Well, this is my first post here, and I don’t think I’ll get over feeling like I’m intruding on Ratbat’s site, anyway, this is my story (more like a book) that I’ve been working on for a while. If anyone has been following any of my previous comments or found my story on my Tumblr page then you already know what its about, for those who don’t the story’s set in 1944 in the middle of WWII and is in the viewpoint of a German King Tiger tank crew, specifically the tank commander, and the tank. It follows them on their adventures they face and encompasses some comedy, love, firefights, friendships, and yes, sex. I hope the story doesn’t crash anything, Word says it’s about 62 pages in it’s entirety, something that still amazes me in I’d a never thought I would ever compile something this long, and its still going! A thanks goes to Ratbat for letting me post here, well enough of my yapping, here’s my story. Enjoy.
Chapter 1
“Dear: Mother, Father, And Sister Gretel,” Hansel wrote; “To answer your question on how my first battle as Panzerkommandant faired, I only have one remark: I fear the Communist more than the Americans! My reason is the American tanks are ill-equipped to combat the most modern and advanced Panzers the Fatherland has to offer, their only strength, as I have seen so far, is the vast quantity they can employ against our inferior numbers…” Hansel’s mind drifted as he wrote his letter home. He couldn’t help but think about the poor souls trapped in their “Tommy Cookers,” who died moments after being penetrated by a German high-caliber round. How heartbreaking it must be for their families back home, their sons and brothers and fathers dying in a foreign land, never able to attend a funeral, or burial ceremony. He thought of his family then, his father served in the “First Great War,” then after the service, his father met his mother in a pub in Munich, his mother was a bartender and they began seeing each other, they both had common interests as jokers and comedians, as well as a love for old literature, hence their first child being named Gretel, Hansel’s older sister, and their second child named Hansel. Comedy runs in the family, and as children growing up in the 30s, Hansel and Gretel were immersed in propaganda and their parents’ comedy. Hansel’s mind wondered about, until he finally ended his letter. “To satisfy your thirst for my progress, I have claimed seven kills in only the time of an hour and twenty minutes. Farewell for now, I must attend to some maintenance.”
“-Love, Hansel”
As Hansel closed the note and gently applied the address label over the seam, he was called for. “Hey Sell,” Sell was a nickname for Hansel, he made most of his money as a child as an errand boy and a marketer, selling anything he found interesting at the weekly market. He grew to be more proficient at the task, and would sell things to his bunkmates in boot camp, hell he even sold stuff to his officer! He could sell salt water to a sea sailor; Hansel took a step out of his tent and was greeted by Inbred the gunner, a lanky, average height, white-blonde hair brushed back with a scruffy look to it, he’s got scars all on his back and his broad shoulders so broad, a wooden crate wishes its corners where that square. Inbred was whipped as a child, whipped by an ox that is, the ox wore a harness for the plow to be mounted on, and they tried plowing during the ox mating season, when the ox got rambunctious, and started bucking while inbred was in the pen, the ox threw the child’s chest against the wall, and the hardened leather straps whipped him, until his pa shot the ox. He was used to hard work, being that his great-grandparents where from Alabama and that he’s an American-redneck descendant, but Inbred was scared to the point he doesn’t work with most large animals anymore.
“It’s that damned radiator again, Meats says it won’t flow.”
“Again? I just fixed that last week, is Meats sure?”
“He’s positive- hey Sell, I’m pretty sure I’ve already asked this before, but, why do you always work the tank? Isn’t Meats the field mechanic?”
“Yes, Meats is the designated field mechanic, but I love machines, I used to fly crop-dusters, once, but I’m passionate for ground machinery, you know I built my first car right?”
“No, but that doesn’t help my understanding-“
“I feel at home, when I’m working on the tank, or anything, I feel a- a special connection between me and machinery, and I trust Meat to do a good job, but it doesn’t feel right for me to operate a vehicle I haven’t checked or worked on. Now do you understand?”
“Yes sir, I understand completely… So do you ever dream of-“
“DAMN RADIATOR!”
A large, hefty, robust man squatted aft of the King Tiger’s turned turret, his hands digging into an access hatch opening, the curses he rambles on echoes in the engine compartment, making his deep cello voice even more god-like. He stood up when he heard Hansel’s call; it’s a miracle how he fits in the tank: 5’11”, 280lbs, bulky broad shoulders, a chiseled chin, jaw, and brow with a bald head, his arms look like he could punch through a brick house with one swing, bold defining pecks assist that, strong legs apparent as his pants bulge at the calf and thighs and this is only displaced by a beer-belly. This is one of the rare times Meats gets to work on the Tiger, about 65% of the time Hansel does the work, and is typically overseeing the 35% he doesn’t do the work. “Hey Captain, have you come to oversee? Or are you “relieving” me of shift?”
“I’m doing both, Meats, I’ll oversee your progress then make some changes, I honestly think there’s more we can do to the radiator, so we don’t have to fix the junk later.”
“Good idea, Sir, Whacker’s on the radio right now. He might be able to radio-”
“The local girls,” Said an echoing voice. “I can do that right now, it’ll only take a second.” Whacker climbed out of the hull machine gunner/radio operator’s hatch and made his way to the antenna. Whacker was a little short for his age, 32, being only 5’5½”, and a little rounded, he has every other quality of a stereotypical Irishman- strong upper body strength under the flab, an excellent drinker, bright red hair, a thick mustache, chiseled cheekbones, and thick sideburns. He always wears pilot’s cap on, he wanted to be a pilot but he was too short for his want-to-be role, he could fix anything regarding radios and electricity, his step-father was an electrician, his father died in the “First Great War,” ironically killed by British tanks, he grew up in the inner-city, surrounded by poverty and crime and groups trying to seize political power, and isn’t interested in going back. He has a masturbation problem, hence nickname number 1, nickname number 2 is Whackaholic, and he also has a drinking problem. When he gets to the antenna, Whacker starts messing with it to receive a better signal.
“Gah lemme fix this up-”
“No, Whacker,” interrupted by Meats, “Radio command and inform them of radiator problems and that we are in control of the situation working on repairs now. Right, Cap?”
“Hold off on that, Whacker I want you to look for the nearest town, we might be able to find some better materials than what we’ve got. Then tell me of our options, after that we’ll inform command about where we are and the situation.”
“You’re the boss. Got it! Hey, Captain Sell, want me to wake Banker? He does have the map and he isn’t doing anything.”
“So what is he doing?” Inquired Inbred, “he’s sleeping again isn’t he? I’ll go wake him up!”
“Oh boy, Inbred really has the peeve of lazy workers; let’s see what he does this time shall we?” Hansel commented, they all gathered around as Inbred grabbed the toolbox, marched to the driver’s hatch, and flings it open.
“WAKE UP YOU SPOILED SCHEIßE KOPF!” Inbred then dumps the toolbox contents through the hatch, waking Banker, who then freaks out, along with releasing cries of pain barely louder than the noise all the tools striking the metal components and flooring.
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THE BIG ASS IDEA!?” Banker jumps out of the tank and confronts Inbred, who is a lot smaller and the youngest, about the action. They start to quarrel, and then limbs swing, and Banker loses. As always. Inbred gathers up the tools as Banker retrieves the map. Once everyone has settled, Whacker reports a town with a steel mill 50 Km east, Banker confirms. Banker is the second youngest; only 21 years old, with Inbred close behind at 19, but is the most immature. He acquired his nickname by ranting on about how his family owns a bank and how one day he would uphold the family tradition and take over the business; he never really stops talking, ever. He’s average height with blonde hair, blue eyes, white-as-silk skin, to sum it up he looks like the Aryan man you’d see on a Nazi poster, and absolutely HATES being called Aryan; he is not a strong supporter of the Nazis, but applauds the accomplishments and improvements they made to Germany in its darkest hours. With everything organized and agreed on, the crew packs up the tents, and set out on the journey east.
“Don’t go any higher than fifth gear, we don’t want the engine overheating, we didn’t fix the radiator yet, alright Banker?”
“Rodger that, commander”
Fin Chapter 1
Chapter 2
After about 100 minutes, the crew arrived at an occupied French town whose name none of them knew how to pronounce. They bartered with some locals for a place to house the King Tiger for repairs, and another residence for them, the residence was abandoned but clean. The downside was there were only four beds; someone was going to pitch a tent or sleep in the Tiger’s barn or the Tiger itself. After a lengthy debate after Hansel said they could have the beds, proving the argument that unveiled right after his announcement unproductive, they all decided that the 6’2” officer was to sleep outside/Tiger house/Tiger. Indeed, Hansel is the tallest of the crew, being 6’2”, 225 lbs, and only 24 years old. Damn. Hansel didn’t mind, he loved the Tiger, it gives him confidence, it makes anyone who stands next to it insignificant in comparison. It’s just so big: 10’ tall, 39’ long, 12¼’ wide, really anything on land that moves is insignificant to it.
Every time Hansel closes and locks the commander’s hatch on it, he feels invulnerable, powerful, destructive, feared, but most importantly, he feels a unique connection- stronger than any of his other greatest accomplishments, his old crop-dusting job, his schoolwork, his top rating in gunnery and leadership at boot camp, even the car he built by hand doesn’t compare to this feeling. He values this tank more than all previously stated achievements. Sometimes, at night, Hansel will come out to the tank and lay on the turret roof, just thinking, pondering ideas, he even sometimes talks to the tank like the tank’s a being. He’s never loved a girl, never had a girlfriend, completely virgin to loving another person like that.
Tonight, though, he thinks of the question Inbred was going to ask before he was cut off. Hansel thinks of all the questions that someone like Inbred might ask; Inbred is very curious and inquiring, so there’s a range of things he could ask.
“Let’s see,” he said,
“He was asking: “do you ever dream of: _______?” hmmm,” this troubled Hansel.
“Do you ever dream of: flying again, no, no, he’s asked me that before,” Hansel thought deeper into the mind of Inbred:
“Do you ever dream of the war ending? Yes? Is that it? Nah that isn’t it…”
Hansel came up with question after question, but Hansel doesn’t really dream at all, he only dreams about one thing…
“Hmmmfff, he said: So do you ever dream of-“
“Tanks?” a feminine voice said. Hansel flipped shit. In a moment’s notice he undid the latch on his Walther P.38 holster pouch, and whipped out the pistol, safety off, in the blink of an eye.
“THIS IS A PROHIBITED AREA! PRESENT YOURSELF IMMIDIATELY!” He shouted, adrenaline pumping, heart racing, he was always protective of his tank, even more suspicious now that the Allies where in Europe, he didn’t want a spy or freedom fighter messing with his prized possession.
“Calm down it’s only us-”
“WHO?! I DON’T RECOGNIZE YOUR VOICE!”
“Well, first off stop yelling you’ll attract the locals, and second you’re on my head, Hansel,”
When Hansel realized that there was only one human in the barn, he got… excited. On quite a few occasions, Hansel would be talking to the Tiger tank, wishing that it would talk, unaware that it could, and understood him. He slid off the turret roof onto the driver’s hatch and turned around to meet eyes to left-side-eye, and was completely flabbergasted to see a large beautiful brown eye meeting his excited/on-edge gaze with a comforting one.
“Hello, Hansel”
Hansel noticed movement just below the gun mantle; he looks to see and is met by a wide grin across the frontal turret plate. He was star stuck, for about 5 minutes he couldn’t even talk. This made the Tiger giggle a little, once he could talk:
“So uh, how long have you been able to…?” Hansel gestured to her face, indicating talk and make facial expressions.
“Ever since I rolled off the line in May, 1944; so about a month.”
“So you heard me all those times?”
“Yes, you’re very interesting.” Said the Tiger; making Hansel blush.
“You’re also very protective and thoughtful of me. I think you’re sweet.” This made Hansel blush more, and become frustrated, why hadn’t she said anything before? Why now?
“Why haven’t you told me before? Why now? And does anyone else know this?”
“I’m very shy, I was afraid you would transfer, and now because of all the things you say to me, all the events led up to me wanting to come out to you, I feel like I can trust you. I could have said it sooner but we were never alone together like we are now. No, you’re the only one I can trust right now, none of the crew knows.”
Hansel felt relieved, he felt like there was something behind his connection to the tank. Wait, he thought, she knows my name, and does she have a name?
“Hey, um, so do you have a name?”
“If you’re referring to a distinct name, like I know you by, no, no I don’t have a name.” Hansel felt sad, his crews’ got nicknames, but none of them, except Whacker, thought of a name for the tank.
“So how about-”
“I will NOT be named “Ladies’ Joyride”! NO WAY am I accepting that!”
“WHY would you think I’d propose that? We all shot that down IMMEDIALTY.”
“Well I was just letting you know, honestly I almost revealed myself that time, but you four ended that right there for me.”
“You’re welcome. AH, good old Whacker, I was going to say… mmmmmm Marion maybe?”
“I like that; I can live with it.”
“So it’ll be Marion?”
“Marion.”
“Okay, nice to meet you; Marion.”
“Oh, Hansel, one thing?”
“Yes Marion?”
“Please don’t tell the other guys, I don’t want them to know, ESPECIALLY Whacker! I don’t want him getting ideas.”
“I’ll keep it secret, Marion, and one question: How did you hide your eyes and mouth from us?”
“OH! I have a cover that slides over my eyes, I can see out, you can’t see in, same with my mouth. To answer your next question of “Where can I sleep?” You can sleep under my chest. You’re sitting on top of it right now.”
“Alright, thanks Marion… So under your chest that’s the ground beneath your lower glacis plate, correct?”
“Correct. Sleep tight Hansel; see you in the morning,”
She then closed her eyes, and fell asleep. Hansel unrolled a cot kit, removed the legs and slid under the tank’s “chest” and fell fast asleep. While he dosed off, he answered Inbred’s question. “Yes, Inbred, I do dream of a certain tank…”
Fin Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Hansel woke early the next morning, as he sits up, unaware of his surroundings, he knocks his head against Marion, who greets him a good morning. He instantly hits the cot again, rubs his head, and replies as he rolls out. “Ah, god that hurt, good morning to you too, Marion,” he walks around, to regain his bearings, “So you want to chat for a while or should I go wake the crew and repair your radiator?”
“Actually, Hansel, I faked the radiator to get you alone, I remembered passing this place on our way out and I knew you’d try to get to a safe place to perform any repairs.”
“Well, you were right on that. Now how am I supposed to explain that to the crew?”
“Just say you repaired me last night, you were worried and you couldn’t help but fix it. You do it all the time.”
“True, excuse me; I have to go take a leak.”
“Hansel, don’t forget your letter home. There might be a station out there.”
Hansel had completely forgotten, what with the events yesterday, and pulled the note out of the jacket pocket, and stepped outside to relieve himself and to find a mailing station. After finishing up with a local tree, he headed to the town, where he found a mail station to deposit his letter. Hansel then meanders around town searching for a place to get a meal.
“Looking for something dear?” Asked a stout elderly woman; “I could probably point you in the right direction.”
“Thank you ma’am, I’m looking for a place where I could get a meal, is that is possible?”
What he was really looking for was a kitchen he could use, with maybe some cooking materials, Meats got his nickname not because of his size, that helped but he got his name because of being the best damn meat chef in the whole battalion. Meats could turn a nine day old dead raccoon into a five star dinner better than actual five star dinners.
“Oh, I’m sorry sweetie, but we don’t have any of those anymore, the old one is down Charmayne Street, on the left.”
“Thank you very much, ma’am, that’s all I needed.”
Hansel waved a farewell to the woman, and headed down to Charmayne Street. Hmmm, if Marion could control an individual component of herself, could she work on her own? This idea and many similar ones drifted throughout his mind again and again. If it is possible, could we train where she could defend herself if we the crew were incapacitated or not in the picture? If we’re being called upon by an officer, could she ward off saboteurs on her own? He thought, and thought, and thought. Hansel realized that all the controlling herself questions he asked had to do with protecting her, from dangers he can’t be there to protect her from alone…
“OH GOD!” He stopped in his tracks, almost eating the dirt, “oh god, I think I’m in love, with Marion, a King Tiger tank, a machine!”
This realization made Hansel feel conflicted in his gut, the willingness to accept it, to finally love someone, someone who can respond, communicate, maybe even love too, he thought. Then he had the other side, denying that it’ll work, she’s an almighty TANK, you’re just a crewman to her, weak, incompatible even, and maybe even just a card and she’s using you, stupid! Hansel got to the point where he might throw up, so he started talking to himself:
“No, she’s not using me, and I might not love her, this is just a stronger bond. Maybe this is love, god how am I going to tell my family? Does she even have reproductive organs? I’ve been underneath her lots while working on the suspension and I never saw any groves like an opening, only access panels bolted to the hull. SHIT how did my life come to this?!”
He sat at the curb, head buried in his knees, just muttering to himself…
Marion heard movement outside; she closed off her eyes and mouth in case it wasn’t Hansel. The door finally opened and in stepped Whacker, “Hello, Captain? You around? I’ll just be on the radio,” Nothing different, Marion thought, Whacker will set up and get on the radio every morning, he’s not a bad guy, he gets on and listens to command and battle reports on enemy movement. Something that probably saved us twenty times, she thought. She let Whacker do his radio thing while she focused on other subjects, like Hansel… She never felt anything like this feeling towards him than anyone/thing else, she felt good, no, perfect, with Hansel around her, she knew that if this was indeed love, and he felt it too, that they would be able to copulate, she has the necessary “organs” to satisfy this need, knowing all too well human male reproductive anatomy, thanks to the man in the passenger seat: Whacker!
“OH SHIT THIS IS BAD” Speaking of the devil- thought Marion,
“THE ALLIES ARE 30 KILOMETERS AWAY!” FUCK-FUCK- FUCK-FUCK!
Whacker jumped out of the tank, and ran screaming at the top of his lungs for the others to wake up and get their asses to the tank. HANSEL!? She looked over to see Hansel, with a what-the-hell-are-you-screaming-for face looking at Whacker, who “calmly” tells of what he just heard on the radio; Marion doesn’t care what’ll happen afterwards, starting up her engine for maximum effective time to get the hell out. No one questions it while scrambling into the tank, commands being spoken, updates, the “Yes I fixed the radiator last night and DO YOU THINK I GIVE A SHIT IF YOU DIDN’T DO ANY WORK!?!” Banker pulls out of the barn, and makes a B-line to the nearest hills east, in a desperate attempt to hold off the first wave.
