lighting up the side of the tank.  Two more grenades are heading for the enemy monster.  It is time for them to get the hell out of this deathtrap.  He screams to his men to run.  The enemy tanks open up with their machine guns.  He hears some of his men scream as they are hit.  Everyone runs like frightened rabbits in every direction to confuse the enemy gunners.
 

Erwin Ruckdeschel sees a Feldwebel in the captured bus station to his right.  The man is waving through an open window, trying to get his attention.  He throws open his hatch and slightly pokes his head up to try and hear the man.  The Feldwebel shouts that Landsers are attacking the two Sherman tanks, running into the smoke screen.  Ruckdeschel had seen the smoke dropping, but in the absence of any instruction, he had remained in his position, covered by the wall of the bus station. 
As the smoke clears fast, the Feldwebel gives Erwin a running blow-by-blow as he describes Witt’s and Hardenberger’s men being cut down by the enemy tanks.  This is too much for Ruckdeschel.
He gives his orders fast.  He has the turret swung to the 2 o’clock position, and he orders his driver to move forward smoothly about 15 meters.  He tells the crew they are going to try and hit the two enemy tanks in the flank, just like von Pannwitz tried earlier, but his crew is going to succeed perfectly.  The men nod quietly and grimly.
“Now!” he orders, and the tank slides smoothly out from cover, gun turret already lined up in the right direction.  A soldier, incapacitated from his wound, lies helplessly in the street as the giant panzer rolls past him, missing him by centimeters.  He can only scream, knowing that no one will hear him over the roar of the panzer engine. 
He stops screaming when he realizes he has not been crushed.  Then new terror fills him.  What if the tank turns?  What if the tank is blown up?  Horrors flood through his mind but he is powerless to do anything.  Mercifully he passes out from blood loss and fear.
Erwin’s gunner has two perfect flank shots, just as predicted by his commander.  The Sherman on the left starts to turn its turret.  That makes the choice for the gunner.
 

The first shot is a hit.  Is it a kill?  No time to judge.  The second Sherman is now trying to turn the turret towards them.  Ruckdeschel lets his gunner turn the turret smoothly to address the 2nd target.
 

The second shot – this is a certain kill.  The second Sherman is torn apart in a massive explosion.  Still no time to breathe or think.  The gunner gently sweeps the turret back to the first Sherman.  They have to be sure.  Moments count.  Seconds tick off.  Erwin is not aware that he has stopped breathing. 
The tank is utter silence, save for the clang of the ejected shell casing on the floor of the tank and the schick of the new round being slammed home into the breech, then the slam of the breech as the shell is rammed into the gun.  The loader cries out that the gun is ready.
Unvented smoke is wafting through the interior and the heavy smell of burnt powder is tickling the back of Ruckdeschel’s throat.
 

The gun roars again, and sparks and flames gush from the 1st target.  It is a kill too!!!  Smoke is already pouring from the burning wreckage of the other Sherman.
“Damn fine job, Comrades, Damn fine job!” shouts Ruckdeschel.  The crewmen smile and bask in their commander’s praise, while still watching the enemy ahead.
 

A figure is seen leaping from the burning tank on the left.  His uniform is blackened and smoking.
 

A second man falls from the Sherman.  Then a third.  All are burned and covered in soot.  They are too far away to see any blood.  Ruckdeschel sees the faces of his men turning towards him, questions on their faces as they wait for orders.
“Let them go,” he says quietly.  “Don’t fire.”  He thinks he sees relief in the faces of his crewmen as they turn back to their stations.  He knows the Canadian tankers have fought with skill and bravery, just men doing a horrible job.  The survivors deserve a chance to escape.
 

With the destruction of the two enemy tanks in their crucial defensive position, the Canadian opposition wanes and they fall back to defensive positions outside of the town.
Oberleutnant’s Gloser’s command squad emerges from the vineyard and joins with Rolf’s MG team.  They are bloody and grim from attending to all the wounded in the vineyard.
Pioniere Harzer, the sole survivor of Hardenberger’s attack in the smoke, finds his squad leader bleeding in a shellhole, wounded as he fled the attack on the enemy tanks.  Harzer still has satchel charges that he didn’t use in the attack, as he faltered at the last minute when they entered the smoke and he found cover to hide.  Hardenberger is bleeding and unconscious.  Harzer shoves the charges under some nearby rubble and attends to dressing his squad leader’s wounds.  No one will know.
Witt and his entire squad are wiped out.  They will never know if they immobilized the one tank in their attack.  The two tanks are destroyed so it wouldn’t matter to anyone but Witt and his survivors if their attack was for nothing.
Witt is badly wounded, as are two others from his squad.  Three are dead and the attending Sanitäter remove identity discs from the fallen while others patch up Witt and move him and the rest of his wounded squad to the rear.
Ruckdeschel knows that the attackers in the smoke played a vital part.  He saw that the two enemy tanks were distracted by the brave Landsers in the smoke.  This was what gave his tank the edge, that and the skill of his crew.  He is so proud of them – the crew can see it in his eyes.    
Rolf Schenk sees a very different skyline of Villa Roggati now.  It is a scene of carnage and destruction.
He shakes his head at the stubborn Canadians.  They fought with skill and honor and they died when overwhelmed.  They have surely given his comrades a bad blooding this day.  He wonders why they didn’t just retreat out of the town.  Why did they stay and die?  Do they owe The Queen and England their lives?
One of his comrades gives the Canadians an off-handed compliment.  “I sure don’t want to come up against these bastards again,” he mutters.  Rolf quietly concurs.

The war goes on.
 
Heinrich505 

Hello names Hector. i live in Puerto Rico and you may know what hurricane Maria did to our beautiful island. We have no power only 3 hours a day, and as a CM fan had really missed playing. I had a little problem with the game installation  since they were downloaded (i had the cds also) and tried to contact battlefront but was hard with no internet so I managed to get on for a bit and found a phone number and called Steve whom I really dont know who he is but he answered. I want to say Thanks for the conversation we had. He offered to help and eventhough I got everything working offline after, it was refreshing to hear he was available to help. I really appreciate his gesture and will continue to support Battlefront knowing that behind this company are great and caring people. Again Thanks Steve .
Hector 

With much talk centering on CMFI and the upcoming (hopefully soon) release, I played out a scenario that had some great action.  I thought I would share it.
 

It is December 6, 1943, 2:15 PM local time, and Obersoldat Rolf Schenk peers through his binoculars at Villa Roggati.  His uniform is soaking wet, the cold rain running in rivulets down his neck and back.  It drums off his steel helmet with maddening consistency.  He wipes the smears of rainwater off the end of his binoculars, letting out a sigh of frustration.  Things are quiet now, way too quiet. 
He was in town when the Canadians attacked, and his unit had to retreat.  They took up positions just outside of town, and now he has his MG team set up where they can just barely see the town.  He has been tasked to support the coming counter-attack, but Hauptmann Esch has also given him the job of providing intelligence from his vantage point.  He has not been given a radio, so he will have to break away one of his ammo carriers for this task, leaving him a man down.  He is not pleased.
He quietly waves over one of his ammo carriers, gives him specific details, has the man repeat them, and then sends him to the rear with his observations.  Time is ticking inexorably towards the attack time of 2:30 PM.
 

The attack begins, slowly at first.  Artillery begins to fall on the town at precisely 2:30 PM.  Off to Rolf’s left is a PAK, set up to cover approaches into the town.  Suddenly two Sherman tanks are spotted by the PAK gunners.  The tanks ease out from behind a large white building – they are barely visible.  The PAK gun is pointed straight at their location, but a hail of MG fire from the tanks causes the gun crew to duck for cover.  Then they are slowly picked off by the deadly hail of lead, one at a time, until they are all dead or wounded.  Schenk can hear the wounded moaning in pain, but he dares not move from his position to help.  The tanks have that location zeroed in.
 

Rolf hears the distinctive squeal of tank treads as panzers move up to try and duel with the Canadian tanks.  The Germans didn’t have tanks earlier when they were thrown out of the town by the Canadian attack.  Now they do.  He wonders where HQ managed to scrape them up.  If they’d had them earlier, then they would still be in the damn village.  One of his crew mutters that the tankers will deal with those upstart Canadians.  The panzers roar and 7.5 cm shells launch towards the enemy tanks.
 

The lead tank trundles forward under cover of the following tanks.  Oberstleutnant Fuhrmann is trying to gain a flank shot on the enemy tanks.  He has his driver ease past a small shed, his turret already facing the right direction.  Fuhrmann is confident they will get the first shot off.  As his tank barely clears the shed, Fuhrmann stares in shocked horror down the barrel of one of the enemy tanks.  The tank spouts fire, and the first shell rips into the lower front of his tank.
Smoke instantly fills the interior.  He can hear screaming from the driver and radio man positions.  His gunner is already ripping at the side hatch, self-preservation overtaking any thoughts of return fire. 
Fuhrmann is counting down numbers in his head.  He knows a good tank crew can reload in about 5 seconds.  He yells “Everyone OUT!!!” as he reaches up for the…4…hatch.  The lever swings…3…and he throws his back against the hatch.  The hatch flies…2…open and he is looking up at grey sky that immediately bathes his face with cold rain.  He starts to…1…clamber up into the cold rain and he hears the roar of a tank gun.  He realizes that if he hears the gun, the round is already on the way…his last sight is a boiling roar of red flames…
 

View from the Canadian tank – a catastrophic explosion as the kill shot ignites the enemy tanks ammunition loadout.  There are no survivors.
 

In the space of a mere five minutes, the Canadian tank gunners knock out three German panzers.  This view is from the Canadian held town. 
Funeral pyres of the flaming steel coffins rise into the grey December sky.  Fuhrmann’s tank lies in a crater in the road, caused by the giant explosion.  Schenk sees some badly burned survivors run from the other tanks.  He immediately sends his runner back to Hauptmann Esch to inform him that the initial thrust up the center is being blocked expertly by the Canadians.
 

