I don't think so. The most recent Russian AT round upgrades are offerings of greater range, and dual-charge warheads meant to defeat reactive armor. The warhead of the 9M127 Khrizantema is designed to punch through a meter or steel armor plate, 39 inches worth. Had an Abrams taken a hit from a Khrizantema's 9M123 missile warhead, we'd most likely be looking at a much nastier result than a neat, pencil-sized hole.
It's more likely wee're looking at either the berrylium copper cavity liner of a self-forging shaped warhead such as is found in such AT rounds as American DPICM *smart munitions.* Since those rounds usually hang via parachute while *deciding* which tank-like target is most suitable, then fire from above into the thinner top deck armor, it would be most likely that such a munition was adapted for a side-profile ground attack. Alternately, a discarding sabot projectile larger than that of an American 25mm but not as large as a full-caliber tank round would be a good suspect; a saboted APFSDS projectile in the 30mm-40mm range. Both the Russians and the British use 30mm autoweapons on their infantry fighting vehicles, and the British 30mm L21 gun was widely used by the British troops in their Warrior tracked vehicles used in Iraq during Operation Telic. It's possible some British APFSDS ammunition was available and adapted to use in some Iraqi weapon.
The recovered penetrator removed from the Abram's armor should tell once it's composition is determined, and we'll then know if it's a one-off improvisation that got lucky, or something to really be worried about. But whatever it is that's being fired at our troops, it's pretty clear that the vehicle to be in when one's fired at you is an Abram's.
-archy-/-
Professional Reading
Personal Account of an ambush - 2 Abrams Tanks Destroyed
Aug 25, 2003,
Lyle's M1A1 Abrams tanks and Bradley fighting vehicles were the lead elements of the roughly 500-vehicle convoy that comprised all of 3rd Squadron, 7th Cavalry Regiment's ground combat power. The squadron was strung for 15 to 25 miles along two-lane roads beside the western bank of the Euphrates River, and a growing dust storm had grounded the Kiowa armed scout helicopters that would usually fly ahead checking for enemy positions.
The road march had begun just outside the town of As Samawah at dusk Monday, and the first three hours passed uneventfully. They were the last peaceful hours the squadron would know for the next 24.
By the time dusk fell Tuesday, the 3/7 - at the tip of the spear pushing toward Baghdad - would lose three M1A1 Abrams tanks, including the first two ever lost to enemy fire.
Lyle's voice announcing the start of the running, 24-hour battle came over the radio at 8:30 p.m. Monday night. About 200 Iraqi troops, dug in a hundred yards back on each side of the road, lit up the night with small arms and machine gun fire. Red tracers arched back and forth as the enemy traded fire with the Cav troops firing back with 7.62mm machine guns on their tanks and Bradleys.
The night reverberated with the banging of Bradley chain guns pouring 25mm high-explosive shells into the Iraqi positions. The American fire was answered with the "whompf whompf whompf" of 82mm Iraqi mortars.
Mortar rounds fell on two U.S. trucks and an RPG tore into a Humvee engine block, the force of the explosion flipping the vehicle and setting it ablaze. Remarkably, all soldiers in the three vehicles escaped injury.
Lt. Col. Terry Ferrell, the squadron commander, called on his six M109A6 Paladin 155mm self-propelled howitzers to fire one round each at the Iraqi positions. The radio crackled with taut voices barking grid references, then six orange fireballs blossomed over the Iraqi positions, the thunderclap of the impact reaching the Cav troops' ears a split-second later.
Even as the enemy fire started to slacken, Ferrell summoned the Air Force to deliver the coup de grace. A pair of A-10 Warthog ground-attack planes showed up on station within minutes, dropping bombs and then strafing the enemy position with 30mm cannon fire that hit with a series of white phosphorescent explosions.
The convoy moved on about 9:30 p.m., leaving the three smoking wrecks in its wake.
The adrenaline was pumping through the veins of the young soldiers in the convoy, who by now had seen more action in one evening than many soldiers see in a career. But for the 3/7 Cav, that was just the start. It would get worse.
Just before midnight, in the streets on the edge of Al Faysaliyph, just west of the Euphrates, the Iraqis struck again. Dozens of militiamen hit the convoy with rocket-propelled grenades and machine guns. The convoy dispersed up side streets, but the leading elements headed for a bridge that seemed to offer an avenue of escape.
The bridge looked like it could handle the cavalry's heavy armor. And indeed it could - until it collapsed under the 70-ton weight of an Abrams tank, the sixth vehicle in the convoy, which plunged into an eight-foot deep gulch. Again, the crew escaped uninjured. Ferrell had no choice but to turn the convoy around and take another path.