Fin Chapter 3
Chapter 4
The group raced toward the hill about a half-kilometer away, Marion knew she couldn’t out run the American tanks; she could only carry her 70 ton ass at 40 km/h on a good road, although she is 2 km/h faster than the other Tiger IIs, thanks to modifications that Hansel and Meats made. However on the dirt and mud, about 35-37 km/h, uphill at a 30-40° incline; 31 max. She wasn’t overly fond of her mobility, still confident in herself, though, proud of her 88mm Kwk 43 gun that could tear right through any American armored vehicle-two or three if they’re lined up right-and can sit far back and pick them off where they couldn’t reach her if they tried. Anytime she had to get dirty, she was safe knowing that her 150mm frontal hull armor sloped at 50° and side armor of 100mm at 30° was impenetrable for the 75mm HE guns the Americans sport; as for her turret: 180mm front, 80mm at 30° sides and rear, she was fine. She only feared their numbers overwhelming her and disabling her where her crew would be forced to leave the safety of her hide, and be killed. That was her only fear.
Halfway up the selected hill, Hansel spotted some movement and small gray smoke trails and plumes about a kilometer or two from the town. “I see something, about a kilometer-and-a-half from the town traveling along the main dirt road running Northeast-East,” Hansel zooms the binoculars all the way max power to get a better look at the objects. “I confirm five American tanks, two half-tracks, a truck-no-two trucks, and an open MG car, in the column order of: tank-halftrack-tank-tank-truck-car-halftrack-tank-truck, copy?” The crew sounds off to affirm that they heard that a column of whoop-ass was headed for them indirectly.
“Alright where’re we going, commander?” Banker asks as they reach the peak of the hill.
“Head for the trees and hedge groves at 9:45 put our 12 facing the town. Meats, load up some HEAT, lets scare these fools off and then we’ll get out before more arrive.”
The crew follows the orders to the letter. Meats opens the breech, picks up the heavy-ass round and fist loads the round in the gun in under 5 seconds, thanks to his strength and hand-not-really-needed-eye coordination along with practice. The crew prepare for battle, going over drills and routines, Hansel sits down and closes and locks the commander’s copula hatch, Inbred checks gun/turret hydraulics used to turn turret and raise/lower the gun, Meats checks that his hatch is locked, gun safety is off and the breech is closed and locked properly while Whacker and Banker checks hatch locks and Whacker loads the hull MG42 7.62mm and checks the radio.
“Don’t fire until I say, Inbred, and aim for the lead tank, then hit the car,” Hansel instructed Inbred. Hitting a Sherman tank is no problem, at a half-kilometer a Sherman is a decent size, and the sights on German guns were spot on, now imagine hitting a Jeep from that far; doable with practice, yes-but what about when it’s moving? “Fire now Inbred!” A shot rang out instantly; if the crew wasn’t wearing ear protection they’d probably be deaf for a time, as the shot sped at the Sherman at about 982 m/s (3,220 f /s), Meats loaded up another round, replacing the spent shell with a new round in under 8 seconds-“Gun ready”-sounded to Inbred that he was ready to fire, and unleashed the beast on a small Jeep, nailing it in the passenger seat, obliterating it where it stood. “Fire at will, Inbred!”
Inbred continued to dish out shot after shot at the column racing for the protection of the town, each shell striking the mark, and tearing the target to pieces. This one-sided battle continued on for 10 minutes, the Americans dodging from cover to cover in the town trying to spot the Tiger raining hell on them, the Tiger tank trying to dislodge them from cover and send them back from whence they came. One Sherman tank caught sight of the Tiger, and attempted a shot; the tank pulled into the street from an adjacent side road, took aim and fired, to be met by an explosive end as its hit with no chance of survival. That one dared shot flew through the air, and hit Marion in her left cheek; the pointed part of the side turret that curves like a flat-ended oval, and exploded on contact, being for anti-infantry and light-skinned vehicles. Marion bit her lip and resisted to yelp in pain, as it felt like a bee sting. The Americans finally pulled out, with only one tank and halftrack, and both trucks riddled with shrapnel. The crew erupted in cheer, only for a moment until they realized the death and horror they caused- four tanks with crews of five, a halftrack that can carry twelve men, a Jeep with two poor soldiers, and an unknown amount of foot soldiers killed by shrapnel; not to mention any townsfolk who were unlucky. The Americans only fired once, opposed to 14 from their foes.
“Poor bastards never had a chance.” Commented Meats
“Alas, that’s war now, where men aren’t equal in ability anymore-no longer relying on wits, experience, skills, or even training-but on quantity, and maybe quality, of the instruments of war one possesses.” Added Whacker, it’s a shame he’s right.
“We didn’t even take damage, did we?” Inquired Inbred; with a cocky tone.
“No, we were hit, I’m amazed you didn’t hear it Inbred. From the sound it made, it sounded right next to your head.” Hansel knew they’d been hit, he was familiar with the sound all well, a misfire in live-fire training struck Hansel’s tank when he was the gunner, and scared him half to death. It bounced with only a dent on the turret.
“So that metal-ripping and tearing sound is what it’s like to get hit?”
“Correct, Inbred, now Banker; get us the hell out of here!”
“Don’t have to tell me twice-” Banker starts rambling on about who-knows-what.
Hansel takes a piece of chalk out of his pocket and tallies four slashes under “TANK” marked on the wall to his left, one under “1/2TRACK”, and one under “TRUCK”, bringing the total kill count to nine tanks, one halftrack, and one truck (Jeep). He still needs to paint the kill stripes on Marion’s barrel. He also needs to repaint the shot mark on her cheek, or maybe she wanted to keep it as a battle trophy, he didn’t know, he’ll have to ask her. I wonder if it hurt. If Marion even feels pain. He started to think about Marion, after a while he was brought back to grips with the crew when he overheard one of the conversations rambling on.
“I doubt you have a pinup girl as your girlfriend, Banker.” Responded Inbred to an unknown comment to Hansel.
“Hey Sell, do you have a girl at home?” Banker questioned.
“No, I don’t have a girlfriend and…uh… I’ve never had one either-” Banker, Inbred, and Whacker started denying that, Hansel was pretty good looking, actually, and the three had a problem believing the truth Hansel told them.
Hmmm, I can change that, Hansel… Marion thought.
Fin Chapter 4
Chapter 5
The group traveled for 2-3 hours before their stomachs demanded food and forced the crew to stop and ration out some meals. Banker brings up that the fuel tanks are half-full with the reserves added. So the crew check the map, try figuring out where they are, and eventually finds out that there’s a German camp just over the hill they were hiding near, and felt pretty stupid. They then proceed to ride in on the Tiger, not entering the tank (except Banker who drove) with all the hatches opened to air out the insides. Once the greetings where over and done with, they asked where the rest of their unit was, only to learn that they were one of only a handful that escaped the rapid advancement of the Allies, but there were still no reuniting with any company mates as they were so far-spread. Therefore, Hansel inquired whether he could get his Tiger tank re-fueled and rearmed; he was given clearance, and instructed to put his tank in the camouflaged tank house #7 where the supplies would be unloaded in an hour.
“Marion, do you ever wonder why the tank houses look exactly like enclosed mini-plane hangars?”
“All the time, that’s number seven right there.”
Hansel maneuvered the goliath vehicle into a structure with maybe a 4ft clearance above the tank. The tank house looked like a food can buried halfway sideways into the ground with hanger doors erected at either end, then painted green and brown with hints of yellow and foliage strung all on top of it to finish it off. Hansel and Marion talked for about 45 minutes and Hansel ate some supper, when they heard a heavy truck pull up and numerous German voices, Marion closed off all living appearances while Hansel went to unlock the door and let the deliverymen in, Hansel asked that the mobile fuel pumps and pods be left next to the rear right fuel tank, and the ammunition near the left. “I just want to be sure that everything is done right, no offense just paranoia,” when he really just wanted to talk to Marion more, who would only talk when alone with Hansel. The men left and Hansel closed and locked the door as per regulation.
“So Marion,” Hansel started as he fueled her, “how’d it feel when you were hit by the American tank?”
“That stung like a bitch,” Marion snapped, “come look at this, it looks disgusting!”
A long mechanical tentacle with appendages that looked like a hand appeared out from underneath Marion’s hull and touched the spot.
“Well you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you Marion?” Hansel said, a little uneasy as one of the smaller ones without a hand approached him.
“Oh, these are my hands and arms, and some are just arms. See?” Marion was letting Hansel admire the tentacle about a foot from his face. He lifted a hand and touched it; it responded instantly and jerked back. “They’re quite sensitive and your hands are freezing!”
Hansel moved to the left side and examined the mark; it was midway up the turret and had blown away paint in an elliptical fashion, stretched from right in front of where Hansel sat in the cupola to maybe 5-6” towards the center of the turret at about 4½” tall, and it wasn’t a clean wipe. The blast had torn up some of the anti-magnetic paint, and left black/brown scorch marks on her, the entire spot was like burnt scrambled eggs, just a ragged ugly mess. Hansel checked on the fuel, which had just about finished, and proceeded to grab a paint kit and supplies. He then started sanding and stripping paint on and around the blemish, so he would get a base to apply the paint properly and make it look good, that’s when he found out he had no paint for her Normandy camouflage, and instead prepped the gun barrel for the kill count stripes.
“So, Hansel how many kills do we have?”
“We have 11 tanks, 1 halftrack, and 1 truck, but I’m only counting the tank kills for the stripes.”
“While on the topic of numbers…”
“Go on, Marion,”
“Have you really never had a girlfriend before? Or did you just say that to get off the subject?”
“What I said was 100% truthful; I’ve never had a girlfriend.”
“Well,” Marion continued, with a sly grin; “we could date…”
Hansel joined in on the fun, they “joked” about dating, and how it would work as Hansel loaded ammunition letting the paint kill stripes dry. They went on to discussing how they’d probably need to inform the others. They thought about Whacker’s possible reaction; how hilarious!
“So Marion, let’s say this is our first date; what do we do?”
“Well Hansel… we ate; you and your food and me and my fuel, you dressed me up pretty; cleaning my wound and painting my guns, we’re at a, quote-unquote hotel, so we could…”
“We could what?” Hansel asked, he wasn’t picking up on her ‘breadcrumbs’.
“You know Hansel, something not typically done on the first date; we have known each other for quite some time…”
Marion continues on and on, Hansel still doesn’t quite understand, but Marion knew he was starting to think sexual, that he wanted her, and she wanted him so she got as close to saying ‘sex’ without using the word ‘sex’:
“We could do it, Hansel,” Marion finally said. Hansel’s lust for her skyrocketed, and she sensed it.
“Yes, but, but, how would it work? I mean,” Hansel’s mind is craving sex, he is ready, but scared. “What if I don’t have the correct-”
“Oh you do Hansel.”
“How do you-”
“Whacker.” Hansel curses and blesses Whacker as he gives in and starts to undress himself, he is then enveloped in Marion’s arms, one strokes his hair, knocking off his deflated officer’s cap, some untie his shoes, rub his skin, unlatch his belt and buttons on the pants, and yank them down to the floor as he steps toward her. He is completely undressed by the time he reaches Marion who thinks wow, he’s shaven everywhere, Whacker wasn’t, why is Hansel shaven? She tells him where he’ll find it: on the underside of the hull, about four feet center from the base of the rear armor plate. As Hansel is crawling into position, with Marion’s arms wrapping around his body, he thinks Wait, what if I’m too small?! This thought frightened him, with reason; proportionally, her opening should be huge compared to Hansel himself, though Hansel is larger than average in size of packaging, even that wouldn’t be enough. He was relieved when he felt it, though he couldn’t see it he could feel it with his cock, he slid down and was actually surprised that it had to be only about human size, and the teasing made Marion shutter; she has been wanting this for a long time…
Hansel slid up again, to properly place himself for Marion, who started to gently caress his testicles in one of her hands, Hansel then slid his erected penis into Marion, who let a muffled moan and another shutter out, slowly he pushed deeper inside her. Hansel was breath-taken, the feeling was astonishing, she wasn’t a machine at all, she was tight, and very soft and soaked, she was also pretty warm, even though the placement of her vagina is practically rubbing the heavy engine, and she wasn’t blistering hot or freezing, not even cold, like the engine that hasn’t run in maybe two hours, he couldn’t describe how it felt. He continued on and reached a plush ceiling just as he was completely pressed against Marion, his whole length was inside her, reaching the ceiling initially made Marion tense up, and moan and breathe harder and more sporadically. Nowhere to go but down, Hansel gently eased out, but not all the way for he was 4 inches in when completely on the floor, he repeated slowly for 2 or 3 repetitions, picking up the pace afterwards, this made Marion cry out in amusement and joy, she then rapidly became tighter, and tighter, and quiver more along with the moans and heavy breaths. Hansel theorized, and was proven right when Marion came, Hansel chuckled: “I thought that guys always came first;” Marion blushed and felt a little embarrassed, she assured Hansel that she had the endurance to go again, so Hansel pushed on, evoking more pleasure for Marion. Her orgasm left Hansel’s crotch soaked with liquids Hansel didn’t care at all to recognize, only making her pussy slicker, and reset for another go, this time she lasted longer than before, Hansel continued on, until at maybe what Hansel figured was 90% into his journey, Marion’s shaking became more violent, her vagina was tightened tighter than last, her engine roared at full RPMs, her gun coiled back, her face clenched up and the forward half of her suspension gave out causing her chest hit the floor.
“Fuck me my Panzerkommandant! Fuck me my Hansel! FUCK ME MY LOVE!” Marion exclaimed.
“YES MY LOVE!” Hansel eagerly replied gritting his teeth, as he had reached his climax and was resisting letting it happen just yet.
They released at the same time, allowing a loud and drawn out sigh of a satisfying and exhausting fuck from the both of them, Marion came stronger than her first, and drenched Hansel from knees to chest in the mixture of lubes and oils. Marion stroked Hansel’s cheek, and played with his hair, too exhausted to move, Hansel decided to sleep there for the night, somewhat spooning with Marion, whose vagina was gently pulsating around Hansel’s stiff cock. The doors were still locked as is protocol and nobody would have heard them through the walls and doors, nobody even knew, and knowing nobody will check on them in the night, Hansel and Marion slipped into blissful sleep, the best sleep either of them has ever had.
Fin Chapter 5
Chapter 6
When Hansel awoke the next morning, he knew he had to tell the others about Marion and him. He climbs out from under Marion, who righted her suspension in the night and turned her turret to the left, and confirms his previous suspicion that she could control her body, for her gun was completely depressed down. She’s still asleep, completely relaxed, Hansel thought; why else would she let her gun drop? Hansel moves on and starts dressing himself, he leans up against Marion to put on his boots; as he does so, Marion wakes up peacefully, and kisses Hansel on the back of the head.
“Oh that wasn’t a real kiss!” Hansel remarks as he turns to face Marion’s smug face, they embrace in a long kiss. Hansel notes that Marion tastes like a mixture of steel, grease, oil, water, and something else; something welcoming and pleasant. Marion experiences a similar feeling; a mixture of tastes, and a warm, hearth-like feeling. When they withdraw from each other, Hansel can’t resist asking: “How did that just happen?” Marion only had about 3-5” of space between the turret base and the mantle overhang, so Hansel was trying to figure out how Marion’s mouth worked.
“Well, my mouth actually goes under the mantle, if you were to look at me level. It’s about- mmmmmm, halfway from the bottom of my chin to the gun brace, where my gun and mantle actually connects to me. When I talk my chin actually flattens, like a mattress, it doesn’t swing like yours.”
“That explains that to me, but how have I not encountered your parts while I was working underneath you? I’ve worked on the suspension probably 20 times and I never noticed an indication of a vagina.”
“That is the same as my mouth and eyes, it’s covered by an armor plate that slides open, and sinks into a slot; so it’s flat and smooth in either position, and sensitive in both, you have no idea how many times you’ve fondled me while working down there.”
Hansel chuckled; he always wondered why it’d start getting hot and leaky down there. Hansel focused, he told Marion he thinks they should tell the others, Marion disapproves; she’s still concerned and shy. Hansel brings up points on why; such as how she’s been listening to them forever, they are probably going to like a talking/interacting tank, Whacker will stop it inside her, how they just FUCKED, and some other minor points. Stubborn like an ass, Marion holds tight and provides a counter example:
“Hansel what if they lose trust in you for not telling them immediately? What if they lose faith in you? What if they are scared because of me? I’m a talking, living, tank who has been listening to them for their whole deployment and doesn’t even tell them or hint to them their vehicle is alive; wouldn’t you think they’d lose confidence and trust?”
Hansel slowly nods in agreement, but then retaliates, “Then it’ll only get worse until they figure it out themselves, Marion, it’ll be better if we inform them now. I’m not going to back down. I will tell them, they need to know, after all, they’re the only family we’ve really got right now,” Marion can’t change his mind, she decides that she’ll swallow her fear and talk to them. They agree to meet here, after morning meals, with the crew. Hansel goes off to the showers first, he reeks of Marion. Which isn’t that bad of a smell, Hansel thought.
After the shower, Hansel goes to the mess tent, and gets some breakfast rations. He’s taking a bite into this damned hardtack bread when the group walks in. They seem to always be in pairs, Hansel noticed, they did seem to always hangout like school children, in groups, usually Whacker and Meats that walk in first, followed by the youngest two: Inbred and Banker, who are always arguing over something Banker says. Today, it was French Toast, more specifically, what makes French Toast French Toast. Once the group sat down around Hansel, they started the usual morning conversation; how’d you sleep, any dreams, what are we doing, stuff like that, once Hansel had finished his breakfast, he told the crew to meet at tank house #7 for an important briefing and to keep it secret. They all complied.
“Alright, they should be here soon, Marion,” Marion’s eyes were darting around; she was biting her lower ‘lip’, indicating that she was nervous. “Don’t worry, Marion, it’ll all be fine, they’ll understand,” Hansel continues to assure Marion things will be alright to comfort her for a few minutes until the door was knocked on. Hansel checks the viewport and spots Whacker’s eyes 3 inches from his peering into his soul, “We’re sorry, Miss, for eating part of your candy house, all we wanted was some food,” Whacker jests total child-pouty face. Whacker could make a great comic, Hansel thought before relying in his witch voice: “It’s alright dears, come on inside, lunch is ready, E-HE-HE-HE-HE-HEEE!” Hansel loves himself sometimes.
