Alright, this time, for real, this story is up. I was informed by Generalfeldmarschall that, contrary to what I believed, Michael Wittmann had died in a Tiger I, not II.
A second part to this story is planned if successful, so tell me if you'd like to see it. Also, it's nearly impossible to find any quotes by or even about Wittmann.
The Black Baron's Panzer
"He was a fighter in every way, he lived and breathed action."
-SS-Obergruppenfuhrer Josef "Sepp" Dietrich, after Wittmann's death
I am considered famous by many people across the world, even today. The very sight of me still inspires fear in my enemies, and awe in those who fought with me. I still fight with the vigor that I had so long ago, and every time, I still come out victorious.
But, even so, I am not as respected as I was when I first fought, so many decades. I do not feel that same camaraderie now that I felt when with my fellow comrades. And, every day, I feel the loss of those who entrusted their lives to me, and I my life to them.
I came off the assembly line in April of 1944, one of the first of my kind. I received turret designation 007. I was designed by the engineers to rule the field of battle and annihilate anything that I would come across. And so I would.
After being tested and observed, I was assigned to the SS Schwere-Panzer Abteilung 101 in France. I never had to ask why I was fighting; I was made to fight, and I had no reason to question it.
In July of 1944, I became instantly famous. Not because of anything I had done yet, no. I had won the lottery of a lifetime; a young SS tankman by the name of Michael Wittmann and his crew were taking the place of the scientists and engineers.
As time wore on and this crew and I fought together through fierce battles, we came to depend on each other and trust each other. Throughout the Battle of Caen, we together destroyed tens of tanks and anti-tank cannons with ease, staving off the advancing enemy until our orders to retreat came.
As we departed the town, I remember that someone, possibly Wittmann himself, said "If it weren't for this panzer, I doubt we would be alive." His crew agreed and it was then that I think that we all began fully trusting each other.
The next month, the crew of Tïger 007 found itself again stuck in the thick of the fighting, this time in the Battle of Saint-Aignan de Cramesnil, more commonly called Operation Totalise by the Tommies.
It was early on the morning of 8 August when the orders to mobilise were shouted and the air-raid siren started winding up. As Wittmann and his men jumped in, I started up willingly and we began to roll down the road. Only minutes later, as we hid beneath the canopy of the nearby forest, a chorus of explosions shook the earth as an airstrike hit the panzer depot. As everyone in the company took a pause, a runner came up to us, handing a small piece of paper to Wittmann.
"Our orders are to move out to Cintheaux and defend the town from Allied attacks." I said as I finished reading the paper, handing it back to the messenger. He saluted and I returned it, freeing him to return from where he had come.
"It seems Tommy has brought in almost an entire brigade of armor to fight us! Let's move!" I ordered to the battlegroup. Ducking back into the turret of the Tiger, I looked to Heinrich, who was steadily shifting the driving sticks back and forth. "How long will it take?"
"Fifteen minutes, give or take."
"Good." I responded, standing back up. The wind rushed past my face as the column of Tigers, 14 in all, rattled down the road. Second Kompanie was out in force. Pressing the radio button on my neck and opening up communications, I said "All units: When we reach Cintheaux, myself, Captain Jäger, and Captain Schwarzkopf will break off and enter the town. Second Platoon will also enter Cintheaux, while First and Third will flank to the northeast and assist our forces in repelling the attack."
The men replied appropriately as we created the last ridge, revealing the town of Cintheaux. It was already half-destroyed; why High Command wanted it, I had no idea. But, orders were orders, and those were mine.
"Split off. Good luck men." I said as we began moving again. In a bout of generosity I decided, "When we get back, I'll buy a round at the tavern."
Overwhelming thanks came through the radio set as Tiger 007 picked up speed. "There's over a hundred men in Second Company." Karl said through the radio. "You want some help covering that bill?"
I smiled quietly. "That wouldn't make me very good at keeping my word, would it? Thank you for the offer, though."
"Anytime, sir."
"Third and Fifth Squads have met up with the defensive force to the northwest, sir." Rudi commented as he pressed the radio to his ears. "Second reports no contacts and they have set up positions near the church to our west."
I nodded as I stayed low, watching for danger. "Report our position and orientation. I feel the enemy is up on that hill still."
"Affirmative!"
