This post is long and absolutely packed with stuff.
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Ch 43
Time passed, time passed like a breeze, the German captives adjusted to the death, the pain, the feelings of traitors, and they were kept busy enough to have time slip by faster than ever. At any given point Hansel could tell exactly what he did the day before, but couldn’t tell you anything different. It all blurred into one, they all lost that drive to aspire, that drive to have their brains track exactly what they were doing. They were mindless drones doing the same routine again and again. That all changed when Bastogne was recaptured. The German tanks were sent out again, this time they knew who they were getting: Fritz and Jäger. They were found backed into a building, Jäger, in defiance of a mobile Sherman, threw her ass into a building to keep the Sherman away. By her face Marion knew she had been long ago defeated. Jäger’s face looked utterly gone, she was almost soulless, and her faceplate looked a bit paler in some weird way. She had a white cloth on her bow and Fritz wasn’t too far away, his added skirt armor was shredded away and Jäger had thrown hers away, they found it at the old campsite, probably in depression. Fritz was heavily battle damaged, he had been swarmed by Shermans in tight streets and he was easily shot with no retaliation, he gave up and white flagged when Jäger apparently refused to help. Fritz and his crew were by Jäger, all silent. They all looked defeated, but Jäger and Edwards looked worse off than all. Not the reunion of Marion or Rosa or their friends could help. Not even Mini, the first one to ever befriend her, could help.
“What else can we do to get to her? You’re her first friend!” Marion exclaimed in anguish. She really hated not being able to help.
“Actually,” Mini said solemnly as he thought of what may have happened, “Irish was her first friend.” Just mentioning Irish made her lips quiver and her eyes tear up. With that they turned to Edwards and Fritz.
“It wasn’t too long ago. It started when there was another bombing raid or artillery or some other pussy form of combat. Either way one caught Jäger’s crew. None of them made it. She was nearly useless then, she doesn’t know how to use herself, only knows how to fire and aim and move. She was messed up bad by that, she clung to me and Irish with all the hope she had. We tried helping her, E as well, so did Edwards, but the only ones who could perk her were myself and Irish.”
“Were, as in, you could?” He nodded. “What happened?” …
“Jäger, come on Jäger we gotta go!” Irish yelled out as he threw on his jacket, Fritz was trying to push her away from the center of the square. “Jäger move your ass! They’re coming!”
“Who?” She asked halfheartedly. She was still depressed but she was talking, at least.
“The allies!” E pulled out of her cubbie of rubble and turned around, she boosted Irish up onto her turret.
“You two can take them.” She slurred out.
“We can’t kill planes!” Edwards yelled, he was mounting the dual MGs onto Fritz’s gun slide above the Cupola. “Move your asses!”
“Fine! Fine! I’ll move!” She gave in and pushed off, Fritz pushed her up to twenty-two kilometers an hour.
“Thank you, baby!” Fritz yelled. E had better mobility than both of them despite her excessive armor and hurriedly took to the lead of the three. Irish was sitting ‘heads up’ in his commander’s cupola.
“Don’t worry E, I’ve never been hit by a plane and I never will, we’ll make it.” He calmed her, the three races out towards the tree line to disappear into the foliage. They came to another square, it had a huge fountain in the middle and a tight turn, E ran into the fountain and turned, the brick and mortar wedged into her tracks. It slowed her down. She was just getting over the fountain when the worst pain she’s ever had hit her in the ass. It was to the right of her engine, just below the vents and radiators. It hit her fuel tank. Unbeknownst to them an American M5 three inch anti-tank gun burrowed into the rubble and hidden behind foliage that had just had the luckiest penetration in history. Fire erupted from her engine deck and the ruptured fuel tank, E panicked, Jäger watched and panicked, Irish instantly went in to go through the back hatch and put out the flames when E stopped him. He strained to help her, but she cried no. She was dragging him out of the hatch, he restrained, and he cried that he wasn’t leaving her, he wouldn’t leave her.