Hansel opens the door and lets the ‘children’, retaining his witch voice until he closes the door and locks it again, and then he goes back to his real voice. No one noticed the beady eyes darting around or the stretched quivering lower lip being bitten on the tank turret.
“So Cap’n Sell, what’s the brief about?” Inbred questioned
“Well… it’s about Marion.” Answered Hansel; trying to figure out how to convey his thoughts.
“Who the hell is Marion?” Banker sounded loudly, “Ohhh! Captain was lying about a girl!”
“Well at the time I was telling the truth but-”
“You went chasing skirt didn’t you? Waytago Sell!” Banker interrupted, frustrating Hansel.
“NO! STOP!” Banker ceased immediately, “The girl is what I want to talk about, if you would all turn around, you’d meet Marion.” The bunch turned around and met Marion, who was shaking, and making the crew uneasy.
“Why is the tank shaking?” Meats said concerned.
“Ah, this is Marion, she’s my girlfriend.” Hansel piped.
“The witch is crazy,” Whacker said dully, “Although I do wonder how the witch got a 100 ton tank to shake like and alarm clock…”
“I’M ONLY 70!” Marion shouted defending herself, making everybody but Inbred jump.
“WHAT *gasp* THE HELL!” Whacker exclaimed, catching his breath.
“Well Marion, no turning back now, time to talk.” Hansel says, Marion looks at the bunch that all but two are confused, one not confused being Hansel obviously, but then Inbred wasn’t confused, more confident looking instead- standing tall, large smirk, calm composure and arms crossed.
“Why aren’t you startled?” Marion interrogates Inbred.
“Why because I already knew-”
“How? How did you know?” Hansel asks sternly and concerned.
“I’m not stupid, I know how to solve a puzzle with the clues,” Inbred goes on, “I first noticed when Whacker brought up a name for her, I noticed the sides of the turret above the gunner’s wall clench after he said that, like brows. I also wondered why the tank’s radiator was acting up; I took a look at it, perfect, no problems. Then when the tank was running yesterday, Banker was taking a shit when Whacker runs over screaming, and I know he doesn’t know how to start up the engine. Then clue 4, I didn’t take the first shot yesterday… (At this point Marion is blushing) in fact I wasn’t even sighted in on the tank! The next is when we were hit, I did hear it Hansel, but I also heard something else-a little yelp-a feminine one, too. Lastly, I was walking by last night…” He stops there, at the last clue Hansel starts blushing. “But what I don’t know is how long.”
“I’ve been hearing you guys since day one, inside and out, I was always there.” Marion comes out, this acknowledgement makes Whacker’s face turn white, and look horrified and stunned, as he then starts walking towards the door, “Bye witch, I’m gonna go home now and puke up all the candy I just ate…” is all he utters, he gets out the door and just keeps walking, and walking, and walking.
“Sorry, Whacker” Marion peeps as she blushes.
“He’ll be fine; I’ll just go make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” Inbred says as he chases after him.
“So how long have you two been uhh…?” Banker hesitantly asks.
“It’s only been two days, Banks.” Hansel says, first confidently but then shocked as he realized how fast their relationship escalated.
“It feels like forever,” Marion stated, “And things unfolded quickly.” Marion smiles at Hansel, who shoots one back at her.
“So, let me get this straight, Marion threw the radiator out of whack to get Hansel alone to talk to him, right?” Meats clarifies.
“Yes.” Hansel says without a pause, Marion was holding back a bit, ashamed looking.
“And you two have banged already, right?” Banker says jokingly, a half-cocked grin.
Without a split-second pause, Marion shoots back “Yes” with a proud look on her face, the shy one in the relationship did this, leaving the outspoken Hansel with the ashamed look, and making Banker go straight poker face and stop still, realizing she wasn’t joking when he was.
Fin Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Later in the day, after everybody calmed down, got things straight, and cleaned up the puke, they team set out to link up with the closest remnants of their unit and form an attack squad. Hansel and Whacker pleaded to be folded into the unit that was currently housing and supporting them, but they said-“We’re just too damn small,”-and by that the colonel meant that his Panzer IV regiment wasn’t going to assist the Tiger II at all in combat-as much as the colonel wanted a Tiger II in his regiment-he couldn’t support it or even transport it like he needs to with the Panzers, the Tigers just to slow. The rally point for the remainder of the now platoon-and-a-half sized unit is northeast of the Panzer base, a good 200km away. On a full tank of fuel Marion can only go 110km, so the crew had to carry external fuel tanks to get them there. They would be cutting it close, but the rally point is a refueling base anyhow.
The majority of the journey that day was uneventful, a little rain at around 14:00, but it was a long boring travel otherwise. Until about 3½ hours later…
“Hey Sell, I see something up ahead in the field,” Meats hollered into the commander’s hatch. Hansel stood on the seat/stool and looked over to Meats, who was sitting on the loader hatch with his feet propped on the loader’s periscope cover pointing literally in front of the tank.
“Ah, I see it,” Hansel remarks, “It almost looks like an American tank.”
“It’s not moving, and it looks like the engine hatch is open,”
“Yes, it does,” Hansel picks the binoculars off the hook and peers at the tank, “Indeed, they’re performing maintenance.”
As the group approached cautiously, Hansel removed the rail-mounted MG42 and ammunition and attached them to the commander’s gun mount right above the cupola.
“I don’t like this,” commented Marion, “I see men working unnoticing of our presence…”
“WIR KAPITULIEREN! WIR KAPITULIEREN!” WE SURRENDER! WE SURRENDER! Rang out in a panicky tone from the Sherman as they drew closer. Once they got close enough, the Germans counted five scared to death men, and a shaking tank. There’s more? Hansel thought, And it’s American. The Sherman was a tiny tank to Marion, being only a foot shorter than her, but only 19’ long and 8½’ wide and only half her weight, Marion felt completely superior to it. The same thoughts are shared by the Sherman, he felt insignificant in comparison to her, he couldn’t even muster the strength to elevate his gun level, and let it drop down in submission.
“Well, what the hell are we gonna do?” Whacker brought up a good question, “We’ve got to keep moving or else we’ll run out of gas, and we can’t take them with us or capture them.”
“You’re right,” Hansel thought-“Wait how do you know German?” He inquired.
“I taught him, commander,” An American said, he looked to be of German descent, Hansel thought, “I taught Chuck some German, didn’t think we’d need to use it like this.”
Well damn, what can we do? Practically anything, we may have to- Hansel’s train of thought was interrupted when Meats said “God damn us but we’ve got to shoot them.” The Americans that understood him started to cry, plead no, Chuck the Sherman shut his eyes and prepared for the MGs to start up, a tear rolled down his turret side. I can’t do it, Marion thought,
“I can’t do this,” Marion said, “This is my one fear, I can’t do this to someone else,” the Americans’ faces lit up with hope, “We’re moving on.”
Simultaneously, Whacker, Meats, and Hansel said “Agreed,” and Meats let out a sigh of relief, he hated the war, but understood what he needed to do, and Banker finally pipes up with “Well the damn transmission got drenched in the down pour so we can’t start up.”
“HOW THE-” was all Hansel could manage to get out before the Germans groaned in disapproval, “Well, it looks like we have the same problem, commander,” the American piped, “I see no harm in setting up camp until they dry.”
After the two teams huddled, deciding whether the proposal should be agreed on, they reached a similar conclusion of ‘well we can’t move if we damned tried our hardest so what the hell?’
The two unlikely comrades busted out their camping kits and set up shop around a good sized fire. Two of the American crewmen pulled an old WWI rifle out, some ammo, and marched off, before they got far, Hansel and the American tank commander Joshua ran over to interrogate their actions. The two promised they were hunting in the bushes for some boar or deer they saw earlier. After some time back at the camp, the members heard two rifle shots two second gaps, then later the two from earlier brought in an impressive boar, which they skinned, cooked, and carved. Whilst this happens, Marion gets bored and her curiosity takes charge;
“So, Chuck is it?”
“Yes… why?”
“I’ve never met another living-machine… have you?”
“Only my girlfriend, Katelyn, that’s all. So I guess you’re single?”
“N-no, I can’t say that anymore,”
“Oh, so, is it one of them?” Chuck motions toward the group of men around a fire burning an overweight pig.
“Ummm, maybe…” Marion blushes a light red(?)
“Ahahaha! Which one is it?”
“There’s not many to choose from…”
“Is it… your driver? Umm-uhh Banker?” Marion doesn’t respond. “No, so… Inbred your gunner?” Again nothing. “Whacker?”
“Oh god no.”
“Hmmm, that just leaves Meats… and Hansel-” at the mentioning of Hansel Marion blushed harder, a darker red(?)
“It’s Hansel, isn’t it?” Chuck asked for clarity, Marion nodded her gun.
“Don’t be embarrassed by it, love is twisted, embrace it; how long?”
“Tonight is the second night.” Marion answered.
“Ah, it’ll get better; I just hope it’ll outlast the war.”
Marion suddenly realized this concept of possibly being forced away from Hansel. She started to tremble, she didn’t want anything to come between her and Hansel. Then she felt depressed, Chuck isn’t with Katelyn. Hansel and her are at least technically inseparable, as tank and commander, but Chuck and Katelyn?
“I’m sorry you’re not with Katelyn now, Chuck.”
“Yeah, I just hope she doesn’t get harmed, I don’t want her to hurt, so I try not to sacrifice myself, I hang back, and protect myself for her.” Chuck sighed in sadness.
“Do you have any pictures of her, Chuck?”
“Yes, yes I do,” His manipulating arms reached into his mantle and pulled out a little picture of two different Sherman variants. One was an E2 (Marion found out Chuck’s designation: M4A3E2 Sherman) and the other is a ‘Firefly’ Sherman, armed with a 17 pounder long barreled gun. Marion easily noticed a large sideways heart dent on Katelyn’s mantle, and asked about it. “That’s how we met, I accidentally shot at her in combat, and the round split, forming the heart.” How poetic? Marion thought to herself.
While the tanks were conversing, the crews were celebrating a glorious feast, even though it was burnt pig. The crews attempted to the best of their abilities to converse, themselves, but this proved ineffective so the majority gave up. Hansel learned a lot about Joshua, the two just clicked together like long lost friends. Later on, the group hit the sack, even though they bonded, all of them kept their side-arms unlatched and loaded. There was no need for use as all of them were exhausted from the work, and slept the night away; once awake, Whacker encountered Jackson, the Sherman radio man, getting on his radio. Huh, good minds think alike.
Once the crews awoke, finished off the remainders of the pig, they assembled their transmissions, and started off on their tracks, Chuck going west, Marion going North, both looking for their units. They exchanged information on unused radio frequencies, and decided on one to use if they ever wanted to chat. Within the hour the Germans were huddled around the radio waiting for a response; which came after about 2 minutes of waiting.
The groups happily talked for a long time, what else was there to do? Around mid-day, Marion needed more fuel, so they had to stop and switch the fuel out of the extra storage tanks mounted on her ‘back’ and transfer it to her tanks. This was a long process that took almost an hour due to cruddy pumping machinery. Once this was done, they marched forth, until they reached the rally point an hour or so before the sun will set.
“There isn’t a soul around, Cap.”
“Nope, not a soul. Wait I see something!” Hansel looks east and sees a Tiger II on the way flanked by some Tiger I’s, they look odd, though.
“Hansel it looks like that King has a bigger gun than I do, you see it too?” Marion was right; the approaching King Tiger had a larger gun than she did. A lot larger.
“Yes and it looks like they have stuff all around their armor.”
“Well there’s only one way to find out… wait.”
Fin Chapter 7
Chapter 8
“What the hell is that?” The formation of modified Tigers rolls up; the crews disembark and cluster together. The Tiger II with the massive gun stops near Marion and shuts down as the crew exits. The commander appears from the cupola, a tall figure with a long face and a bold nose and brow that seemed to give him a piercing 1000 yard stare.
“Excuse me officer but, what the hell is that?” Inbred asked again
“This my friend is an experimental King Tiger; a King Tiger mark II so to say, I’ll let Fritz tell you himself, it shouldn’t be awkward, after all your Tiger seems to be alive as well.” Marion then realizes that she forgot to veil herself, what with trying to figure out the odd battle group fast approaching. “My bad,” Marion replies.
“I am Alter Fritz, an experimental Tiger II with upgrades including 105mm KwK L/68 main cannon, an improved engine and drive system, a heated cabin, over pressurized air filters for elimination of poison gas, a stereoscopic rangefinder, and extra ammo storage; along with a few field modifications here and there.”
“So why are you all here?” Asked Banker.
“We were sent here to support your unit, but as you know they were attacked by American ground attack planes, and it seems you all are what’s left.” The commander answered. They didn’t know about the attack, it must have happened while they were talking to the Americans.
“So a few more questions, who are you? Where is your detachment from? What is that gear on your tanks?” Hansel questioned, trying to figure out who will be in command.
“I am 1st Lt. Edwards, we are experienced fighters from the Eastern front, and the gear on the tanks are skirts from a wrecked Panzer. IV company cut and welded onto the hulls and turrets for protection against airborne anti-tank rockets; and no, the Tiger Is don’t have any factory upgrades, only the spaced armor added.” Edwards answered rather confidently. Hansel was an experienced gunner when he served on a Tiger I in Russia, but when he was promoted he was switched to a Tiger II commander on the Western ‘Atlantic Wall’ reserves.
“So I outrank you?” Hansel questioned, he never commanded a squad before, and isn’t sure if he’s ready, he doesn’t want to waste a whole platoon of heavy tanks, and certainly not a one-and-only experimental Tiger II.
“Technically yes, I was to rendezvous here and meet here with you, the commanding officer of the remaining ‘ghost unit’, but seeing how your records indicate no trace of platoon command, I would recommend I assume command until the unit is folded into another.” Edwards hesitantly said, Hansel knew he was right; he gladly turned command over to Edwards, and asked how the skirts helped their armor.
“The rockets the Americans fire at us are timed detonation; meaning they explode a certain time after impacting the tank, which by then the rocket would have penetrated the armor, and thus the rocket would ignite the containments of the tank,” Edwards happily informed them, pointing and showing the mechanics with a stick going through the crevices of his joined fingers. “However, the spaced armor tricks the rocket into igniting outside the tank, the fuse setting it off right after striking the skirts.” The group was fascinated, something so lethal and deadly rendered useless by a guy with scrap metal and a welder. Before Edwards could explain how he figured this out, a scout posted in a fire tower spotted a platoon of Shermans heading for the fuel dump, which was right behind them. The crews raced to their tanks, prepping them and arming for battle, the Americans had the drop on them, and would swarm them fast. Whacker was the last to lock in; he needed to get their radio frequency first. Marion asked which frequency and Whacker gave her the channel, the radio adjusted to the channel before Whacker could touch it.
“krrshhhk-THEY’RE COMING OVER THE HILL!” Was the first thing that they heard, followed by the roar of guns fired by the Shermans, they were met only by ricochets off the German armor barely leaving a mark. Two Tigers got their guns elevated enough to return fire, one just barely missed while the other hit one square in the mantle. The only way the Americans would be able to really damage a Tiger tank is from close ranges at the sides and rear, and these Shermans must have been veterans because they attempted to swarm the Tigers. Fritz got a shot off going straight through a Sherman, front hull glacis passing through the engine block and penetrated another Sherman, causing both to instantly stop and catch fire. While Fritz was reloading he turned to hit another Sherman charging full speed at his flank. The most unlikely thing happened, the Sherman couldn’t alter its course and rammed into the 105 gun; the Sherman’s gun is only a 76mm caliber with a barrel diameter of 96mm, and it rammed into the girth of Fritz’s, and was stuck. With the force of the impact the gun recoiled back, hitting the loader and knocking him and the shell over, Edwards thought fast and instantly dropped the rear access hatch in the back of Fritz’s turret; leaving an exit hole for the Sherman’s fire. The Sherman spammed shot after shot unaware they were whizzing through Fritz, passing harmlessly through his turret and out the back.
Banker instantly knew what Hansel wanted him to do before Hansel could command him, Banker pushed forward to 3rd gear on the gearsticks, moving Marion forward passing Fritz’s rear until the turret had a clear line of fire on the Sherman. Marion revved up her engine to the max RPMs. The turret on a Tiger two has two modes, hand cranking, and power turning, at maximum engine output the secondary motor could put the turret around 360° in 10 seconds; 36° per second, Marion knew this, and her turret was on target in under 4 seconds. Inbred lined up the shot, aiming for the base of the turret in an attempt to rupture the shot storage. When Hansel commanded fire, Inbred hit the hand pedal trigger, and sent one through the turret, still igniting the ammo and blowing the back of the turret away.
“Dammit we were high!” Marion sounded, almost in a jesting manner.
“Nah that works,” Fritz said as he backed out of the snag and turned his turret to hit a Sherman peppering the rear of a Tiger, doing nothing to render it ineffective; just messing with the exhaust and the engine’s coolant. “But let’s focus at the task at hand and swipe the Sherman dirt away!”
“Their numbers have been halved!” The over watcher in the lookout tower radioed, the sunlight was dwindling, and the light that flashed from the guns was starting to sting their eyes. “They’re pulling back! We’ve got them scampering off ha-HA!”
Suddenly Edwards comes over the radio and says excitedly yet coolly that he spotted a ‘white stripe’ Sherman tank in the overlooking hedges. A white stripe on a Sherman turret indicates a field command tank, and usually should be dealt with immediately; but as soon as he got that out, they all heard a low engine rumble in the distance…
“P-FOURTY-SEVENS INBOUND!” Hansel heard Marion’s engine stutter and sputter a bit, then roar back to its usual tempo.
“TO THE WAREHOUSE NOW HANSEL!” Edwards shouted into the radio, and Marion wasted no time making a desperate dash carrying her heavy ass to shelter. Suddenly the P-47s appeared from the sky and unleashed a hailstorm of unguided rockets upon the Tigers, their armor skirt mods worked exactly how Edward described it worked, and they sat in the field and took the punishment, laughing as it does nothing. Except Marion, she’s about 200 meters away from a warehouse when Marion feels a sharp pain in the back portion of her right side wheel and bogie system. Nothing felt wrong, until that sliding feeling on her wheels ended and she felt nothing on the tops of her wheels. She stops immediately.
