Firestorm: Red Thunder

The boys were gussied up and hankerin' for a tussle. I heard reports of a Ruskie formation mulling on the other side of the town and ordered the boys forward along the road before settlin' down behind the backyard of some Kraut corner store. Being so hungry that we could eat the north end of a south bound polecat the boys and I went rummaging for vittles. Wouldn't you know it, but we that metallic sound in our ears was the sound a platoon of t-55's coming right towards our idling tanks!

The first rounds started plinkin' off the hull like the sound of a young'uns 22 rifle right as we buttoned up. The boys quickly creamed Drago's corn shortly thereafter.

I tell you what, that Commie Commander must only have one oar in the water because he sent another 5 T-55's towards the Boy's and I. The situation ended as you'd expect it would.

The Cossaks finally made things interesting and send some real armor into the fray. 5 T72s rumbled onto a hill, but their shots sailed overhead. Accurate American return fire cut through the enemy like a hot knife through butter. Seeing the situation hopeless the remains of the Commie force ran away faster then a scalded haint.

The town played a critical roll in blocking enough lines of sight. Red Igor's reinforcements coming in platoon by platoon allowed the outnumbered Abrams to prevent mass flanking actions. Lastly, an overly resilient VAD AA platoon prevented mass destruction by Hinds.

4-3 American victory. Soviet concede.