magine a young American GI on the front in Europe in late September 1944. The leaves are starting to change and there's a chill in the air. There's a chill on the ground, too. His regiment had faced scant resistance as it worked its way eastward the past few weeks; now the enemy is starting to put up a fight. Coming warily down a hill toward a small meadow, the men in the squad feel a faint tremor in the ground. No one can ever forget his first artillery barrage; all our young GI can do is mutter “Here we go again.”
The shaking grows stronger and the men look at each other in confusion. The ground is trembling, but there is no sound of artillery. Then they hear the clamor of heavy machinery growing ever louder. They all think the same thing: Tiger. The sight of a Tiger tank is unforgettable—a 60-ton monster twice as big as a Sherman and 10 times more frightening.
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