German

GERMAN STEEL PART: I, II, III & IV

Finally Hanz’s story:

PART I: Battle for Reinbach

PART II: Down time

PART III: Post-war

PART IV: Heritage Corps

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GERMAN STEEL

PART I

05 March 1945, 0615

5 Kilometers Northwest of Reinbach, Germany

Sturmbannführer Karl Holtz, Tiger I Hanz

SS Heavy Panzer Company, 1^st Platoon, 5^th Panzer Army

 

The morning was cold, very cold. Even in the heavy steel body of his Tiger tank SS Sturmbannführer Karl Holtz could see his breath forming a momentary cloud in front of his face. This was nothing like the scorching deserts of North Africa he had become accustomed to during his first campaign in the war but, that to, had come with its own set of problems. He took in a deep breath and prepared himself for the blast of cold air that would meet him as he opened his hatch and emerged from the tank.

The sun had barely began to rise over the grassy fields of west Germany, wisps of light fog still hovered above the frosty ground, giving the terrain a grayish hue in the early light. Karl pulled the folded map from under his jacket and laid it out flat on top of the turret. The ambush sight was just ahead. He checked his watch, half past six. They had made good time getting there.

He reached down to the pendant clipped onto his coveralls and keyed the radio, “All tanks halt.”

The creaking and screeching of the tanks treads ceased, leaving Karl with only the rumbling of his own vehicle’s engine. The beast of a tank he had been charged with was the Tiger I heavy tank bearing the number 331, but he preferred Hanz. It had been a few years since some machines had begun coming to life in sense. It had been quite a shock to both sides as these sentient machines began popping up among the ranks and after much convincing from Reichsmarschall Göring, a reluctant Adolf Hitler had decided these machines were too valuable of an asset to be vilified and gave his approval.

Hanz and Karl had been together since Tunisia, fighting the enemies of the Reich from the sweltering sands of the North African desert with the 501st, up along the Italian peninsula with the 508^th before reaching their final command under the 5^th Panzer Army in Normandy. Together Hanz and Karl had racked up an impressive kill record, trailing only a few spots behind the leading Tiger ace and despite butting heads with his commanding officers on multiple occasions, earned the rank of Sturmbannführer and been given command of his own Panzer Platoon and eventually Company. However, by the time he was given command of a Company, it was mostly the scraped together consolidation of what remained of panzer units who had been decimated in battle.

He took a moment to look out across the field, it was nowhere close to as ideal for an ambush the maps made it seem. The main road ran north to south along the tree line to the east before turning sharply east toward Reinbach. To the west, where they would be able to hit their enemy broad side, the tree line was too thick, making it impossible for them to conceal their panzers. To the south was a dirt berm followed by a decline before the field met the tree line. This also wouldn’t work because the enemy would be facing straight towards them and for the moment they crested the berm, the lightly armored underbelly of their tanks would completely be exposed to enemy fire. Nothing about this was ideal. After the turn, the road ran through the forest which was far too narrow to mount an attack. Intelligence had reported that the enemy would be pushing on their position any time now leaving Karl little time to improvise.

Behind his tank was the rest of his unit. Directly to his rear was the Panzer IV belonging to Max Gross, a trustworthy second in command and personal friend of Karl’s. Max had been at the tip of the Blitzkrieg in the beginning and become a decorated veteran of the eastern front, only being sent back west when he found himself at the business end of a Soviet anti-tank gun at Kursk. Behind that was another Panzer IV with Mario Corilli, a displaced Italian tank commander who had been rolled into the Wehrmacht and eventually into Karl’s unit. His prowess with a Panzer was unquestionable and his German was almost flawless, until he got excited when somehow Italian and German mashed together into an incoherent mess. There had been another two with them including another Tiger, but fighting near Bastogne had seen them both destroyed along with their entire crews.

In the distance Karl could hear muffled explosions and rifle fire as the allied forces clashed with the German defenders to the south. Their lines were spread thin, more and more so every day, as the allies continued to advance deeper and deeper into the Fatherland. It would be their turn soon. This road was the most direct route to Reinbach, the last step before the River Rhine and the bridge at Remagen.

Karl lifted his binoculars to his eyes. Scanning across the western tree line he saw a small overgrown road leading into the trees. It no doubt would be tight but he might just be able to squeeze Hanz in there. It would provide an excellent firing position on the road. With this he made his plan.

He reached down and keyed his headset “Max, Mario, Hold back in the tree line to the south. I’ll stage in the tree line to the west. As soon as I engage the enemy both of you will pull in and attack. Reinforcements aren’t expected but we can expect a strong assault force.”

Both commanders confirmed his orders and began moving into position.

“Alright Hanz, you know what to do.”

“Ja, moving.” Hanz replied heading for the break in the trees.

Karl switched to internal comms “Woll, load up a 39”

“Will do, high explosive in the tube”

Woll Bochardt, a railway attendant from Munich, was the only other crewmember aboard the tank, serving as the cannon loader. Woll was a middle aged man, but could sling 88 rounds faster than any loader in the German army, his experience stemming from his role as an anti-air gunner in beginning of the war.

“I don’t know if I told you, but I traded that supply officer in Remagen three kilos of salted beef and that American pistol we picked up for a few crates of PzGr. 40 tungsten rounds”

“That was a good trade” Karl replied.

“Oh, and that American whiskey, that to.”

He would have kicked Woll if he wasn’t on the other side of the gun. “That was the last case”

“I know, but the yanks just put out a new tank. The 3^rd ran into a couple last week, almost wiped them out, I figured we needed these more than whiskey.”

“How many did you get?”

“About ten or so.”

“You only got ten?”

“Do you know how hard it is to get those rounds? That’s probably half the tungsten left in the whole Reich.”

“Alright, well get ready, they’ll be along any minute.” Karl clicked off the comm.

Karl positioned himself low in the hatch, surveying the area with his binoculars. Any minute now the allies would be coming down that road. He hoped that they would be expecting a defensive line closer to Reinbach and they would be able to catch them off guard. Intel reported the American 9^th Armored Division would be pushing for the bridge at Remagen very soon. This hadn’t been his first clash with the 9^th. He had taken part in the battle at Bastogne under General Manteuffel. They were a respectable fighting force and this time they were on the offensive.

The waiting was almost as bad as the cold. As the wind shifted the frigid breeze was also complimented by the bitter tinge of exhaust. Despite this he had never found himself happier than when he was in a tank, the thrill of a battle, watching the dust jump from every surface as the main gun fired. War had taken a lot from him but it was his where he belonged.

It was time, he spotted the first olive-drab green hull of an American Sherman tank round the corner just over a kilometer down the road. This one was followed by another and another. The trees to either side prevented him from traversing the gun and beginning his attack. Hanz had made shots at much greater distances, but waiting for just the right moment would win them this battle.

Karl could feel his heart begin to beat faster as the enemy drew closer and closer, he no longer felt the cold nor smelled the exhaust, his concentration rested solely on the first shot. They seemed to have no idea, they must have expected the defensive to be closer to Reinbach. The tank crews sat exposed out of their hatches, no doubt they would button up once the first shell hit but, opened or closed it made no difference at the muzzle of an 88.

Now, the convoy totaled 5 Sherman tanks along with 3 troop trucks and at the rear one of the allies M-16 anti-aircraft half-tracks.

“Get ready Hanz, target lead tank, fire on my command”

Suddenly everything seemed to quiet, his breath shallowed as he watched the first tank through his binoculars. In this moment he played god, he held the crews life in his hand, with a single word he could take life. It was a humbling thought.

He spoke low into the comm “Anti-tank 39 – 2 o’clock – 750 meters – tank – take lead 6 notch” he took one final deep breath, “Fire!”

Everything seemed to move the massive cannon fired, leaves shook, dust jumped from the tanks hull, blades of grass bent in waves in front of them. The high velocity 88 millimeter shell took a fraction of a second to reach the hull of the lead Sherman. It impacted the hull just to the rear of the turret, effortlessly penetrating the tanks armor and igniting the fuel supply. Jets of flame erupted from the hatches, the crew trying desperately to escape the inferno. A second later the heat of the fire began cooking off the ammunition stores, chaining into one massive explosion, freeing the turret from the hull and propelling it three meters in the air before crashing back down onto the destroyed tank. Karl had already planned his next move as the allies scrambled to respond to the unseen threat.

“New target” he shouted as the gun spit out the spent shell “same load – 2 o’clock – 700 meters – tank”

The traverse motor hummed as Hanz repositioned the gun to engage the next tank.

“Fire”

Woll shoved another heavy shell into the gun’s breech and slapped the outer wall of the turret. Hanz fired, his cannon again brought the landscape to life as it sent another high velocity round down range. It hit short, bouncing off the ground and ricocheting off into the distance, doing nothing but showering the enemy in chunks in dirt.

The allied tanks had managed to get themselves together, with their backs to the tree line there was no moving away from the tiger, leaving them with few options other than facing the beast. They turned their tanks toward the threat, attempting to put as much armor as between them and the opponent as possible.

