1
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"Eagle 15, put on Psywar up and make it loud."

2
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It’s the 23rd of February 1991.

3
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"Shall we dance?"

4
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The 2nd Armored Cavalry Regiment charges through the Iraqi border in Operation Desert Storm.

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Amidst the stampede of armor, Captain Herbert Raymond McMaster stands proudly atop his M1A1 Abrams,

6
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leading Eagle Troop into battle.

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After so much waiting, it’s finally showtime.

8
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The column of American tanks drives into enemy territory with no resistance whatsoever,

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defensive positions are being dealt with by other units and the poor Iraqi conscripts surrender en masse.

10
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"Stop showing off"

11
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The 2nd ACR even comes across a group of lone and unarmed Iraqis walking aimlessly across the desert.

12
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"Did they just wave at us?"

13
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The men are surprised as the enemy cheers them on.

14
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They advance and maneuver nearly unimpeded for 2 full days.

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But that won’t last forever.

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Somewhere out there to the east the Tawakalna Republican Guard lies in wait,

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a much more loyal unit that will not surrender so easily.

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The 2nd ACR are tasked with hunting them down.

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The men awake the following day to miserable weather.

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A sandstorm has rolled in overnight greatly reducing visibility.

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"Holy shit, what beautiful weather!

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Skog, wanna go outside?"

23
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"I'm good, thanks"

24
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"All right, how are the Eagles doing?

25
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Anyone?"

26
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"Waiting for orders, sir"

27
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"What’s the plan?"

28
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“Ok, here it is, gentlemen. In a moment we will receive permission to carry the attack forward.”

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We push to the 70 Easting."

30
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"Only six miles?"

31
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"Yep, and don't engage. We find the enemy,

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we step aside and allow the 1st Infantry Division and 3rd Armored Division behind us to take them on.

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Should be easy, but you know anything can happen.

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Stand by for orders. Out."

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His men don’t have to be told twice;

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the entire troop is itching for action.

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And sure enough, the go-ahead promptly arrives.

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“Battle Stations. Battle Stations. This is Black 6.

39
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The word has been given. Red 1, execute.”

40
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“Roger 6, executing now.”

41
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"I feel the need, the need for speed."

42
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‘Matt, you know that's 5 dollars in the drink box for any film quotes."

43
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"Oh c’mon, I love the smell of napalm in the morning."

44
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‘That’s 10!’

45
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The engines roar and whirl to life, and six M2 Bradleys from the 1st Platoon drive past the line of Abrams,

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taking their positions at the front

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as the entirety of the 2nd ACR moves through the sandstorm in a miles-long formation.

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Pushing into the unknown.

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McMaster hunkers down, observing the battlefield with his thermal sight, but nothing appears.

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Suddenly there are loud explosions up ahead.

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McMaster and the rest of his men sweep the area with their binoculars and thermals.

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There are no contacts, but they quickly find the source.

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Its airburst artillery exploding in the air and raining shrapnel all across the ground.

54
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McMaster doesn’t need to say anything,

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all on their own, the Bradleys and Abrams break the line to drive around the area of impact.

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A sense of pride fills McMaster, his boys are acting exactly as they’ve been trained.

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The artillery is evaded and the line reforms as they push on.

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It’s not long before something else catches his eye.

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Figures emerge through the haze.

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Buildings.

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McMaster narrows his eyes, thinking.

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This village looks off, there is no farm, pen, or any type of infrastructure to sustain a home.

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This, he thinks, must be an Iraqi outpost.

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"Village, direct front! One round HEAT at my command.

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The loader slams a High Explosive Anti Tank shell into the breach.

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The “anti-tank” component won’t be of much use.

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"Up!"

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But the explosives are exactly what they need.

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"Ready? Report!"

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The tank’s massive 120mm gun aims square at the structures.

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But McMaster doesn’t fire just yet.

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He waits as his line gets closer, looking for civilians.

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Up and down the line the rest of the tanks prepare to level the position,

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but still they wait, for they see no evidence that the buildings belong to anyone at all.

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Suddenly muzzle flashes shine from the windows

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and low caliber bullets start raining down on the armored vehicles.

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"Fire! Fire!"

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McMaster’s Abrams opens fire with a thunderous explosion.

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The round flies through the air, its aim impeccable.

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It hits the wall and detonates, reducing the building to rubble.

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The impact marks the target for the 8 other battle tanks, and their guns aim at the same construction.

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"Ready!

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Fire!"

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The 9 Abrams fire almost in unison with a deafening blast.

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In an instant the buildings explode into a cloud of rubble and dust,

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violently silencing the small arms fire.

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Meanwhile, on the very edge of their formation, Bradleys Eagle 13 and 16 spot two Iraqi T-72s sitting in ambush

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with their thermal viewfinders.

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"Do we engage?"

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Chills travel down the spine of the vehicle commanders.

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"Why are they still?"

92
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"I don't think they see us."

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Had the sandstorm not been covering their advance, they are unlikely to have won this showdown.