Hauptmann Esch slams his fist down on the hood of his Kubelwagen.  He didn’t rush the armor in.  He was cautious.  Still, the verdammt Canadians are putting on a show.  His right flank is getting blasted by very accurate artillery fire.  He sends out the orders – Left Flank, GO!
Several remaining panzers veer off to the left flank.  They take a circuitous route, bogging at times, but somehow managing to pull out of the sticky Italian mud.  They arrive in time to support the Landsers who are trying to overwhelm stubborn Canadian resistance.  The cowering ground-pounders find new courage with the arrival of the steel monsters, and they rise up to push through the warehouses on the left flank.
 

Pioniere Unteroffizier Hardenberger leads his squad up the same road as Fuhrmann.  He is confident they can work their way along an embankment, concealing their approach.  As they near the flaming wreck of Fuhrmann’s panzer, 7.5 cm shells and machine gun fire tear into his men.  He screams “VORWÄRTS” and sprints towards the shed that appears to be the only real cover available.  Two more of his men crash through the door and throw themselves on the floor, panting with exertion and adrenaline.  Hardenberger can just see the Sherman tank through a crack in the wall.  How the hell did it see us? he wonders.  “These Canadians are possessed by the Teufel,” he mutters out loud.
 

The unlucky Pioniere caught by the enemy tanks…
Fuhrmann’s tank still burns on the road. 
 

Hauptmann Esch receives reports that the left flank attack has broken through into the town.  He orders his command staff into their Kubelwagen and he heads around the left flank to see the progress.
Hauptmann Erwin Ruckdeschel leads the push into the town from the left flank.  His Mark IV Panzer takes a right turn on the first street and eases slowly towards the town center.  He is careful not to outpace the infantry.  Like all panzer men, he hates fighting in the close confines of any town.  Dead Canadian soldiers lay in the street as a reminder that nothing is safe here.
“Feind Panzer, Eins Uhr!” shouts his gunner.
Ruckdeschel’s eyes immediately snap to the one o’clock position.  His gunner had already pointed the turret in this direction moments before, as the driver slanted the tank at a slight angle to increase their front armor effectiveness.  He sees the barrel drop ever so slightly as his gunner lines up the shot.  He has a very good crew.
Following tanks are covering flanks with HE, and he had his loader keep AP in the breech.  He calls out “115 meters.”  This is knife fighting for panzers.  They are so close.  
Erwin sees the enemy Sherman tank starting to round the corner.  Their turret is already turning in his direction.  He smiles, knowing they will be too late.
“Fire!” he shouts, the roar of the cannon rocking the tank.  Smoke fills the interior and then begins to vent.  “Treffer!” shouts the driver.  Now Erwin can see the explosion.  Flank shot.  It is a kill!
Two more Sherman tanks will try to work around their flaming comrade and will meet the same hideous end, brewing up after taking one or two hits.  Ruckdeschel’s crew is putting on a clinic.
 

A forward MG crew has set up in a blown up gasoline station.  The pumps are still standing but the building is rubble.  They took casualties and one of the crew tries to stem the bleeding of his comrade.
In the distance to the right, another squad of Pioniere are also attending to casualties.  Smoke from the three Shermans brewed up by Ruckdeschel are ahead to the left. 
Ruckdeschel and the crew of a Wespe, commanded by Unteroffizier Thylin, systematically reduce the buildings that are sheltering the two Shermans that blunted the initial attack.  Their handiwork can be seen by the MG team, as a field of rubble that used to be buildings now stretch out before them. 
Stabsfeldwebel von Pannwitz tried to ease his Mark IV Panzer slightly past the bus station to get a flank shot on the enemy tanks.  Again the cursed Canadian tanker somehow was already watching.  Von Pannwitz took a shell in the turret, knocking out his main gun.  Obergefreiter Lorenko is now in command and Ruckdeschel does not know if his friend, von Pannwitz, is dead, dying, or merely wounded.  It tears at him but he keeps his focus on the dangers all around him.
 

There is some confusion now, as the battle grinds to a halt.  The two Canadian tanks at the front of the village are stopping the frontal assault and have now stopped the flank attack too.  They are perfectly placed to interdict any movement towards them from the front or from the side street where Ruckdeschel sits.  And, unfortunately, they are very good at their craft.
Hauptmann Ulrich is given hand signals by Unteroffizier Franz Witt.  They are at the front edge of a vineyard and can see the enemy tanks, maybe 100 meters to their front.  Ulrich sees that Witt wants a smoke screen dropped on the enemy tank position.  If that happens then perhaps the tanks in town can get the drop on them.
Franz has something more daring in mind.  He plans to lead his squad into the smoke for a close assault of the enemy tankers.  The Hauptmann doesn’t get that part of the message.
Ulrich calls in the smoke.  The FO is one of the best, and the smoke rounds start to fall in about 3 minutes.  The smoke is now building all over the enemy tanks.  They will be blind.  The tanks on the flank will now be able to advance and once the smoke dissipates, they will have the drop on the Canadians.
Ulrich sees Witt leap to his feet, and start sprinting towards the wall of smoke.  Witt’s squad instantly rises as one and they pound after their squad leader.
Hardenberger sees the smoke and immediately has the same idea as Witt, even though he has no idea what Witt is planning.  One of Hardenberger’s survivors has at least one satchel charge and they can use that on the blind tanks.  He roars to his two men to charge the tanks.  They leap to their feet and begin the crazy charge towards the wall of smoke and probably certain death.
 

Rolf Schenk and his men see the smoke dropping.  There is a silent Mark IV right next to their position, yet another panzer vexed by the skill of the Canadian tankers and knocked out with a single shot.  All the crew got out of this one though.  In front of the berm protecting his men are two dead soldiers from an earlier attempt to sneak through the vineyard.
They have no idea what is being planned, until Rolf sees Unteroffizier Hardenberger and his two men, greatcoats dark against the backdrop of white smoke, pounding across the wet field from the left, heading right for the smoke.  He catches his breath at the daring attack, and one of his men shouts “Sind Sie verrück?”  This echoes his own thoughts – they must, indeed, be crazy. 
They don’t see Witt and his men off to the right, as the smoke has already obscured their equally mad charge.
 

It is chaos and madness in the smoke.  Hardenberger can barely hear anything from the loud pounding of his blood through his head.  Machine gun fire rips the smoke, as the Canadians fire blindly.  He barely hears the screams of one of his men, and he finds himself running just under the barrel of the enemy Sherman.  He has no idea that Witt’s men are also rushing into the smoke.  Witt himself is crawling towards the misty bulk of the enemy steel monster that lashes out at the host of tormentors that mean to do it harm.
Hardenberger rues the fact that he didn’t take the satchel charge himself, as he is now in the perfect spot to attach it to the enemy tank.  But all he can do is run in the smoke, hoping the enemy tankers focus on him and don’t see his men trying to assault it with the satchel charge.  He now seeks some sort of cover as the tank flails the smoke with its machine guns.
 

Franz Witt’s men are among the two enemy tanks.  There is some slight cover from the rubble of a building and some craters from artillery fire.  The smoke is dissipating way too fast – the rain is settling it too quickly.  Dammit, Witt thinks, they only have seconds to live now.
Witt takes cover in a crater and hurls his grenade.  The man to his left – Max, he thinks but can’t be sure – is about to shove a grenade into the front tracks of the tank.  Karl, off to his right, is about to hurl yet another grenade.  All he can do is hold his breath now.  It occurs to him that maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.
 

Witt’s grenade goes off, a cascade of sparks and smoke lighting up the side of the tank.  Two more grenades are heading for the enemy monster.  It is time for them to get the hell out of this deathtrap.  He screams to his men to run.  The enemy tanks open up with their machine guns.  He hears some of his men scream as they are hit.  Everyone runs like frightened rabbits in every direction to confuse the enemy gunners.
 

Erwin Ruckdeschel sees a Feldwebel in the captured bus station to his right.  The man is waving through an open window, trying to get his attention.  He throws open his hatch and slightly pokes his head up to try and hear the man.  The Feldwebel shouts that Landsers are attacking the two Sherman tanks, running into the smoke screen.  Ruckdeschel had seen the smoke dropping, but in the absence of any instruction, he had remained in his position, covered by the wall of the bus station. 
As the smoke clears fast, the Feldwebel gives Erwin a running blow-by-blow as he describes Witt’s and Hardenberger’s men being cut down by the enemy tanks.  This is too much for Ruckdeschel.
He gives his orders fast.  He has the turret swung to the 2 o’clock position, and he orders his driver to move forward smoothly about 15 meters.  He tells the crew they are going to try and hit the two enemy tanks in the flank, just like von Pannwitz tried earlier, but his crew is going to succeed perfectly.  The men nod quietly and grimly.
“Now!” he orders, and the tank slides smoothly out from cover, gun turret already lined up in the right direction.  A soldier, incapacitated from his wound, lies helplessly in the street as the giant panzer rolls past him, missing him by centimeters.  He can only scream, knowing that no one will hear him over the roar of the panzer engine. 
He stops screaming when he realizes he has not been crushed.  Then new terror fills him.  What if the tank turns?  What if the tank is blown up?  Horrors flood through his mind but he is powerless to do anything.  Mercifully he passes out from blood loss and fear.
Erwin’s gunner has two perfect flank shots, just as predicted by his commander.  The Sherman on the left starts to turn its turret.  That makes the choice for the gunner.
 

The first shot is a hit.  Is it a kill?  No time to judge.  The second Sherman is now trying to turn the turret towards them.  Ruckdeschel lets his gunner turn the turret smoothly to address the 2nd target.
 

The second shot – this is a certain kill.  The second Sherman is torn apart in a massive explosion.  Still no time to breathe or think.  The gunner gently sweeps the turret back to the first Sherman.  They have to be sure.  Moments count.  Seconds tick off.  Erwin is not aware that he has stopped breathing. 
The tank is utter silence, save for the clang of the ejected shell casing on the floor of the tank and the schick of the new round being slammed home into the breech, then the slam of the breech as the shell is rammed into the gun.  The loader cries out that the gun is ready.
Unvented smoke is wafting through the interior and the heavy smell of burnt powder is tickling the back of Ruckdeschel’s throat.
 