“Miss! Elevate, reengage, same target” Karl clicked over to the platoon comm “Now!”

No sooner than he switched the comm off, the two panzers crested the berm, their tracks slamming the ground as they came over. They now had the tactical advantage. Both came to a halt and began sighting in on the enemy. Almost simultaneously the two fired their 75 mm guns. Both shells hit the second Sherman. One round bounced off the tanks turret having no effect while the other struck right at the turret seam. The weak spot yielded to the cannon round allowing it effortless penetration. The projectile exploded inside the crew compartment, the blast tearing at the welded seams.

Three tanks now advanced on Hanz and Karl’s position. They knew the Tiger on the field was the greatest threat. The crews knew the only way to silence this monster would be to reach its back and strike.

“Max, Mario, move to my position, take a line formation. Hanz push forw…” Karl was cut short, almost throwing himself down into the tank as a hail of bullets began clattering against the armor. Recovering quickly he looked through the periscope. The halftrack had trained its quad mounted .50 caliber guns on his tank and opened fire. The clatter of the heavy slugs sounded like hail against steel. While none would penetrated he would not be able to adequately direct his Panzer with that relentless barrage. A loud clang reverberated through the Tiger’s hull followed quickly by another as the allied gunners found their mark.

“Hanz, you’re going to have to hit that tank on your own”

“Jawohl” Hanz replied finding the tank in his sights.

More shells impacted the hull, “Hanz we have to move.”

His powerful V-12 roared, jolting Karl as he lurched into motion. Hanz trained his gun on his target, making adjustments as he moved. Timing on this shot was key, a moving target being hit by a moving gun. He fired, the shell went low and right, hitting the Sherman’s track and blowing a section free. The tank came to a dead stop as the drive sprocket ran out of track. The tank wasn’t out of the fight though, another of the 75mm rounds from its gun slammed into the hull.

 

Soldiers jumped from the trucks and headed for the cover of the tree line. A standard infantry man could do little in a tank battle short of hoping to get a lucky shot on the commander, so cover and concealment would be their best bet. While the tanks fought their battle the bow gunners from the two panzers exchanged gunfire with the infantry, green tracers cut into the trees and foliage as soldiers ran for cover. The Americans quickly set up their machine guns and sent a hail of tracers pinging off the panzer’s hulls.

A single Sherman broke off form the attack to engage the two Panzers. Presenting only its frontal armor to the enemy it pushed directly toward them. The Sherman crew fired their main gun hitting Mario’s turret dead on but the round failed to explode.

“A dud, you bastardo!” he shouted defiantly at the allied tank crew. “Fire!”

The Sherman made a turn just as the Mario’s cannon fired. The shell glanced off the side armor and went wide. The stray ricochet collided with one of the allied trucks, igniting what must have been their ammo supply. The truck was instantly consumed in a spectacular explosion. Soldiers scrabbled to escape but some were not so lucky. Fire engulfed their uniforms sending them running, falling, flailing, trying in desperation to extinguish the flames.

The Sherman returned with another round. This time missing Mario by mere centimeters, the air wave taking his cover off his head as Mario shouted profanities at the enemy.

Max had used this time to line up a perfect shot on the tank. His gunner watched through his scope, at this range he couldn’t miss, the enemy, only 150 meters from his muzzle. He put his sights right over the bow gunner’s weapon and fired. From such a short distance even the low velocity 75mm gun tore through the frontal armor.

“Hit them again” Max ordered.

The gunner waited for the loader, keeping the turret trained on the enemy. He got the go ahead and fired a second round into the Sherman’s hull. There was a moment’s delay before fire began seeping from the hatches. Max could hear the muffled thumps of the ammo stores cooking off inside the tanks hull. No crew emerged from the inferno, that tank would be their grave.

Out the corner of his eye, he saw it. “Rocket!”

An allied Bazooka team had loaded the rocket, connected the firing wire and put the Panzer in their sights.

With a cloud of dust and smoke the rocked sailed from the tube, leaving a trail as it flew through the air. The shaped charge warhead impacted the side armor of Mario’s turret, molten metal cutting through steel armor and spraying into the crew compartment.

Adam sat at his post in the burning hull of Mario’s tank, feeling himself slipping in and out of consciousness. He had to fight it, had to stay with it. He could feel the searing pain of the fire that consumed the inside of the tank as he looked around. Everyone else was dead or beyond help. He knew even he was beyond saving. The fire would reach their ammo any second.

He closed his eyes and took a final deep breath, the smoke filled air burning his lungs. “For the Führer” he said coughing. This would be his final act of defiance against the Allied invaders. He jammed his foot down on the accelerator, taking whatever his panzer had left to give. The engine bellowed black smoke as the tank lurched forward. Wiping the blood from his eyes, he steered toward his target. He and his tank would make one last sacrifice for the Fatherland.

The flaming machine streaked across the battlefield like a demon from hell, a thick black trail of smoke following behind. He aimed his steel battering ram for the halftrack. In the last few meters, he gritted his teeth and prepared for the impact. Steel bent and twisted as the two war machined collided, the deafening crash echoed across the battlefield. The twisted frame of the halftrack slid sideways until both vehicles came to a rest. A ball of flame exploded from the tank’s ammo stores, consuming and destroying both vehicles, leaving only a pile of burnt and twisted metal.

 

Shells from the two Sherman continued slamming into Hanz’s. They left little more than scratches on the Tiger’s skin but sooner or later one would get a lucky and find a weak spot. Karl emerged from his hatch, now free from the anti-air fire.

“Hanz, hit that tank again, destroy it!”

Hanz had the disabled tank in his sights. Another 88mm round tore a clean hole through the Sherman’s frontal armor sending up a shower of sparks and flame. The edges of the hole still glowed orange as Karl waited for the explosion. Half a second later the well-stocked ammo supply detonated. The entire turret was sent flying into the air with explosive force. The smoking mass of steel landed upside down on the ground meters away from flaming pit where it had been.

The bazooka team was readying for another shot at Max’s tank. The loader slid another rocket in the tube, attached the firing wire and patted the gunner on the shoulder. The back blast kicked up more dust as the rocket flew from the tube. It was a near miss, the rocket exploded in the dirt just off Max’s bow.

“Hanz, use the bow gun, they have a sight on Max”

Hanz quickly trained the bow mounted MG on the enemy and sent a flurry of green tracers in the rocket team’s direction. The projectiles shredded flesh and uniform, cutting the men down like nothing. It was a brave endeavor to stand in front of a tank, holding your ground for just the right shot in hopes of playing David and Goliath with an armored vehicle. It was brave, yet foolish, but that seemed to be a common theme in war.

Now only a single Sherman remained, punned between the loaded guns of two panzers.

“Surrender, just surrender” Karl said to himself, hoping the allied tank crew saw just how hopeless their situation was.

For seconds both parties sat there silently, even the infantry in the tree line had stopped firing. Everyone waited to see what the other would do. Karl hoped to see a white flag from the top of the tank. Then, followed by white flags from the tree line. They could keep their lives if they surrendered to the Reich.

“You have no hope, surrender now” Karl shouted across in English.

There was no response.

“Karl they are trying to line up a kill shot” Hanz said over crew comm.

“They have had their opportunity to live.” he said before switching to the platoon frequency “Max put an AP in their engine”

“Yes, sir.” Max replied.

Max’s shell tore through the steel and explodes in the engine compartment. A loud clanging and sputtering came from the tank as the destroyed engine spit out a black cloud and ground to a stop. Smoke began seeping from the hatches as fire began consuming the tank.

Would they emerge and give up, or would they fight. Crew hatches opened and American tankers began scrambling out. Their commander crawled from his position and drew his pistol.

Karl had his answer. “Shoot!”

Both MG-34s lit up, spraying the tank with bullets. Ricochets flew in every direction as the crew was cut down by the fire.

“Stop, cease fire”

They lay like ragdolls, sprawled on the vehicle and for a second all was silent. Then, the tree line erupted in rifle and machinegun fire.

“Mortars” Max shouted over comm as a shell whistled down and exploded next to his tank.

Another high pitched whistle followed by a loud explosion sent clumps of dirt into the air, “Keep moving”

Max sat low as they started moving. He heard the whistle then everything went white. Completely disoriented he fell into the tank. All he could hear was an earsplitting ringing. He reached up and touched his ear, it was wet. He moved his hand in front of his eyes. His vision was still coming back to him but he could see red.

“Damage?” he shouted.

It was muffled but he could make out his driver reporting the left track was out. He fumbled with his comm pendant “Karl, We’re down, we can’t move. You’ve got to take out the mortar, they’ll hit their mark eventually”

Karl scanned the enemy line, looking for anything that looked like a mortar but the trees were filled with movement. Then he saw what might be something. He squinted at the column of smoke coming from the first destroyed tank. Every so often the smoke curled as if passed by something moving at great speed and that was more than enough for him.

“Hanz, you see that burning tank at 11 o’clock? Put a round to the left, just behind it. Woll, High-explosive!”

Woll heaved the heavy shell into the breach of the gun, “Ready!”

