Hansel and Marion Ch 25 Meet the OTHER family!

This is the other half of my original chapter 24, enjoy this it’s not graphic in anyway, shape or form.

Chapter 25

The group moved swiftly and fell into a very small battalion formation. The orders went out and soon they were off as the sun broke over the hills. The caravan of tanks, trucks, and cars moved at a slower pace due to Jäger, she hated her poor mobility and wishes she could move swiftly. About an hour in she demanded that Fritz push her along, it helped but not enough for Jäger to not feel like a burden. The tank line up was E, Jäger, Fritz, Marion, Griffen, the dead-metal Tigers, Faust, Mini-Rommel and Kramia side-by-side, with various light-skinned vehicles in the middle of the tanks. Mini was faithfully caressing Kramia’s slit the way she seemed to like it most while not sounding suspicious but silently whimpering and sputtering along at the tail end. The crews were at ease, Fritz’s and Jäger’s crew huddled at the meeting of Jäger and Fritz’s hulls like around a bonfire just talking away while Irish sat against E’s rear turret escape hatch with a notepad and pen scribbling away as nearly as he could and trying to talk to E in a more friendly manner and not about how horny she’d gotten on the way down. Marion’s gang were at their usual spots outside the cabin, Hansel half in his cupola and half on a periscope, Meats sitting in the loader’s hatch, Inbred on the sloping forward roof, Whacker leaning against the gun mantle with Banker in his cabin ‘driving’ like he always did. Griffen’s crew was hanging around his turret on the hull while Faust’s crew was lounging in the turret skirts with the rucksacks as mattresses.

“How long do you think it’ll take before he realizes he’s not doing anything?” Marion whispered about Banker.

“You should fuck with him.” Inbred mentioned, he leaned back and grabbed ahold of a periscope and a hatch, Whacker braced himself. Marion smiled and veered off to the side then corrected herself.

“Hey watch it, stupid!” Whacker shouted amused. Banker was startled a little. Marion slammed on the brakes then started up again trying not to laugh at Banker flipping shit in the operator’s seat.

“What the hell are you doing!?” Inbred cried. Marion wanted to say something but knew she’d be laughing so she kept quiet.

“It’s not me I swear!”

“Whatever, Banker.” Hansel jeered.

“Marion! What the hell’s going on!” Banker sounded legitimately scared, and Marion couldn’t help herself anymore. She burst out laughing, Banker wised up then and was quiet unhappy, sinking his face into a deep frown.

“You’re all assholes.”

The rest laughed away, Banker played with her gearsticks with no effect to her movement. He thought back to his training, it went all against his trai-

“Hey isn’t this supposed to be wheel-steering?” He poked at the sticks. “Yeah this is supposed to a steering wheel and a gear shifter, why the hell is this different?” Marion had no idea what he was going on about. Whacker twisted around and peeked into the hatch and saw that.

“He’s right, that’s supposed to be a steering wheel.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Marion said plainly. “What about the Americans? How do they drive?” Whacker slipped into the radio operator seat below him and switched on the radio and was met by the American radio operator singing Mary had a little lamb.

“No her lamb was raped by Phil.” Whacker called. Their driver instantly sounded.

“Eh I’m a farm boy but I ain’t no critter fucker!” His voice echoed inside Chuck’s hull.

“Whatever, how you drive Chuck?”

“Wit gear sticks, how yall drive?”

“Uhhh, we don’t know.”

“How in God’s name don’t yall know!? Jus lean o’er and take yerself a looksee.”

“Well that’s just it, it’s not like any others as we know.”

“Well hows Marion’s done?”

“Gearsticks.”

“There then bimbo! Zat so hard neah?”

“Nein.” The two crews talked about what had gone on in the last week, the Americans said they got a new M5 Stuart gal named Skip and that Chuck saw Katelyn again for a day. Not much else happened for them other than a skirmish. They found out they need not worry about running into each other, the Germans were assisting with Northern defense while the Americans were pushing in the Southern part of France. They were cut off by a MG42 raining hell on Chuck’s convoy and that’s all they cared to talk about on the week long trek north to the crossroads. There they met an interesting bunch they’d call comrades. At around noon the convoy met up with a village guard that conveyed where the rest of the battalion is.

“I won’t lie sir,” the young man said, “they all give me the creeps.” Marion poked him and he jumped back weirded out, Hansel moved them forward.

“Leave the poor guy alone, alright?”

“I just wanted to fuck with him, it’s pretty funny to see you all react like that.” Once in a expansive lot with no tank houses or any commodities they met the rest of the battalion. There was a JagdPanther, a StuG III G, a Panzer III M, two Hummels, a Grille, a Nashorn, three Panzer IVs, a Panther A, a Puma, an SdkFz. 251, a Hetzer, a Tiger, a Marder II, two JagdPanzer IVs, a Porsche turreted King Tiger, and two more by a street that wasn’t seen too clearly. Hansel met with the acting XO when the two unknown tanks moved out of the clearing.

“Holy-Hansel, Hansel! Hey Hansel!” Whacker cried out to him.

“WHA-” Hansel looked over a little mad then saw the tanks. “Ho-ly shit it’s a Ferdinand!” Sitting in the opening gap between two tanks talking was a war-weathered Ferdinand tank destroyer with a plethora of kill stripes, beside him was a tank that none of the group knew. It had the same chassis as the Ferdinand but it had a Tiger turret with a Pz III storage bin on the back of it mounted right on top of the driver and radio operator almost, it’s rear portion angled in and sloped downward. “The hell’s next to him?” They moved in towards him before they noticed that the two Porsche tanks were rubbing up against each other with manipulators locked together.