The gun roars again, and sparks and flames gush from the 1st target.  It is a kill too!!!  Smoke is already pouring from the burning wreckage of the other Sherman.
“Damn fine job, Comrades, Damn fine job!” shouts Ruckdeschel.  The crewmen smile and bask in their commander’s praise, while still watching the enemy ahead.
 

A figure is seen leaping from the burning tank on the left.  His uniform is blackened and smoking.
 

A second man falls from the Sherman.  Then a third.  All are burned and covered in soot.  They are too far away to see any blood.  Ruckdeschel sees the faces of his men turning towards him, questions on their faces as they wait for orders.
“Let them go,” he says quietly.  “Don’t fire.”  He thinks he sees relief in the faces of his crewmen as they turn back to their stations.  He knows the Canadian tankers have fought with skill and bravery, just men doing a horrible job.  The survivors deserve a chance to escape.
 

With the destruction of the two enemy tanks in their crucial defensive position, the Canadian opposition wanes and they fall back to defensive positions outside of the town.
Oberleutnant’s Gloser’s command squad emerges from the vineyard and joins with Rolf’s MG team.  They are bloody and grim from attending to all the wounded in the vineyard.
Pioniere Harzer, the sole survivor of Hardenberger’s attack in the smoke, finds his squad leader bleeding in a shellhole, wounded as he fled the attack on the enemy tanks.  Harzer still has satchel charges that he didn’t use in the attack, as he faltered at the last minute when they entered the smoke and he found cover to hide.  Hardenberger is bleeding and unconscious.  Harzer shoves the charges under some nearby rubble and attends to dressing his squad leader’s wounds.  No one will know.
Witt and his entire squad are wiped out.  They will never know if they immobilized the one tank in their attack.  The two tanks are destroyed so it wouldn’t matter to anyone but Witt and his survivors if their attack was for nothing.
Witt is badly wounded, as are two others from his squad.  Three are dead and the attending Sanitäter remove identity discs from the fallen while others patch up Witt and move him and the rest of his wounded squad to the rear.
Ruckdeschel knows that the attackers in the smoke played a vital part.  He saw that the two enemy tanks were distracted by the brave Landsers in the smoke.  This was what gave his tank the edge, that and the skill of his crew.  He is so proud of them – the crew can see it in his eyes.    
Rolf Schenk sees a very different skyline of Villa Roggati now.  It is a scene of carnage and destruction.
He shakes his head at the stubborn Canadians.  They fought with skill and honor and they died when overwhelmed.  They have surely given his comrades a bad blooding this day.  He wonders why they didn’t just retreat out of the town.  Why did they stay and die?  Do they owe The Queen and England their lives?
One of his comrades gives the Canadians an off-handed compliment.  “I sure don’t want to come up against these bastards again,” he mutters.  Rolf quietly concurs.

The war goes on.
 
Heinrich505 

With much talk centering on CMFI and the upcoming (hopefully soon) release, I played out a scenario that had some great action.  I thought I would share it.
 

It is December 6, 1943, 2:15 PM local time, and Obersoldat Rolf Schenk peers through his binoculars at Villa Roggati.  His uniform is soaking wet, the cold rain running in rivulets down his neck and back.  It drums off his steel helmet with maddening consistency.  He wipes the smears of rainwater off the end of his binoculars, letting out a sigh of frustration.  Things are quiet now, way too quiet. 
He was in town when the Canadians attacked, and his unit had to retreat.  They took up positions just outside of town, and now he has his MG team set up where they can just barely see the town.  He has been tasked to support the coming counter-attack, but Hauptmann Esch has also given him the job of providing intelligence from his vantage point.  He has not been given a radio, so he will have to break away one of his ammo carriers for this task, leaving him a man down.  He is not pleased.
He quietly waves over one of his ammo carriers, gives him specific details, has the man repeat them, and then sends him to the rear with his observations.  Time is ticking inexorably towards the attack time of 2:30 PM.
 

The attack begins, slowly at first.  Artillery begins to fall on the town at precisely 2:30 PM.  Off to Rolf’s left is a PAK, set up to cover approaches into the town.  Suddenly two Sherman tanks are spotted by the PAK gunners.  The tanks ease out from behind a large white building – they are barely visible.  The PAK gun is pointed straight at their location, but a hail of MG fire from the tanks causes the gun crew to duck for cover.  Then they are slowly picked off by the deadly hail of lead, one at a time, until they are all dead or wounded.  Schenk can hear the wounded moaning in pain, but he dares not move from his position to help.  The tanks have that location zeroed in.
 

Rolf hears the distinctive squeal of tank treads as panzers move up to try and duel with the Canadian tanks.  The Germans didn’t have tanks earlier when they were thrown out of the town by the Canadian attack.  Now they do.  He wonders where HQ managed to scrape them up.  If they’d had them earlier, then they would still be in the damn village.  One of his crew mutters that the tankers will deal with those upstart Canadians.  The panzers roar and 7.5 cm shells launch towards the enemy tanks.
 

The lead tank trundles forward under cover of the following tanks.  Oberstleutnant Fuhrmann is trying to gain a flank shot on the enemy tanks.  He has his driver ease past a small shed, his turret already facing the right direction.  Fuhrmann is confident they will get the first shot off.  As his tank barely clears the shed, Fuhrmann stares in shocked horror down the barrel of one of the enemy tanks.  The tank spouts fire, and the first shell rips into the lower front of his tank.
Smoke instantly fills the interior.  He can hear screaming from the driver and radio man positions.  His gunner is already ripping at the side hatch, self-preservation overtaking any thoughts of return fire. 
Fuhrmann is counting down numbers in his head.  He knows a good tank crew can reload in about 5 seconds.  He yells “Everyone OUT!!!” as he reaches up for the…4…hatch.  The lever swings…3…and he throws his back against the hatch.  The hatch flies…2…open and he is looking up at grey sky that immediately bathes his face with cold rain.  He starts to…1…clamber up into the cold rain and he hears the roar of a tank gun.  He realizes that if he hears the gun, the round is already on the way…his last sight is a boiling roar of red flames…
 

View from the Canadian tank – a catastrophic explosion as the kill shot ignites the enemy tanks ammunition loadout.  There are no survivors.
 

In the space of a mere five minutes, the Canadian tank gunners knock out three German panzers.  This view is from the Canadian held town. 
Funeral pyres of the flaming steel coffins rise into the grey December sky.  Fuhrmann’s tank lies in a crater in the road, caused by the giant explosion.  Schenk sees some badly burned survivors run from the other tanks.  He immediately sends his runner back to Hauptmann Esch to inform him that the initial thrust up the center is being blocked expertly by the Canadians.
 

Hauptmann Esch slams his fist down on the hood of his Kubelwagen.  He didn’t rush the armor in.  He was cautious.  Still, the verdammt Canadians are putting on a show.  His right flank is getting blasted by very accurate artillery fire.  He sends out the orders – Left Flank, GO!
Several remaining panzers veer off to the left flank.  They take a circuitous route, bogging at times, but somehow managing to pull out of the sticky Italian mud.  They arrive in time to support the Landsers who are trying to overwhelm stubborn Canadian resistance.  The cowering ground-pounders find new courage with the arrival of the steel monsters, and they rise up to push through the warehouses on the left flank.
 

Pioniere Unteroffizier Hardenberger leads his squad up the same road as Fuhrmann.  He is confident they can work their way along an embankment, concealing their approach.  As they near the flaming wreck of Fuhrmann’s panzer, 7.5 cm shells and machine gun fire tear into his men.  He screams “VORWÄRTS” and sprints towards the shed that appears to be the only real cover available.  Two more of his men crash through the door and throw themselves on the floor, panting with exertion and adrenaline.  Hardenberger can just see the Sherman tank through a crack in the wall.  How the hell did it see us? he wonders.  “These Canadians are possessed by the Teufel,” he mutters out loud.
 

The unlucky Pioniere caught by the enemy tanks…
Fuhrmann’s tank still burns on the road. 
 

Hauptmann Esch receives reports that the left flank attack has broken through into the town.  He orders his command staff into their Kubelwagen and he heads around the left flank to see the progress.
Hauptmann Erwin Ruckdeschel leads the push into the town from the left flank.  His Mark IV Panzer takes a right turn on the first street and eases slowly towards the town center.  He is careful not to outpace the infantry.  Like all panzer men, he hates fighting in the close confines of any town.  Dead Canadian soldiers lay in the street as a reminder that nothing is safe here.
“Feind Panzer, Eins Uhr!” shouts his gunner.
Ruckdeschel’s eyes immediately snap to the one o’clock position.  His gunner had already pointed the turret in this direction moments before, as the driver slanted the tank at a slight angle to increase their front armor effectiveness.  He sees the barrel drop ever so slightly as his gunner lines up the shot.  He has a very good crew.
Following tanks are covering flanks with HE, and he had his loader keep AP in the breech.  He calls out “115 meters.”  This is knife fighting for panzers.  They are so close.  
Erwin sees the enemy Sherman tank starting to round the corner.  Their turret is already turning in his direction.  He smiles, knowing they will be too late.
“Fire!” he shouts, the roar of the cannon rocking the tank.  Smoke fills the interior and then begins to vent.  “Treffer!” shouts the driver.  Now Erwin can see the explosion.  Flank shot.  It is a kill!
Two more Sherman tanks will try to work around their flaming comrade and will meet the same hideous end, brewing up after taking one or two hits.  Ruckdeschel’s crew is putting on a clinic.
 

A forward MG crew has set up in a blown up gasoline station.  The pumps are still standing but the building is rubble.  They took casualties and one of the crew tries to stem the bleeding of his comrade.
In the distance to the right, another squad of Pioniere are also attending to casualties.  Smoke from the three Shermans brewed up by Ruckdeschel are ahead to the left. 
Ruckdeschel and the crew of a Wespe, commanded by Unteroffizier Thylin, systematically reduce the buildings that are sheltering the two Shermans that blunted the initial attack.  Their handiwork can be seen by the MG team, as a field of rubble that used to be buildings now stretch out before them. 
Stabsfeldwebel von Pannwitz tried to ease his Mark IV Panzer slightly past the bus station to get a flank shot on the enemy tanks.  Again the cursed Canadian tanker somehow was already watching.  Von Pannwitz took a shell in the turret, knocking out his main gun.  Obergefreiter Lorenko is now in command and Ruckdeschel does not know if his friend, von Pannwitz, is dead, dying, or merely wounded.  It tears at him but he keeps his focus on the dangers all around him.
 