“Hanz, fire!”

The cannon bucked as the heavy explosive round exited the barrel. The shell hit right where Karl planned. There was without a doubt someone using the wreckage as cover. The explosion sent up chunks of gore and strips of tattered uniform but nothing that could be identified as human.

Karl listened, a few seconds passed and no whistle or muffled thuds.

This battle was almost theirs. “Hanz, prepare to engage infantry targets on my order, fire when you have the target sighted. Use bow gun at your discretion.”

Karl could hear the chatter from the bow machine gun begin as Hanz found targets. Max’s tank joined in, sending a hail of green tracers and cannon rounds into the trees. Anything that moved was cut down by gun and cannon.

Karl raised his binoculars, he had to be more precise than a spray of bullets. “Machine gun team, 10 o’clock, 300 meters, high-explosive”

Hanz set the shell loose. Trees exploded into splinters sending leaves and chunks of wood flying in a brilliant yellow explosion. The casing clattered in the spent round basket and just as soon, Woll had shoved another round in the breech.

“Infantry, 12 o’clock, 275 meters”

Another explosion shattered the tree line. Round after round ripped into enemy positions as their machine guns ate up everything else.

“Cease fire, cease fire!”

Trees were toppled, carnage covered the forest floor but all was quiet.

Karl let out a sigh of relief “We did it Hanz” he said patting his hand against the tank’s turret, “another victorious battle.”

“Well at least one we lived through” Hanz replied, not sharing Karl’s zealous optimism.

A flight of Messerschmitt jets streaked overhead “Hanz, you see that, our jet fighters can out fly anything the allies can throw at us, out tanks can out gun any of theirs, Germany will be victorious.”

Hanz remained quiet.

A few hundred meters down the tree line Karl saw an enemy soldier emerge from the trees and break into a dead sprint back the way the convoy had come, running for the cover of the hedgerows to the west.

“Karl, should I take him out”

“No Hanz, you’ve done enough.”

“If he reaches his forces he will report our positions”

“I know” Karl said reaching in the turret and pulling out his scoped K-98.

He put the rifle to his shoulder, rested his elbows on the turret for stability, put his cheek to the stock and looked through the scope. He was about 700 meters away running at a frantic pace away from them. Karl found his target in his scope and placed the crosshairs over his back. The smooth wood against his cheek, the cold strip of curved steel at the tip of his finger, it brought back memories, of both war and the time before.

Once again he was playing god. The twitch of his finger and he could take life. This man was unarmed and fleeing but, he was fleeing with information which could compromise the safety of him and those under his charge.

Hating what must be done he took a deep breath in, exhaled emptying the air from his lungs and slowly pulled back on the trigger. The rifle bucked, pressing hard into his shoulder. Karl kept his eye on the target for the spilt second it would take for the bullet to travel the distance. At that range the bullet would strike before the man would hear the crack of the rifle. A puff of dust came from the soldier’s uniform and he toppled to the ground.

Karl lowered the rifle, taking another deep breath but not taking his eyes off the body in the field.

“Looks like you haven’t lost your touch” Hanz commented.

Karl lightly nodded his head. The heat of combat was one thing but the role of a sniper could weigh heavy on a man, just as it had his father who was one of the Kaiser’s snipers in the first “Great War”. He was the one who had taught Karl to shoot, but he could tell killing in such a fashion had taken a hefty toll on his spirit. To take a life in the true spirit of a sniper was much like walking up behind a man pulling your pistol and shooting him in the back of the head. While waiting on a target all the possibilities would rush through the marksman’s head. A sniper was lucky to find his target facing away, if he was facing the sniper the killer would be looking his victim straight in the eye when he committed the act. Did this man have a family? Was he a good man, forced into war? Did he really deserve to die? This had damaged his father so intensely alcohol had taken the place of all the joys in life and on the outbreak of the Second World War Karl’s father hung himself. This drove his mother to pieces and broke apart their home. Still a young man of 20 and distraught from his father’s death, Karl found his way into the ranks of the SS, making his comrades in arms his new family.

“Karl there’s something out there!” Hanz said bringing Karl back to reality.

Karl raised his rifle, looking through the scope.

He watched as 3 green US Army tanks came into sight about 1,500 meters off. Two were Shermans, upgraded with the heavier 76mm guns they called “Easy-8’s” but the third was the one that concerned him. This new contender was massive, larger than any American tank he had seen. Reports had been passed around of an allied heavy tank but Karl hadn’t been expecting to see one here. He looked closely at the tank’s gun. This wasn’t one of their standard 75’s not even one of the Brit 17-pounders, this one looked big, big as Hanz’s 88.

The two Shermans took positions at either of the heavy’s flanks as they turned to face them.

 

“Houston honey” was fresh off the ship but the ‘Texan and proud’ tank commander Bill Walker had been fighting the Huns across Europe since D-Day. His stories about the fate of his previous Sherman involved him taking out 4 or 5 enemy tanks by himself with a radiator full of piss and a jammed turret before having his track blown off by one of Fitz’ anti-tank guns. An exaggeration, but he was a legend in his own mind and now he was sitting pretty in America’s latest and greatest Pershing heavy tank. His new warhorse had over 4 inches of Detroit steel armor and a massive 90mm High-velocity gun he affectionately named the “Kitty Killer”. He wanted this Tiger kill under his belt, he wanted it bad.

“Dan, Omar, I’ll smack em’ around from the front you two pull around and step on that kitty’s tail.”

“Rodger”

“You got it boss”

“Alright boys, let’s kill us a tiger!” he growled “Dan left. Omar Right. Let’s move!”

 

The trio came to a stop. Karl watched as the muzzle of the heavy tank exploded in a bright flash. He could hear the wiz of the high-velocity round as it passed by. The stray round flew off into the forest behind them, tearing through trees and foliage.

“Woll, load 39. Hanz, Enemy tank, 12 o’clock, 1,450 meters.”

Hanz elevated the 88 and fired, sending the anti-tank round down range with lethal accuracy. It struck the opposition dead on in the frontal plating. As soon as the smoke and flame cleared it was evident the round hadn’t penetrated.

The Pershing returned with another round, dangerously close this time.

Karl thought for a second, he was finally facing opposition on a level playing field, a plan began forming in his head.

“Hanz, smoke”

“Firing smoke”

The smoke dischargers at either corner of Hanz’s turret fired, sending out a cluster of projectiles which puffed into a cloud of thick white smoke.

“Max, keep firing in the direction of the enemy but as soon as the smoke clears get out of there, this war has enough dead heroes”

The climate kept the cloud dense and close to the ground with a light breeze began carrying it to the northeast.

“Hanz, stay in the cloud. Push up into the wreckage of the enemy vehicles” It burnt his eyes and throat as they pushed through. Even his scarf didn’t help.

Karl could hear the loud clap of Max’s cannon as he began firing blindly through the cloud. In the distance he could hear the loud response of the enemy tanks. If his ruse was successful they wouldn’t know the Max’s panzer was still in play and believe him to be the tiger.

Hanz navigated through the smoke and wreckage, pushing up along the road the allied convoy had come across. Karl could begin to see the smoke beginning to break in front of them.

Like a ghost from the fog, the Tiger emerged from the thick cloud, wisps of smoke trailing behind them as Hanz’s treads came to a grinding halt. A hundred meters to their front, caught by complete surprise was the first of the two “Easy 8” Shermans.

Hanz didn’t even have to aim. The cannon recoiled into its housing sending the 10 kilogram projectile streaking toward the enemy. The penetration was effortless and the destruction instant, the orange glow of flames appearing in the hatches.

Karl picked up his rifle from the top of the turret. This time he didn’t have the luxuries of setting up a perfect shot, is heart pounded in his chest and his pulse raced from the adrenaline. As fast as he could, he put the rifle to his shoulder and found his target. Pushing all the air out of his lungs, he steadied his crosshairs over the Pershing commander’s head and fired.

A spray of red mist filled the air behind his target, a clean kill. His body slumped backward before slipping back into the tank.

For a moment the tank fell silent. It was a dirty way to fight but this war had seen many honorable conventions dashed in favor of doing what was necessary to win. “Would they give up?” Karl thought to himself “No, it wouldn’t be so easy” The thought was sunk as the turret began swiveling to meet them. These two unwieldy titans would duel to the death.

“Karl, start feeding the 40’s.”

Woll shoved another shell into the cannons breech “Tungsten in the breach.”

 

Max watched as the smoke began to fade around them. He lowered himself back into his tank and looked across the faces of his crew.

“We can go now, while there’s still cover and run for the trees” Max took off his cover and scratched his head “or” he paused “we can stay and fight.” He could hardly even hear what he was saying, everything seemed muffled and quiet. He reached up and felt the patch of dried blood running down to his jaw.

Nobody said anything yet, everybody understood. “Alright then, we fight! That Sherman will be coming any second. See if we can turn left, put our front to them”

His driver grasped the right stick and shoved it forward. Max knew his tank was badly damaged and wasn’t sure if it would even move but like clockwork the treads caught earth and began pulling the tank. The panzer pivoted on the broken track until they had made a 90 degree turn, just in time to watch the last of the smoke dissipate.

