Smoke was a wall of foggy grey in front of the self propelled gun, the crew were working on switching on their EW warfare systems. If they were stuck static they would fire up and try to jam the ability to get a lock on or modify to prevent the enemy from setting off an IED etc. 

“Im gonna check the 30 mike mike” the commander called out and he climbed atop the guns hull with a spanner to give the auto cannon a knock as it was firing a short delay from the command system. He hit the gun a few times to knock the motor to be better aligned and to get the system working. It was an ancient act old as machines, the rights of percussive maintenance and used the ancient tools that were solid metal bars shaped into useful forms. “Count” he shouted down as he climbed up the internal ladder. 

“65%. Box will last long as we get cover boss” was returned loudly over his short range comms and ears at the same time even though the crew's ear protection. Electronic versions that would protect you from the noise of a massive main gun but let you talk. Handy, they had not been cheap and they liked ears that did not hurt.

“You fucking ass, appreciate it.” Anakain shouted as the tank rolled alongside with a grinning soldier holding food, really… He took it with good nature and laughed at the sheer stupidity of the act. “It had to be sand related damn it Marcus.” The two had worked together before and the jokes had not stopped even if the most stupid of times. He gave him an easy salute as he dropped back down and slammed the heavy hatch atop the self propelled gun's hull clad in thick rubber to absorb drone strike and soak light damage or prevent ricochets. 

“Where the hell do you get uber eats in Iran” Came Xena calling out with a shake of her head as she waited for order to load shells and took a break where the breaks were to drink some water from a metal bottle that clanged tied to the hulls plating. 

“From our help Xena, we might be moving if Marcus can clear the way.” He said with a more relaxed tone distracted by a meal as he had to hold his nerve and trust others to clear a path where they could not. 

“Good, save some pop tarts for me,” Nord said as they sat up front in the driver's spot, her small window letting them see outside at the falling smoke beyond them between Ironhide and the enemy. 

“Steady down, we still have to get past the defences before snack time.” The Commander sobered as he calmed things down eating his admittedly decent snack.

“Aye boss,” Nord replied as they waited on the throttle. 

…

“Thermals, commander anti tank team, hill side.” Came the alert as the 30mm sent line shots but they fell short as the team got cover behind an area of earth in distance that must have been pre planned. 

“Locked, ready.” Came the Canadians' response, “HE, got a shot.” He added rapidly turning the main guns ballistic computers to the task with the range finders and guns swung into place with a fast movement that was smooth, barrel and turret moving in tandem. 

“Marcus, keep your head down. AT team, scrub, 350m, north north west. Firing.” Came over the groups circuit. With a few seconds warning 2 155mm passed low over the top the tank with a sound like a freight train passing before they slammed into the hillside sending a large plume of dust and fire up where the anti tank team where. If they missed them they certainly had a massive shock and headaches.