There is some confusion now, as the battle grinds to a halt.  The two Canadian tanks at the front of the village are stopping the frontal assault and have now stopped the flank attack too.  They are perfectly placed to interdict any movement towards them from the front or from the side street where Ruckdeschel sits.  And, unfortunately, they are very good at their craft.
Hauptmann Ulrich is given hand signals by Unteroffizier Franz Witt.  They are at the front edge of a vineyard and can see the enemy tanks, maybe 100 meters to their front.  Ulrich sees that Witt wants a smoke screen dropped on the enemy tank position.  If that happens then perhaps the tanks in town can get the drop on them.
Franz has something more daring in mind.  He plans to lead his squad into the smoke for a close assault of the enemy tankers.  The Hauptmann doesn’t get that part of the message.
Ulrich calls in the smoke.  The FO is one of the best, and the smoke rounds start to fall in about 3 minutes.  The smoke is now building all over the enemy tanks.  They will be blind.  The tanks on the flank will now be able to advance and once the smoke dissipates, they will have the drop on the Canadians.
Ulrich sees Witt leap to his feet, and start sprinting towards the wall of smoke.  Witt’s squad instantly rises as one and they pound after their squad leader.
Hardenberger sees the smoke and immediately has the same idea as Witt, even though he has no idea what Witt is planning.  One of Hardenberger’s survivors has at least one satchel charge and they can use that on the blind tanks.  He roars to his two men to charge the tanks.  They leap to their feet and begin the crazy charge towards the wall of smoke and probably certain death.
 

Rolf Schenk and his men see the smoke dropping.  There is a silent Mark IV right next to their position, yet another panzer vexed by the skill of the Canadian tankers and knocked out with a single shot.  All the crew got out of this one though.  In front of the berm protecting his men are two dead soldiers from an earlier attempt to sneak through the vineyard.
They have no idea what is being planned, until Rolf sees Unteroffizier Hardenberger and his two men, greatcoats dark against the backdrop of white smoke, pounding across the wet field from the left, heading right for the smoke.  He catches his breath at the daring attack, and one of his men shouts “Sind Sie verrück?”  This echoes his own thoughts – they must, indeed, be crazy. 
They don’t see Witt and his men off to the right, as the smoke has already obscured their equally mad charge.
 

It is chaos and madness in the smoke.  Hardenberger can barely hear anything from the loud pounding of his blood through his head.  Machine gun fire rips the smoke, as the Canadians fire blindly.  He barely hears the screams of one of his men, and he finds himself running just under the barrel of the enemy Sherman.  He has no idea that Witt’s men are also rushing into the smoke.  Witt himself is crawling towards the misty bulk of the enemy steel monster that lashes out at the host of tormentors that mean to do it harm.
Hardenberger rues the fact that he didn’t take the satchel charge himself, as he is now in the perfect spot to attach it to the enemy tank.  But all he can do is run in the smoke, hoping the enemy tankers focus on him and don’t see his men trying to assault it with the satchel charge.  He now seeks some sort of cover as the tank flails the smoke with its machine guns.
 

Franz Witt’s men are among the two enemy tanks.  There is some slight cover from the rubble of a building and some craters from artillery fire.  The smoke is dissipating way too fast – the rain is settling it too quickly.  Dammit, Witt thinks, they only have seconds to live now.
Witt takes cover in a crater and hurls his grenade.  The man to his left – Max, he thinks but can’t be sure – is about to shove a grenade into the front tracks of the tank.  Karl, off to his right, is about to hurl yet another grenade.  All he can do is hold his breath now.  It occurs to him that maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.
 

Witt’s grenade goes off, a cascade of sparks and smoke lighting up the side of the tank.  Two more grenades are heading for the enemy monster.  It is time for them to get the hell out of this deathtrap.  He screams to his men to run.  The enemy tanks open up with their machine guns.  He hears some of his men scream as they are hit.  Everyone runs like frightened rabbits in every direction to confuse the enemy gunners.
 

Erwin Ruckdeschel sees a Feldwebel in the captured bus station to his right.  The man is waving through an open window, trying to get his attention.  He throws open his hatch and slightly pokes his head up to try and hear the man.  The Feldwebel shouts that Landsers are attacking the two Sherman tanks, running into the smoke screen.  Ruckdeschel had seen the smoke dropping, but in the absence of any instruction, he had remained in his position, covered by the wall of the bus station. 
As the smoke clears fast, the Feldwebel gives Erwin a running blow-by-blow as he describes Witt’s and Hardenberger’s men being cut down by the enemy tanks.  This is too much for Ruckdeschel.
He gives his orders fast.  He has the turret swung to the 2 o’clock position, and he orders his driver to move forward smoothly about 15 meters.  He tells the crew they are going to try and hit the two enemy tanks in the flank, just like von Pannwitz tried earlier, but his crew is going to succeed perfectly.  The men nod quietly and grimly.
“Now!” he orders, and the tank slides smoothly out from cover, gun turret already lined up in the right direction.  A soldier, incapacitated from his wound, lies helplessly in the street as the giant panzer rolls past him, missing him by centimeters.  He can only scream, knowing that no one will hear him over the roar of the panzer engine. 
He stops screaming when he realizes he has not been crushed.  Then new terror fills him.  What if the tank turns?  What if the tank is blown up?  Horrors flood through his mind but he is powerless to do anything.  Mercifully he passes out from blood loss and fear.
Erwin’s gunner has two perfect flank shots, just as predicted by his commander.  The Sherman on the left starts to turn its turret.  That makes the choice for the gunner.
 

The first shot is a hit.  Is it a kill?  No time to judge.  The second Sherman is now trying to turn the turret towards them.  Ruckdeschel lets his gunner turn the turret smoothly to address the 2nd target.
 

The second shot – this is a certain kill.  The second Sherman is torn apart in a massive explosion.  Still no time to breathe or think.  The gunner gently sweeps the turret back to the first Sherman.  They have to be sure.  Moments count.  Seconds tick off.  Erwin is not aware that he has stopped breathing. 
The tank is utter silence, save for the clang of the ejected shell casing on the floor of the tank and the schick of the new round being slammed home into the breech, then the slam of the breech as the shell is rammed into the gun.  The loader cries out that the gun is ready.
Unvented smoke is wafting through the interior and the heavy smell of burnt powder is tickling the back of Ruckdeschel’s throat.
 

The gun roars again, and sparks and flames gush from the 1st target.  It is a kill too!!!  Smoke is already pouring from the burning wreckage of the other Sherman.
“Damn fine job, Comrades, Damn fine job!” shouts Ruckdeschel.  The crewmen smile and bask in their commander’s praise, while still watching the enemy ahead.
 

A figure is seen leaping from the burning tank on the left.  His uniform is blackened and smoking.
 

A second man falls from the Sherman.  Then a third.  All are burned and covered in soot.  They are too far away to see any blood.  Ruckdeschel sees the faces of his men turning towards him, questions on their faces as they wait for orders.
“Let them go,” he says quietly.  “Don’t fire.”  He thinks he sees relief in the faces of his crewmen as they turn back to their stations.  He knows the Canadian tankers have fought with skill and bravery, just men doing a horrible job.  The survivors deserve a chance to escape.
 

With the destruction of the two enemy tanks in their crucial defensive position, the Canadian opposition wanes and they fall back to defensive positions outside of the town.
Oberleutnant’s Gloser’s command squad emerges from the vineyard and joins with Rolf’s MG team.  They are bloody and grim from attending to all the wounded in the vineyard.
Pioniere Harzer, the sole survivor of Hardenberger’s attack in the smoke, finds his squad leader bleeding in a shellhole, wounded as he fled the attack on the enemy tanks.  Harzer still has satchel charges that he didn’t use in the attack, as he faltered at the last minute when they entered the smoke and he found cover to hide.  Hardenberger is bleeding and unconscious.  Harzer shoves the charges under some nearby rubble and attends to dressing his squad leader’s wounds.  No one will know.
Witt and his entire squad are wiped out.  They will never know if they immobilized the one tank in their attack.  The two tanks are destroyed so it wouldn’t matter to anyone but Witt and his survivors if their attack was for nothing.
Witt is badly wounded, as are two others from his squad.  Three are dead and the attending Sanitäter remove identity discs from the fallen while others patch up Witt and move him and the rest of his wounded squad to the rear.
Ruckdeschel knows that the attackers in the smoke played a vital part.  He saw that the two enemy tanks were distracted by the brave Landsers in the smoke.  This was what gave his tank the edge, that and the skill of his crew.  He is so proud of them – the crew can see it in his eyes.    
Rolf Schenk sees a very different skyline of Villa Roggati now.  It is a scene of carnage and destruction.
He shakes his head at the stubborn Canadians.  They fought with skill and honor and they died when overwhelmed.  They have surely given his comrades a bad blooding this day.  He wonders why they didn’t just retreat out of the town.  Why did they stay and die?  Do they owe The Queen and England their lives?
One of his comrades gives the Canadians an off-handed compliment.  “I sure don’t want to come up against these bastards again,” he mutters.  Rolf quietly concurs.

The war goes on.
 
Heinrich505 

With much talk centering on CMFI and the upcoming (hopefully soon) release, I played out a scenario that had some great action.  I thought I would share it.
 

It is December 6, 1943, 2:15 PM local time, and Obersoldat Rolf Schenk peers through his binoculars at Villa Roggati.  His uniform is soaking wet, the cold rain running in rivulets down his neck and back.  It drums off his steel helmet with maddening consistency.  He wipes the smears of rainwater off the end of his binoculars, letting out a sigh of frustration.  Things are quiet now, way too quiet. 
He was in town when the Canadians attacked, and his unit had to retreat.  They took up positions just outside of town, and now he has his MG team set up where they can just barely see the town.  He has been tasked to support the coming counter-attack, but Hauptmann Esch has also given him the job of providing intelligence from his vantage point.  He has not been given a radio, so he will have to break away one of his ammo carriers for this task, leaving him a man down.  He is not pleased.
He quietly waves over one of his ammo carriers, gives him specific details, has the man repeat them, and then sends him to the rear with his observations.  Time is ticking inexorably towards the attack time of 2:30 PM.
 