"You really think they're still there?" Heinrich said as we came to a stop, the other two Tigers fanning out on our flanks. Up ahead, a ridgeline overlooked the town, covered in trees. "The Allies have to be waiting for something. Let's catch them off guard."
"Yes sir!"
Slowly, we started moving forward again. I was confident in my crew and myself; with two more experienced crews and their fellow Tigers, we would be unstoppable.
As my fellow tanks moved with me, I suddenly heard a familiar ping, followed by a whizzing sound. Just behind it came the boom of a Tommy 17-pounder.
"Enemy fire!" Wittmann cried as he took shelter within my turret. My resolve strengthening, we pushed forward, shots bouncing harmlessly off my frontal hull armor as we closed in on the enemy positions.
Suddenly, another boom, from a different angle, sounded as my brother in the lead suddenly stopped, his engine bursting into flames. Only Captain Jäger made it out, but he quickly put himself out of his misery with his sidearm, his corpse burning brilliantly.
Now, angered by the fall of our comrades, we pushed forward relentlessly, refusing to stop for anyone. I heard Wittmann give the order, "Fire at will!".
Over and over, I fired shot after shot, seeing no noticeable damage. During this time, Captain Schwarzkopf's Tiger was knocked out, with similar results. It was at this time that us six, the survivors, realised it was time to retreat.
Slowly, very slowly, Heinrich led me backward up the slope of the hill we'd charged down. Enemy shells continued to bounce off my front as I put every ounce of effort into my engine, burning the fuel as hot as I could.
Then, suddenly, I felt something rip into my engine deck, and all went black.
'Mien gott.'
Hans watched in utter belief as he watched the commander's Tiger erupt in an inferno. The turret with the infamous 007 spun twice in the air before landing upright on the ground, facing away from the hull. Flames shot out from the hole it had left as the ammunition cooked off, sending streams of colored fire into the air.
"Hans…was that…?"
The commander of Tiger 213 nodded imperceptibly as the rest of the crew opened their hatches and took in the sight; three Tiger Is sat burning in the middle of a field. Tiger 213 was almost in range of them, about to assist the commander in his escape. Only 200 or so metres separated Hans' tank and the wreck of Wittmann's.
The idea that Michael Wittmann, the most renown ace of Germany's panzer divisions, was dead was hard to believe. The quiet man was one of the best soldiers that Hans had ever known, a more-than-capable commander, and willing to give mercy to his enemies, unlike some other notorious Waffen SS leaders.
"Call it in to the rest of the company." Hans said. "Check on the situation around town and report on it." The men solemnly complied, not saying anything in response.
As Tiger 213 turned and retreated into the safety of Cintheaux, Hans watched as the Black Baron's panzer disappeared from view.
"Gott sei mit dir, Wittmann."
"Is this it?"
The former crew of the 'Piccadilly Lily' looked to their commander, who was surveying the area. "I'm sure of it." he said, recognising the view of Cintheaux from here. "Let's go find them."
The five men that crewed the Sherman VC1 'Firefly' went downhill and started looking through the tall grass. They were bound and determined to find the wreck of that missing Tiger Royale and her crew, wherever it was.
Finally, after almost an hour of combing the rather uninteresting grass field, the gunner yelled out something unintelligible. The other four converged on him to find half a Tiger I, burnt out and very much destroyed. The turret was some ways off, and in between the two was a single crude cross, along with relatively freshly-turned earth.
"Must be them." the old commander said. "Come on. Let's get these boys to the Kraut cemetery."
"What about that?" The radio operator jerked his thumb back to the hull of the tank.
"Later." the commander replied. "These lads are more important." With a nod, the five tankers began to dig up the graves of their former enemies as birds flew overhead, singing praise and reveling in the peace of 1946.
Alright, there's part one for you! Tell me what you think.
And please, folks, remember: Just because these guys were SS doesn't make them bad people. So, in a way, please respectfully remember the crew of Tiger 007 and all armored crewmen of WWII.
SS-Haupsturmfuhrer Michael Wittmann (30 years old)
Gunner/Observer: SS-Unterscharfuhrer Karl Wagner (24 years old)
Loader: SS-Sturmmann Gunther Weber (20 years old)
Driver: SS-Unterscharfuhrer Henrich Reimers (20 years old)
Radio Operator: SS-Sturmmann Rudolf 'Rudi' Hirschel (20 years old)