“Excuse me Marion, but, WHY DID WE STOP?!?” Whacker says calmly at first then in a panic.
“I’ve been tracked!” She replies in a sorrowful and deathly tone, like she was about to cry.
Around the time this was happening, Edward pops open the cupola hatch and pulls a dual-mounted MG42 mount, typically reserved and used by the Luftwaffe for anti-air roles, which is fine and dandy right now. He unleashes the fury of ‘Hitler’s buzz saws’ and peppers the P-47s trying to strafe, the bullets do nothing to the airframes, Edwards knew this, but smash through the glass with no problems, scaring off the attackers with his accustomed accuracy, and moves his attention onto Hansel’s predicament.
“Looks like the boot strings need to be retied,” Fritz said jokingly
“Yes, yes they do.” Hansel remarks as all the crews park the tanks near the ware house and move to help re-track the disabled Tiger II, Hansel and Meats pull off two replacement track link sets for the tracks while Whacker and Inbred guide the track hitched up to Fritz who is pulling the track back into place while Banker cues his movements. Once everything comes into place, they had to figure out who will do the most labor intensive part: busting off the broken track links and bolting on the new ones, all with one giant ratchet wrench. All of them simultaneously turned their heads to Meats.
“Oh okay! Get the big guy to do it! I’m not going to this time.” No one looked away. “Damn you all.” Meats got the tool and proceeded, this time everyone took pity and helped bust it off. Then Edwards walks over and says that they have a motorized one… They were done in three minutes. The platoon huddled around a fire while a select few were fueling up the tanks and the reserves. They were discussing that the nearby building could house the tankers while the tanks sat outside, except for Marion. They said that she needed to be in the warehouse because of the fact that she couldn’t be camouflaged as effectively as the other tanks, the spacing beams on the tanks were used as tie mounts for the bushes and nets and other masking utilities, while Marion had none of these.
“Fine, but Hansel stays with me.” Marion reluctantly agrees to Edward, who continuingly pressures the warehouse on Marion.
“I see no reason why not, fine, Hansel you’re bunking with Marion.”
“What?” Was all Hansel said, he was in a ‘sleeping high’, where it was hard to focus on things because he was mentally spent and needed sleep.
“Just come with me!” Marion proclaims as she grabs Hansel’s rucksack carry handle strapped to Hansel’s back, dragging him with her while Hansel’s face says ‘I don’t know, I don’t care’.
“Hey Marion, what happened to your engine back there?” Hansel asked intrigued.
“Well, it’s the equivalent to shitting yourself…” Marion replied.
“So, what’s up? What are we doing where you wanted me her?” He asked.
“We are going to have FUN tonight!” Marion softly spoke to Hansel, which upon hearing this perks up, and snaps out of the high.
Fin Chapter 8
Chapter 9
As soon as they got in the warehouse and locked the doors, they began to strip Hansel. Marion slid her hands under the layers of clothing Hansel had on and undid his undergarments while he undid the outer garments such as his jacket, headset and hat, belt, boots, etc. They got to it quick, Hansel hatched an idea and laid down on his back and kicked himself under Marion, who was oblivious to his position as she wrapped her arms around him. Hmm, this doesn’t feel like it did the other night… Marion thinks as Hansel shimmies underneath her, almost like he’s- Marion’s arm reaching up to stroke Hansel’s hair contacts a stiff but malleable shaft where his chin should be. Wait that’s not a chin what is he-! Hansel circles Marion’s prominent clit with his tongue right then, making Marion moan and shudder with enjoyment.
“W-Wha-What are ya-you do-oing? Ahh-ah-hah!” Marion manages to ask, completely enveloped in pleasure.
“Shhh Marion, I’m tasting you, enjoy love.” Hansel pulls out to answer, then goes back making Marion moan a bit more.
Hansel stops his circling, and drives his mouth into the split sending his tongue deep inside to search the area. He moves all around, looking for the spot, after a while it starts getting a little more wet inside. Hansel tasted some familiar tastes, similar from the kiss but this was more enjoyable tastes, the flavor danced on his tongue, so he started to make his tongue “dance” inside her warm caressing halls. He then realized what will happen soon and pulled his left hand up to his chin and inserted his index finger to test the tightness. Ooo she’s halfway! Hansel forces his tongue further into her depths, releasing loads of heavy moans, breaths, and loving remarks. Marion was in a completely new trance, the sensations the sensors inside her uterus were on a loving fire, and she couldn’t even think straight yet still knew how to repay Hansel for this awesome experience. She started teasing him, softly stroking his long hard cock, exciting Hansel more, tempting him, teasing him. Go ahead my love, grab it, don’t be shy- Hansel thought, thinking Marion was wanting to jerk him off. Marion started to rub the appendage that’s supposed to be a thumb up and down the head, forcing juices out in a slow smooth flow.
Hansel’s tongue then touched a portion of her lining and this certain spot made the engine rev up and the walls to tighten, Hansel found what he was looking for, he backed away from that spot ignoring Marion’s plea to return there; he was saving it for later. That later did come, the pressure on Hansel’s finger was immense, and his tongue had started to be constricted as well, Now I go! Hansel’s tongue made way to Marion’s G-spot, and French kissed it. Hansel took a deep breath and waited for Marion to release, she tried to hold out but the G-spot forced it out, all over Hansel’s mouth area and into his mouth as well. Hansel pulled out and coughed some of the liquid out, as a gag reflex, but then accepted the taste and allowed himself to swallow. The feeling of swallowing was eerie; sliding down his throat, but still he enjoyed it somehow.
“Now it’s your turn, Hansel” Marion said seductively as Hansel tried to spin around to insert his cock into Marion’s vagina.
She grabbed him with her manipulators and carried him to her face. Hansel didn’t notice down under that she was turning her turret at one point; she set herself up for repayment. She carries the confused Hansel to her side and places him on the armored track skirt, perfect height for her. Hansel then realizes what ‘his turn’ was, and fumbles up, a little shocked and concerned of what’ll go down, “Don’t be shy, Hansel, just relax and enjoy, love,” Marion then impels Hansel’s hard ridged cock into her mouth, and proceeds to suck on it and wrap her tongue around it. Hansel began to protest, but stopped once the sensations hit, his brain was nullified, and he began to slump over onto the sloped turret roof. Marion’s tongue was warm and soft; it was made of fine rounded links like chainmail, except a lot smoother, almost as smooth as a human’s but somewhat larger than a human tongue but not supper massive, and its entirety engulfed and caressed Hansel’s member, then it started to play with him. Licking one side until he was teetering on an orgasm, then stopping until he calmed down and did the same on the other side, then it started to stroke Hansel’s opening on the head, inducing “Gah”s from Hansel as this was an alien and unnatural feeling, yet still pleasuring. Then she pet the head’s top from tip to brim, eventually after a number of teetering cummings, she set Hansel up, got him to hold for as long as he could, then smiling awkwardly, licked the base of his head and member at the bottom side; a sort of male G-spot, and sent Hansel moaning and cumming.
All the previous unfulfilled climaxes piled up on reserves, as Hansel’s release was long and stimulating. Marion enjoyed the taste thoroughly, catching every drop on her tongue, savoring the unique taste and texture of it; it was warm and fluid, spurting out in streaks and first hitting the roof of her mouth before falling on her tongue, where it would sit, and start stiffening. Hansel erected his back, and tried to pull out but Marion was holding him in, she swallows and then gives a muffled ah-ah-ahh, saying that Hansel isn’t done yet, and he won’t be; he barely lasted half as long as Marion did, and needs to go another round. Marion kept his boner alive; rubbing and stroking it, and proceeded with previous gimmicks but changed a thing here and there. She implemented pulling him out to the brim then pushing him back in all the way slowly, Hansel enjoyed this, during this phase of oral sex Hansel went limp with stimulation; completely slumped onto her roof resting his lower portion leaving it in control of his lover.
Marion was growing tired, so she decided to finish Hansel, but in a disturbing and somewhat hurtful method. She went back to the basics, wrapping and caressing, until Hansel announced he was close, and then when he tensed up holding it in, she plugged his hole with her tongue. I’ll help you hold it, babe… She started to blow him again, only at a faster pace than before. In and out she swayed him, more and more did the pressure mount in Hansel’s penis, until the point he felt a sting; that’s when Marion gave in to exhaustion and removed her tongue to let it out. Hansel let out a long sigh of relief, and Marion giggled a little as this time the super pressurized cum shot like a gun and tickled the back of Marion’s “throat”.
“Now can I go back again?” Hansel asked in a seductive tone.
Marion just gave a nod, breathing heavily, exhausted by her actions. Hansel makes his way down under and rubs his dripping cock against Marion’s opening, each time he pulled towards him Marion’s engine revs up a quarter gear; he inserts his member and Marion lets out a loving moan. Hansel forces his whole length inside, Marion was still tight from the earlier ordeal, and before he’s all the way he reaches that ceiling from the other night.
“Marion what is this?” He asks as he probes it with playful thrusts, each one exciting the engine.
“Th-That-ssss mah-my cervix,” Marion tries to say smoothly but is interrupted by her heavy breathing and the stimulus Hansel produces with his thrusts. “It protects us machines from impregnation if we don’t want to become pregnant, I can raise or lower it based on the male’s size.”
Hansel stopped after Marion mentioning cervix, and he thought about her being impregnated, and wondered: “How would that work between us?”
“I don’t know, but that’s how the first Tiger II was conceived; a Tiger and a Panther fell in love and secretly copulated, the Panther gave birth to a heavy tank with sloped armor, they used the father’s name of Tiger and named it the second Tiger tank; Tiger Ausf. B,” Marion replied, then asked innocently “Can we get back to it now?”
Yes, Hansel immediately thrust upward expecting the ceiling that wasn’t there anymore; Marion must have retracted it deeper. He continuously pleasured Marion, until her forward suspension gave again and that’s when he paused. At that moment Marion’s rear suspension went perpendicular to her hull, and then fell onto the reverse angle, she locked her suspension so Hansel wouldn’t be crushed as Marion lost control of herself. Hansel knew she locked her suspension; his old crew locked the Tiger’s suspension in a ditch crossing, resetting that was horrendous; perhaps Marion can reset herself? Never mind that, Hansel thought, and focused on pounding Marion’s G-spot. She didn’t last long, exhausted to the point she could only quietly moan, Hansel didn’t last that long either; also being exhausted. They finished in less than two minutes, then they just lay there, but eventually Hansel climbed out, set up a cot and got dressed into sleep clothes, and unlocked the warehouse door while Marion reset her suspension. They looked as though nothing happened that night… except the oil and various liquids under Marion, but that’ll be gone by morning. Then as Hansel and Marion where falling asleep;
“I love you, Hansel.”
“I love you too, Marion. Sweet dreams.”
Fin Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Hansel and Marion woke up the next morning, and proceeded with the usual morning greeting, a good morning kiss, how’d you sleep questions. Stuff like that, only Hansel needed to use the restroom really badly, and it was the weirdest and longest piss he’d ever taken; same with the dump; for obvious reasons. After he emptied his system his stomach roared at him, he hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning, and so he headed off to the place the smell of food originated. He walked into the old office building and was greeted by the ugliest room he’s ever seen; the wood was rotted, the ceiling was sagging, the wall paper was shit to begin with but wear and tear along with nobody around to fix it made it look like someone painted horse shit on the damned wall!
“Great, just great.” Hansel muttered to himself, he walked over to the server and picked up a ration of food. The ration wasn’t anything to write home about, and that’s what Hansel wanted to do so badly; contact home, he felt a little more downed, the setting made him down at first, and at that moment he just wanted to be with Marion. He scoops up his ‘food’ and heads toward the warehouse; as he is on his way he stumbles into Edward.
“Captain Walter, the night patrol caught an American in the fields, as of right now he’s being held in the shift master’s office two buildings down. I would just like to know if you would care to assist us interrogate him? Your driver and radio operator have already agreed.”
“Yes, I think I will be able to, let me eat my breakfast then I’ll join you.”
“Thank you sir,” Edward then salutes Hansel, not a hiel Hitler salute, an actual pre-Hitler German army salute. Hansel dismisses the Lieutenant with the proper German salute, and continues off toward Marion.
“Hansel Walter? Is that your name?” Marion asks interested; nobody’s ever called Hansel by his last name around Marion.
“Yes, my name is Hansel Otto Walter.” Hansel grins, never introduced himself to a ‘lady’ like that, Marion nods and she then gives her ‘name’: “I am Marion Panzerkampfwagen VI auführung B, or Marion Tiger II, or Marion KöingTiger.” Marion searched for any other names and found none.
“I think your name beats mine, Marion.” Hansel said with a chuckle, trying not so spill his food. They talked for a while, shared views on the previous battle, and then Hansel brings up they found a survivor and Edwards and Banker and Whacker are interrogating him right now. Marion asks if she could tag along, what’s the harm in it? Hansel and Marion drive over to the shift master’s office; Hansel notices her engine isn’t running.
“Hey Marion, how are you moving if your engine isn’t running?”
“I can control my body without much fuel, I just can’t go very fast or get any actual power; I’d get stuck in the mud.”
Satisfied with the answer, Hansel just watches her maneuver around corners, hydrants, barriers, and anything else in the road with enjoyment; he really loves Marion. Marion snaps him out of his stare by asking why there’s a hole in the side. Hansel looks up and notices a shot hole in the spot that looks like it once was a door. He explains that it was probably locked so they blew it open. He climbs down from Marion and walks to the ‘door’, Banker and Whacker are standing there with aggravated and furious faces.
“The fucker knows German, and won’t stop calling me a fucking Aryan! Why won’t they just let me shoot this schweinhund right NOW?!” Banker is furious.
“Aaww! Is the Aryan boy mad?” A sarcastic and taunting voice comes from inside, Hansel looks in and sees a battered brunette man no older than Hansel wearing the same uniform marks as Chuck’s loader, only it wasn’t Chuck’s loader.
“Do whatever the hell you want with him Captain, just don’t kill him.” Edwards then storms out of the room, it was obvious he had enough comments.
“Oh look, the Nazis are getting frustrated, is it because their mommies don’t love them? Or is it because they were accidents?” The American was flawless in speech, and it seemed to have and Austrian dialect to it.
“He keeps insulting me, my parents, AND MY CAP!” Whacker grunts, he and Hansel go way back to Hansel’s first deployment, and Hansel knows how he cherishes his pilot cap.
“The fat pilot loves his hat, too bad it’ll never be used in a plane; he’s just too short and fat!” Hansel flinches, he knew that one hurt, he dismisses the two to relieve some steam. Marion asks with a chuckle: “This isn’t how interrogations usually go; is it?”
“I hear a Nazi whore!”
“No, I don’t get around at all, I’m no whore.” Marion shoots back confidently. The American sits up and leans back, scoots the chair he’s tied to over, and spots Marion through the window with a cocky smile.
“And it’s not just any whore; it’s a TANK whore! How many have you banged?” He looks right at her, Marion loses her confidence, not sure how to respond. He keeps pressuring her, diminishing her facade, then Hansel steps in to defend her.
“Ooo, she bangs people too! That must double the slut rating, how many times you fuck this Nazi? Wait let me guess!” He continues to count off random numbers; Hansel insists he cease his insults to her, to instead insult him like a man and not a lady like a bitch.
“Oh, so she’s special to you? Like you two are dating; too bad she’s seeing others because you can’t please her. You could do better than that whore-” Hansel commands him to stop, the rage building inside of him, here this little shit has the nerve to insult his girlfriend while he sits in captivity. The American pushes on, repeatedly calling Marion a slut and a whore. Marion can’t take anymore; she breaks and starts sobbing softly.
“Oh look at that; she cries because she knows it’s true!”
Hansel snaps.
Hansel grabs the chair by the back rest and drags the American to a vacant enclosed room; ignoring the taunting remarks from the American. He closes and locks the door. Thirty minutes later he emerges, wiping off his knuckles and using some of the American’s ripped clothing to wipe off his boots and buckles. Not many people dare ask what he did to him, and those who do aren’t answered. Edwards checks to see if he is still alive; he’s greeted by the American giving him the answers to questions asked before Hansel’s arrival.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Hansel asks Marion, Marion sniffles and nods; Hansel asks if there was anything he could do for her. She doesn’t reply, so Hansel wraps his arms around Marion’s gun barrel like a hug and says he could paint the 3 kill stripes they earned. Marion perks up and rolls over to their warehouse. They did more than paint stripes. Awhile after the pick-me-up fun, Edwards knocks at the door. Hansel opens the personnel door, and greets Edwards.
“I would have told you earlier but Alter Fritz said to give you two your alone time.” He said awkwardly, aware of what ‘alone time’ was.
“Oh, sorry, is that a problem?” Hansel asks, Edwards assures that it isn’t a problem, and goes on to inform him that the Americans have a large fuel reserve station on the Belgium coast, and that (other minor stuff not really appealing) and that he is a Jew from Austria.
“He’s a Jew?” Hansel asks, he personally didn’t care about the Jews being a ‘problem’, neither did Edwards, but-
“So what he’s a Jew, what’s so special about that?” Marion asks, she interrupted Hansel mid thought.
“Oh it means nothing, we’ll just leave him here when we evacuate. The Americans will deal with him.” Hansel answered. So that is what they did, evacuate almost immediately.
Fin Chapter 10
Chapter 11
The Americans were mounting a few kilometers away, the German company needed to move fast. Hansel didn’t notice that the battle group was an entire full scale company, complete with fuel trucks, ammo trucks, and the other necessary utilities where included; they had set up at the fuel depot already when the tank squad moved to meet up with Hansel the other day. The tanks were getting into the formation when Fritz notices a small ball of fur under his overhang on the back of his turret; he spins his turret around and is met with large frightened cat eyes. Fritz is confused as what to do, he’s never encountered a cat before, it hasn’t run off yet, and his engine is running while the cat doesn’t seem to care. The cat looks like it sounds off, and starts rubbing its face on the groves on Fritz’s bell-shaped mantle, the reverberations he feels must be the cat purring; it likes him! Fritz smiles, he appreciates the small things in life, at any instant his could be whisked away and he wants to know he died satisfied he enjoyed his life.