“Irish!” She yelled over him, getting his attention. “Irish you have to leave! You can’t stay, I won’t let you! Live on! Go!” He still refused; she had her turret turned over her flank and tears streaming down her turret. She brought him to her lips and they locked into a kiss. Jäger, Fritz, and Edwards were surprised by this, the whole time the two were bickering, at each other’s throats, completely unlikely. Once they unlocked E smacked his Walther P38 into his hand and thrusted him at Jäger. Jäger caught him and held him tight, E commanded they leave now. They obeyed.
They circumvented that street and escaped into the woods. The planes made their runs and left, they started off back to the base. On the way Irish was extremely distraught, Jäger had him on her engine deck and Fritz was pushing her. Edwards and Fritz were watching him closely, everyone was. He kept eying the Walther; he examined it, smiling randomly. “Fritz,” Edwards said, “is there a mag in that pistol?” Just then Irish chambered the pistol with a huge grin on his face. Edwards’s heart raced and he was about to lunge when Fritz held him back.
“No.” Irish instantly turned the pistol upside down and stuck his finger down the mag well. He fingered it until he had pulled out a folded card, he unfolded it. It was a picture of him and E, before they expressed themselves to each other. It was right before they left for Prinz Eugen, in the picture Irish was smiling and so was E. Genuinely smiling. Irish tucked the pistol away and looked into E’s eye in the picture. It was a small corner shot of her left flank with himself atop her in the commander’s cupola, in view was her armored skirt, a slim shot of the tracks and the sprocket, and it ran as far back as behind the turret ring and as far forward as the lamp on her bow. He loved that picture; she looked so beautiful in the picture and so happy. He knew leaving her was a mistake, he couldn’t leave her alone like that; he was going to make it right and go back to her. He vowed to return to her and to be with her for whatever may come. Once they returned to base he stood up and hopped off Jäger’s stern. He walked in front of Jäger so that she could see him and said goodbye. His face gave away his intention, Jäger was hurting but she knew he would be hurting much more than she would be. She hugged him and let him go, he went and said his goodbye to Fritz and Edwards and walked off down the road. A squad of riflemen raised their rifles towards his back.
“Shoot him and I’ll crush you slowly beneath my treads.” Jäger boomed dark and serious as ever. The infantry instantly lowered their rifles. Tears were streaming down her face; she had lost her first friend. As he disappeared into the white Jäger lost it, she ripped off her extra armored skirts in a fit of anger and threw them down. She retreated into herself, she hid inside her mind. She went silent from then on, and as the memory of her first friend walking into the white nothingness engraved itself forever onto her memory she clutched herself where he painted her name in bold letters.
JÄGER
Edwards was hurt bad, too, the two of them went all the way back to Irish’s first assignment. Back when he was known by his name, back when he worked with the artillery more than anything, back when the war was victorious. Back when war was nothing but a march through a foreign country. Now, now it’s a hellish struggle of man and machine verses man and machine. A bloody and seemingly fruitless fight to the death and for what? Edwards thought. For a mad man with a temper. He concluded…
“That’s how we’re here. That’s why she is like this.” Fritz leaned into her; he held her and tried his best to comfort her. “You didn’t find them dead, did you?” Jäger looked desperate once he said that, she visibly shook with fear, she moved out of the rubble crawling towards Marion and Hansel. She said the first thing she’s said in days.
“Please!?” They all looked to each other; a Major near with them said that Hansel and Marion have been on absolutely every recovery mission of German armor.
“We haven’t found anything.” The Major’s face suddenly lit up.
“We found the only thing that could have done that! An M5 gun and its crew were in the rubble of a parliament building. They had only a few shots left. They might have done it.” He suddenly regretted telling them that. Jäger’s face begged for more. “Yeah there was a fountain in the view; it was fucked up, too. Big tank ripped it to shit. But no tank anywhere. Just a half track in the road.” Jäger’s face brightened, hope of a sort came back to her. She trembled with excitement and grabbed onto Fritz. One of her arms came across an injury of his, a Sherman shell lodged into his armor, without any remarks she ripped it out to his pain and put it on his deck.
