The morning fog in Belfast was mixed with the smell of gunpowder.
The advance units of the Third Parachute Brigade were pushing north along the M1 Highway.
The tracks of the "Challenger" tanks rolled over the wet road surface, flinging mud from between the track teeth onto the roadside signs, smearing the words "12 miles to Belfast City Center" into a blurry brown.
There might be shit on it too.
"Stay alert, increase spacing between units to 50 meters."
The voice of Colonel Hawkins, the brigade commander, came through the radio to each vehicle.
Suddenly, a flash of light reflected off the roof of an abandoned textile factory 300 meters ahead.
"RPG!" Gunner Miller's shout hadn't hit the ground when a rocket, with a gray-white trail, had already shot towards them.
"Clang——"
The reactive armor of the tank exploded into a ball of orange-red fire, and the shockwave violently rocked the vehicle. Miller's forehead hit the sight, instantly seeping blood, leaving him dizzy.