“Hey there little guy, what are you doing?” Fritz asks the cat, the cat just looks at him and appears to answer; the sound drowned out by the engine. “You remind me of Jäger, you want to tag along little one?” The cat jumped onto his gun, adjusted and jumped onto his roof and crawled into the cable-mount eye on the slope then lies down compliantly. The cat was a gray with dark spots that almost looked green, its tail was short and its fur was thick, its green eyes were menacing, and it seems to be a skilled hunter for its health and weight. Edwards climbed up and looked at the cat.
“Alter Fritz who is this?” He asked, “I think I’ll name him Franz. He’s my cat now.” Fritz replied, sounding childish; Edwards smiled and just dropped his head and shook it no, laughing a bit as he continued mounting the tank. Franz ran over to the open hatch and jumped inside. Not a fuck was given by anyone.
The formation fell in, and they all rolled out eastward, Edwards made contact with command and they instructed the company to return to Edwards’ old unit stationed near Munich for enlistment purposes. Hansel was giddy when he heard the news he would be returning home for a while. Marion brought up how she could meet his folks in ‘person’. Hansel turned quiet, signaling he had to think of a plan to do this, he never thought about actually introducing Marion to his family, he’s thought of their reactions but never telling them. Munich was a long, long, LONG ways away, so he would have plenty of time to formulate his plans, and to prepare for the possible reactions; most of them unapprovingly but Hansel knew he’d end up staying with Marion anyway.
It took about 3-4 weeks to travel, what with the speed, refueling, camp stops, air scrambles and breakdowns, otherwise everything was according to the planned times. When they were in a 3 day away window, Fritz would grow ever more anxious to get there, and would often leave the group behind until he would run low on fuel and stop to wait for the convoy to catch up. Edwards knew why and would laugh, he left Hansel and the others out in the blue as to the reason, but this was acceptable for Hansel and Marion had their own secrets. After long weeks of traveling, they finally reached the outpost at Munich. God how this changed! Hansel thought, when he left there weren’t AA guns or searchlights everywhere to be seen. It looked like a military occupation, but understood this was all because of the bombers.
“Fritz!” Marion and Hansel look over to see a JägdTiger go full speed towards Fritz, they both had a huge smile, the man on the roof of the J-Tiger did not however. He was caught off-guard and was thrown out of the hatch his legs were sitting in, rolled off the roof, and caught himself on the rear view periscope cover so he wouldn’t be thrown off the back after he slammed into the engine cover. The tank destroyer slammed into full reverse to slow herself down so not to smash Fritz, who had elevated his gun so that once she stopped next to him, it wouldn’t be interfering them while they kissed.
“Damnit Jäger you made me spill me drink! And it’s about time you got your white-ass back here Edwards!” The man who was on the roof stood up and threw his cup at Edwards with a smile, he was a little short to the J-Tiger of course but only 5’10” and was pretty slim, he was of Irish ancestry, you could hear it in his speech but he looked like an Irishman: really white skin, bright auburn-red hair in a long hair flat top style and hair everywhere on his arms, legs, chest, high cheekbones and a rounded chin with a broad grin, freckles everywhere. He had wide ears, a comfortable and approachable looking person, then when Hansel and Marion caught a look at his eyes they were breath taken, his eyes looked like a storm; a blue iris with a white lining and arms that stretched out encircled the pupil. He walks across to Fritz’s hull roof and walks over to Edwards and gives him a definite brothers’ hug. The two engaged in conversation as they had not seen each other in a long time. The tanks retract from their kiss and cuddle, talking to each other softly, The JägdTiger who must be named Jäger looked into Fritz’s eyes seductively, Fritz’s crew disembark and leave the couple to themselves, Edwards and the Irishman walk over to Hansel, Marion, and the rest of the crew standing around Marion and introduces everyone to the stranger.
“Well it’s nice meeting you, my name is Hans, but you can call me Irish, you all see where that came from obviously.”
“Irish where the hell is Jäger’s skirts?” Edwards asks, punching him playfully as he asks with a comic tone.
“She wanted them off, to quote-unquote “fully seduce” Fritz, I’m convinced it’d work either way; skirt or no skirt. I noticed there was a cat next to you that had the same cammo pattern as Jäger does.” Irish remarks, punching Edwards back with a grin. Edwards tells him the story told by Fritz about the cat, how it even reminded him of her; the colors matched perfectly.
Jäger and Fritz roll over, still cuddling, holding ‘hands’ and encircling each other’s upper structure with the leftover manipulators in a many-armed hug. Fritz introduces Jäger to the group, the crew didn’t feel awkward anymore, the whole living machine thing kind of grew onto them. They felt no different from talking to a human than they did a vehicle. Jäger had many shot marks on her upper glacis and superstructure, and at least triple the kill stripes as Marion, her gun was a massive 128mm Pak gun, and dwarfed Marion’s and Fritz’s in size, Fritz still had length however. Jäger’s eyes were green like Franz’s eyes, and hers were positioned on her face plate like Chuck, not on the sides like Marion and Fritz. The people went off for some chow and Fritz went off for fuel, Marion was good on fuel, she kept her extra tanks on, and her primaries was nearly topped off because of them.
“So how long have you two been together?” Marion asks Jäger.
“Ohhh, a long time, I can’t remember it just seems like it never wasn’t,” Jäger replies with a long smile on her face, “He told me about you and Hansel.” Marion nodded, they told him on the trip, and she couldn’t get a certain question out of her head.
“I have a question, Jäger, it’s about our ability to reproduce.”
“Ah, I had the same question too, when I was in Russia a designer visited to oversee performance, I asked him about it. I’m sure I can answer your question.”
“How does it work?”
“Well he didn’t get into scientific terms, he said that the male gender carries the male key, and the female gender carries the female lock; just like we already know of humans. The difference is that unless impregnation is successful will the cervix remain open and that contrary to humans, we can mate all through our pregnancy. That’s how Tiger IIs were made, the Panther didn’t tell the Tiger she was pregnant until she was about halfway in to it, then for fear of killing the fetus, he ceased all sexual activity with her. That’s how the sloped armor and the less complicated suspension and gun length arose, from the Panther’s qualities, while the Tiger contributed the heavy armor, high caliber multi-piece gun and barrel, and sights, if he continued on, the Panther’s genes would be overridden and a Tiger I with slightly sloped armor would have been born. This is for super-fast breeding, where a female can take in multiple male keys to create a new mixture of qualities for a better tank; the male amount overrides the equivalent female amount, if the Tiger stopped after initially impregnating the Panther, it would have produced a Panther with heavier armor. If the cervix is punctured but impregnation or the child is born then the cervix will shut again, unlike humans, this is to protect against forced mating or rape if you will. Do you understand?”
“Yes, yes I do, but, could I bear a child of Hansel’s seamen?” She asks hopeful, almost eager even.
“I do not know of that, sweetie.” They sit in quiet until the group of crew and Fritz returns again.
Fin Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Early in the morning, Hansel was awoken by Edwards. He knew the Lt. Colonel and the Colonel would only be at their offices early, and even then the Colonel was a maybe. Hansel gets out of his cot and dresses in his uniform, he loves wearing his uniform, it makes him feel proud and he looks good in it he’s been told. He walks with Edwards, who is giving him the best tips to sway their conclusions favorably, he warns Hansel of their characters; the Colonel is laid back and usually a yes-man while the Lt. Colonel is a hard-ass by-the-book douche. They soon get to the office and the Lt. Colonel is the only one in the room. Shit. They try anyway; Hansel gives his question respectively, and awaits the disapproval.
“Normally I would say no, but today is special.” The Lt. Colonel says, Hansel starts to smile but is cut off before he can thank him. “Hell no. You can’t just get folded into my battalion and expect to take leave on the first day! The balls you-”
“Ah shut up you tight prick!” The Colonel walks in from a side room smoking a pipe, “This Captain here has every damn right to take leave. He’s seen more combat action in a week than you ever have in a year!” That’s not the only action I’ve seen more of. Hansel thinks to himself smirking. “Then he hauls his ass here near his home and wants to see his family, and you say no, well we certainly know who’s the ballsiest, or the stupidest person in the room. Don’t even start with the paperwork bullshit. Captain I order you to take your leave, enjoy yourself.” Then he turned around and walked back into the room, not once did he take his pipe out of his mouth. The LTC frowned in disapproval, gave the two a stern gaze, and said dismissed coldly.
Hansel walked out in strides, relieved of his worry, and strode to Marion with the news. Marion gets giddy and they kiss for a little, then Hansel goes to a telephone station to call his parents. His parents are thrilled to hear he’s a half-kilometer from their apartment, he asks them to come out to the fields in-between Munich and the camp in three hours; they agree instantly. Hansel recaps with Marion about the plans, heads off to the showers, and gets some grub. He finishes up and goes to clean up Marion, he persuades her to let him polish the shot marks the 75mm AP rounds left, they didn’t hurt as much as the HE shot that hit her, and the marks weren’t nearly as big. Then Edwards and Irish stop by in their uniforms.
“Wait, you’re only a 1sg?” Hansel asks Irish, “How are you a tank commander at 1sg?”
“Well, the previous tank stripe was a dumbshit, I was the gunner and next in line. One day his dumbass thinks it’d be smart to stand up in the cupola in a close quarter tank battle. I think you know what happens next. Anyway the only thing we recovered was from belly button down when it fell to the floor spurting blood and internal shit all everywhere. Jäger didn’t enjoy that feeling inside her hull, and it was a pain in the ass to clean. I was never properly promoted and it was only a field promotion; we still don’t have a gunner so Jäger takes all the shots.”
Hansel and Marion shuddered; they definitely didn’t want to experience that first hand. Hansel finishes washing Marion in the nick of time; and the two depart for the fields. They arrive late by two minutes and no one’s around; Hansel waits knowing his parents are always late. At exactly ten after an old little brown car rolls up and two figures step out. Marion instantly recognizes them as Hansel’s parents; the resemblance was unmistaken. His mother was very fit: slim and curvy; you couldn’t tell she bore two children, with a face of a 25 year old and a gorgeous head of brunette hair that was styled into a bell curve. His father had a handsome and withered face with a bright joyful smile and large comfortable eyes magnified by his glasses, he was very tall and a little hefty, not fat or overweight, but he had some heft to him; he was bald like Meats and he walked assisted by a cane due to his profound limp probably from the ‘First Great War’.
“Oh look at our little Hansel!” His mother exclaims, her voice revealing she was older than she looked, “Oh you look so handsome and grown up in your uniform.” She envelops him in a long hug; she holds back the urge to cry in joy.
“You look like a man, son,” His father announces as he hobbles over to give his son a hug. “Sorry Gretel couldn’t make it; she had too much work to do.” Father and son lock eyes in a warm friendly stare. “I’m proud of you, Hansel, and I hope you go on to do even more; you’ve already surpassed me.” Hansel nods and says thank you, revealing he too is holding back tears.
“So how many have you popped Hansel?” His mom asks in a playful tone. “I bet he’s bagged a hundred, right son?” His father adds in a comic voice.
“Naw I’ve only got 14 tank kills.” Hansel answers, as they talk Marion happily watches unveiled, she doesn’t veil herself anymore, she has confidence in herself. Hansel’s dad brings up Hansel’s tank and how massive it is. Then Hansel starts to talk about it, building up for his introduction.
“So who is this person you wanted us to meet, Hansel?” His mother brought up, Hansel took a deep breath, and answered.
“I wanted you to meet Marion, my tank and girlfriend.” Hansel says as he rubs his hand across Marion’s side, Marion then says hello confidently, and introduces herself. The parents’ reaction wasn’t the same as the crews’, Mr. Walter was actually intrigued about it, and Mrs. Walter was unmoved, she still had her warming pleasant completion.
“I always knew you loved machines Hansel, and this just warms my heart to know you found love in your interests.” His mother sent Hansel into shock; he didn’t expect this from his mother.
“Damn I wish my car would talk, that’d make fixing it a hell of a lot easier. Damn thing.” His father’s was expected; Hansel shared the same comical style.
“So you aren’t disappointed or shocked about this?” Hansel asks confused.
“No dear, I am shocked about the living machine, but disappointed; no, you find love in all sorts of places and who are we to tell you right and wrong in love? You need to make your own discoveries in love.” His mother said, his father adds “Your life is yours to explore, and Gretel would probably be all for it. She is a lot like you only more inquiring of life.”
The group talked and conversed about their adventures and battles and history, Hansel and Marion left out sex of course, but on the topic of Gretel and her husband wanting children did make Marion bring up that children weren’t an impossibility. The conversation then turned into Hansel and Gretel’s first moments and baby years, parental stuff that embarrasses the child on a date. Normal family stuff; Hansel was still surprised that his family was treating Marion like a normal person. All the while Marion was playing with Hansel’s hair; prompting Hansel to ask why she always played with his hair, and then realized Marion had none to explore herself, and let it happen; accepting the pleasant feelings she produced from playing with his hair.
Once it was late and the two pairs needed to go their separate ways, they said their goodbyes and farewells as a normal family, and proceeded home. While they were underway, Hansel asked Marion about the children being a possibility;
“Yes we can have children. I know two tanks can and two humans; I’m just not entirely sure about a tank and a human.” Marion replies, and then sighs in disappointment.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Hansel asks concerned.
“I wish you could meet my parents, well my parents design wise. I haven’t even met them myself.” She was getting down, Hansel pet the top of her turret, and asked to watch the sunset. Watching the sunset brought up Marion a little, and induced her to ask Hansel of something they haven’t done since they left the fuel depot. Hansel agrees under one condition: don’t set up for pregnancy, Marion agrees and follows her word.
The deed is done and they roll home. Where they barely spot Jäger and Fritz bonding like they just did not too earlier in the trees, they simply smile in adornment and proceed quietly to their tank house and fall fast asleep. Hansel dreams of his usual dream, and Marion of how their offspring would look.
Fin Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Marion and Hansel were off on leave, Edwards and Irish were off messing around with the crews of Jäger and Alter Fritz; and the two lovers were flirting with each other to pass time. They haven’t been together for weeks, and really only met each other within the first week of deployment in Russia, their love was quick and eventful however; almost a work of fiction how fast they connected.
“I missed you Fritz,” Jäger commented after a long kiss, she then switched to her seductive voice: “and I haven’t been able to please myself the way you pleased me that one time…”
“Well now that we’re together I could fix your want…” Jäger snatched him, she’s wanted him since he left, and the same can be said for Fritz, the two were extremely horny and desired sex unbearably. “But where would we have our fun?”
“Well, there is one spot that isn’t too far from the base, only about a five minute roll from the houses.” She had a great seductive voice, sometimes Irish wonders if they really only banged once before questioning if they banged almost every day of their relationship. Fritz and she agreed they would go out at sundown. Until then, they convinced their crews to let them go for the night for a ‘reunion’ and were reluctantly approved, and by reluctantly: Jäger held Irish at gunpoint to get him to agree, after all she was considered ‘nude’ without her skirts and anti-anti-tank rocket shields in their places.
Sundown; Fritz starts to get aroused, Jäger is leading him to their spot and the whole time she lets her chassis rock side to side lulling Fritz’s eyes to stare at her ass, her large gorgeous and tasty ass. He felt an erection coming on, it wasn’t banging hard but firm, it was pressing against the inside pocket of his lower hull. Male and female anatomy for tanks is pretty much the same; the genitals are in the same area to prevent them from sustaining battle damage from an anti-tank round. Once they arrive at the thickly forested circle Jäger did a one-eighty and met Fritz in a sexual kiss, Fritz’s cock went mad, he felt it pushing and throbbing in his hull, but he couldn’t let it open up now; it would rocket into the ground and that would ruin the night.
“I can’t hold it back much longer, baby, let’s get started, shall we?” Fritz implied, Jäger smiled a sexy grin and spun back around and raised her rear suspension to elevate her hind end then proceeded to shake it in Fritz’s face. Fritz simply lowers then pops his forward suspension to get a jump up to Jäger’s engine roof; he then adjusts himself and releases the beast in his hull. Male tank scrotums are like manipulator arms in that they can extend and bend to a certain degree at the base for ‘maximum effectiveness for delivering the male key’ when it was really to be able to fuck the shit out of their mate. His package shot out and nearly impaled Jäger’s ass if he wasn’t in a gently sloped position, he then spurs his engine to slowly push him to his spot to fuck Jäger.
“Oh god damn you take a long time! JUST FUCK ME ALREADY!” Jäger was going mad; her hormones were demanding sex now, good long and hard sex.
“Your wish,” Fritz extends his member to her thickened vagina lips and starts stroking them. “Is my command,” He says in his sexual cold monotone voice.
Jäger shudders and groans, each stroke releases her warm juices onto his cock giving Fritz a wave of pleasurable sensations. Fritz continues to rub her pussy, releasing small amounts of his juices exiting his end and being rubbed into her slit. After a good bit of this Jäger grows annoyed by this teasing and slides onto Fritz’s cock, moaning and groaning with hints of pain as Fritz’s member was quite larger than one may think.
“You’re so tight, warm and wet Jäger, when did you pleasure yourself last?” Fritz asks rhetorically, holding back his urge to moan due to the immense pressure on his cock.
Jäger gasps in between moans “The night before you got back, you?” she can feel him throbbing gently inside her, the precum in his dick being forced out by the cum building inside him. She then goes back to her moaning and murmurs.
“Not since you and I last fucked, no time alone to do so.” He answered as he pulled out a little to thrust. Jäger feels this and prepares for his charge, he pulls his hull up towards Jäger’s roof and thrusts his probe deep inside Jäger; who yelps in both pain and pleasure followed by a cry for more. Fritz then ‘humps’ Jäger again, then slightly faster again, and faster, and faster, each blow more pleasurable than the last, until there was no pause between a thrust and a pull and another thrust. Jäger was breathing in bursts now, her vagina felt like it would explode, and her forward suspension let go of strength to put it all in her hind suspension, her chest was being pounded into the ground. Jäger was slick like ice, and felt like a sauna, her vagina was compressing on Fritz’s cock with an unrivaled power and effectiveness; Fritz was growing close, he could feel it a lot stronger now.