“Now what about us?” Fritz asked. “Are we scrap?”
“No.” The Major said. “Neither you or that female Panther A we found earlier will be scrapped. None of you. With you and the Panther A you will both be conditioned to repair yourselves, to heal.” With that Edwards and his crew were marched back to the American base as POWs and Jäger and Fritz were escorted back as experiments.
The Americans pushed harder, kicking German ass out of France and taking heavy casualties at the same time. The Germans were brought up as well, doing their usual tasks, and they came across the wrecks of their old friends more and more. Eryka and Inbred were the next ones to be captured. Eryka had no ammunition for her 15 centimeter and no fuel. They said that it was all down to the wire, that the end was close for the living machine battalion. More destruction ensued. The Hummels were found, the sister pregnant with the only surviving crew member’s baby, the brother extremely unhappy with the pregnancy followed closely by the Marder II, and then it died down for three days. On the fourth day the battalion was done for. Marion and the German tanks capable and trusted were moved to the front to sway the rest to come peacefully. They came across Hetz flipped and Aston under her bow soothing her worries. More tanks, then they came upon the worst one yet. Frau and Canine. They were together, but Frau was bawling, her left track was about eight meters behind her, claw marks in the ground showed how she struggled to get to Canine. He was dead. Canine’s turret had been blown off by an ammunition detonation. Frau was pleading with God for his return, she pleaded, and she didn’t care what it would cost him or her for him back. She pleaded, she cried, she bawled, she had lost him yet still refused to leave him. They left her there; they were all shocked how he was actually dead. His turret had his eyes shut, when Marion opened an eye lid a pale and blank eye returned the gaze. He was actually dead. They came upon Dora and Ferdi next, shortly Porscha after. Later, just outside of the next town they found Allison. She too, was dead. Many penetrations on her side and the fuel and the turret. Inside remnants of Major Idek were found. A shot had torn through Allison’s turret and obliterated his chest and stomach area. Nazi Idek was no more. Neither was his Nazi tank. When Marion opened her eyes she saw fear, pain, confusion, all wrapped and packed into her eyes. It chilled Marion. The Major, however, was quite interested in the tank. General Patton was sitting in his jeep while gas was being put in and the Major approached him with an offer.
“General Patton, sir.”
“Mornin’ Maj, how’re things with the Breathers?” Breathers was the nickname that the G.I.s gave to the living tanks, Rosa, Chuck, Tiger, Cindy, all of them were called Breathers.
“All is well, sir. That tank wreck there, sir. I want it.” General Patton looked at it, it was in too shit condition to be of any use outside of scrap or target practice. He turned back to the Major expecting a reason. “I want to keep that armor line in my factory, sir; I want that tank ’cause of the hell they raise and the shit they brush off.”
“So how do you want it?”
“Name a price, sir.” General Patton dropped his head back and thought, he knew the Major had a good pool of wealth, and that his car factory was making Sherman tanks for Uncle Sam.
“Uhh, I’ll sell it for six grand.” The Major reeled but accepted the price immediately. The Major arranged the payment and once it was settled out Patton gave orders to move Allison’s wreck to a specific location. “A pleasure doin’ business with ya.”
They pushed forth. The allies were far ahead of the next town, but Hansel knew this town. He felt the blind hatred, rage full and destructive super hatred. He felt pain and deprivation, he absolutely hated this place. He was sick terribly and he hadn’t even seen a map or looked out a viewport. He felt it. As Marion crossed the bridge and tried to comfort Hansel Meats exclaimed for Hansel. Four wooden crosses stood by the road, and by those crosses sat Faust. She was cheery, and fine, when Meats told him that Hansel grew disgusted, he grew furious towards her. He questioned how she could be alright with losing Anton and that’s when Meats said Anton was sitting on her roof. Hansel was in disbelief. He exploded out of the cupola and cried, cried like a baby. There, sitting atop her turret, was Anton. Waving as allied vehicles passed him. “Go Hansel,” was all Marion said. Hansel threw himself out of Marion, he ran towards Anton with open arms, Faust tossed Anton down and he ran to meet Hansel. Hansel wrapped around Anton bawling out his eyes and felt so relieved. It’s an indescribable feeling, knowing that you lost someone so dear to you only to see them alive and healthy before your eyes. Hansel wasn’t a man of God but at that moment he believed more than anything in miracles.