Tearing at top speed down the open field came the second “Easy 8” Sherman kicking up chunks of dirt and grass behind it. Max’s gunner worked to keep a lead on the tank as it moved. The cannon fired. Max watched the tracer tail of the round fly right behind the Sherman, off into the hedgerows.

Realizing the threat the Sherman’s driver made a hard right, turning straight for them.

His loader was right on the mark and had another round in the gun as soon as the first had cleared. The gunner found his mark and fired again. The round hit the gun mantlet, doing nothing but leaving a deep gouge in the steel. The Sherman slowed, lining up to take a shot. Max looked closer. Their round had hit the gunner’s sight, but at this distance, they didn’t need it. “At least that’s something” Max murmured. The enemy fired.

It was a critical hit. Max’s tank exploded in a ball of flame and debris.

 

“Anti-tank 40 – 11 o’clock – 500 meters – Heavy ta…” Karl was jolted forward, catching himself before slamming his face into the turret. A round from the Pershing ricocheted off Hanz’s driver hatch, scraped across the side of the turret and skipped off into the distance. Karl felt like a gong had been rung against his head, he could only imagine what Hanz was feeling. The impact of the round had dented in the driver’s hatch sending it up along the side of the turret leaving a long deep gouge in the metal.

Karl shook his head, trying to regain himself. “Are you alright Hanz?”

“Just a scratch” Hanz replied, ignoring the searing pain from the scrape, trying to get a bead on the Pershing.

“I’m alright to, thanks for asking” Woll shouted from the depths of the tank.

“We got lucky Hanz, I don’t think the next will ricochet. Take the shot!”

The reverberation from the 88 shook the tank. The round fell short of the target planting itself in the dirt a few meters from the Pershing’s tracks.

“That last hit shook the sights. Next one won’t miss” Hanz said adjusting his sights.

“Let’s hope not. Full reverse!” Karl shouted.

Hanz responded immediately, his tracks pulling them backward, behind the hull of one of the burning Shermans, moving them out of the way just as a round sailed through where they had just been. Behind the burning hull and column of smoke the Pershing wouldn’t be able to engage them without repositioning. One of the 90 millimeter rounds slammed into the wreckage, sending up a hail of shrapnel and flame.

From the wreckage of the Easy 8, one of the enemy tankers bolted across the grass, taking Karl by surprise as he leaped up onto Hanz and climbed up onto the turret. His uniform was singed and he smelled of burnt fuel and flesh. In his right hand was the silver blade of a knuckled trench knife. Karl could see the pure adrenaline fueled rage in the man’s eyes as he lunged at him with the knife. Only having a fraction of a second to react he leaned out of the path of the blade, allowing it to pass in by him before grabbing the arm with the knife and slamming his wrist against the hatch. With his right Karl reached to his belt and drew his Luger pistol. Four rounds and the man’s eyes went wide, his lips still curled back in a snarl, blood tricking from a gash on his forehead. Karl Shoved the man off the tank, his body toppling lifeless onto the grass.

He had to shake it off, the Pershing would be lining up for a shot. “Forward, be ready to take a shot.”

As soon as they emerged a round exploded just off their bow. The Perishing’s poor performance was no doubt the result of the lack of direction from their commander, they had completely exposed their broadside to enemy fire.

“Take the shot, Fire!”

Hanz lined up a shot and fired. The round impacted the hull just forward of the drive sprocket. The soft metal outer layer mashed against the armor as the ridged tungsten core tore a hole straight through, lodging itself deep in the transmission. With a pained clanking and grinding from deep inside, the monster came to a stop.

“Another, hit their turret!”

Showing off an almost super human speed Woll had reloaded the gun and readied it for another shot. Hanz aimed for the turret this time. The round hit right at the seam where the gun barrel met the mantlet. It tore open the barrel bending the cannon at an odd angle and igniting the high explosive round in the chamber, causing an explosion in the face of the turret.

Now they now had no way to flee and no way to fight. “Hanz, finish them. Panzergranate 39, center mass”

Woll loaded the round and gave Hanz a slap on the gun to let him know the round was ready.

The 88 spit another round, this one deliberate and well placed. It struck between the second and third return roller, right in the heart of the beast. The tank exploded in the most spectacular display of explosive force Karl had ever seen. A shockwave of heat rolled across his face as every hatch blew open. The intense light from the ensuing fireball hurt his eyes but it signaled it was over. As the explosion dissipated all that was left was the blackened burning remnants of what had once been a mighty tank.

Karl wasn’t heartless, nor was he sadistic. He felt sympathy for the men whose lives he had taken in that tank, but it was a soldier’s duty and he would do it again without hesitation. He looked to his side and noticed the trench knife was still sitting on the turret. He picked it up, putting his fingers through the “knuckle duster” handle. As he was examining it he heard the telltale crack of a cannon followed by the wiz of a round passing nearby. Karl turned to see behind them the second “Easy 8”.

“Hanz, behind us!”

Their rear armor was completely open and exposed to the enemy.

“Turn turn turn!”

The traverse motor hummed as the turret began turning to meet the threat.

That was too slow, they would land a shot before the gun reached them.

“Hanz, pivot, pivot!”

Another round exploded on the ground just behind them. Hanz’s engines roared as hit treads began pulling in opposite directions, tearing up turf and dirt as they began to spin the vehicle on its axis.

The Allied tank had made all the corrections, this shot would silence the beast.

On the western boundary, thick hedgerows gave way to the heavy treads of Königstiger. The massive angular body slammed the ground as it cleared the foliage with little effort. Within seconds the long barreled 88 had found the enemy tank and fired. The round from the Tiger II slammed into the Sherman, opening it up like a tin can.

Karl watched as the opposition went up in flames. He recognized the tank, this particular King Tiger belonged to another SS tank commander Hauptsturmführer Wilhelm Haufmann. A young, ambitious tank commander with an inclination for violence and rash actions. Given favor because of his aristocratic bloodline he was given rank, command of a platoon and Germany’s latest Tiger II tank.

His Tiger, a female, often proved to be the voice of reason, keeping the hot-headed Wilhelm in check when she could. She had been given the name Ida by a sympathetic factory worker and the name had stuck.

Karl could see Wilhelm trying to wave them over “Come on Hanz, let’s go talk to them”

He could see Wilhelm motioning numbers with his fingers as they approached, “Hanz, you get that”

“I got it, tuning to his frequency”

“Can you hear me?” Karl heard over the radio.

“Yes Wilhelm, I can.”

“Looks like you owe me one, huh?”

“So it would seem” The thought appalled Karl.

“Looks like you did good work here. Lots of scrap. Your team didn’t make I’m guessing. Sorry to hear that”

Karl looked back, he felt a feeling of guilt pulling at him, thinking about the fates of his comrades. This was war, he had seen it many times before. Tanks had been lost and replaced, crews had been lost and replaced. He couldn’t let this affect him, he had a duty to perform, he had a war to fight, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Battalion is sending a couple Panthers and a Pak 43 team over to help you defend this sector.”

 

PART II

05 March 1945, 2145

Reinbach, Germany

Sturmbannführer Karl Holtz, Tiger I Hanz

SS Heavy Panzer Company, 1^st Platoon, 5^th Panzer Army

 

They had fought all day. The allies sent wave after wave of them, Infantry, tanks, various other armored vehicles. Woll had been down to a hand full of shells and Hanz was running on reserve tanks before the sun began to set and the fighting had tapered off. At 2000 hours command had finally ordered them back to Reinbach for rest and refit.

A massive party had broken out in the city square. Everywhere German soldiers were celebrating another day of life. Tomorrow death could await any one of them so this night was one more to celebrate being alive. Drunken soldiers staggered though the streets, wine bottles in hand. Any woman on the street would find herself with dozens of suitors, hoping for the ultimate relief. Eventually the party would be broken up and the soldiers returned to camp but for now the night was still young.

Woll sat in a café, relaxing with a cup of coffee and schnapps, his boots resting on the table, reading a novel he’d traded for a couple packs of American smokes. The commotion outside didn’t bother him as soldiers sang and bottles smashed against brick walls, he just pushed his round wireframe glasses back up the bridge of his noise and toned it all out.

Karl, after having provided a detailed report to command had found himself annoyed and on the prowl for a halfway decent bottle of scotch, raiding every shelf and liquor cabinet he could find. The town had pretty much been picked clean after weeks of occupation by German forces. House by house, store by store he scoured every place he could think to find the booze. He had left his SS “Kombi” coveralls with the tank in favor of his standard black SS uniform, proudly displaying His Knight’s Cross.

Karl and Woll had left Hanz in the town square, in the center of the party, free to do whatever he wanted. As a tank he wasn’t able to take part in the majority of the frivolities but he made the best of it. His joy came from watching the festivities around him. Every time a fight would break out he was quick to break it up, none would argue with 60 tons of armor and guns.