“GERRUNG I-MM-CL-OSSE –YAE-GER!” Fritz grunted out, focusing on pounding Jäger’s pussy hard. “AH-AH-AH-AH-AH-AH” Is all the response he got. He suddenly felt a great increase on the constraint of his dick; Jäger is either close as well or griping him harder consciously. He clenched up tight, holding back his ejaculation as he quickly tried to pull out but Jäger’s manipulators wrapped around him and pushed him back in. “BU-AHHHHH!” Was his response, the immense wave of cum initially stayed put inside Jäger but the sheer amount forced a great deal out between Jäger’s clit and the bottom of Fritz’s throbbing probe. Fritz went brain dead with his orgasm hitting him hard, his suspension went out and he simply rested on Jäger.
“Uh, uh, uh, now, it’s, my, turn-” Jäger then pushed herself up, and lowered herself down, riding Fritz’s cock like a pogo, she moved slowly, and savored the feelings. She moved her hull around to position his member to rub the right-there! “Ahhh-ha-ha that’s the spot!” Jäger announced once she contortioned her body to rub their G-spots together, Fritz didn’t verbally protest but he felt the pain of the tight slow grind and would whimper a little on every push. She rubbed them until they were ‘raw’; forcing two more orgasms out of Fritz, then Jäger grew close to hers…
“OooOOoo! Ah Fritz, make me cum!” She stopped her grinding and let Fritz take over. A malevolent looking smile overtook his face, and he having regained his strength, he FUCKED her. Her mouth watered and she drooled, her eyes rolled back into her ‘head’, and she death griped Fritz’s devastating member then went completely limp and null in her vagina during her explosive orgasm. Fritz didn’t stop there, he continuously pounded her until she could feel her pussy again, and it felt like jello, then he released his final deposit of seeds into her closed vagina. The cervix was beaten but not broken, and Fritz slowly slid off and landed with a thud, the two of them sat on their hull bellies, too exhausted to get up, then sat together in an embrace and a string of kisses.
“I love you Fritz,” Jäger says affectionately, leaning against Fritz.
“I love you too, Jäger,” He replies lovingly, then a face of concern dawns him, “Jäger where is Mini Rommel?”
“Oh he’s still with us; he’s just in the city helping with the recruitment. He’ll be back tomorrow. Why?”
“He usually has a pick-up line we’d joke about right about now…”
Jäger simply puts a finger over his mouth, and leans for another kiss, and is met halfway by Fritz, they relax and watch the stars go by.
“So, Fritz…”
“Yes dear?”
“Tomorrow night, I’m thinking oral…”
“Hah, that’s something I’d want to see us try!”
“Yes but I’ve been wanting to taste you for a long time now, and I think I have an idea on how.”
“Maybe, but we’ll have to see, darling, we’ll have to see.”
“Another thing, love?”
“Yes dear?”
“I’ve been thinking about children…” Fritz is offset by this and sighs deeply, he too has been thinking.
“After this war ends, after, if it ends.”
Fin Chapter 13
Chapter 14
The group was hanging around eating morning chow and talking to the American tank and crew on the radio. The Americans have been trying to teach English to the Germans and the Germans teaching German to who didn’t know already on the American crew, with a good deal of success. Neither Hansel nor Marion talked about last evening; keeping Jäger’s and Fritz’s little adventure secret. After breakfast finished, and everyone except Hansel and Marion dispersed, Marion brought up that she needed to pee.
“You have to what?” Hansel said aghast.
“I need to pee, Hansel.”
“What is supposed to come out exactly?”
“Uh, I need and oil change. Is that better Hansel?” She said sarcastically.
“Yes, I’ll get the tools-” Hansel was cut off by Marion.
“No I can just piss it out while you get the new oil.” She was growing more annoyed.
“Alright then, fine! Why are you getting so pissy?” He asked while handing her a container to release the ‘piss’ into, also a little annoyed.
“I haven’t taken a piss in over two months.” She snapped.
“So what? My car needed an oil change once every six mon-”
“I NEED TO FUCKING PISS DAMNIT!”
With that he shut up and put his hands up as if to say ‘fine-you-win-you-don’t-need-to-be-a-bitch’ and went to get more oil for her. Along the way he passed a Panther tank that definitely belonged to the unit. It was a Panther D model, but along with the standard side skirts it too had extra skirts like Fritz around the sides, rear, and around the turret in a similar manner of the Panzer IVs. Ah the good old Panther D’s! He loved Panthers, on the Russian front when the Tiger I first appeared it was unstoppable, then the T-34-85 came along sporting an 85mm long barrel that could pierce a Tiger’s front like butter, the Panthers however came late just enough and their fronts could deflect anything the Russians shot then. Matched with speed, maneuverability and firepower, the Panther is the best medium tank that ever entered the war; Hansel thought to himself. He noticed some painting on the side of the turret: Mini-Rommel.
Mini Rommel was rolling along, trying to find either Jäger or Alter Fritz, he’d just been relieved from his piss-poor duty as a playground for Hitler Youth children and wanted to talk to a familiar face. While strolling down the tank houses he passes an unrecognized face, he was pretty tall, blonde hair, rank Captain, and had an eye for him, he wasn’t offset by the eyeing, he’d get it a lot; he was one of the best damn tanks the German war machine has produced and he’s damn proud of it. He concluded another heavy tank was added because of the rank and the man being unknown to him, he rarely forgot a face. Not too long after that he comes across a living battle veteran Tiger II awaiting oil in its house. Eager to make a new friend, he rushes over to introduce himself.
“Hello there, my name’s Mini Rommel, but most either call me Mini or Rommel. What’s your name?” He asks optimistically.
“My name’s Marion, nice to meet you Rommel.” She responded cheerfully. Shit. Rommel’s outward completion doesn’t change but on the inside he sags and feels down, he hates having to do this, he feels wrong and stupid. He kicks himself mentally and thinks of a really bad pick-up line. God how I hate this!
He starts flirting with Marion very badly. Marion just lets it happen, wanting to see where this’ll end up for the hell of it. She listens and jokes with him, but in his voice she can pick up a hint of sorrow and regret, she can’t quite pin it but she’d say he’s holding back, and/or doesn’t want to do this. Strange. After three minutes he stops flirting and just talks. Then Hansel gets back with the necessary amount of oil and greets them.
“Hello again Mini Rommel, I see you’ve met Marion.”
“Yes I have, most people either call me Mini or Rommel. You must be Hansel?” Marion noticed his voice, he sounded uplifted, relieved.
“My name is Hansel; do you have a crew, Mini?” Hansel asked.
“No I don’t have a crew; I am one of the experimental tests of performance. I am completely self-sufficient: I load my ammo racks, load my gun, re-fuel myself, really the only things I can’t do effectively are man the hull machine gun, fix myself, close-quarter infantry repelling, to sum it up anything that isn’t part of my body at close quarters.” Hansel was impressed; all his previous assumptions were indeed plausible: Marion could fight for herself if need be.
“So, you must get lonely, I mean you don’t have a crew to company you.” Hansel asked blandly, Mini sighed.
“Yes, I do get lonesome. That’s why I spend the majority of my time with Fritz and Jäger, speaking of which have you seen them around?” He replied in a depressing tone.
“No we haven’t Rommel, not today at least.” Marion said ushered, possibly bored and depressed about his state.
“Alright, I’ll keep looking; it was nice meeting you two. Farewell.” He continued onward in search for his friends.
“Damn that sucks,” Hansel stated, “He doesn’t have a crew. I couldn’t operate alone.”
“He flirted with me horrendously.” Marion started.
“He What?!” Hansel said, jealousy setting in, as well as fling feelings. He starts to rant on but Marion over takes him.
“I don’t mind, actually, I’d say he was either holding back, or he hated flirting with me. You should have heard some of his lines, they first off sucked and secondly his presentation was downright awful; it was somewhat amusing.” Marion talked over him; Hansel was listening, and quite mad that she didn’t care. “I feel pitiful of him almost, not emotionally bonding, but empathy maybe.”
Marion eventually forced Hansel to agree to let this slide, she did say that she at first only wanted to see him try and fail, and maybe to see if there is something up with him. There was something strange about him, every other day he’d leave the base suddenly at the same time, and return with quarter the amount of fuel he started with before he left. He is a good spirit, and his name originated from Rommel being called The Desert Fox and how Mini and Rommel are both sly and cunning. He’s quite playful; he screws around with Irish, Edwards, Whacker and Banker a lot, and sucks worse than Whacker and Banker combined at flirting. Hansel experienced this first hand while working on Marion’s radiator… again… he was appalled, enraged, and was only held back from laughing by Marion’s hand cupping over his mouth. Hansel agreed that Mini didn’t like flirting, that he was hiding something. Soon the winter months would arrive.
“Hey, Inbred.” Marion called one morning. “You’re a puzzle solver right?”
“Yes I am, why Marion?” He answered.
“I need a favor from you, you know haw Rommel acts strange, I have a hunch why.”
“Go on.”
“I have two ideas, he’s either a spy somehow, or he’s got a secret lover.”
Inbred was in to it, he loved riddles, Marion gave him all she knew and more reasons why. She felt more on a spy, but Inbred would probably know best. “I got nothing.” He states; confusing the shit out of Marion.
“What do you mean?!”
“This is Hansel and your riddle, not mine. I’ll give you my idea after, but for now this is yours and yours alone.”
Fin Chapter 14
Chapter 15
The group was hanging around the afternoon mess tent on a rainy Sunday when a platoon of Panzer IV’s moved to support the battalion finally arrives after the rain stops. The group pays no mind as they pass, Mini was joking with Whacker, Banker, Edwards and Irish, Marion, Fritz, Jäger, Inbred and Hansel were talking not too far from the others. While Banker and Whacker were arguing over who’s role was more important or more difficult, nobody really knew what it was exactly just that may have been the topic, the Pz. IV crews disembarked very loudly. They must have been raw recruits none probably older than 20. That is when Hansel heard the splashes of someone running very fast towards him from behind; he had no time to react, before he could turn around he was almost tackled off his feet and enveloped in a bear hug. A sobbing and choking voice piped up.
“I thought you were dead!” Hansel instantly recognized the voice. “Y-Y-Your battalion was listed as…” His voice cracked: “Destroyed!” He then broke into more sobs and gasps for breath.
“Who the hell is this?” Jäger said in an authoritative tone.
“This, this is Anton. Anton Walter. He’s my cousin.” Hansel said, holding back tears of his own.
“So why is this such an emotional incident for the two of you?” Marion said, she understood family but Hansel wasn’t an emotional crying person.
“I pretty much raised him.” Hansel said, twisting around to hug his distraught and amazed cousin.
“What-”
“I’ll explain later, Marion.”
The two let each other go after a long time, Anton was considerably shorter than Hansel, he had to be only 5’5” and 125 pounds. He looked like Hansel only he had a more innocent and young look to his eyes, that was also different; Hansel had brown eyes while Anton had green. Anton kept a high-and-tight haircut and his uniform was spotless; he had a Hitler Youth Iron Cross badge on his chest and the Hitler Youth dagger at his side. Hansel noticed this; he was uplifted to see Anton was taken care of after he left, even the old scars looked like they cleared up! A Pz. IV H model outfitted with armored skirts rolls over and greets the group.
“So this is the Hansel Anton would keep referring to.” The Pz. IV was definitely female, her voice gave it away, it was soft and comforting like Marion’s, but more mature like Fritz’s.
Anton spins around in a flash and answers; “Yes Faust! This is Hansel!” He says very fast bouncing up and down, he then darts towards Faust, jumps onto her sloping front, hops onto the hull roof, then belly flops onto her turret roof and spins around to face the others. Faust simply chuckles softly. The others are somewhat confused as how to act, the scene just went from an emotional reunion to a playful recess from work.
“So Antie, how about you tell Hansel and the others your position in the crew.” Faust spoke aloud to Anton, looking up to him while he looked around curiously.
“Oh! I’m Faust’s loader and her mechanic and her camouflage painter!” He said enthusiastically, getting a not bad face and a slow nod from Hansel, Marion shot a sounds familiar face to Hansel, who was different only by being a tank commander.
Anton’s head jerks up and left, he lunges off Faust exclaiming “TREE” and runs off toward a low hanging oak with Irish in the limbs and Edwards at the base. “Here we go again,” Faust sighs as she sluggishly rolls to the tree. Anton gets to the tree and without stopping jumps into a branch and hauls himself up a good bit by the time Faust gets to him.
“Get down from there damnit!” Edwards says aggravated, “You got one too?” Faust asks also aggravated.
“No I have TWO IDIOTS to deal with!” He replies rhetorically yelling into the tree.
“Yeah well you can just shut up! At least I can climb a damn tree!” Irish yells down, crawling towards the other idiot, Franz, who is spooked on the edge of the branch. Anton scrambles up past and stops about three-fourths up and pauses to look down, when Faust calls him down he simply says no. The two keep going back and forth; down-no-down-no-down-no.
“Anton, get down here! Else I’ll shoot you down!” She threatens, “Let’s not and say we did!” Irish shoots back. Franz jumps from branch to branch until he gets to the ground where he bolts for Alter Fritz and Jäger, then to Faust. Anton mopes as he climbs down.
“Alright you little shit now it’s your turn to get down!” Edwards yells at Irish, who is starting slowly down. About halfway he steps on a branch and it gives way, letting him fall through the tree screaming SHIT the whole way until he hits the ground on his back with a thud and a groan. He stands up and brushes the foliage off of his clothes as Edwards walks over.
“Damnit Irish!” He sounds loudly as he smacks Irish over the head with his hat.
“Gah! WhatIdo!?” Irish asks quickly and in an elevated pitch.
“Well first you scared the damn cat off. Then you fell halfway out a tree you scrump!”
Faust goes on rambling about how Anton’s ruining his nice uniform and how one day he’s going to go off and get himself hurt while she pulls him to sit on her sloping front and holds him there with her arm as a lap-belt picking the bits of tree out of his uniform and hair while also wiping off his face. Meanwhile Hansel starts to explain his history with Anton to Marion, Inbred, Jäger, and Fritz.
“It starts when I was eight years old; he was only four and didn’t have the best start in life. His father left him and his mother when he was born, and his mother was only around for maybe three years; and during those three years all she did with him was go to work and feed him, otherwise she left him with my grandmother to take care of him but when Anton was three and a half she demanded that Anton’s mother be around more. She would go out to the bars or the corners and bring home men of all sorts and they’d only last about two-three days before they’d disappear, Anton’s home was across the street from mine and I’d go over to his apartment after school and teach him some basic skills like counting, spelling, writing, speaking, manners, and about some history. I would take care of him by bringing foods, water, clothes, grooming utensils, soaps, that kind of stuff. When he was six his mother would start beating him in drunken spurs, I found out and I’d either be there to defend him, or I’d usually opt for taking him over to my house and letting him sleep in my room, safe from his mother. He started grade school and I would walk him from my house to the school every day, I gave him some lunch, a bag, and some change for the day, but being small he was pushed around by the other boys and beat up a few times, and he’d lose all I’d given him that day.
The worst beating was when he was nine, the bigger kids at school had pinned him to the wall and punched his gut, kicked his legs, elbowed his chest, and crushed his arms before lunch, he said he threw up a bit, and left school and barely got home, that’s where his mother was, a drunk mess and pissed that he was at home, she beat him even more, around the head, back, and waist region. He was bleeding a good bit when he got out as best he could and made a dash to my apartment building, he fell in the road and crawled to the door when he passed out from blood loss, my mother found him in the lobby and took him upstairs to our home and called me out of school. I knew something was bad when I was told it was urgent and found the blood trail still in the road. Anton was lucky to be alive; when he was conscious I told him he wasn’t a part of that household anymore that I will take care of him fully from now on, mother and father supported me and helped me when I needed it. Something that week made me very enraged and I demanded to know who the kids who did this to him were and where I could find them over the school break, I found them, all five of them, and I beat each one of their asses shitless without mercy. None of them died but my message was clear, none of them touched Anton again. I saw him through thick and thin, through the best and worst of times, I helped him with schoolwork, with social problems, I fed him, clothed him, cared for him when nobody else did, he was very active, he’d run around constantly, he couldn’t sit still or think about one subject longer than a minute to save his life, he got into trouble a lot, for horseplay, insubordination, that stuff. He never once saw the wilderness, great trees, wild animals, none of that, all he saw was promotion posters, pictures, poverty, and then Hitler Youth groups; he wanted to be a Hitler Youth so bad, he’d beg me and beg me to sign him up, but I didn’t let him. I was afraid of what they’d turn him into, whether it is a failure or a cold blooded, heartless, incompetent Nazi, but I had hoped it may shape him up better than I could, and from what I can see, it did the latter. He must have joined after I left for basic’s school, he cried when I left, begged me not to go, he told me right as I left: I wanted to be like you; now how am I going to do that Hansel!? Please don’t leave me!” Hansel got more and more emotional as his story progressed. He didn’t start crying or choking, but this is the most emotional he’s ever been around anyone other than Marion, Inbred was completely breath taken by this. The moment of awe was short lived, as Anton was running after Franz he had recently met with Faust, who was chasing after him pleading at this point to stop, followed by Irish and Edwards chasing after Franz but still behind Faust. Franz ran underneath Fritz, and only downed for a moment, Anton switched to a game of chase, chanting “You can’t catch me! You can’t catch me!”
“Oh I’ll catch you Antie! Mark my words: I’ll catch you!” Faust taunted Anton, playfully chasing after him, Irish and Edwards had no idea that Franz was under Fritz and continued to chase Faust believing she was chasing Anton who is chasing Franz. Jäger, Fritz, and Inbred realized this and couldn’t help but laugh the ass of their chassis off, except Inbred, he just laughed his normal and scrawny ass off.
“So, you pretty much raised him his whole life?” Marion asks a bit concerned as she watches the comic scene go on.
“Yes I guess one could say so. Why?”
“I’m starting to reconsider having kids.”
“Well, I tried my best I’d say.” Hansel said hopefully. “That doesn’t help.” Marion replies.