In the darkness and confusion inevitable when 500 vehicles try to turn around in the dark on narrow roads while taking sporadic fire, two more tanks rolled into ditches, along with a fuel truck. The squadron's remarkable luck held; the only soldier injured was one man in the truck who broke his hand.
But getting the tanks and truck out of the ditch and back on the road gave Ferrell another headache he didn't need.
He managed to pull the tank that fell through the bridge from the gulley. He also rescued one of the tanks in the ditch, but had to abandon one tank and the fuel truck. Then the squadron retraced its way through town, knocking out RPG gunners and foot soldiers all the way out.
Out of town, the unit continued pushing north toward Baghdad.
For the next couple of hours, the convoy was splattered with intermittent fire until shortly before dawn when, in open country, the leading elements spotted enemy soldiers a thousand yards off both sides of the road, armed with mortars and RPGs.
As the gray light of dawn spread across the sky, red tracers crisscrossed the road and the fight was on in full force yet again. Troopers blasted a small wooden boat ferrying Iraqi troops from the far bank of the Euphrates to 82mm mortar positions on the near bank.
Elements further back in the convoy reported still more contact. With his convoy still strung out for many miles behind him, and all his troops having been in combat almost continuously for 10 hours, Ferrell called in air strikes.
His senior enlisted tactical air controller, Air Force Tech. Sgt. Michael Keehan, went to work. Within minutes, two more A-10s came swinging into action overhead, dropping eight 500-pound bombs and raking the two tree lines with cannon fire.
The bombs exploded with a "whompf-bang!" and cast a pall of black smoke that quickly dissipated. Both tree lines were now burning fiercely, and Keehan wore a look of pride. "It looks like 'Apocalypse Now,' " he said to nearby soldiers.
As it became lighter, the troops could see several buildings among the trees where the bombs and cannon fire had been falling. A man ran from one of the houses waving a white cloth, screaming that his family had been hurt and he needed help.
He was told to bring his family to the road. There, the 3/7 Cav's medical team patched up a four-year-old boy, a pregnant woman and two men, one in his late teens, the other in his 30s. All had shrapnel in their legs.
Dr. (Maj.) Todd Albright predicted a full recovery for all except one of the men, who would probably lose a foot. The family was driven away in an Iraqi ambulance.
Sgt. Todd Grant, a military intelligence NCO, said people he questioned claimed there were no bad guys in the neighborhood and there was no need to shoot.
"But that's wrong, because we were being shot at," Grant said.
Ferrell gave his troops two hours to catch their breath. He estimated that his squadron has killed 150 Iraqi militia troops, not including those killed by the close-air support. So far, he had suffered no casualties of his own.
There was some euphoria among his soldiers, but they had little time to enjoy their victory or their survival.
Another day's march beckoned, and more ambushes lay ahead.
The squadron continued driving north, crossing the Euphrates and working its way up the eastern bank. The three Bradleys and two tanks that had made it across the bridge before it collapsed rejoined the convoy.
A sickly yellow-gray fog filled with fine grit settled over a landscape of marshes and bogs and empty factories. If this were a movie, you would sense that the bad guys were just around the corner. In fact, you might even be critical of the director for making it so obvious.
And this was a case of life imitating bad art because the bad guys really were around the corner - around almost every corner, in fact. The morning and afternoon were a rolling firefight as the column ran a gauntlet of small-arms fire and RPGs. Of the four vehicles in the tactical command post - two Bradley and two Humvees - only one ended the day unmarred by bullets.
At one point, the squadron commander's driver, Pfc. Randall Duke Newcomb, steered the Humvee with one hand and his knees while emptying two magazines of M-16 rounds and two 40mm grenades out the window.
The squadron pulled to a halt near a bridge and saw a destroyed Iraqi missile launcher with body parts scattered about.
They also captured three Iraqi soldiers who were delivering ammunition to the destroyed launcher.
As dusk settled, American military history of sorts was made.
The troops aren't clear exactly how it happened - they think it was an Iraqi truck-mounted anti-tank gun - but something blasted the rear of two Abram tanks, setting them ablaze. As ammunition exploded in the fires, crewmen of Troop B scrambled to safety.
One of the tank drivers was trapped in the tank for several minutes while .50-caliber machine gun rounds cooked off before he could safely crawl free.
According to its maker and military records, those are the first Abrams to ever be destroyed by enemy fire. In the Gulf War, nine were damaged by mines but repaired. None had ever been destroyed. But one crucial streak continues: No crewmember has ever died in an Abrams.
Something - the troops think it was the same anti-tank gun - also blew up a Bradley. Again, all four crewmembers escaped uninjured.
As the squadron settled in for the night, they knew they had been lucky - three tanks, a Bradley and several trucks destroyed, yet no one seriously injured.
But 80 miles ahead lay Baghdad. And between the squadron and Baghdad waited the best troops Saddam Hussein can muster.
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