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But as it is the enemy’s lack of thermals keeps them blind in the storm,

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while the Bradleys can see them crystal clear.

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The Bradley’s turret spins to face the enemy,

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a pair of TOW anti-tank missiles at the ready.

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The missile fires off its launcher, pulling a spool of wire along with it.

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From inside the gunner keeps his crosshairs on the enemy tank,

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the computer guiding the missile through the wire and keeping it flying straight on the crosshair.

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From the sight it looks like licks of flame hanging in the air for a few fleeting moments.

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The T-72 detonates with force as its turret flies sky-high.

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The second Bradley fires off a second missile aimed for the remaining enemy.

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The Iraqi crew barely reacted to the destruction of their companion

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when they meet the same fate.

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“The turret of this T-72 came off and was flipping like a bottle cap in the air,

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and when it landed, the whole thing burst into flames.

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I remember thinking, holy, how can a piece of metal burn like that?”

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"Eagle 13, reporting contact"

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The troop resumes the advance, leaving behind T-72 wrecks and the obliterated buildings.

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"2 enemy tanks on the left flank. Targets eliminated."

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McMaster knows these two tanks couldn’t be alone

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and senses that they’re about to find exactly who they are looking for.

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“Red 1, this is Black 6.

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Swapping to tank-lead.

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I repeat.

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Changing to tank-lead”

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The Bradleys slow to a stop and allow the better armored Abrams tanks to go first.

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They form into an arrow formation, with McMaster proudly leading in the middle.

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They reach their target of the 70th Easting,

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but McMaster has a small crest up ahead blocking their view.

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"Stay behind"

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In flat terrain like this even small crests are crucial for visibility,

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so without orders he pushes on just a little more.

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His Abrams climbs the hill and rolls over the top of the crest.

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Looking through his thermal sight, he watches as dozens of heat signatures come into view all at once.

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They instantly meet a wall of dug in armor, trenches, and anti-tank weapons

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all facing their advance.

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“Tanks! Direct Front!”

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Are you ready for battle?

131
00:08:20,120 --> 00:08:23,360
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00:08:23,400 --> 00:08:27,440
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"Tanks! Direct front!"

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It is a horrifying sight.

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The plan of not engaging the enemy has gone straight out the window.

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“Fire! Fire SABOT!”

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“HEAT are already loaded”

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The crosshairs immediately land on a T-72 1.4 kilometers away,

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and the Abrams fires the first shot of Battle of 73 Easting.

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But to McMaster’s surprise, the giant line of Iraqi defense does not immediately retaliate.

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In the storm the Iraqi tanks are completely blind and have no idea about the multiple Abrams

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actively rolling over their defensive embankment just a few hundred meters away.

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They scramble to respond, crews running for their tanks,

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diving into trenches, and fleeing to the rear.

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It's chaos.

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"Load SABOT!"

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"Up!"

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"Fire!"

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The armour-piercing fin-stabilized discarding sabot round fires off the Abrams’ barrel,

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Please support the channel, comment, like, and subscribe on this video.

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releasing a massive depleted uranium dart traveling at 1,575 meters every second.

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It slams square on the enemy and it bursts into flames,

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cutting through the armor like butter and setting it aflame.

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McMaster continues to roll forward as the rest of his troop appears behind him.

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Abrams tanks open fire indiscriminately as the T-72s start to fight back.

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Rounds crash into the earth and zip over the Americans' heads.

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McMaster’s driver, Christopher “Skog” Hedenskog,

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watches nervously out the periscope as he drives towards the enemy.

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He sees a muzzle flash from the front right

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and a split second later a round slams into the earth right next to their fender.

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McMaster’s men see the strike and fear he’s been hit,

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“Black 6! Black 6! Are you hit?”

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“Black 6! Black 6!”

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But then Skog spots a second T-72 emerging into the sights of their Abrams.

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"Hold on!"

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He turns hard to the left, throwing off everyone in the turret.

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They gather themselves and resume their positions,

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"Sir, are you okay?"

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McMaster takes a second longer, he's hit his head on the edge of the cupola,

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completely missing the radio transmission calling for him.

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“Black 6, do you copy?”

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With their leader in silence and seemingly having taken a second enemy round,

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a desperate Red 1 takes the initiative.

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“This is Red 1; Black 6 is down;

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I'm taking over. Follow my lead.”

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Listening to this on the radio, Skog calls for his commander.

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“Sir! Get up on the net, Red 1 just took over.”

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McMaster realizes what is happening and he's quick to clear up the confusion.

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“This is Black 6, we’re alive! I’m retaking command.”

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Meanwhile, outside is a flurry of sand, smoke, and fire.

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Enemy rounds keep missing the Abrams as they charge through the desert.

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On the Iraqi side everything is in pure chaos.

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The Abrams roll past the shell-shocked Iraqis,

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firing round after round into the enemy armor.

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The Bradleys behind fire their cannons at trenches and infantry,

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struggling to distinguish between legitimate threats and defeated enemies.