Hansel smiles awkwardly and slowly nods. He stays quiet for a while then is hit with what Marion has just proposed. He’s quite offset and his facial expression turns toward the horrified side. He looks over to Marion and meets her ever-comforting gaze and asks a bit questioningly: “Kids?” Marion’s face scrunches up and she snaps out “No not now! Of course not now. Later on in time. Maybe after the war.” Hansel takes a deep refreshing breath and releases in a sigh of confidence and relief. Marion smiles and instantly starts teasing with him again.
“I’m still rethinking that decision based on the turn out of your first child…” She says, gesturing to Anton running circles around Faust as she playfully laughs and tries to chase him with her turret spinning as fast as it could. Irish and Edwards found out that Franz was somewhere else and had given up in the chase and were exhausted and lying down in the mud near Faust, Irish not giving a fuck about the muddy mattress while Edwards was half-assed kicking at him to get up.
“Ehhh- I tried my best at the time, I’ll do better with ours, okay Marion?” Hansel asks as he leans against Marion, who wraps her manipulator arms around him in a warm and gentle python hug while they hold hands. “HmmHmmHmm, we’ll see Hansel.”
Fin Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Once everybody calmed down and regained strength lost in their fun, they all huddled around in a large circle, sitting on their assigned tanks, Whacker and Banker had stopped arguing, Franz slept underneath Fritz’s gun mantle, Edwards was sitting on the commander’s cupola hatch, Jäger sat left of Fritz with Irish passed out sprawled out, a muddy mess, on her roof, to Jäger’s left sat Marion with Hansel sitting on her turret in line with her gun while banker leaned against her cheek sitting on the hull and Whacker siting in his position with the hatch un buttoned, Inbred was sitting in the loader’s hatch, while Meats was cooking up a supper, he was fed up with what they served here. Left of them was Faust and Anton lying on his belly on Faust’s turret roof with his head propped up with his elbows and hands. To the left of Faust and right of Fritz sat an empty space.
“Wasn’t there a modified Panther with you guys earlier?” Faust asked intrigued.
“Yes there was. Where is Rommel?” Hansel replied, also concerned.
“Damnit you two! I told you guys to keep an eye on him!” Marion said angered as she smacks Whacker and Banker up-side the heads with her manipulators.
“We were!” Whacker says sporadically, defending himself, “He kept mumbling I’m going to be late, and she’s definitely not going to this time, then we started arguing- (Banker pipes up about the argument again) –shut up Banker- and that’s when we looked over and he was gone, not a sound as I can remember!” Marion continues to look sternly at the two who appeared like scolded children.
“He went that way then turned right.” Anton states, pointing just left of the oak tree he climbed, then drags his hand right slowly, “And he went off into the woods a bit, then Faust yelled me down.” Marion curses under her breath.
“I don’t see why it bothers you so much,” Inbred said to her, “He can’t be a spy, think about it: we aren’t informed of any key details, we’re still here and alive, he is still alive and he would make a terrible spy. He has shitty cover ups and presentation, along with the fact he would be a Russian spy on the Western front? Not logical at all.” He made a point; Marion knew he’d always make a point, and smiles.
“Now all that’s left is one option.” Her smile grew maliciously. “Hey Hansel, let’s start us a good fire, now seems like a good idea!” Hansel is quite stunned by this, he’s never thought she could be this hell bent on something. His expression says worried, she did go from being extremely shy to exposing others of their secrets. In less than a month.
“So you want me to go get fire wood out where Rommel disappeared?” Hansel asks as he slides her side and pops off the skirt. Marion just smiles and looks him in the eye with an: I’ll pay you back glare, Hansel doesn’t care about the I’ll pay you back but trudges off anyway.
After about eight minutes alone, Hansel starts to talk to himself like he thought he did before Marion, he rambles on in English, trying to practice it, he wanders through the woods for a while, deeper and deeper, talking more and more. He stumbles upon a toppled tree, baked in the sun by a clearing, dried out from the rain about two-three hours ago; he visually marks it and out of the blue, spots and indicator of the topper. German tank treads. He tracks them for maybe a half mile then hears Mini-Rommel, speaking English! Holy Shit where did he learn that? Hansel asks to himself, still talking aloud. He comes across Mini’s flank view, he covers in the bushes and observes. Mini continues to speak broken English, to someone else, he can’t see them, Minis in the way. Then Mini stops talking, he was flirting, very, very, well, making his previous shows look completely faked and purposely shit. Then another voice starts about wanting to stop hiding and come out to Mini’s friends, it was feminine, a different broken English tone, there was something familiar in that voice, a certain dialect he remembers from the-
“Russians!” Hansel blurts out unconsciously, still in his think aloud mode, Mini instantly jumps back, scared shitless, revealing Hansel’s only nightmarish fear: a T-34-85, also scared shitless, looking right at Hansel. Hansel freaks shit, he shoots up unable to conjure a scream, hitting his head on a tree branch and is launched out into the open by his mass changing direction. Mini-Rommel moves in between Hansel and the T-34 crying please don’t hurt her! Please don’t! Hansel finally screams in terror as he kicks and thrashes toward the bush he fell from, he slowly starts to breathe, extremely fast but he’s not screaming, and realizes he’s still alive and partially recomposes himself to point a shaking hand and finger at Mini.
“WHO IS SHE?!” Hansel demands, completely terrified, he notices his hands are white, and expect his face to be white as well, it was.
“Her name… is Kramia, and she WON’T HURT YOU!” Rommel screams to be heard over Hansel’s burst of panicked screams. “You actually decided and argument we’ve been having.” He turns to Kramia and speaks to her in Russian, quite fluent Russian, better than his English.
“I’ll speak in German then, better than my English.” She says in perfect German, she calms Hansel down with Mini’s help to where Hansel could talk in his usual tone.
“So why do you speak English? How?” Hansel asks, and is told it was supposed to be their ‘secret language’ but that proved flawed, and by radio channels do they learn. Hansel learns that Mini can speak Russian fluently and Kramia can speak German fluently, obviously. After some questions and answers, once the sun downed Mini-Rommel swallowed his pride and agreed to take them to the camp after Hansel gathered the pre-found fire wood.
“You have no idea how badly Marion wanted to know this,” Hansel said, still squirming in front of Rommel’s gun mantle, “I think I could have gone without.”
“Yes, now you know. I’m deeply sorry for the things I’ve said to her.” Rommel says, flipping the coin on Hansel.
“It’s alright, I understand why- wait, you knew about me and Marion?” He asks a little frightened.
“Yes I knew for almost the whole time. Except the first day, I didn’t know then.”
“Now you don’t have to do that anymore, Mir.” Kramia said, Hansel asked what she said and she clarified that she calls him Mir instead of Mini, or Rommel, or Mini-Rommel. Once they arrive at the huddled group Marion chant she knew it repeatedly. They build the fire and the two lovers explain themselves as to why they were hiding this, and then how Hansel reacted.
“Hansel, why did you scream when you saw me?” Kramia asked him. Hansel sighed, and prepared his answer.
“Back when I was in Russia as a Tiger I gunner, I used to not fear you, or anything you had, it would bounce off the Tiger’s armor. Then, that changed, obvious enough, in the closing days of Operation Citadel. We were in the south group, the reserves that were to advance past the main force once the defensives were gone, and we were met by a whole division of T-34s and I didn’t know but also T-34-85s. We were warned of you 85s, that they can puncture our Tiger’s frontal armor, but no one in our regiment had seen one and lived to describe it, anyway, we came down a hill crest, and tried to plow right through.” Hansel starts growing darker in tone, and holds back his full emotions, “I’ll never forget that sight, I can still see that tank jump as it fired, then it went blank. I hit my head on the sights and slipped out of mind, I thought I was dead, but I awoke to see Karl the loader painted against the inside, and Brüno our commander dead and missing a leg, Erwin the driver wasn’t responding, and Whacker was passed out snoring at the radio, my legs where torn up and Whacker’s left arm was too, the shot went straight through the mantle on the loader’s side, and exploded. That 88 gun receiver is the only reason I’m alive. The next thing I know is I feel like we’re moving, but Erwin wouldn’t respond, then I wake up and I’m being hauled up through the cupola hatch by German medics. I just wish to see Erwin again, to thank him for saving my life, for saving Adam’s life.” Hansel gestures toward Whacker, who’s asleep at the radio, “For saving our lives.” Hansel can’t hold back any longer, the day was too emotional that he started to cry. Marion hugged him tight.
“What was the Tiger’s number?” Rommel asks as if he had just had a realization.
“3-3-1, why?” Rommel smiles open mouth still, showing his sharp panther mimicking teeth arrangement.
“Because I was there, you were a special Tiger to roll in; the fact that only two of the five man crew was warm to the touch still was interesting…” Hansel stopped crying and looked Rommel in the eyes begging him to elaborate what it meant. “Yes, sadly Erwin the driver was long dead.”
Hansel started trembling, all along his first deployment protector and destroyer was alive. Hansel sat in sheer amazement; he was on that thing for a year-and-a-half and not once did he ever think it be living, same for Marion but she came out after a month of Hansel talking to her unknowingly, he wondered, was it a male or female, what was its personality traits, why this, why that, but one thought kept popping up: why did it save us? Marion’s told him how hard it is to run solo when she first tried, and that moving through mud was almost impossible without Banker or a driver working the engine and controls, so why did it put forth so much effort? Then a familiar voice pipes up.
“What do we have here?” Edwards, awakened Irish, Inbred, and Anton snap to the position of attention. The Lt. Colonel was here. Hope fled from Rommel’s eyes, Kramia knew the stories of him, and sunk as well.
“Five German tanks and a group of crewmen. And. One. Russian. Tank.” They all sunk, they knew he’d have her out within the week, no the next 24 hours, Munich had factories. Rommel started to weep.
“Now, you all know me, I’m strict, by the book, up-tight, a cold bastard, right? But take this to mind, all men have breaking points, where they can’t take it at all, the last straw so-to-say, and this straw is more like a broom, and said broom is up my ass.” The group knew what was to be done with a captured weapon: disassembly.
“And that broom can ram all it wants but that won’t stop me from fucking its ass hole!” The group was stunned; did the strictest man on base just say fuck you to the book? “I accept this, and the Colonel has no authority under the field of captured weapons, so my say goes, and you are free to do as the other tanks may do. My only condition is be prepared to get a fresh coat of paint, and say good-bye to those ugly red stars, have a good night everyone” With that he left and went to his quarters.
Rommel and Kramia rejoiced, she began jumping up and down excitedly using her torsion-bar suspension. The others breathe a sigh of relief, and Whacker finally wakes up due to Kramia and flips shit when he sees her, similar to Hansel, and buttons up his hatch and sits inside Marion until they persuade him otherwise. Kramia tries as well, using his name which freaks him out even more, HOW THE FUCK DOES IT KNOW MY NAME! Eventually he calms down and opens up the hatch, and then they go on about how he missed the best thing to happen at the base yet. The two lovers cuddle, and whisper to each other, all anyone else hears is tomorrow night, after the pretty paint is done, then Mini-Rommel perks up and is as energized as Anton, who must have given it all to him because he passes out on Faust’s head those two call it, a.k.a. turret as the other call it.
Fin Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Early the next morning, Mini-Rommel was awoken by an excited Kramia, she couldn’t contain herself, overjoyed at the fact she was accepted into Mother Russia’s most bitter rival’s tank division without a hitch! She was bouncing on her suspension and rocking side to side, eager to get fully appointed to Mini’s side of the war, once Mini finally woke up fully, he looked to Kramia and acknowledged her energy level and was answered by their first French kiss. Mini was shocked at first, then let it happen and closed his eyes and returned his half to her, their tongues pushed by each other, lovingly caressing and moving around each other in the other’s mouth. Kramia found his lips to be softer than they appeared and his mouth warm and welcoming, while Mini felt Kramia’s lips as full, tender, and pleasant and her mouth warm and, like her tongue, very caressing and active. They savored one another for what felt to them as forever, they then slipped back and withdrew from the kiss, and just smiled at each other. They sat in quiet embracing each other with their manipulators and up against each other enjoying their company, Mini had to hold back his awoken lust for her excited by the kiss, ti was demanding to be met, but he resisted, it was too early and they were outside awaiting the painters to show up any minute. Then along comes the tank group, the group forms their usual circle, and Hansel, Anton, Inbred and Irish show up with painting utensils and supplies.
“So, you guys are my painters?” Kramia asks them, who nod their heads yes, “Are they good?” She asks the tanks.
“My two painted me,” Marion responds, proud of their work, “Same for me,” Faust says as she opens a can of paint for Anton who insists on himself using the crowbar to open it.
“To the best of his supplies’ abilities.” Says Jäger, as she looks at Irish with a ‘you’ve-got-to-be-fucking-stupid’ face. The paint he opened was completely solid, a whole gallon of paint dry, and he was holding it upside down smacking the bottom of it for a reason unclear to anyone else.
“Damnit Irish! This is why we can’t have nice things!” Edwards says, yanking the paint can form him.
“No this is why we can’t have things.” He replies as he takes it back, then chucking it off to the distance. “Well there’s no yellow.”
“We weren’t going to use yellow; we’re making her look like Rommel.” Hansel answers as he dips his brush in the paint and starts painting the frontal glacis. Anton exclaims he can do this and climbs all around Kramia painting the outline of his color, a darker green, and in two minutes has outlined the green placement for the whole tank. Curious Inbred, who has to paint over the base colors with his small amount of yellow paint for the spots and slashes, asks her of their production methods.
“To simply put it imagine a crushed ant mound” Inbred looks at her with a face of ‘how-dare-you-think-I-want-a-simpleton’s-answer and she begins to elaborate in her hyped up and comic mood. “We Russians like to mass produce everything, and the way I could describe it to you is this: picture a giant catapult sitting in the front of a factory, now that catapult is the supplier of tanks to the front lines, and the factory is just streaming out tanks, and the catapult launches them: T-34, T-34, T-34, BOX of T-34s, T-34, T-34, and so on.” The time of explaining the T-34s being launched she was using one of her manipulator arms as a figure for a catapult arm, jerking it up at every T-34 then resetting it, then describes the KVs as getting stuck at the factory doors because they’re too fat and the tank destroyers begging to be sent to the front but being denied. As she tells of the battle tactics of Russia (just shoot/kill/both them) Marion notices Irish’s can is rusty.
“Hey Irish, your paint can looks rusted through, you might want to secure it better.”
“Naw, it’ll be just fine, see?” He shakes the can up and down strongly, it holds for a while then as he is coming to his final sections the bottom falls along with all the paint, everyone laughs as Irish tries to scrape paint off the inside of the remaining can.
“The retardation, it surrounds you Irish!” Edwards cries as he laughs uncontrollably, “I’m not the brightest tool in the shed, okay?” Irish responds as he starts to join in with the others. Inbred makes a remark correcting the phrase, then he accidentally knees his half-filled can of yellow paint, the bottom flies off sending the paint all over his legs.
“THE RETARDATION IS SPREADING!” At this remark Kramia’s gun drops as low as it can go and she laughs so hard it sounds like muffled gasps for air. They started painting again, with what was left of the paint; the last section to be painted was the rear glacis and engine exhaust covers and pipes. As they started painting, Mini noticed that when the brushes stroked the exhaust covers, Kramia looked like she was excited, sexually excited, they’ve never had sex before, but he knew when she was horny and vice-versa. He took note on that sensitivity, he couldn’t help but grin. Two years they’ve loved each other, and today they finally had their first real kiss, and tonight have their first intercourse, they looked at each other and held each other’s hand. Inbred took the black paint and brush to outline the cross on the sides of the turret, then he plants the brush between the hands of Mini-Rommel and Kramia.
“I feel that you should do the honors.” He says then backs away. The two try to fill in the outline to the best of their abilities but can’t help but chuckle at the pitiful attempt to be perfect. They fuck it up of course but she doesn’t care and insists on letting it be. “It’ll be our little mark.” She declares.
“Now all she needs is some extra skirt armor and the assimilation will be complete.” Irish says in a malicious way, along with a creepy and disturbing smile as he looks toward an abandoned metal-can house. “Damnit Irish, you and your creepy shit!”
A small group of them go to the shack to collect and plan out the placement and arrangement of the skirts, the only ones that don’t go are Marion, Hansel, Mini-Rommel, Faust, Jäger, Fritz, and the Colonel, who has the tendency to appear out of nowhere. He startles those still not accustomed to his random drop, and once the appropriate greetings are over he makes an announcement:
“You may have noticed that we’ve been starting to get a lot of sentiment machines lately, and I would like to explain the significance of it.” He says in his usual typical Colonel voice, pipe in place, “It’s no coincidence we started out with an unusual amount of living tanks, they’ve popped up before, the first one I met was with your father actually, Captain Walter, she was a A7V named Elfriede, shame that the Brits got ahold of her. Anyway, we’ve been designated as the battalion of the living tanks, and pretty soon a flood of new living machines from all fronts should be showing up, a Marder II, a Grillie, two Hummels, some StuG IIIs, a Pz. III, a Tiger, a JägdPanther, more Pz IVs, there’s more I just can’t remember them all right now. Many of them are from special groups so; things might get a little weird.” And with that he left, but then turns around and yells: “Looks like the Tiger’s here now!” Then he continues on.
“That one was special,” Mini says with a large grin after spotting it, Hansel leans around him, “Only two warm bodies.” With that Hansel’s legs felt shredded and an unbearable pain was felt for the second time. 3-3-1 was painted on the turret storage box. He almost fainted, fell, but not quite fainted. Whacker on the other hand, who noticed Kramia’s disappearance and decided to come out of hiding, went wide eyed, dropped his jaw open, and ate shit. Hansel struggles to get up, staggers over to Whacker, fumbles to get a good hold still staring at the red 331 outlined in white, then he proceeds to drag Whacker like a dead body to their life saver from all that time ago. When they get to the huge side of the tank, Whacker looks up and seems to be at the verge of crying, he learned not too long ago that the tank was alive. Hansel is amazed and an unbelieving grin takes the replacement form of the awe-inspired one.
“We know your there,” He began, looking like he’s insane talking to a tank that appeared as a non-living. “We know what you did for us, it’s me, Hansel Walter, and this, this is Adam Kirkman. We’re all grown up now, you don’t have to hide anymore, we can take it,” He began to lose hope, he thought there’s been a long time from then to now, and it was pretty beaten, is this, a rebuild? He started to retreat within himself again, when Whacker burst out in a crying manner “SPEAK DAMN IT! WE’RE TRYING TO THANK YOU YOU COLD BASTARD!”
