I'm like so not sure that proper respect is being paid to the quality of WWII tank engines. Like dig this: one time I was like, hanging in Russia, and like we were in this totally Russian car ripping along through and over all manner of pothole small and large. It was this experience that so like taught me why they are called potholes; as we were like smashing around, man, inside this tin can with doors, I could feel a total bummer of reality imposing itself into my previously cool state of mind. It was like bringing me down, Doodes. It was as though my life support system, which was of Jamaican origin, was being forced out of my system and into the holes in the road. You get my drift, I'm sure.
Anyway, we're flying down the road like a bunch of Mexican jumping beans in a can being shaken by one of those paint can mixing vibrating machines and this Russian guy sitting next to me like turns to me and asks if American-made cars could withstand Russian roads. I laughed and said of course. And I knew I was lying.
Turns out this fellow was a WWII tank engine designer. We ended up, after some Cheech and Chong sized doobies going over some of the design features of these engines. Soviet engine engineers, sometimes referred to as Doodes, knew that people were like so going to be pushing high-velocity metal and explosives through their engines, much like their latter-day auto designers knew that Russian roads are a bit spotty on flat parts.
The most important part of a Soviet tank engine is that they employ pseudo pistons. This isn't to imply that their pistons aren't real, my main Doodes, but it does mean that a piston is not always a piston. If a piston receives severe damage (or rings, cylinder wall, etc.) it has the ability to re-purpose itself and either seal off its own cylinder/head area so that dangerous leakage does not occur. This includes being able to re-route water and oil flow paths as needed.
In early testing, as gasoline version of these technologies was hit with a 150 cm round. Nothing was left but a distributer cap, and though the engine did cough a bit, it continued to run almost as well as new, providing no less than 87% of the original torque to the drives shafts as when new. Bit of a disappointment there, as the spec called for 88%, but like who's counting?
Late in the war all of these feats of engineering, physics, and even some flat out tomfoolery were rendered unnecessary with the development of the Soviet Tank Engine Multiphasic Nowyouseeitnowyoudon't technology. This tech allowed the engine to be 3% out of phase with reality. You can't shoot what ain't there, Doodes. This was made possible by the Multiphasic Reality Couplers which connect the out-of-phase engine with the in-phase tank. Fuel lines, radiator pipes, oil cooler lines, engine mounts, all Multiphasically joined to reality via the 2 dimensional couplers. Hit a coupler and you can so like totally destroy the engine, fer sher. As you know, it's just stupid to think that someone could make a gun round that can shoot 2 dimensional objects, so the engines were now completely safe.
Later improvements included bringing in fuel from transdimensional fuel tanks located in underground bunkers, so Soviet tanks had unlimited range at that point. The same technology was applied to food delivery, waste removal, ammo delivery and brass return/recycling, oil and water delivery/changing, etc.
These tanks could stay out longer than a modern nuclear sub, and cost a heck of a lot less.
Bob Boberson got a reaction from Artkin in 88 thru motor- not immobilized!