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Driver Matt Lee follows his unit under fire when a person appears in front of him.

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Lee slams on the accelerator and steers towards him.

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The Bradley barrels towards the soldier at speed.

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The Iraqi is completely disoriented from the darkness of the storm and smoke of the battlefield,

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unaware as his body rapidly fills Lee’s thermal imager…

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The speeding Bradley roars by inches from the enemy.

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Lee made a split-second decision and decided that this enemy was not a threat.

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Elsewhere in the battle the advancing line of Bradleys are suddenly met with a column of tracers.

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The bright bullets ricochet everywhere and two Bradleys focus on the source.

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A ZSU 23-4 "Shilka" anti-aircraft gun inside a bunker.

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They slow to a halt and the first anti-tank missile rockets off its launcher, zipping across the battlefield.

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The anti-armor warhead detonates into the bunker, collapsing it.

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A second anti-tank missile flies in moments after, slamming into the ZSU and setting it alight.

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Across the line, the Bradley crews operate with incredible bravery.

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The missiles cannot be fired on the move, so Bradleys have to stop under fire to engage enemy armor.

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Eagle 31 comes to a halt while staring down the barrel of a reloading T-72.

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The American gunner fires off his missile and strikes the Iraqi tank, exploding it into a ball of flame,

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fractions of a second before it can do the same to the Bradley's crew.

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Meanwhile, another Bradley, Eagle 36, have used up their pair of anti-tank missiles

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and are still stuck in the middle of heavy fighting.

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They need more if they’re to have a chance against the dozens of T-72s still somewhere out there in the dark.

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"Tribble, give me some TOWs"

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"On it!"

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Scout Michael Tribble takes the missile tubes stowed in the rear

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and opens up the roof hatch to reload them,

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but the launcher is out of reach.

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“Can you give me the turret on 5950?”

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The turret needed to be rotated to 5950 mils to be able to reload from the hatch,

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but Tribble hears the response:

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“Negative! We’re stuck like this!”

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The commander can't place the Bradley in a reloading position,

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they need the gun and armor facing the enemy.

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If Tribble is going to reload, he’s going to have to go outside and do it.

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Tribble rushes out from safety.

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He can hear the hiss of rifle bullets zipping across the air,

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a few striking the Bradley’s armor with loud clangs.

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But Tribble ignores it all,

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He discards the old tubes and casings and begins mounting the new ones.

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He hears the crack of bullets narrowly missing him,

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but he keeps his nerve at a time where a slip up is the difference between life and death.

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The missiles are reloaded and Tribble returns to the machine shouting

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"Done! Go! Go!"

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With that the roof hatch closes up, once more protecting Tribble from the chaos outside.

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The Bradley, again, lurches to life, charging for combat.

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Back at the front the battlefield gradually calms down.

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Bradleys still fire their cannons amidst a flurry of small arms fire,

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clearing out trenches and destroying equipment as the platoon drives through the wrecks of the enemy.

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McMaster’s Executive Officer comes up on the radio reminding him

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that 70 Easting was the limit of advance and they are way past it.

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“I can't stop, we're still in contact.

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Tell headquarters I'm sorry.”

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He cuts the transmission and returns to the task at hand.

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They’ve broken through their lines, but there has to be reserves somewhere in this storm.

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It doesn’t take long for them to find them.

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"I see them"

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He spots a group of enemy tanks with his thermal sights

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17 of them all in a circle.

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They’ve attacked so fast the reserves haven’t even had time to get out of their parking spots.

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McMaster orders all of the troop’s Abrams to bear.

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"Ready? Report!"

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They creep up on the enemy.

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He can clearly see an Iraqi tank commander standing on his hatch.

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The commander hears the Abrams and looks over his shoulder,

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with an expression of utter horror on his face.

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"Fire!"

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In a flash the strength of Eagle Troop is unleashed at the stationary targets.

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In just a minute all 17 of the T-72 tanks are reduced to scrap.

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"Target destroyed.

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The Bradleys in the rear continued to destroy enemy equipment and ammunition stashes,

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but the battle was effectively over.

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Anxiously, McMaster got on the radio to ask one question he feared the answer to.

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"How many casualties?"

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"No casualties to report."

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They hadn’t just won;

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they had crushed them.

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In just 23 minutes this scouting force that wasn’t even meant to engage the enemy

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had destroyed 50 T-72s, 25 armored personnel carriers, 40 trucks, and a multitude of other vehicles,

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of the Tawakalna Republican Guard without losing a single man or vehicle.

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McMaster would be awarded the Silver Star for his actions.

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He's still alive today.

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And we hope he watches and likes our video.

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00:18:02,720 --> 00:18:06,080
Get into the battle now for free by clicking the link in the description.

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00:18:06,080 --> 00:18:11,000
You'll receive a large bonus pack including multiple premium vehicles, a premium account and much more.

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00:18:11,360 --> 00:18:12,720
Play War Thunder today.