The attack begins, slowly at first.  Artillery begins to fall on the town at precisely 2:30 PM.  Off to Rolf’s left is a PAK, set up to cover approaches into the town.  Suddenly two Sherman tanks are spotted by the PAK gunners.  The tanks ease out from behind a large white building – they are barely visible.  The PAK gun is pointed straight at their location, but a hail of MG fire from the tanks causes the gun crew to duck for cover.  Then they are slowly picked off by the deadly hail of lead, one at a time, until they are all dead or wounded.  Schenk can hear the wounded moaning in pain, but he dares not move from his position to help.  The tanks have that location zeroed in.
 

Rolf hears the distinctive squeal of tank treads as panzers move up to try and duel with the Canadian tanks.  The Germans didn’t have tanks earlier when they were thrown out of the town by the Canadian attack.  Now they do.  He wonders where HQ managed to scrape them up.  If they’d had them earlier, then they would still be in the damn village.  One of his crew mutters that the tankers will deal with those upstart Canadians.  The panzers roar and 7.5 cm shells launch towards the enemy tanks.
 

The lead tank trundles forward under cover of the following tanks.  Oberstleutnant Fuhrmann is trying to gain a flank shot on the enemy tanks.  He has his driver ease past a small shed, his turret already facing the right direction.  Fuhrmann is confident they will get the first shot off.  As his tank barely clears the shed, Fuhrmann stares in shocked horror down the barrel of one of the enemy tanks.  The tank spouts fire, and the first shell rips into the lower front of his tank.
Smoke instantly fills the interior.  He can hear screaming from the driver and radio man positions.  His gunner is already ripping at the side hatch, self-preservation overtaking any thoughts of return fire. 
Fuhrmann is counting down numbers in his head.  He knows a good tank crew can reload in about 5 seconds.  He yells “Everyone OUT!!!” as he reaches up for the…4…hatch.  The lever swings…3…and he throws his back against the hatch.  The hatch flies…2…open and he is looking up at grey sky that immediately bathes his face with cold rain.  He starts to…1…clamber up into the cold rain and he hears the roar of a tank gun.  He realizes that if he hears the gun, the round is already on the way…his last sight is a boiling roar of red flames…
 

View from the Canadian tank – a catastrophic explosion as the kill shot ignites the enemy tanks ammunition loadout.  There are no survivors.
 

In the space of a mere five minutes, the Canadian tank gunners knock out three German panzers.  This view is from the Canadian held town. 
Funeral pyres of the flaming steel coffins rise into the grey December sky.  Fuhrmann’s tank lies in a crater in the road, caused by the giant explosion.  Schenk sees some badly burned survivors run from the other tanks.  He immediately sends his runner back to Hauptmann Esch to inform him that the initial thrust up the center is being blocked expertly by the Canadians.
 

Hauptmann Esch slams his fist down on the hood of his Kubelwagen.  He didn’t rush the armor in.  He was cautious.  Still, the verdammt Canadians are putting on a show.  His right flank is getting blasted by very accurate artillery fire.  He sends out the orders – Left Flank, GO!
Several remaining panzers veer off to the left flank.  They take a circuitous route, bogging at times, but somehow managing to pull out of the sticky Italian mud.  They arrive in time to support the Landsers who are trying to overwhelm stubborn Canadian resistance.  The cowering ground-pounders find new courage with the arrival of the steel monsters, and they rise up to push through the warehouses on the left flank.
 

Pioniere Unteroffizier Hardenberger leads his squad up the same road as Fuhrmann.  He is confident they can work their way along an embankment, concealing their approach.  As they near the flaming wreck of Fuhrmann’s panzer, 7.5 cm shells and machine gun fire tear into his men.  He screams “VORWÄRTS” and sprints towards the shed that appears to be the only real cover available.  Two more of his men crash through the door and throw themselves on the floor, panting with exertion and adrenaline.  Hardenberger can just see the Sherman tank through a crack in the wall.  How the hell did it see us? he wonders.  “These Canadians are possessed by the Teufel,” he mutters out loud.
 

The unlucky Pioniere caught by the enemy tanks…
Fuhrmann’s tank still burns on the road. 
 

Hauptmann Esch receives reports that the left flank attack has broken through into the town.  He orders his command staff into their Kubelwagen and he heads around the left flank to see the progress.
Hauptmann Erwin Ruckdeschel leads the push into the town from the left flank.  His Mark IV Panzer takes a right turn on the first street and eases slowly towards the town center.  He is careful not to outpace the infantry.  Like all panzer men, he hates fighting in the close confines of any town.  Dead Canadian soldiers lay in the street as a reminder that nothing is safe here.
“Feind Panzer, Eins Uhr!” shouts his gunner.
Ruckdeschel’s eyes immediately snap to the one o’clock position.  His gunner had already pointed the turret in this direction moments before, as the driver slanted the tank at a slight angle to increase their front armor effectiveness.  He sees the barrel drop ever so slightly as his gunner lines up the shot.  He has a very good crew.
Following tanks are covering flanks with HE, and he had his loader keep AP in the breech.  He calls out “115 meters.”  This is knife fighting for panzers.  They are so close.  
Erwin sees the enemy Sherman tank starting to round the corner.  Their turret is already turning in his direction.  He smiles, knowing they will be too late.
“Fire!” he shouts, the roar of the cannon rocking the tank.  Smoke fills the interior and then begins to vent.  “Treffer!” shouts the driver.  Now Erwin can see the explosion.  Flank shot.  It is a kill!
Two more Sherman tanks will try to work around their flaming comrade and will meet the same hideous end, brewing up after taking one or two hits.  Ruckdeschel’s crew is putting on a clinic.
 

A forward MG crew has set up in a blown up gasoline station.  The pumps are still standing but the building is rubble.  They took casualties and one of the crew tries to stem the bleeding of his comrade.
In the distance to the right, another squad of Pioniere are also attending to casualties.  Smoke from the three Shermans brewed up by Ruckdeschel are ahead to the left. 
Ruckdeschel and the crew of a Wespe, commanded by Unteroffizier Thylin, systematically reduce the buildings that are sheltering the two Shermans that blunted the initial attack.  Their handiwork can be seen by the MG team, as a field of rubble that used to be buildings now stretch out before them. 
Stabsfeldwebel von Pannwitz tried to ease his Mark IV Panzer slightly past the bus station to get a flank shot on the enemy tanks.  Again the cursed Canadian tanker somehow was already watching.  Von Pannwitz took a shell in the turret, knocking out his main gun.  Obergefreiter Lorenko is now in command and Ruckdeschel does not know if his friend, von Pannwitz, is dead, dying, or merely wounded.  It tears at him but he keeps his focus on the dangers all around him.
 

There is some confusion now, as the battle grinds to a halt.  The two Canadian tanks at the front of the village are stopping the frontal assault and have now stopped the flank attack too.  They are perfectly placed to interdict any movement towards them from the front or from the side street where Ruckdeschel sits.  And, unfortunately, they are very good at their craft.
Hauptmann Ulrich is given hand signals by Unteroffizier Franz Witt.  They are at the front edge of a vineyard and can see the enemy tanks, maybe 100 meters to their front.  Ulrich sees that Witt wants a smoke screen dropped on the enemy tank position.  If that happens then perhaps the tanks in town can get the drop on them.
Franz has something more daring in mind.  He plans to lead his squad into the smoke for a close assault of the enemy tankers.  The Hauptmann doesn’t get that part of the message.
Ulrich calls in the smoke.  The FO is one of the best, and the smoke rounds start to fall in about 3 minutes.  The smoke is now building all over the enemy tanks.  They will be blind.  The tanks on the flank will now be able to advance and once the smoke dissipates, they will have the drop on the Canadians.
Ulrich sees Witt leap to his feet, and start sprinting towards the wall of smoke.  Witt’s squad instantly rises as one and they pound after their squad leader.
Hardenberger sees the smoke and immediately has the same idea as Witt, even though he has no idea what Witt is planning.  One of Hardenberger’s survivors has at least one satchel charge and they can use that on the blind tanks.  He roars to his two men to charge the tanks.  They leap to their feet and begin the crazy charge towards the wall of smoke and probably certain death.
 

Rolf Schenk and his men see the smoke dropping.  There is a silent Mark IV right next to their position, yet another panzer vexed by the skill of the Canadian tankers and knocked out with a single shot.  All the crew got out of this one though.  In front of the berm protecting his men are two dead soldiers from an earlier attempt to sneak through the vineyard.
They have no idea what is being planned, until Rolf sees Unteroffizier Hardenberger and his two men, greatcoats dark against the backdrop of white smoke, pounding across the wet field from the left, heading right for the smoke.  He catches his breath at the daring attack, and one of his men shouts “Sind Sie verrück?”  This echoes his own thoughts – they must, indeed, be crazy. 
They don’t see Witt and his men off to the right, as the smoke has already obscured their equally mad charge.
 

It is chaos and madness in the smoke.  Hardenberger can barely hear anything from the loud pounding of his blood through his head.  Machine gun fire rips the smoke, as the Canadians fire blindly.  He barely hears the screams of one of his men, and he finds himself running just under the barrel of the enemy Sherman.  He has no idea that Witt’s men are also rushing into the smoke.  Witt himself is crawling towards the misty bulk of the enemy steel monster that lashes out at the host of tormentors that mean to do it harm.
Hardenberger rues the fact that he didn’t take the satchel charge himself, as he is now in the perfect spot to attach it to the enemy tank.  But all he can do is run in the smoke, hoping the enemy tankers focus on him and don’t see his men trying to assault it with the satchel charge.  He now seeks some sort of cover as the tank flails the smoke with its machine guns.
 