Hanz watched as a young woman walked down the sidewalk, carrying a basket in one hand. She moved at a brisk pace close to the building, trying to remain as unseen as possible. She kept her head low as she approached, trying to give the massive war machine a wide birth.

A drunk soldier, stumbling from the one of the buildings, spotted her. He began towards her, a wide grin on his face. She cringed as he pinned her up against the tank, leaning in against the armored vehicle an arm blocking her way, “How about you show a brave soldier of the Fatherland a good time.”

“No, I have to get home” she protested.

“Come on! How about a kiss?”

She couldn’t handle the stink of liquor on his breath and it was clear he had been without a shower for far too long. She tried to back out of his trap but quickly his other arm blocked her exit. He pushed in closer, pressing her against Hanz’s hull.

“Corporal, if you value your well-being you will walk away right this moment”

The soldier looked around, ready to fight whoever had the nerve to interrupt. The fight died instantly as he saw the green eye at the corner of the tank’s gun mantlet staring straight at him. This was a fist fight he would never win. Not wanting to consent defeat he just huffed and backed away, he would find someone else.

“Can I offer you a ride Fräulein?”

He could see a hint of fear in her expression as she looked up at the armored vehicle.

“I can assure you, I mean you no harm and a Panzer could assure no more unwanted interruptions.”

She was hesitant, this wasn’t a car, what she was looking at was one of Germany’s battle tanks. She’d never seen one up close. Still a little shaken from her encounter she lightly nodded and hesitantly found her footing on his treads and cautiously crawled up, taking a seat on the drivers hatch.

“Please hang onto the cannon”

Reluctantly she scooted closer to the big gun and put her arm around it. She was still uneasy about this but the tank as polite and something about him made her want to put her guard down. She expected him to be made of cold unfriendly metal but, he wasn’t. His armored skin was a kind of pleasant warm. That combined with the gentle vibrations and hum of engines put her at ease, beginning to enjoy riding on this tank.

Hanz could feel her arm tighten around his cannon as they began to move. He did his best to accelerate slowly. Hanz liked the way she felt, her smooth skin, her soft body pressed against his armor. He couldn’t help the feelings that mounted inside him.

“I have to apologize for the action of that soldier.” Hanz began, “Many of these men have spent years away from loved ones and lovers. The war has been hard for them and many have certain ‘needs’. Alcohol can make them rash.”

A question began to form, she wasn’t sure how to ask but her curiosity got the better of her. “Do tanks have ‘needs’? I wasn’t even sure that the living machines had…” she paused, thinking on how to put what she was saying “parts”

Hanz was surprised by this. That topic had never come up before. Of course he had “parts” but it had never been discussed. “Yes, we living machines have needs, just like any human. Also yes, we do have ‘parts’ just like any human. Slightly larger of course but we have them. They’re just concealed until they’re needed.”

She would live the rest of her life never knowing what drove her to ask this question but without thinking it just came out. “Can I see?”

Hanz was astonished. No human had ever asked him anything like this before. Was it just curiosity or did she want something more. He could feel an intense passion welling up inside him, a feeling he had almost forgot existed. It had been too long since he had felt anything like this. “I-If you want” he didn’t really know what else to say.

“There is an abandoned barn, just on the outskirts of town. Nobody goes there”

Hanz had trouble keeping his engine in check. He was so excited his RPMs wanted to skyrocket and take off in a dead sprint down the cobblestone road. He kept the pace slow and steady for her sake.

She hopped off as they came to a stop in front of the large wooden door at the front of a tattered old barn. “The farmer who owned this farm was killed during the Blitzkrieg, with no family to tend it almost everything was taken for the war effort” she said as she unlatched and began pulling open the door.

It was a fairly large barn, large enough for even a heavy tank like himself to move around in relative comfort. She motioned him inside, watching his heavy treads pressing into the straw covered ground as he backed in. Taking one final look around to ensure none were watching she closed the door.

The barn was completely black with the exception of rays of moonlight that broke through cracks on the tattered roof. She moved over to a lamp hanging on the wall and lit it with a match from the box she kept in her pocket. The room was suddenly bathed in the warm flickering glow of the flame that danced in the glass.

She had never felt more timid in her life. Standing in front of her was one of the most dangerous machines to ever to enter the field of battle, but something felt human about him, something felt alive in a way she had never thought of a vehicle before. She still had no idea what had driven her to ask this tank the question she did.

She cautiously took a step toward him, looking over his massive armored figure. Almost without thinking she extended a hand, gently running her fingers over the sharp edges of one of the many craters that adorned his body, the remnant of one of his many battles.

“Does it hurt?” she asked softly, a hint of concern in her voice.

“No” He said his turret turning a few degrees left and right as if shaking his head

In the center the raw metal was shinny and smooth to the touch. Even though he said it didn’t hurt she still couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“I never properly introduced myself” Hanz continued “I am Panzerkampfwagen VI Tiger I Ausf.E Number 331, but Hanz is much easier to remember”

She was still transfixed by his many battle scars, hardly able imagine what he had seen. “I’m Heida” she said softly, her mind absent in thought, still trying to take it all in. She became lost in her senses, the smell of hay and gunpowder, the rough coating on his armor. She still had no idea why she was here, what had compelled her to seek privacy with a tank.

It took her a second to snap back to reality, noticing that big green eye staring at her. She smiled pleasantly at him, “I’m sorry if my asking made you uncomfortable but, something about you seemed…” Her pause filled him with uncertainty, he needed to know what she was going to say, “Pleasant.”

This caught the Panzer off guard. He had been called a lot of things in his short existence, titan, wonder weapon, rolling fortress, but never once pleasant.

“Now, you said you would show me?” she walked up to him and softly placed a hand on his track cover, smiling as she thought of the powerful machine at her fingertips.

He as he stared into the beautiful girl’s starry blue eyes. “I did.”

Her gaze shifted to his driver view port as parts began shifting and the entire apparatus fell forward, revealing a dark opening. Her mouth fell open in amazement as she watched what emerged. Inch by inch a large gunmetal gray appendage emerged from his armored hull until it reached its full length. It was impossible to mistake what she was looking at, even despite its mechanical appearance its purpose was evident. The blunt head bore a slit at the tip that had already become wet with an unknown silvery liquid. Her eyes followed its length, just below the head it narrowed a few millimeters, leading to a long continuous surface, ribbed by overlapping rings of the living metal that made up his entire body. Sixteen inches of raw Panzer terminated in a metal ring, becoming a series of tubes and mechanics that went back into the blackness of his hull.

What was he thinking, exposing himself to this girl? He was a proud German soldier, not one of those red devils to the east. He watched her reaction uneasily as she stared at his manhood.

Without warning and to Hanz’s great surprise she reached out and took his cock tenderly in both hands, sending a tremor through the massive tank’s frame, his cock throbbing eagerly at her touch. This unexpected stimulation sent a jolt all the way to his core bringing his engine roaring back to life and almost setting off the, still loaded, 88 cannon. Hanz had never felt the warm touch of human hands on his cock, they were unbelievably soft and smooth. He felt like he could almost feel the pulse of her heart.

Heida couldn’t believe what she had just done, this wasn’t right, he was a machine, but something about it just felt so right. His cock was pleasantly warm and responded to her touch, every movement making it throb and pulse. She began running her hands up and down its surface just feeling the tank. Her fingers rose and fell with each rib of his shaft, her thumbs rubbing to test feel how hard he was. Not to her surprise, the Panzer was hard as steel but yet, the shaft felt smooth and inviting, this was easily the softest metal she had ever felt. Progressing along his manhood, she moved her way up to the Tiger’s tip, feeling her thumbs around the ridge of his head before then, moving them up onto the head itself. His tip was softer than the rock hard shaft, she felt her thumbs able to massage the head while her fingers worked the sensitive base. She was slightly surprised when a thick, warm, silvery fluid began seeping from his slit. She couldn’t avoid getting it on her hands as more and more of the Panzer’s mystery goo began oozing from him. It, to her, smelled mechanical in a way, not like a dirty mechanic’s shop but something she could only describe as “machine-y”. The slick juices made the massage ten times easier and eventually she decided to introduce the new goo to the rest of his shaft, her hands gliding up and down his length with the greatest of ease.

Hanz had never felt anything like this before in his life. The sensations of her hands running up and down his shaft, servicing him in a way he never had before, made his tracks tremble. Clumps of still moist dirt and sod fell free from his suspension, introducing the smell of a freshly plowed field into the barn. As soon as she began using his pre to lube up the process he almost couldn’t take it. He had found machines before to satisfy his needs, once with a very grateful Bf 110, but in the hands of a human he was a virgin. He closed his eyes, allowing the feeling to sink into every bolt and weld on his body. When he opened them he looked down to see the girl, hands covered in his semitransparent machine pre, smiling up at him.