“Anton! Oh my God, Anton! ANTON!” Faust moved up to them with a smile on her face.
“I couldn’t believe it, either.” She pulled the two of them aside so they didn’t obstruct the flow of supplies to the front. Anton and Hansel dropped to their knees and after what seemed like forever did they release each other. Hansel’s face had become flushed red with emotion.
“How? Anton how? What happened?”
“Faust saved me, but that’s all I know.”
“That’s all he remembers, I’ve told him a few times.” Faust said before she started explaining what happened. “So as the fire was leaking into my cabin I felt Anton barging on his hatch but it wasn’t giving. I panicked, and I wrapped him up with everything I had. He was in a whole wrap of my arms when my few rounds exploded. The blast caught the others,” she paused and glanced at the four crosses, thinking of what she could have done to save them, “and so I saved Anton with my armored arms. I didn’t know that the blast had knocked him out and so as he was unconscious I thought he was dead. I held his throbbing body thinking it was just my arms reacting until he woke up that night.”
“Yeah,” Anton said sad, remembering what they did afterwards, “that’s when we collected the body parts and dug the graves.” Faust and he looked gloomy, Hansel never really met her crew, he sat next to her commander once during a briefing but that was all.
“We found him some clothes and some spare metal to fix me up.” Hansel didn’t even notice that Anton had changed clothes; he was in clothes that badly fit him and thus made him look like some teenager who lost his clothes, probably the reason why he wasn’t arrested by the Americans.
“He looks like shit.” Hansel said, pulling on the blue women’s blouse Anton was wearing. “Why did he change clothes?”
“I didn’t want anyone to come take him from me, and his clothes were dirty, I’m still washing them now.”
By then Marion had worked her way across the bridge and had gotten off to the side of the road. Hansel was trying to make Anton’s clothes not look so bad when he noticed Anton’s veins were darker like Inbred’s and he seemed heavier.
“Faust did you..?” Hansel wasn’t too sure how he liked this change on Anton. Faust explained she did it so that nothing could hurt him anymore. Hansel sat in silence, Inbred had been converted, and back before Cindy someone recommended it to Marion, but it was sketchy. Neither had the confidence in it. “So.., Anton, how do you feel?”
“Great!” He said, Hansel didn’t find anything different with his voice, it was excited and giddy as always. “I’m a little cold but look at me, I have no clothes.” Marion changed the subject.
“Faust you should hold on to Anton, soon the docs will find you and they might try to separate you.” Faust instantly grabbed Anton and pulled him up to her hood.
“No they are not.” She declared, she held Anton tight against her glacis plate and wrapped a blanket around him. She was adjusting the blanket and it made Anton look like an old hermit lady. The day Hansel introduced Marion to the others returned to his memory, his little witch voice. It’s been forever since he’s done that, he gave it a shot and sure enough he made his shrill little laugh. “What the-?”
“Sorry, just making sure I still had my witch laugh.” Marion shuddered with that painful memory of having to show herself. Hansel and Marion remember it very differently. Marion saw Cindy with a box of MREs on her back; she was whistling a tune until she saw Marion. She yelled out for Marion and raced her way across the bridge; she came to a stop just at Marion’s side and hugged her.
“Hi Cindy! Where’s Chuck and Katelyn?” Marion asked returning the hug.
“They’re in the back helping move trailers.” Cindy had grown attached to Katelyn and Chuck as family but she still entrusted Marion and Hansel with everything, they were still her immediate family in her eyes.
“Looks like your tracks don’t fit anymore, Cindy.” Faust said. She pulled on Cindy’s tracks, indeed they were loose and a little overlapping.