Franz Witt’s men are among the two enemy tanks.  There is some slight cover from the rubble of a building and some craters from artillery fire.  The smoke is dissipating way too fast – the rain is settling it too quickly.  Dammit, Witt thinks, they only have seconds to live now.
Witt takes cover in a crater and hurls his grenade.  The man to his left – Max, he thinks but can’t be sure – is about to shove a grenade into the front tracks of the tank.  Karl, off to his right, is about to hurl yet another grenade.  All he can do is hold his breath now.  It occurs to him that maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.
 

Witt’s grenade goes off, a cascade of sparks and smoke lighting up the side of the tank.  Two more grenades are heading for the enemy monster.  It is time for them to get the hell out of this deathtrap.  He screams to his men to run.  The enemy tanks open up with their machine guns.  He hears some of his men scream as they are hit.  Everyone runs like frightened rabbits in every direction to confuse the enemy gunners.
 

Erwin Ruckdeschel sees a Feldwebel in the captured bus station to his right.  The man is waving through an open window, trying to get his attention.  He throws open his hatch and slightly pokes his head up to try and hear the man.  The Feldwebel shouts that Landsers are attacking the two Sherman tanks, running into the smoke screen.  Ruckdeschel had seen the smoke dropping, but in the absence of any instruction, he had remained in his position, covered by the wall of the bus station. 
As the smoke clears fast, the Feldwebel gives Erwin a running blow-by-blow as he describes Witt’s and Hardenberger’s men being cut down by the enemy tanks.  This is too much for Ruckdeschel.
He gives his orders fast.  He has the turret swung to the 2 o’clock position, and he orders his driver to move forward smoothly about 15 meters.  He tells the crew they are going to try and hit the two enemy tanks in the flank, just like von Pannwitz tried earlier, but his crew is going to succeed perfectly.  The men nod quietly and grimly.
“Now!” he orders, and the tank slides smoothly out from cover, gun turret already lined up in the right direction.  A soldier, incapacitated from his wound, lies helplessly in the street as the giant panzer rolls past him, missing him by centimeters.  He can only scream, knowing that no one will hear him over the roar of the panzer engine. 
He stops screaming when he realizes he has not been crushed.  Then new terror fills him.  What if the tank turns?  What if the tank is blown up?  Horrors flood through his mind but he is powerless to do anything.  Mercifully he passes out from blood loss and fear.
Erwin’s gunner has two perfect flank shots, just as predicted by his commander.  The Sherman on the left starts to turn its turret.  That makes the choice for the gunner.
 

The first shot is a hit.  Is it a kill?  No time to judge.  The second Sherman is now trying to turn the turret towards them.  Ruckdeschel lets his gunner turn the turret smoothly to address the 2nd target.
 

The second shot – this is a certain kill.  The second Sherman is torn apart in a massive explosion.  Still no time to breathe or think.  The gunner gently sweeps the turret back to the first Sherman.  They have to be sure.  Moments count.  Seconds tick off.  Erwin is not aware that he has stopped breathing. 
The tank is utter silence, save for the clang of the ejected shell casing on the floor of the tank and the schick of the new round being slammed home into the breech, then the slam of the breech as the shell is rammed into the gun.  The loader cries out that the gun is ready.
Unvented smoke is wafting through the interior and the heavy smell of burnt powder is tickling the back of Ruckdeschel’s throat.
 

The gun roars again, and sparks and flames gush from the 1st target.  It is a kill too!!!  Smoke is already pouring from the burning wreckage of the other Sherman.
“Damn fine job, Comrades, Damn fine job!” shouts Ruckdeschel.  The crewmen smile and bask in their commander’s praise, while still watching the enemy ahead.
 

A figure is seen leaping from the burning tank on the left.  His uniform is blackened and smoking.
 

A second man falls from the Sherman.  Then a third.  All are burned and covered in soot.  They are too far away to see any blood.  Ruckdeschel sees the faces of his men turning towards him, questions on their faces as they wait for orders.
“Let them go,” he says quietly.  “Don’t fire.”  He thinks he sees relief in the faces of his crewmen as they turn back to their stations.  He knows the Canadian tankers have fought with skill and bravery, just men doing a horrible job.  The survivors deserve a chance to escape.
 

With the destruction of the two enemy tanks in their crucial defensive position, the Canadian opposition wanes and they fall back to defensive positions outside of the town.
Oberleutnant’s Gloser’s command squad emerges from the vineyard and joins with Rolf’s MG team.  They are bloody and grim from attending to all the wounded in the vineyard.
Pioniere Harzer, the sole survivor of Hardenberger’s attack in the smoke, finds his squad leader bleeding in a shellhole, wounded as he fled the attack on the enemy tanks.  Harzer still has satchel charges that he didn’t use in the attack, as he faltered at the last minute when they entered the smoke and he found cover to hide.  Hardenberger is bleeding and unconscious.  Harzer shoves the charges under some nearby rubble and attends to dressing his squad leader’s wounds.  No one will know.
Witt and his entire squad are wiped out.  They will never know if they immobilized the one tank in their attack.  The two tanks are destroyed so it wouldn’t matter to anyone but Witt and his survivors if their attack was for nothing.
Witt is badly wounded, as are two others from his squad.  Three are dead and the attending Sanitäter remove identity discs from the fallen while others patch up Witt and move him and the rest of his wounded squad to the rear.
Ruckdeschel knows that the attackers in the smoke played a vital part.  He saw that the two enemy tanks were distracted by the brave Landsers in the smoke.  This was what gave his tank the edge, that and the skill of his crew.  He is so proud of them – the crew can see it in his eyes.    
Rolf Schenk sees a very different skyline of Villa Roggati now.  It is a scene of carnage and destruction.
He shakes his head at the stubborn Canadians.  They fought with skill and honor and they died when overwhelmed.  They have surely given his comrades a bad blooding this day.  He wonders why they didn’t just retreat out of the town.  Why did they stay and die?  Do they owe The Queen and England their lives?
One of his comrades gives the Canadians an off-handed compliment.  “I sure don’t want to come up against these bastards again,” he mutters.  Rolf quietly concurs.

The war goes on.
 
Heinrich505 

With much talk centering on CMFI and the upcoming (hopefully soon) release, I played out a scenario that had some great action.  I thought I would share it.
 

It is December 6, 1943, 2:15 PM local time, and Obersoldat Rolf Schenk peers through his binoculars at Villa Roggati.  His uniform is soaking wet, the cold rain running in rivulets down his neck and back.  It drums off his steel helmet with maddening consistency.  He wipes the smears of rainwater off the end of his binoculars, letting out a sigh of frustration.  Things are quiet now, way too quiet. 
He was in town when the Canadians attacked, and his unit had to retreat.  They took up positions just outside of town, and now he has his MG team set up where they can just barely see the town.  He has been tasked to support the coming counter-attack, but Hauptmann Esch has also given him the job of providing intelligence from his vantage point.  He has not been given a radio, so he will have to break away one of his ammo carriers for this task, leaving him a man down.  He is not pleased.
He quietly waves over one of his ammo carriers, gives him specific details, has the man repeat them, and then sends him to the rear with his observations.  Time is ticking inexorably towards the attack time of 2:30 PM.
 

The attack begins, slowly at first.  Artillery begins to fall on the town at precisely 2:30 PM.  Off to Rolf’s left is a PAK, set up to cover approaches into the town.  Suddenly two Sherman tanks are spotted by the PAK gunners.  The tanks ease out from behind a large white building – they are barely visible.  The PAK gun is pointed straight at their location, but a hail of MG fire from the tanks causes the gun crew to duck for cover.  Then they are slowly picked off by the deadly hail of lead, one at a time, until they are all dead or wounded.  Schenk can hear the wounded moaning in pain, but he dares not move from his position to help.  The tanks have that location zeroed in.
 

Rolf hears the distinctive squeal of tank treads as panzers move up to try and duel with the Canadian tanks.  The Germans didn’t have tanks earlier when they were thrown out of the town by the Canadian attack.  Now they do.  He wonders where HQ managed to scrape them up.  If they’d had them earlier, then they would still be in the damn village.  One of his crew mutters that the tankers will deal with those upstart Canadians.  The panzers roar and 7.5 cm shells launch towards the enemy tanks.
 

The lead tank trundles forward under cover of the following tanks.  Oberstleutnant Fuhrmann is trying to gain a flank shot on the enemy tanks.  He has his driver ease past a small shed, his turret already facing the right direction.  Fuhrmann is confident they will get the first shot off.  As his tank barely clears the shed, Fuhrmann stares in shocked horror down the barrel of one of the enemy tanks.  The tank spouts fire, and the first shell rips into the lower front of his tank.
Smoke instantly fills the interior.  He can hear screaming from the driver and radio man positions.  His gunner is already ripping at the side hatch, self-preservation overtaking any thoughts of return fire. 
Fuhrmann is counting down numbers in his head.  He knows a good tank crew can reload in about 5 seconds.  He yells “Everyone OUT!!!” as he reaches up for the…4…hatch.  The lever swings…3…and he throws his back against the hatch.  The hatch flies…2…open and he is looking up at grey sky that immediately bathes his face with cold rain.  He starts to…1…clamber up into the cold rain and he hears the roar of a tank gun.  He realizes that if he hears the gun, the round is already on the way…his last sight is a boiling roar of red flames…
 

View from the Canadian tank – a catastrophic explosion as the kill shot ignites the enemy tanks ammunition loadout.  There are no survivors.
 

In the space of a mere five minutes, the Canadian tank gunners knock out three German panzers.  This view is from the Canadian held town. 
Funeral pyres of the flaming steel coffins rise into the grey December sky.  Fuhrmann’s tank lies in a crater in the road, caused by the giant explosion.  Schenk sees some badly burned survivors run from the other tanks.  He immediately sends his runner back to Hauptmann Esch to inform him that the initial thrust up the center is being blocked expertly by the Canadians.
 

Hauptmann Esch slams his fist down on the hood of his Kubelwagen.  He didn’t rush the armor in.  He was cautious.  Still, the verdammt Canadians are putting on a show.  His right flank is getting blasted by very accurate artillery fire.  He sends out the orders – Left Flank, GO!
Several remaining panzers veer off to the left flank.  They take a circuitous route, bogging at times, but somehow managing to pull out of the sticky Italian mud.  They arrive in time to support the Landsers who are trying to overwhelm stubborn Canadian resistance.  The cowering ground-pounders find new courage with the arrival of the steel monsters, and they rise up to push through the warehouses on the left flank.
 