Heida released his cock from her grasp, allowing the erection to stand freely, still spurting the occasional glob of pre. She could hardly believe the weight of the girth she had held in her hands. Even his juices seemed to carry weight. He must have been inches wide, she couldn’t even wrap a whole hand around it. Again she looked up into the Tiger’s green eyes and gave the most pleasant smile she could, just from his reactions she could tell this tank was in heaven. As soon as she heard his engine slow a little she made her next move. Without warning him Heida took her hands, wrapped them around his thickness and pulled it toward her. Without a moment’s hesitation she opened her mouth and took in as much of the Tiger as she could.

The amount she could take in paled in comparison to his total length but the sensation was enough to make Hanz almost jump out of his armored skin as she began sucking at him. “My dear, this is amazing” he moaned as soon as he was able to regain his composure. He couldn’t help the globs of pre that gushed into her mouth as she sucked and licked at his cock. Her hands joined in, using the copious amounts of lube to slide her hands up and down his length. Her tongue was a miracle of the human body. Hanz could feel it rubbing hard against the base of his head then moving up to the Reichspfening sized slit at his tip, which she tongued vigorously drawing more and more from it.

She hardly noticed as the bow gun retracted, opening into another black hole to his inner workings. From it came a small metallic manipulator hand connected to a snaking tendril made up of linked metal segments. It made its way to her head, gently undoing the bun that held her hair. Hanz couldn’t help but run the sensitive metal fingers through her silky soft blond hair. Hundreds of tiny strands that made up this pleasant oddity, exclusive to organic beings.

She has only been at it a couple of minutes before the mighty Tiger could take it no longer. “Stop, stop Heida you must” Hanz moaned as his engines began flaring up. In North Africa Hanz had encountered a problem with overheating when his engine would rev uncontrollably from what humans called “adrenaline” in the heat of battle. He eventually mastered his engine but once again he found himself unable to control it at the hands of this woman.

“So the German Panzer gives up” she taunted playfully, removing him from her mouth.

Hanz almost laughed as he saw her lips had become gray with the goo, a thin trail leading from her mouth to a drop forming on her chin. Noticing it, she took her right pointer finger and wiped the mess from her lips. Hanz almost fell to pieces as he watched her take the finger and placed it in her mouth then slowly and seductively begin withdrawing it from her pursed lips, ending with a “pop” of suction.

Never breaking eye contact with Hanz she took a couple steps backward and reached for the buttons on her thick overcoat, one by one unbuttoning them until she reached the last one. Hanz realized that anything could be under there. It was a thick coat and he honestly had no idea what she would look like.

She completed unbuttoning the final button then pulled the jacket apart and let it fall to the hay. Hanz was awestruck. Even being an armored vehicle he had a firm grasp of what human standards considered a perfect figure and without a doubt she had it. She then moved to the belt at the waist of her blouse. Feeding the material back through the buckle she let it hang loose from its loops then began on the buttons. One by one Hanz was brought closer to what he wanted. As soon as the last button was undone she pulled the blouse off and it to fell to the hay. A bra that held, the pent up form of the most beautiful breasts he had ever seen. The bra must have been a few sizes too small because she seemed to be almost flowing out of them. Hanz could almost feel sorry for the fabric straps that had to hold them in. Without a pause she moved onto the zipper of her dress, drawing it down just enough so she could slip out.

“Do you always leave the house in lace panties” Hanz said looking over what could easily be mistaken as skimpy lingerie.

She smiled “If they’re bothering you I can take them off.” She didn’t want to sound like a tramp but that opportunity was too good to miss.

Hanz was too ready. His impossibly hard cock throbbed, longing to be inside this girl, still oozing the hot machine lube.

She had enough of playing around. She reached around her back and unfastened the bra’s clasp. Like a river her beautiful breasts flowed out finally free from their prison. If Hanz had lips he would have licked them. Showing off her perfect cleavage she began rubbing her hands across her beautifully round, perky breasts. Pausing to trace the circle around her tender pink tissue around her firm nipple before mashing the two mounds together.

She could tell by the look in the Tank’s eyes that there was no explaining just how much he was enjoying this. He noticed just before she turned away that there was a noticeable wet spot between her legs. That meant there was no doubt she was enjoying this to.

Running her hands along the seductive curves of her ass and under the fabric she began slowly pushing down the undergarment until they fell freely to the ground. Hanz was still in disbelief, she had the most perfectly formed round ass and the legs to go with it. She turned back to Hanz to check his reaction.

He had seen the magazines the tankers passed around but nothing on those pages compared to the Aryan goddess that stood naked in front of him. The light from the lamp behind he seemed to outline her in gold, portraying her as the angle she must have been before coming to earth.

“You’ve never seen a human woman naked before, yes?”

Hanz shook his turret again, “Never”

“Well, feel free to explore me Hanz”

She took a couple steps closer to him wearing nothing but her scarf and high heels. Hanz’s manipulator hand started by pulling the scarf from around her neck, letting it fall. Two snakelike tendrils joined the first from either side of the opening at the driver’s viewport. They made their way to her breasts, cupping them, feeling their weight. Hanz had never felt anything like these. They were so soft and malleable. He squished and squeezed them with his tendrils, pressing them together and letting them go to watch them bounce.

Unnoticed to her another tendril slithered from the bow gunner’s slot, down his frontal armor and along his front. Hanz could feel the heat as he drew closer and closer to the dripping slit between her legs. Her eyes shot open with surprise as the tendril found the lips of her pussy and pushed inside. The feeling was so intense she collapsed forward, her breasts squishing and forming pancakes against his armored bow. He chuckled, very pleased with the results. Another tendril joined in following the path of the first but this time a couple centimeters higher, finding the Knob of nerve and flesh that he had heard would make human women “melt”.

Melting wasn’t the exact way he would describe what happened as he began massaging and digging away at her clit. He would have used the words convulsed and writhed to describe her reaction. She moaned and thrashed against him as the assault continued. He felt the heat of her breath against his hull as the first tendril found her G-spot and relentlessly began rubbing it. Her hot juices flowed down his tendrils before dripping onto the ground.

“Hanz, stop!” she moaned, her cheek pressed to his armor, “Fuck Hanz, I’m about to cum!”

“So who’s giving up now, Fräulein” he taunted, getting her back for her previous comment.

She let out a long sigh of relief as the tendrils withdrew and she was able to stand again.

“Now do you want to come up here for the real fun” Hanz said as she wiped off the dirt and twigs and twigs that clung to her breasts.

Heida bent over pressing her perfectly formed ass against the spare track section on his bow as she removed her shoes, making little motions so her ass was rubbed against as much of the tank as possible. She moved over to his treads and began climbing up, her bare feet having trouble finding footholds on the tracks so a couple of Hanz’s tendrils helped lift her onto the bow of the tank.

“Heida, I can’t thank you enough for doing this. You will be the first human woman I’ve been with, for a machine this is a most rare experience”

“You must be joking, I would have thought there would be women constantly after this a tank like yourself.” Hanz enjoyed her warm smile, almost as much as he enjoyed her warm feet and hands against his armor plating as she made her way to the ledge just in front of his turret and sat down.

Between her knees she could feel the heat radiating from his stiff cock. “So what do we do now?”

“You don’t worry about a thing liebchen. Let me do all the heavy lifting” Hanz said as a cluster of tendrils and manipulator hands emerged from both ports. A pair of large manipulator hands took a gently grip on her thighs while tendrils coiled around her waist and began lifting her. For her this would have been horrifying had she not known all this tank wanted was love. One of his tendrils snaked its way up her side and began wrapping itself around one of her breasts, lightly squeezing the soft tissue making her boob bulge like a balloon. Another of his manipulator hands found its way onto to her other breast. One of the fingers began rubbing and playing with her nipple.

He raised her over his cock, his stiff member throbbing harder than ever in anticipation of being able to push inside this beautiful girl. Two more tendrils wrapped around her legs and spread them wide, he would need her as open as possible to fit such girth.

She could feel his heat as she neared his cock. He slowly let her down until the tip of his member pressed against her wet lips. “Be brave my dear, the first time may hurt a little.” He moved her back and forth a few times, slathering her opening with the silvery paste, he hoped this would help make things easier. She could begin to feel pressure as he began to lower her. Little by little her lips began to stretch, sending small jolts of pain through her as his huge member tried to gain entrance. She winced and moaned as his dick pushed harder and harder. She had to bite her lip to keep from screaming aloud as more and more of him began pushing inside her. She let out a hiss as she felt it begin to slide in.

Hanz let out a deep moan of pleasure as his head slipped through her stretched opening. Already he could feel globs of hot pre squirting inside her, lubricating her insides. His machine lovers had been soft but none like this girl. She was so tight on him and even as he pushed in her body clamped down on him with a force he had never expected. Inch by inch he went deeper, going slowly so he wouldn’t hurt her. He stopped at around six inches, unsure how deep he could go without hurting her. His engine had responded to the stimulation, holding him at an idle as she sat there his member buried inside her.

Heida could feel evert inch as it entered her body. On the up side it was warm and stimulated every possible surface in every possible way, his ribbed surface seeming to be designed to stimulate the female body. On the other hand she had never stretched before. She reached down and thought she could almost feel a light bulging in her lower stomach. She wondered how this tank didn’t actually split her in half. Another plus was the hot globs of pre she could feel rolling into her body, warming her insides. The feeling of having a Panzer inside her was the most intense feeling she had ever felt, there was no comparison.