“Faust!” Cindy exclaimed, she jumped back and rolled into her side hugging her, too. “Yeah they’re my bigger ones. Chuck says I’ll fit ’em in a few months. Are you okay?” She backed away and looked at the shot hole in Faust’s side. It was just under her most rear return roller and had started healing and made visible progress.
“I’m fine, so is Anton.” Cindy looked confused.
“Isn’t he in heaven?”
“No, I’m right here!” He flipped off the blanket hood and showed her.
“Oh! Hi Anton!”
“Hello!” By this time Zwei had caught up with them. Geoff was playing with his little brother and Mez was asleep inside Zwei. Cindy noticed Zwei and introduced Zwei to Faust and Faust to Zwei. Zwei had met another Panzer IV before but it wasn’t like Faust with her extra armored skirts, it was only a Panzer IV G. They talked, Hansel reminisced in the fact Anton was alive, and Marion rested and talked with Cindy about Cindy’s ideas for making everyone happy. Marion pulled out a chunk of wood she’s been whittling and continued on with her project. Cindy saw it and asked.
“What’s that? Is that like what Hetz gave Aston?”
“Yes. I’m trying to make a cat like Franz, you remember Franz, right?”
“Yeah, it’s Fritz’s cat.” Saying his name made Cindy uncomfortable, even though he had only hurt her once it permanently scarred her mind. “What happened to Jäger? She was all sad and my hug didn’t help her.”
“She lost a friend. A very close friend.”
“Will she be alright? Who was her friend?”
“She’ll be fine after some time.”
“So who died?”
“Do you remember a man we called Irish?” Cindy’s face showed her thinking.
“I think so,” she thought harder, “he had red hair and was always with that tank that looked like you. E? Yeah. Is he dead?” Marion was silent.
“Who knows?” Cindy felt Marion’s discomfort; she hugged Marion thinking that her discomfort was sadness, it wasn’t. Instead of sadness it was confusion, confliction. Why didn’t we find them?
They had to push on. Faust was inspected by the doctors and her wounds were assessed, she was healing just fine. Rosa and Kramia were doing fine with their pregnancies and were being well fed. Mini personally donated his crushed armored skirts for Kramia and made sure she was always warm and her needs were fulfilled. Hansel had developed a little hobby of making note of their collection of German tanks captured; the most notable one who was not on the list was Griffin. Almost every tank by this time was captured in the allied advance or, sadly, killed off. He checked on where they were all going and the vast majority was going to a little village in France with a name none of them knew how to pronounce, even Canine’s remains are going there. Frau, as he learned, absolutely refused to leave his side, they had effectively become one tank. One night when Kramia drug Mini out to the woods for their time off it made Whacker feel uncomfortable and lonely. He wanted to talk to her and get any tips he can, maybe Mini, too. But in the end Kramia probably knows what Russian tank women want most. He tried his hardest to try to think of a way to talk to her about the subject without making it seem like he was trying to steal her from Mini. That was one of his worst fears, being accused of cheating or attempting to cheat. He thought and thought. He’d have to wait until Mini went off to bring it up so that he didn’t get defensive and so that Kramia could still keep some secrets from Mini. He got it all down packed before they came back.
He waited until the next day. Kramia wasn’t going to be checked for at least an hour after Mini so while Mini was going through his inspection Whacker brought it up with Kramia, she wasn’t at all offended or flattered. She was quite blunt with him, more than he anticipated, in actuality. “They’re most likely just looking for affection. All that alienation does its toll on them and they are more likely to flock to the affectionate person and flee their old ranks. That’s how Mir got me, he cared for me, supported me. That’s all you need to do is show that you care.” It made him happy. “But then again if there is someone they are with on the Russian side then they will be attached to them stronger than anything. So don’t rush in but rather test them, spark up a friendly conversation with them first. If they’re a little wayward towards you and they draw close to you then they are probably single.” With that she sent him off. “Shoo, shoo, figure the rest out yourself.”
Fin Ch 43