“Hello there, Captain. You look amazed.” The tank destroyer sounded old and wise with a ruffled voice. Hansel did look amazed, and so did Whacker. No one else got the hype.

“You still exist?” Whacker said shocked.

“Yes I do, not very males do after a few months.”

“What’s so special about him?” Inbred asked.

“Ferdinands couldn’t move for shit but, they have a ten-to-one kill ratio, they’re fucking awesome as a bunker.” Hansel said.

“He’s got two hundred millimeters of armor, just like me.” The strange tank added. “An eighty-eight, too.”

“Yes, yes I do.” He said.

“That’s a lot of kills.” Marion spoke humbled by his forty-one kill count to her eleven.

“Yes all of its true. Sadly so is the fact that so many machine warriors are female.”

“Why?”

“Well I’ve wised up and saw why. In the Eastern front we got shipments of new guys like nothing, but, they’re all the same. They go out reckless like they’ve something to prove, they overestimate themselves and become careless and stupid. They get themselves wasted in usually two months. Few are exceptions like Canine the Panzer III and I, we go way back and he goes further back than I do. He’s definitely one of the oldest serving machines here. His wife’s Frau, the StuG III, they’ve been upgraded a bit. This here’s Porsha, and I’m Ferdi, we weren’t named very creatively.”

“What are you? I’ve never seen your model before.” Meats asked Porsha.

“I’m the Porsche Tiger design, I was secretly brought into life along with Ferdi and anyone else Porsche made. Porsche doesn’t like us with our lives determined for war only, he calls it breeding, but life is life and I’m enjoying mine.” She leaned into her man Ferdi’s side. Inbred looked satisfied with that. He was called down by the XO and he left quietly. Marion noticed the Porsche turreted Tiger II and couldn’t help but continuously glance back again and again.

“That other King Tiger…”

“What about it?” Hansel asked.

“Something’s attracting me to it, like, like… like it’s part of me. Like… family.” She couldn’t help herself; she departed with Hansel towards it. It noticed her and smiled friendly and welcoming.

“I haven’t seen you in months!” She rushed to embrace a puzzled Marion.

“I-I don’t think we’ve met…”

“Oh you were so clean and new! Little sis is a warrior now.”

“Wait, what? Sisters? Who are you?” Hansel was a little concerned.

“Here I’ll explain this, you haven’t met the Hummels yet so you have no clue about this. We’re considered sisters because we were made from the same mixture and batch and her turret is supposed to be fitted to my hull. But my turret was the last Porsche turret before all Hensel was produced, I watched them assembling you before I was sent off. They told me we were sisters, and that’s why I’m Tiger number five-thirty and you’re Tiger five-thirty-one. I’m sure you don’t remember me, but I remember you.”

“Well, alright, well Hansel here named me Marion and that’s what we liked. Do you have a name for yourself yet?”

“They call me Dora. They’re a good bunch, so’s the rest of the tanks, some of us have been together on the Eastern front.”

“Who all’s from the East?”

“The Porsche pair, the Panzer III and StuG, uuuhhh-the Hetzer, Hummels, the Nashorn, the Panzer IVs, that Panther A, Grille, and I. Oh there’s a motorcycle running around somewhere.” The others were all from the West, the JagdPanther, JagdPanzers, Marder, Tiger, SdkFz 251, Puma; they were all from the Western front. Later Inbred came back sulking and miserable, departure. They all gave their good-byes and good-lucks before he left them in a truck to the airbase. E and Irish had already left for the train depot and by then were loaded and the final checks were being run through.

They tried perking up by talking to some new guys. The Hummels were twins with matching serial numbers and one male named Bumble and the other female named Bee, the JagdPanzers were lovers named Rapture and Vinney, the Panzer IVs were all boys and were called the Three Stooges Moe Curley and Joe, the Grille was a shy girl named Clover, the Puma, SdkFz, and JagdPanther were close together named Kitty, Tiffany, and Rosa, the Hetzer named Squirt never left her lover Bruno who called her Armadillo, the Tiger was named Gertrude and the Panther A was named Anna, the Marder was named Susan, the group was predominantly female, supporting the fact that most males are complacent fighters. They were expected a full infantry support force by morning the next day and were to run drills that morning to noon before shipping out to the front. It was fast freezing in temperature, said by most to be the coldest winter in a hundred years, this is the most vulnerable point of a living machine as their bodies and metal is adjusting and coping with the sudden shift. “God help us through the freeze.”

The next two days for Inbred were stressful, leaving and flying really got him thinking about how he was wronged in his view. He landed a three hour train ride from the test base, and on that train ride he came up with the questions he’ll ask the one who pulled him whether it be a grease monkey or the Fuhrur he didn’t care. He marched to his meeting point, heavy rucksack swinging strongly in his hand and an anger not to be confronted in his piercing gaze that’d tear through a bunker. He swung around the corner into a bunker built into a hill and dropped the bag, all anger and hatred fleeing from his mind as he looks on at beauty. He was whisked away by a calming and gentle womanly voice that pulled him into trust.

“Are you Corporal Ralph Smith?”

Fin Chapter 25

On the side note to Ratbat and Cerebralerror I’m thinking about making myself a War Thunder account. It’s not really going to be at the top of my gaming preferences because I love WoT so dearly and I have so much stuff in that game already. I just think I’ll get War Thunder for 1. the ships once it’s out (and) 2. the tanks. I probably won’t tangle with the planes as much as yall do probably.

Well that’s all I’ve got for now. Still stuck on the Severstal journey.