She felt a tendril come up and begin stroking her cheek, “It may hurt a little now but, you will love this just as much as I will” Hanz said softly in her ear, taking a little bit of her mind off the pain.

Hanz slowly began lifting her off. She felt every inch leaving her until only his head remained inside her. Her moans and heavy breaths were music to Hanz’s ears. Her labored breaths matched the gentle revving oh his engine as they both caught up with that was happening.

She trembled softly as he began lowering her again, his member driving into her still tight body. More and more of his thick liquid continued flowing into her. She wondered just how much he had in those tanks.

This time he went a little deeper, going until his tip gently brushed the delicate knot of her cervix, he now knew just how much she could take. “Are you ready?” Hanz said, a tendril running over her silky soft skin.

“Yes Hanz” she panted, placing a hand on his cannon as she readied for whatever he had planned.

He pushed into her again, only faster this time and after he reached depth he didn’t stop, he pulled back and repeated the cycle. She couldn’t help herself any longer. She let out a loud shout of pleasure stirring birds that had taken roost in the rafters. Nothing in her life had made her as happy as she was being made love to by one of Germany’s most powerful machines of war. Hanz felt the same way he loved the feeling of being buried deep in this human, his engine revving with joy.

He picked it up faster and faster until he found the pace he liked. She bounced up and down as he moaned and grunted with pleasure. The pre inside her began mounting as more and more was added with each powerful thrust. The piston action of his cock began forcing the sticky liquid out around the edges of his cock. It was expelled with such force that it squirted all over his armor and the inside of her legs, making one hell of a mess. Puddles of the stuff had begun forming on his bow armor, rolling down the incline and off into the hay. More powerful thrusts had her toes curled around the lip of his frontal armor as she moaned for more of the tiger inside her.

By this point the side effects of his machine liquids began really start to take effect. She could feel herself becoming lightheaded, gradually slipping into a state of euphoria. She could hardly feel the pain of his massive member inside her anymore. All cares in the world seemed to slip away as this mighty machine of a man made love to her.

She could feel herself getting caught up in the intensity of everything. “Come on Hanz, I know you’ve got more in you. Show me that fearsome Tiger reputation.” she moaned through quakes of pleasure as he bounced her up and down, penetrating her over and over again.

As she wished, he decided to kick it up a notch, dispatching one of his manipulator hands to just above her overextended pussy and again found the fleshy knot of her clit. The fingers flicked, fondled, kneaded and massaged her to ecstasy, playing with it in every possible way. She cried out in pleasure, louder than she ever had before as she was stimulated beyond belief.

Hanz could feel something mounting deep in his frame. They had only been going for fifteen minutes, he had to make it last longer. If he was to die tomorrow, he wanted tonight to last for as long as possible. The chaotic motions ceased and he lifted her off his cock, the suction producing a wet pop as it was removed.

“What’s wrong Hanz, did I do something” she questioned, worried she had done something to upset him.

His RPMs slowed back to idle as he caught his breath. “No my dear, I just can’t let this end so soon. A soldier has to realize that each time may be his last so he must make the most of every moment.”

He released her from his grasp and placed her back on the ledge. She honestly felt sympathy for the tank. She had never thought of it that way before, that these machines could die to, that they feared death just like any other soldier on the battlefield. “I’m yours all night Hanz, you big adorable tank.” Smiling she pressed her lips against his gun mantlet and have him a lingering kiss on the face then, curled as close to him as she could so he could feel her skin against his.

They cuddled for nearly half an hour, Heida giving him kiss after kiss, rubbing his battle scars hoping her touch made the damage Hanz had received feel even the slightest bit better.

“Did you have anything in mind for the next part?” She said getting up from her resting place. She turned to face Hanz her knees on either side of the drivers hatch.

“Just stay right where you are.” He said, extending a tendril which wrapped around her waist and leaned her forward. Hanz felt a spike in RPMs as her plump human breasts were pressed against his gun mantlet. His cock extended even further from its housing until it was again right between her legs. The large manipulator hands from before reached up and grabbed big handfuls of her luscious ass and gently spread them apart.

This time she grinned, closing her eyes as the he entered the warmth of her sopping folds. Now that she had become accustomed to his girth it didn’t hurt so much when he penetrated, in fact, it was almost pleasurable.

From this position she could now play a part. She rolled her hips back and forth on his shaft, feeling his hot liquids flowing into her again. Hanz couldn’t believe the ways this human could move, it was so fluid, so graceful. Her breasts rubbed up and down against his face with each erotic motion as fluids began seeping from her, creating a pool of the thick silvery goodness in the dented in driver’s hatch.

His hands continued caressing and kneading her ass cheeks, they felt like nothing he had ever felt before. She moaned and rode until he could take it no longer. This time there was not getting her off to prolong the experience. With each thrust his revs became louder, his RPM’s steadily rising until his engine was almost deafening. He shuddered and shook as the climax finally came his engine absolutely red lining. An ungodly amount of his hot tank seed gushed into her, filling every nook and cranny she as he took hold and continued pumping into her. The excess spilled out, some running down her legs but, most pouring out onto his hull. He felt like his pistons would break through his engine block the orgasm is so good.

Heida moaned right along with him as he pumped liters of seed onto her, the feeling of him exploding inside her driving her to climax right after him.

Her weak arms grasped the gun mantlet, trying to keep herself from falling flat on top of him as she worked to catch her breath. It was as if he had zapped every ounce of energy from her body. “Hanz, that was incredible” she said still breathless.

Gently he removed himself from her, unleashing a torrent of tank cum from her body. Taking one last deep breath she rolled herself over and sat down, leaning back on his turret and resting her head on the gun. She was exhausted, high and enjoying the afterglow. She didn’t even care that she was sitting in a puddle of tank goo, in fact in this moment in time it felt nice. She wanted to cuddle Hanz forever, just wrap her arms around that gun and give him a big hug.

“I can’t believe I just made love to a tank” she said, thinking of just how absurd that itself sounded “I never for a second imagined as I was walking home that I would end up with a Tiger inside me. Now, without him inside her, she felt somehow empty. She had gotten to like being crammed full by Hanz.

“You have done a great service to a lonely soldier. I can never repay you for all that you’ve done for me”

“Will I see you again” she interrupted.

“Liebchen, I don’t know. I hope I will, maybe even come back after the war. If you would like that?”

“I think I would” she said, smiling as she held herself close to the Panzer.

“Do you hear something” Heida said sitting up and looking towards the door.

Tires came to a halt on the dirt just outside the door and the rumble of an engine could be heard through the wooden door. Hanz listened closely, he could hear muffled words exchanged then with another rumble of the engine the vehicle tore off.

There was no time to hide or get dressed and pretend like nothing happened. They both stared anxiously at the door, waiting to see who would come through.

The door creaked as it swung open and a man walked in. Hanz let out a deep sigh of relief as he saw Karl, dressed up in his SS black.

“Well what do we have here?” Karl said inquisitively, smiling at his tank “How does my tank find a fräulein to roll in the hay with and I can’t find a bottle of decent scotch?”

“Karl, you scared the hell out of us. How did you find us?”

“Hanz do realize what you are asking?” Karl raised an eyebrow, “how did I find 54 tonnes of tank?” he said sarcastically. “I followed your tracks you fool. What’s your name miss?”

“Heida, Heida von Schauss” she replied timidly. She knew the reputations of these black uniformed SS men.

“Hanz you lucky fool. You don’t even know who you have here, do you?” Karl laughed, “The actress…”

Hanz shook his turret.

“Well just know you got very lucky”

Heida was red with embarrassment. Not only had some strange man walked in on her, naked, still covered in her tank lover’s seed but, she hadn’t acted since the war and before that she was hardly even noteworthy.

“My dear” he said turning to Heida who still sat naked on Hanz’s hull, doing her best to cover as much of herself as possible. “You wouldn’t happen to know where one might find a decent bottle of scotch, I’ll settle for fair at this point”

She quietly nodded and carefully began crawling down off Hanz.

Karl couldn’t help but stare at her nude body as she hastily began redressing herself, even despite still being coated in all the things Hanz had given her.

Karl could sense a note of sadness as she dashed off into the night. “I can’t believe it, how does a tank manage to get a beautiful fräulein to sleep with him”

“You’re just jealous” Hanz replied, retracting all his parts back into their respective slots. Again returning to the appearance of a standard Tiger I tank.

“Eh” Karl said shrugging, there was a little truth to this.

“Karl, is there anyone else here?”

“No” Karl replied “that is unless you have any girls stashed in the hay. Why, what is it?”

Hanz thought for a moment but, there was no other way to put it, “Karl we’re not going to survive this war. We’ve been lucky so far but…”

“I wouldn’t call four years and 3 different campaigns luck” Karl interrupted, “what are you getting at?”

“Karl don’t you see, this war is over.”