Pioniere Unteroffizier Hardenberger leads his squad up the same road as Fuhrmann.  He is confident they can work their way along an embankment, concealing their approach.  As they near the flaming wreck of Fuhrmann’s panzer, 7.5 cm shells and machine gun fire tear into his men.  He screams “VORWÄRTS” and sprints towards the shed that appears to be the only real cover available.  Two more of his men crash through the door and throw themselves on the floor, panting with exertion and adrenaline.  Hardenberger can just see the Sherman tank through a crack in the wall.  How the hell did it see us? he wonders.  “These Canadians are possessed by the Teufel,” he mutters out loud.
 

The unlucky Pioniere caught by the enemy tanks…
Fuhrmann’s tank still burns on the road. 
 

Hauptmann Esch receives reports that the left flank attack has broken through into the town.  He orders his command staff into their Kubelwagen and he heads around the left flank to see the progress.
Hauptmann Erwin Ruckdeschel leads the push into the town from the left flank.  His Mark IV Panzer takes a right turn on the first street and eases slowly towards the town center.  He is careful not to outpace the infantry.  Like all panzer men, he hates fighting in the close confines of any town.  Dead Canadian soldiers lay in the street as a reminder that nothing is safe here.
“Feind Panzer, Eins Uhr!” shouts his gunner.
Ruckdeschel’s eyes immediately snap to the one o’clock position.  His gunner had already pointed the turret in this direction moments before, as the driver slanted the tank at a slight angle to increase their front armor effectiveness.  He sees the barrel drop ever so slightly as his gunner lines up the shot.  He has a very good crew.
Following tanks are covering flanks with HE, and he had his loader keep AP in the breech.  He calls out “115 meters.”  This is knife fighting for panzers.  They are so close.  
Erwin sees the enemy Sherman tank starting to round the corner.  Their turret is already turning in his direction.  He smiles, knowing they will be too late.
“Fire!” he shouts, the roar of the cannon rocking the tank.  Smoke fills the interior and then begins to vent.  “Treffer!” shouts the driver.  Now Erwin can see the explosion.  Flank shot.  It is a kill!
Two more Sherman tanks will try to work around their flaming comrade and will meet the same hideous end, brewing up after taking one or two hits.  Ruckdeschel’s crew is putting on a clinic.
 

A forward MG crew has set up in a blown up gasoline station.  The pumps are still standing but the building is rubble.  They took casualties and one of the crew tries to stem the bleeding of his comrade.
In the distance to the right, another squad of Pioniere are also attending to casualties.  Smoke from the three Shermans brewed up by Ruckdeschel are ahead to the left. 
Ruckdeschel and the crew of a Wespe, commanded by Unteroffizier Thylin, systematically reduce the buildings that are sheltering the two Shermans that blunted the initial attack.  Their handiwork can be seen by the MG team, as a field of rubble that used to be buildings now stretch out before them. 
Stabsfeldwebel von Pannwitz tried to ease his Mark IV Panzer slightly past the bus station to get a flank shot on the enemy tanks.  Again the cursed Canadian tanker somehow was already watching.  Von Pannwitz took a shell in the turret, knocking out his main gun.  Obergefreiter Lorenko is now in command and Ruckdeschel does not know if his friend, von Pannwitz, is dead, dying, or merely wounded.  It tears at him but he keeps his focus on the dangers all around him.
 

There is some confusion now, as the battle grinds to a halt.  The two Canadian tanks at the front of the village are stopping the frontal assault and have now stopped the flank attack too.  They are perfectly placed to interdict any movement towards them from the front or from the side street where Ruckdeschel sits.  And, unfortunately, they are very good at their craft.
Hauptmann Ulrich is given hand signals by Unteroffizier Franz Witt.  They are at the front edge of a vineyard and can see the enemy tanks, maybe 100 meters to their front.  Ulrich sees that Witt wants a smoke screen dropped on the enemy tank position.  If that happens then perhaps the tanks in town can get the drop on them.
Franz has something more daring in mind.  He plans to lead his squad into the smoke for a close assault of the enemy tankers.  The Hauptmann doesn’t get that part of the message.
Ulrich calls in the smoke.  The FO is one of the best, and the smoke rounds start to fall in about 3 minutes.  The smoke is now building all over the enemy tanks.  They will be blind.  The tanks on the flank will now be able to advance and once the smoke dissipates, they will have the drop on the Canadians.
Ulrich sees Witt leap to his feet, and start sprinting towards the wall of smoke.  Witt’s squad instantly rises as one and they pound after their squad leader.
Hardenberger sees the smoke and immediately has the same idea as Witt, even though he has no idea what Witt is planning.  One of Hardenberger’s survivors has at least one satchel charge and they can use that on the blind tanks.  He roars to his two men to charge the tanks.  They leap to their feet and begin the crazy charge towards the wall of smoke and probably certain death.
 

Rolf Schenk and his men see the smoke dropping.  There is a silent Mark IV right next to their position, yet another panzer vexed by the skill of the Canadian tankers and knocked out with a single shot.  All the crew got out of this one though.  In front of the berm protecting his men are two dead soldiers from an earlier attempt to sneak through the vineyard.
They have no idea what is being planned, until Rolf sees Unteroffizier Hardenberger and his two men, greatcoats dark against the backdrop of white smoke, pounding across the wet field from the left, heading right for the smoke.  He catches his breath at the daring attack, and one of his men shouts “Sind Sie verrück?”  This echoes his own thoughts – they must, indeed, be crazy. 
They don’t see Witt and his men off to the right, as the smoke has already obscured their equally mad charge.
 

It is chaos and madness in the smoke.  Hardenberger can barely hear anything from the loud pounding of his blood through his head.  Machine gun fire rips the smoke, as the Canadians fire blindly.  He barely hears the screams of one of his men, and he finds himself running just under the barrel of the enemy Sherman.  He has no idea that Witt’s men are also rushing into the smoke.  Witt himself is crawling towards the misty bulk of the enemy steel monster that lashes out at the host of tormentors that mean to do it harm.
Hardenberger rues the fact that he didn’t take the satchel charge himself, as he is now in the perfect spot to attach it to the enemy tank.  But all he can do is run in the smoke, hoping the enemy tankers focus on him and don’t see his men trying to assault it with the satchel charge.  He now seeks some sort of cover as the tank flails the smoke with its machine guns.
 

Franz Witt’s men are among the two enemy tanks.  There is some slight cover from the rubble of a building and some craters from artillery fire.  The smoke is dissipating way too fast – the rain is settling it too quickly.  Dammit, Witt thinks, they only have seconds to live now.
Witt takes cover in a crater and hurls his grenade.  The man to his left – Max, he thinks but can’t be sure – is about to shove a grenade into the front tracks of the tank.  Karl, off to his right, is about to hurl yet another grenade.  All he can do is hold his breath now.  It occurs to him that maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.
 

Witt’s grenade goes off, a cascade of sparks and smoke lighting up the side of the tank.  Two more grenades are heading for the enemy monster.  It is time for them to get the hell out of this deathtrap.  He screams to his men to run.  The enemy tanks open up with their machine guns.  He hears some of his men scream as they are hit.  Everyone runs like frightened rabbits in every direction to confuse the enemy gunners.
 

Erwin Ruckdeschel sees a Feldwebel in the captured bus station to his right.  The man is waving through an open window, trying to get his attention.  He throws open his hatch and slightly pokes his head up to try and hear the man.  The Feldwebel shouts that Landsers are attacking the two Sherman tanks, running into the smoke screen.  Ruckdeschel had seen the smoke dropping, but in the absence of any instruction, he had remained in his position, covered by the wall of the bus station. 
As the smoke clears fast, the Feldwebel gives Erwin a running blow-by-blow as he describes Witt’s and Hardenberger’s men being cut down by the enemy tanks.  This is too much for Ruckdeschel.
He gives his orders fast.  He has the turret swung to the 2 o’clock position, and he orders his driver to move forward smoothly about 15 meters.  He tells the crew they are going to try and hit the two enemy tanks in the flank, just like von Pannwitz tried earlier, but his crew is going to succeed perfectly.  The men nod quietly and grimly.
“Now!” he orders, and the tank slides smoothly out from cover, gun turret already lined up in the right direction.  A soldier, incapacitated from his wound, lies helplessly in the street as the giant panzer rolls past him, missing him by centimeters.  He can only scream, knowing that no one will hear him over the roar of the panzer engine. 
He stops screaming when he realizes he has not been crushed.  Then new terror fills him.  What if the tank turns?  What if the tank is blown up?  Horrors flood through his mind but he is powerless to do anything.  Mercifully he passes out from blood loss and fear.
Erwin’s gunner has two perfect flank shots, just as predicted by his commander.  The Sherman on the left starts to turn its turret.  That makes the choice for the gunner.
 

The first shot is a hit.  Is it a kill?  No time to judge.  The second Sherman is now trying to turn the turret towards them.  Ruckdeschel lets his gunner turn the turret smoothly to address the 2nd target.
 

The second shot – this is a certain kill.  The second Sherman is torn apart in a massive explosion.  Still no time to breathe or think.  The gunner gently sweeps the turret back to the first Sherman.  They have to be sure.  Moments count.  Seconds tick off.  Erwin is not aware that he has stopped breathing. 
The tank is utter silence, save for the clang of the ejected shell casing on the floor of the tank and the schick of the new round being slammed home into the breech, then the slam of the breech as the shell is rammed into the gun.  The loader cries out that the gun is ready.
Unvented smoke is wafting through the interior and the heavy smell of burnt powder is tickling the back of Ruckdeschel’s throat.
 

The gun roars again, and sparks and flames gush from the 1st target.  It is a kill too!!!  Smoke is already pouring from the burning wreckage of the other Sherman.
“Damn fine job, Comrades, Damn fine job!” shouts Ruckdeschel.  The crewmen smile and bask in their commander’s praise, while still watching the enemy ahead.
 