“Hey, better watch what you’re yelling to,” A female said, the two men perked up, thinking it was the Tiger, but instead it was the driver opening up the hatch, the two retreated back to depression. “Someone of upper stature may think you as crazy.” The two men were about to say something, but the woman started commanding them to get away and threatening them, for neither of them were wearing a uniform to show they outranked her, then a deep male voice sounds. “Stop, they’re with me, we go back.” Whacker starts to cry again, Hansel is awestruck again. The woman seems shocked and asks how, apparently he told them that he never had a crew, they were his first.
“I’m sorry, but I’ve lied to you about my previous deployment. This is Hansel Walter, my former gunner, and Adam Kirkman, my former hull gunner. I never revealed myself, to them, I was ordered to for you to help inspire confidence get you all battle ready, and to be an effective team as soon as possible, these two here are the only survivors of my previous crew. After I was shot in the mantel on the loader’s side, it went off incinerating the loader, ripping off the commander’s leg leading him to bleed to death, shrapnel shredded Hansel’s legs and Adam’s left arm and shoulder, and ripped my driver’s neck in half. While these two were unconscious I pulled myself to the nearest outpost and got them medical treatment. I planned to reveal myself to them, to tell them personally what happened, but I never saw them again.” Adam was crying, and sitting against one of Tiger’s outer road wheels while Hansel stood next to him patting him on the back. “I feel like I’m interrupting now, I apologize most sincerely, I’ll let you three have time alone to catch up.” With that the driver left, they sat in quiet for about five minutes, then Tiger explained what happened after them, basically his new deployment as part of a full female tank crew. All pretty attractive he boasts. “Lucky bastard…” Whacker finally says, Tiger chuckles, “At least you haven’t changed, Adam.”
They talk for hours, Hansel talks about his new role, Marion, Tiger brings up that he is also in a human relationship, but doesn’t say exactly who. Funny, even when we know his greatest kept secret he keeps us in the dark. Whacker thought, then he brings up his thoughts, the new crew he’s with on Marion, then they all talk about past times, the new faces on the base, Hansel explains the T-34-85 that is scaring both Whacker and Tiger to death almost, and eventually calms them down when Kramia and Mini-Rommel engage in a long, long, really long kiss, which makes Hansel think the cause of that kiss may indicate, realizes it and turns bright red in embarrassment, and amusement, while Whacker is still thinking of trusting her or not. Tiger’s face is not like Marion’s obviously, his eyes are more like Jäger’s in that they are mounted forward, not on the angled side like Marion or Fritz, his is on the mantle above the gunner’s sight and equally spaced on the other side of his 88 gun, his mouth is also not under the gun, but under the mantle, so it’s on the underside of the gun mount’s overhang. At about 9:00 P.M., they break away, and go their separate ways; Whacker goes to mess hall then his bunk while Hansel goes to Marion. She asks him about the Tiger I, if he had a nickname, Hansel didn’t even ask, too late now he says and they start talking lovingly. Meanwhile, the two sly lovers slip away in the night, all the while French kissing, their seemingly new thing, to fulfill their promises to each other the night before.
Fin Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Kramia and Mini were locked in a long, sensual and sexual kiss; once they pulled away they eyed each other in the eye, silently thinking the same thing. They have developed such strong bonds they think the same, and can have a whole conversation with one another silently by just looking into their eyes’ and thinking about the subject, a sort of telepathy. Under the cover of mostly darkness, the two turn in a certain direction, and drive off together quietly, holding and kissing each other fondly. They break through the trees and come across a trail that looked so natural only a surveyor could possibly tell the difference between a natural and this unnatural trail, they get to a small opening, enclosed on all by dense forests, and they finally talk. Dirty.
“Oh I’m going to fuck you so hard tonight!” Mini exclaims in his Russian voice, which he’s quite fluent in.
“Is that so? Compared with what I’ll do to you I’ll have to drag you back!” Kramia says in her excellent German speech. Tempting him with sly movements away from him, they move around the perimeter like they were stalking each other.
“It’ll be borderline rape, my dear-”
“Prove it then!” She does an immediate one-eighty spin and thrusts her hind quarters upward, revealing her purged lips from the nether region. Mini is mystified, he never thought it’d look that good, the way the moon hit her seam made the silver-gray metal sheen and sparkle, probably because she was extremely wet, but still, the way it split was magnificent. There was perfect symmetry with the halves; its shape looked like a connected exclamation mark, the profound clit at the bottom forming the dot, the placement was in the center of the rear lower glacis plate, different from German tanks because theirs is under the hull, however the armor plates used to protect it aren’t as thick as Kramia’s. She turned her turret to look at him out of the corner of her eye.
“What’s wrong? Russian got you cat?” She was making fun out of his tank name, Panther, when she did, he snapped out of his trance, and rolled up to her hind where she lowered it, and awaited him to mount. He mounted with ease, simply rolling onto the sloped upper portion using it as a ramp, no jumping was needed. He moved until he was ready, and released his strengthened member from its housing, and pressed it against her lips then proceeding to stroke up and down, feeling her hot lips on his end, all his for the taking, she was moaning, and revving her engine, turning both of them on and horny even more, his cock grew harder and longer than it ever has before, shocking Mini at first, jolting him when it started painfully throbbing and demanding penetration. He smiled as he remembered her sensitive area; he let many of his manipulators, most without hands or ‘stubbies’ as he calls them, caress, fondle, sooth and stimulate her two exhaust pipes and their armored casings.
“Ahhhh, deeper Mir, go deeper…” Kramia let out in a low sigh, the joy the exhaust outlets were having made her diesel sound off loud and proud, all the while Mini was still stroking her pussy lips with his throbbing cock. He did go deeper, two of his stubbies slithered into her two exhaust pipes, one each, and trekked in a spiral deeper towards her engine block, she was growing hotter and hotter, and her cries were louder and louder. He reached out with one outside and stroked her left cheek, she grabbed his palm with one of hers and gripped it tight, painfully almost, she loved this! Her pipes were stuffed, she felt him pushing against the pipes, expanding them while they were hot and malleable, his dick was at her split, rubbing her lips against her cold plating, pinching them, sending waves of sensations to her, his grip on hers is warm and comforting. It started to drizzle, then he reached her engine, she ceased up immediately and gasped in short quick breaths, he knew she had enough of that and pulled his arms back. He didn’t want to turn her off; he hasn’t fucked her yet…
Hansel and Marion watched as Kramia and Mini drove off to the woods, Hansel drifted to the sky; cloudy, but still beautiful with a bright moon and stars shining down. Marion asked about his former host, the Tiger, about his story. Hansel told her about his assignment, and he figured is how he, Hansel, was purposely put in command of a living tank for a reason, because he apparently already had experience before with such topics. Marion asked about how he’s doing now, and Hansel explains his new station of being a mentor for a tank crew of just female tankers, and how he’s in a relationship with one. The thought of how sex would play out for them excited Marion, she ignored most of what Hansel was saying and was eyeing his body, and slowly backing up toward the tree line so Hansel, still gazing at the stars, wouldn’t notice. She feels herself hit a tree on her rear, and stops and starts seducing Hansel, her favorite pastime, and is quite effective what with days of practice because there was nothing to do helping. They start stripping Hansel as the clouds roll in the night sky and release their payload down upon them.
Hansel is half naked when Marion curses and beckons him inside her turret to hide from the rain, not wanting him to get muddy in a real fuck, where he’d be under her in the mud sloshing about, that’d be really hard to cover up. He plants himself on his commanding seat and lets Marion’s internal manipulators surround him, Marion is still horny, and is very hard to sway away. She sneaks two handless manipulators into his pants, one from the bottom of his right pant leg, the other from his waistband, they meet at the groin, and stroke Hansel’s half-hardened penis to wake it up again while two handed manipulators undo his pants fly. Hansel quickly catches on when the two in his pants pops his stiffened cock out the fly. Marion wraps the two handless ones around his dick, and lets a handless one down at her sensitive region emerge and circle her clit.
“Wait, this isn’t fair, I get all the fun!” Hansel states rhetorically.
“No I owe you, remember last night?” Marion reassures him; he looks down and shakes his head.
“No, no, no, you don’t owe me for that. I’m sure of it, you don’t owe me.”
She proceeds anyway, the upper manipulator arm tightens up to get a better grip, and starts running up and down the shaft, slow at first, to test the range she can pull either way, once she has that down, she picks up the pace. Down under, Marion’s little friend is lubed up from her own juices and is racing up and down her lips, and circling her clit, and occasionally popping in for a relube and for sheer amusement, on Hansel’s end she grips hard and jerks fast, Marion’s been holding onto Hansel’s hands for a while now, and she can feel his grip tightening, and his back and legs squirming, her own actions are producing similar reactions from her, and she picks up the pace even more until she is doing what Hansel is doing: gripping, shuddering and squirming, and taking short gasps and sighs in quick intervals.
“I can’t last much more-” He gasps out, “Where’s it going?”
“I don’t give a fuck.” She blurts out fast, also heightened to the verge of her climax.
Hansel cums right after that, letting out a long sigh and a deep breath, then he leans over to his left against the inside of the turret, Marion starts squeezing his body tighter, Hansel blurts out Marion’s constraining him then he realizes she’ll be done soon, so he takes in a deep breath while he can and holds it, letting Marion constrict him like a python and continue to beat away at his meat. She doesn’t last all that much longer, she suddenly stops shuddering and releases, both pressure in her vagina and in her suspension, hydraulics, and grip on Hansel and his softening member, realizing he finished and was beating a horse’s dead meat. As she sinks to the ground, to lie and rest on her hull belly, she brings up:
“So… if I don’t owe you… wouldn’t you now… owe me?” She says, taking heavy breaths between every phrase. Hansel nods and agrees, both exhausted Hansel clears out what life support gear was left in the back of the turret and curled up in a ball to sleep in the space, Marion’s arms as a blanket and a sleeping roll as a pillow.
“I wonder how the other two are doing…” Marion asks in a perky mood, trying to start a late-night conversation.
Mini pulled out the stubbies and had them circle Kramia’s exhaust pipe opening, restarting her lustful engine and prompting her back to her previous sexual level. He paused with the stroking, and pulled back, causing Kramia to protest, but her cries turned from pleading no to pleading more, as he thrusts inside her and comes across her plush wall. He probes it waiting for Kramia to move it, he knew that female tanks can move it to prevent pregnancy, or at least German tanks can…
“Kramia, are you going to move it?” He asks as he plucks at it.
“What my cervix? No we can’t move that, what made you think we could?” She asks him, he answers that the German tank designer told Jäger this while on the eastern front. “Well I can’t! Besides… I’ve heard great things if you’d just push on…” She says seducing, Mini can’t stand being half in and out, so he pushes on through, evoking a pleasured groan from Kramia, and the best sensation Mini’s ever felt in his existence. She was soft, but firm, tight, yet loose, she had a sort of softness on the outer layer that moved like a case then a firm and constricting layer underneath, creating a blend of feelings that merged together under the awesome amount of heat and soaking conditions. He felt trickles of her wet liquids run down the exposed areas of his cock, and felt them go into his seam for his member’s housing, and it set off an alarm.
“Kramia, there’s nothing to stop me from impregnating you is there?” He asked concerned
“No, please don’t… I don’t want to be put out of service on day one. Please don’t let it happen!” She begs, confidently however, knowing she can trust him.
“I won’t, precious.” He answers as he begins pumping in and out of her, every thrust into the cervix releases a loving moan or groan or yelp from the both of them. He pounds her and pounds her, hard and fast, so good Kramia’s eyes rolled back and she started to drool a little. One of Mini’s manipulators found her clit amidst the ramming, and proceeded to circle it, compress it, grip it, anything that made Kramia moan more, then he started to feel it coming on, he slowed the pace and power, letting Kramia regain her wits and figure out what she wants next from him.
“Kramia… I-I-I’m closssse… I neeeed to stop!” With that he retracts out, and lets his pressure subside, while he did that, Kramia set him up for her onslaught.
“My turn, baby dear.” She backs up do a wide and deep ditch, still carrying Mini on her back, and dumps his ass into the ditch, leaving him stuck, and nose to the sky, while his dick sticks out proudly. Kramia gets a glimpse of it, it looked so mighty and powerful, long and wide, a silver metallic casing covered with little sensors and at the tip, a vertical slit for their future children to claim their spot in the world, she thought. The base merged into something inside the hull, still closed off on the inside, she backed up to his shaft, and pressed the underside against her loosened seam, squeezing it between the hulls where she slid a couple of her manipulators into the base slit.
“Well, well, what are these you’re hiding from me?” She found his testicles, and was pulling and pushing them around inside their hull housing. Mini can’t see anything she’s doing with his body in the way.
“Those are my balls, p-please be gentle…” He shuddered and stammered, protective of his sensitive sack, being pricked and probed around inside him, the feeling was eerie; he gave in to her tugs, and opened enough for his sack to slip out. For now.
“Now I can start.” Up and down she slides, pressing against his hull belly and sandwiching his member in the middle, pulling the seed pipes and tubing up, in turn pulling the attached testicle sack up with her motions, and then dropping the package down back to place. After a few repetitions the manipulators holding his testes released and retracted, and he discretely slipped them back inside, safe and sound. Kramia continued in her grinding, every once and a while the grip would slip, letting his member deeper inside by a centimeter or two, then after an unknown amount of time, it slipped again only the rain water built up with her wet oils sent his whole package inside her and was pressing hard on the roof of her vagina. They were taken by surprised and took in a quick gasp of air, then sat there for a moment until she rolled forward, to set the bent-up member to its more natural shape then rushed back on it, almost tipping Mini onto his turret. Once he was inside her cervix, she gripped tight, and rocked to and fro, pulling him with her; the fine movements between their two sensitive parts sent both of them into another world of stimulation with their engines humming in an idle as this was the only noise uttered by them while they thought to each other.
“Kramia I need to pull out!” Mini suddenly snaps back to reality and feels how close he is.
“Mmmmm, just a little more…-” She says still entranced, Mini flips out at how close he is and uses all his manipulators to throw her off his approaching orgasm. She’s shocked back once he throws her, not far, only a foot from his tip, but is enough to send her to reality, she spins her turret around in haste when he releases a pleasured moan, to see a trickle of seed come out, the moonlight made it appear like platinum, it looked irresistible… As Mini rambles on apologizing for the near impregnation, Kramia turns around licking her ‘lips’ and coldly staring at his gleaming erection. She draws closer to it, and as she does she slowly lowers her suspension until her chest is scraping the ground.
“One way or another, you’re cumming inside me!” She says as she grabs his cock and pulls it inside her mouth, Mini was about to ask what she meant when he felt the sensation of being inside her mouth. She pulled him in deep, bending his dick downward to fit it into her mouth and throat with considerable comfort overriding any pain. He’s breath taken as she begins to suck and swallow her own saliva, her throat pumping and pulling the upper portion of his cock down deeper and creating most emphasis on his head, while Kramia’s tongue wrapped around and tasted his mid-shaft, her lips and some manipulators pulling on his lower shaft, sort-of jerking him off inside her mouth, enjoying the mix of herself and him as a taste, still awaiting his creamy treat to be distributed. He was still pressurized from the last scare, so she didn’t have to wait long for him to announce his near arrival, where she retracted him, leaving only the head inside, and used her manipulators to jerk him off then to milk him. He released with force, pulling back on Kramia, who lurched forward to keep him inside, and let his moan of appreciation sound the woods. Kramia felt his hot molten goodness spread against her mouth, he shot it like a shotgun, and while she milked some out in a steady fashion, her tongue cleaned up her mouth, tasting his cream, letting it tingle her cheeks and tongue. As he pulls out thinking he finished, a sporadic bust surfaced, and shot a stream to her right cheek then a thick bunch drooped down to her glacis chest. She traced it up with a finger, and happily dispensed it to her mouth.
She goes to help him down as he puts away his tired beast, she backs up to his right flank and grabs his hull overhang of the track cover. He notices she’s still open and hasn’t finished, one way or another, YOU’RE going to cum inside me, as she pulls him on his side into a wider portion of the ditch, he rights himself up, grabs her rear drive wheels, and pulls her gorgeous wet pussy to his gun mantle, where he dropped his gun and put it to the right, and positioned her just right for the best contact of lips-to-lips. She instantly realizes what he’s doing and lets him control her, unable to see the best placement. He awkwardly smiles as he lurches his lips onto hers, and sucks away, trying to get as much juice out of her, she tastes normal, almost the same as he tastes his saliva, only her juices are warmer, slicker, and has an enjoyable kick to it. He feels she’s had enough of that, and retracts his lips and sends forth his long pointed tongue, to break her warm doors open and infiltrate her warmth. He gets the same taste but different feel, she’s looser than when they started, and this makes exploring easy, he goes right to the rumored G-spot is, and isn’t misinformed of its whereabouts, her engine sparks up immediately and her suspension goes limp. She slams onto the deck of his hull and lets all control go.
“You like that, don’t you Kramia?”
“Oh yes I do, I do, I do so MUCH!”
“Don’t withhold anything; let your body be free.”
With that he plunges back in, and hatches an idea, he sends one of his stubbies to fondle the shit out of her clit. Her overexcited engine and screams of joy approve this. She was calmed down from her last penetration but the fast toying of her G-spot AND her clit proved too much for her to handle. She came fast and in bursts, letting it out without a warning, not like Mini cared. He let it splash onto his face, into his mouth, and it spread to the top of his mantle to his turret ring. He was warmed, and rejoiced by it; she slowly hauled herself off him, and watched him climb out of the ditch.
“Shall we be off to camp for a good night’s sleep?” He asked her.
“Yes, at least the rain will wash us clean.” She said back.
They drove off, holding each other lovingly. Kramia fell asleep halfway to camp, and left herself in neutral to allow Mini to carry her home. He softly chuckled as he spotted Marion fast asleep in the tree line.
“A good night for everyone.”
Fin Chapter 18
Well, that’s it for now, if Ratbat asks me to change the layout I will, it is quite long. If you have any feed back on how I may improve my writing I’m always open to feed back, what little I usually receive. Thank you for reading!