A figure is seen leaping from the burning tank on the left.  His uniform is blackened and smoking.
 

A second man falls from the Sherman.  Then a third.  All are burned and covered in soot.  They are too far away to see any blood.  Ruckdeschel sees the faces of his men turning towards him, questions on their faces as they wait for orders.
“Let them go,” he says quietly.  “Don’t fire.”  He thinks he sees relief in the faces of his crewmen as they turn back to their stations.  He knows the Canadian tankers have fought with skill and bravery, just men doing a horrible job.  The survivors deserve a chance to escape.
 

With the destruction of the two enemy tanks in their crucial defensive position, the Canadian opposition wanes and they fall back to defensive positions outside of the town.
Oberleutnant’s Gloser’s command squad emerges from the vineyard and joins with Rolf’s MG team.  They are bloody and grim from attending to all the wounded in the vineyard.
Pioniere Harzer, the sole survivor of Hardenberger’s attack in the smoke, finds his squad leader bleeding in a shellhole, wounded as he fled the attack on the enemy tanks.  Harzer still has satchel charges that he didn’t use in the attack, as he faltered at the last minute when they entered the smoke and he found cover to hide.  Hardenberger is bleeding and unconscious.  Harzer shoves the charges under some nearby rubble and attends to dressing his squad leader’s wounds.  No one will know.
Witt and his entire squad are wiped out.  They will never know if they immobilized the one tank in their attack.  The two tanks are destroyed so it wouldn’t matter to anyone but Witt and his survivors if their attack was for nothing.
Witt is badly wounded, as are two others from his squad.  Three are dead and the attending Sanitäter remove identity discs from the fallen while others patch up Witt and move him and the rest of his wounded squad to the rear.
Ruckdeschel knows that the attackers in the smoke played a vital part.  He saw that the two enemy tanks were distracted by the brave Landsers in the smoke.  This was what gave his tank the edge, that and the skill of his crew.  He is so proud of them – the crew can see it in his eyes.    
Rolf Schenk sees a very different skyline of Villa Roggati now.  It is a scene of carnage and destruction.
He shakes his head at the stubborn Canadians.  They fought with skill and honor and they died when overwhelmed.  They have surely given his comrades a bad blooding this day.  He wonders why they didn’t just retreat out of the town.  Why did they stay and die?  Do they owe The Queen and England their lives?
One of his comrades gives the Canadians an off-handed compliment.  “I sure don’t want to come up against these bastards again,” he mutters.  Rolf quietly concurs.

The war goes on.
 
Heinrich505 

MOS,
Great shots.  Man, that one guy in the third shot looked like he got totally F'ed up.  Snapped the left ankle as well as a boatload of shrapnel in the chest.  Yowch!!!
Heinrich505  

////////////////////////////////////////SPOILER ALERT/////////////////////////////////////////////
 
 
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////SPOILER ALERT//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
 
 
 
CONTACT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Merry Christmas Mord.  This is great! 
Heinrich505

Twas the night before CM-mas and all through the bunker
not a 'truppen was stirring they were all down and hunkered
The frags were all hung by the rifles with care
In hopes that Santa Steve soon would be there
The 'truppen a snoring and dreaming away
of the hookers they'd met, on leave last May
When out in the minefield there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bunk, my skivvies all tattered.
Away to the gun sites I flew like a plane,
pulled back the bolt and steadied my aim.
When from mod weary eyes I spied from afar,
Some northern Maine dude with a brain in a jar,
Santa Steve! I shouted with excitement and glee
but in response, just some bitching about TO&E
On Stragglers, on Sicherungs, Luftwaffe and Herr
on Jagers and Gebirs, and others more rare
He droned on and on as the brain kept a coding
and I knew deep inside this was no normal foreboding
For once in a while a reference to Syria
and with that little gem I was sent to hysteria
For amidst all that heavy WWII talking
Toward Shock Force 2 I knew he was walking
Patiently on the desert I'd waited
and soon it'd be real and my lust would be sated
Back to the sand! Nato, Uncons and pals
but with 4.0 flare and friggin' hit decals!
My head filled with war and the toys that it brings
I was hoping I'd see it before G**D*** spring!
Then brain in arm, he turned toward the west
to continue ever onward the Combat Mission quest
Teeth clenched and jaw set against the snowy wind
he trudge into the night, a phantom again
And as he passed by the bunker and out of our zone
I chewed on the annual Christmas bone.
 
Merry Christmas, fellas!

Mord.
 
 

...couldn't...stop...laughing...

I've had so many of these moments.  Quite a few of them became stories that I've posted.  Some of the most vicious close action was in that Stalingrad story I posted.  I tried to catch as many of those moments as I could.  These are the moments that make this family of games so amazing.
One of the most memorable was when I was moving up to take the outskirts of a town.  I can't remember which map it was on, or which battle it was.   But I was attempting to take a rail station with some British lads.  They'd suffered a bit, taken quite a few casualties, and there was a mean feeling among the men.
As they moved to take the rail station, someone stumbled into a minefield.  There were more wounded and killed. 
I moved some of the lads into the station and they were cut down.  Damn!  Where did the gunfire come from?  I eased a scout team around the edge of the building and moments later they were shot down.  My frustration was building as much as my virtual troops.  I could almost hear them cursing.  I tried moving in a small half-squad at slow into the train station and they came under fire immediately, losing more men while breaking and running out of the building.
Then two survivors from one of the mangled squads had enough.  I recall they were veterans - might have been Scots too.    They were bloody well crazy and they'd had enough.
The two ran around the side of the building and came face to face with two German soldiers, one with an MP.  The Germans had been firing through the window into the train station.  My Brits opened fire at point blank range, cutting the two Germans down in a hail of well-aimed rifle fire.  Then, with the two Germans down, they continued to pour rifle fire right into their bodies.  The lads' berserk status was pegged and they emptied their rifles into the two Germans who had tormented so many of their mates.  It was amazing and I watched it over and over again. 
Now, I posted something about it and someone said that it was a game function, something about action spots and seven seconds of AI reaction that had the AI continue to react as ordered for a brief time after things were done.
BAH!!!  I know what I saw.  Those two Brits were after bloody revenge for the death of so many of their friends and they just kept firing their rifles into the lifeless bodies of the enemy until they had to reload.    I still remember that...hmmm, should have written a story on that too.  These games are so amazing!!!
Heinrich505

I've had so many of these moments.  Quite a few of them became stories that I've posted.  Some of the most vicious close action was in that Stalingrad story I posted.  I tried to catch as many of those moments as I could.  These are the moments that make this family of games so amazing.
One of the most memorable was when I was moving up to take the outskirts of a town.  I can't remember which map it was on, or which battle it was.   But I was attempting to take a rail station with some British lads.  They'd suffered a bit, taken quite a few casualties, and there was a mean feeling among the men.
As they moved to take the rail station, someone stumbled into a minefield.  There were more wounded and killed. 
I moved some of the lads into the station and they were cut down.  Damn!  Where did the gunfire come from?  I eased a scout team around the edge of the building and moments later they were shot down.  My frustration was building as much as my virtual troops.  I could almost hear them cursing.  I tried moving in a small half-squad at slow into the train station and they came under fire immediately, losing more men while breaking and running out of the building.
Then two survivors from one of the mangled squads had enough.  I recall they were veterans - might have been Scots too.    They were bloody well crazy and they'd had enough.
The two ran around the side of the building and came face to face with two German soldiers, one with an MP.  The Germans had been firing through the window into the train station.  My Brits opened fire at point blank range, cutting the two Germans down in a hail of well-aimed rifle fire.  Then, with the two Germans down, they continued to pour rifle fire right into their bodies.  The lads' berserk status was pegged and they emptied their rifles into the two Germans who had tormented so many of their mates.  It was amazing and I watched it over and over again. 
Now, I posted something about it and someone said that it was a game function, something about action spots and seven seconds of AI reaction that had the AI continue to react as ordered for a brief time after things were done.
BAH!!!  I know what I saw.  Those two Brits were after bloody revenge for the death of so many of their friends and they just kept firing their rifles into the lifeless bodies of the enemy until they had to reload.    I still remember that...hmmm, should have written a story on that too.  These games are so amazing!!!
Heinrich505

I've had so many of these moments.  Quite a few of them became stories that I've posted.  Some of the most vicious close action was in that Stalingrad story I posted.  I tried to catch as many of those moments as I could.  These are the moments that make this family of games so amazing.
One of the most memorable was when I was moving up to take the outskirts of a town.  I can't remember which map it was on, or which battle it was.   But I was attempting to take a rail station with some British lads.  They'd suffered a bit, taken quite a few casualties, and there was a mean feeling among the men.
As they moved to take the rail station, someone stumbled into a minefield.  There were more wounded and killed. 
I moved some of the lads into the station and they were cut down.  Damn!  Where did the gunfire come from?  I eased a scout team around the edge of the building and moments later they were shot down.  My frustration was building as much as my virtual troops.  I could almost hear them cursing.  I tried moving in a small half-squad at slow into the train station and they came under fire immediately, losing more men while breaking and running out of the building.
Then two survivors from one of the mangled squads had enough.  I recall they were veterans - might have been Scots too.    They were bloody well crazy and they'd had enough.
The two ran around the side of the building and came face to face with two German soldiers, one with an MP.  The Germans had been firing through the window into the train station.  My Brits opened fire at point blank range, cutting the two Germans down in a hail of well-aimed rifle fire.  Then, with the two Germans down, they continued to pour rifle fire right into their bodies.  The lads' berserk status was pegged and they emptied their rifles into the two Germans who had tormented so many of their mates.  It was amazing and I watched it over and over again. 
Now, I posted something about it and someone said that it was a game function, something about action spots and seven seconds of AI reaction that had the AI continue to react as ordered for a brief time after things were done.
BAH!!!  I know what I saw.  Those two Brits were after bloody revenge for the death of so many of their friends and they just kept firing their rifles into the lifeless bodies of the enemy until they had to reload.    I still remember that...hmmm, should have written a story on that too.  These games are so amazing!!!
Heinrich505