“Now how do you see that?” Karl was fairly sure what Hanz was getting at, but wanted to give him a chance to change his point.

“Can’t you see?” Desperation slipping into the tank’s voice, “The Allies are days away from the Rhine River and the Communists are pushing on Berlin. BERLIN, the capitol of the German Reich!” Hanz was sure he couldn’t have made it any clearer, “We’ve lost.”

He couldn’t believe he was hearing this. The tank he had fought alongside for most of the war conceding defeat. Karl put a hand over his face, rubbing his brow as he let out a sigh “Hanz, you know this is treason, right?” He looked his tank straight in the eye “They can’t shoot you like they would any soldier expressing such beliefs” he said, his tone slowly rising “they will send you back to Kassel and have you torn apart for spare parts for Tigers who are still willing to fight!” By this point it had become a yell. He reached in his uniform and pulled out the Knights Cross, holding it out so there was no way Hanz couldn’t see it, “I was awarded this for bravery in battle in the name of the Reich by our Führer Adolf Hitler. Did you forget that, OUR Führer?”

“I remember, I was there…”

Karl cut him off, “and did you also forget these words ‘absolute allegiance until death. So help me God’, our oath before God and the Führer?”

“Karl, can’t you see? Our thousand year Reich has been cut down to mere months. We will fall for something that had already fallen.”

“Then we’ll die, die a hero’s death, Hanz. I will never surrender. Is that what you want? You want us to surrender? Which will it be, the red dogs to the east, or will it be to the American horde to the west? No, I would rather die on my feet, behind a gun, than spend a single day in one of their camps, treated like a herd of cattle.”

Hanz had never known a man more loyal than Karl but, he could understand that, Karl had made the SS his family. “Karl, I never said surrender. What we have to do is survive.”

“Oh, so run away, that’s what you want to do?”

Hanz began getting frustrated with his stubborn attitude “We can live Karl! We don’t have to die for nothing. If we were to die tomorrow it would not be for the Fatherland, it would be for the dead ideals of a collapsing government”

Karl was dumbfounded, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Hanz, the tank he had fought countless battles with, a brave soldier of the German people, now asking him to turn tail and run. He could feel his blood almost at a boiling point. “Hanz, you will return to the motor pool and NEVER speak of this again.”

Karl stepped aside, giving Hanz a harsh glare as he passed by and headed down the road to the Reinbach garrison camp. He shook his head. He couldn’t believe Hanz could think that way. After all they’d been through, the battles they’d fought in the name of Germany and now he was doubting the war.

He turned and began the kilometer long walk back to the city center.

 

Hours had passed as Hanz sat under the overhang in the Reinbach motor pool, alone with the exception of the other non-living vehicles. He knew this was punishment for his comments as he usually would have been in his own large maintenance tent in the tanker’s area. ‘How could Karl be so blind?’ he thought to himself. Hanz knew he was an intelligent man, not one of the weak willed that blindly followed the man with the loudest voice. It was the strength of his will that would be his downfall.

Hanz was about to doze off into what the machines would most closely associate with sleep when he heard something behind him. Unable to traverse his turret far enough to see he called out, “Who’s there?”

“Be quiet you fool!” Karl whispered, approaching him from behind, having to squeeze between Hanz and the vehicle next to him to get to his front. Karl carried a large duffle bag in one hand and an MG-42 machine gun over his left shoulder, a couple hundred rounds draped over the barrel.

“What are you doing here?” Hanz asked, confused as to why Karl would be there in the middle of the night.

“We’re getting out of here.”

“So you understood what I was saying?”

“It does make sense, I only hope there will be a Germany after the war. Now Hanz we have to hurry. I have family about two hundred kilometers from here so we’ll need to pack some extra fuel”

Karl threw his gear on Hanz’s bow, “Why did you bring a machine gun?”

“Because I like it.”

“Well, you like Pak 44’s do you want me to tow one of those along to.”

Karl paused for a moment ‘that would make a good souvenir’ he thought to himself. “Oh stop complaining” he finally said walking over to the refueling station.

“What about Woll?”

“I talked to him. He said he would find his own way home.”

Karl began hefting cans of fuel up onto Hanz’s hull while Hanz put them inside the turret just barely fitting them through the narrow hatch. Hanz sucked fuel at a staggering rate so they would need this to get to where they were going.

Karl climbed up the side, attaching the MG mount he had pilfered from the armory and hooking up his black metal beast of a machine gun. He flipped on an internal light and noticed the fully stocked ammunition slots. “What’s all this for, I thought you wanted to quit the war?”

“And I thought you wanted to keep fighting”

 

 

 

 

PART III

05 March 1945, 2145

Reinbach, Germany

Sturmbannführer Karl Holtz (DESERTER), Tiger I Hanz (DESERTER)

Deserted from duty, SS Heavy Panzer Company, 1^st Platoon, 5^th Panzer Army

 

Hanz and Karl made their way out of the garrison as quietly as a Panzer could but anyone who did notice was smart enough not to question the business of a SS Tiger. It was only a few kilometers to Remagen, as soon as they crossed that bridge they were home free. He almost had to remind himself to breath as they passed the tanks and heavy guns that guarded one of the last bridges into the heart of Germany. If the Allies managed to capture the bridge in tact the war might as well be over. None of the soldiers said anything about the Tiger going the wrong direction but Karl could feel their eyes watching him, just waiting for one of them to stop him and question where he thought he was going.

Hanz slowed as he approached the lip of the bridge. He hated bridges, he hated everything about them. A tank was supposed to be on the ground, solid, firm ground, not on a flimsy piece of wood and metal. He hated being afraid of something so stupid, he was supposed to be the fearsome Tiger.

“Hanz, we have to keep going.” Karl urged, “Every second we waist, we risk being caught.”

He didn’t have to tell him, Hanz knew it. He moved slowly until his treads felt the bridge under him. He had felt the same way on the boats to and from Africa. He cruised at a slow easy pace across the bridge. Every creak and groan from the stressed metal under his tracks sent chills all through his frame. Hitting the halfway point he could see the other side clearly. With all the speed his engine would give him he bolted for the far side.
“That’s it Hanz” Karl said, patting his turret as they reached the far side and began southeast along the road that traced the river.

They hadn’t even been traveling long before Karl dozed off in his commander’s seat, somehow able to fall asleep despite the powerful engine roaring behind him, Hanz had taken the map and began navigating himself, he knew Karl needed the rest.

He had no idea how long it had been before he was awoken as Hanz came to a stop. “Halt, who goes there!” he heard a voice shout, but something was wrong about this voice. Karl rubbed his eyes and stood to see what was going on.

“Identify yourself or I’ll shoot you!”

Karl couldn’t believe it. The boy could have been no older than 15, the K 98 rifle he held looked to be nearly as tall as he was. The sleeves of the oversized uniform almost went all the way over his hands. Everything he wore was too large. He had to keep pushing his helmet back up every time it fell over his eyes. Karl looked to his right and saw another boy, maybe even younger, trying to keep up the bulging head of a Panzerfaust, his uniform just as improperly sized.

“I said I’ll shoot!” the boy repeated.

Karl couldn’t believe this, this boy had no business being out after curfew, not to mention holding a rifle. “Do you know what this means” Karl said pulling on his collar tab. The boy’s demeanor changed in an instant.

“This means SS Sturmbannführer”

“I’m sorry sir” he said lowering the rifle and looking to the ground as if his mother had just yelled at him for breaking a lamp.

War was no place for a boy and Karl hated doing this but he had to keep his cover. “Now stand aside.”

The boy moved out of the way and allowed them to pass. Karl slumped back into his seat. “Hanz, is this what this war has come to? We’re using children to fight?”

“Karl you knew about this, Hitler mobilized the Volkssturm. The young, the sick, the old, everyone is to die in this war in the name of his Reich.”

Karl shook his head in disbelief, how could it have come to this.

It would be another five and a half hours until they reached the hill just on the outskirts of Battenberg, the small town where Karl had grown up. At Karl’s request, Hanz pulled into a patch of trees, out of sight of the town. “Now, you wait here, I’ve got to go into town and figure a few things out.” Karl grabbed a plain gray overcoat from his duffle to cover his uniform and started walking into town.

The main street was for the most part empty, save a few shop owners moving carts out onto the sidewalk in preparation to open. He couldn’t hardly believe it, this town seemed untouched by the war. There were no bomb craters or piles of rubble where a building had been, no banners or propaganda, it seemed the same as when he had left six years ago. Karl checked his watch, just a little past seven, people would just be getting up. Looking down the street, he saw an elderly woman come walking out of one of the apartments and begin down the street. He recognized her as Frau Brünhauser, one of his primary school teachers.

“Frau Brünhauser?” Karl said placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder, the startle almost making the old woman jump out of her skin.

“Oh, Karl, you startled me.” she said, letting out a sigh of relief “I thought you were off in the war.”

“My service ended.” Karl said, coming up with the quickest lie he could, “How is my family?”

He got a bad feeling as her expression quickly turned “Nobody told you?” she wanted desperately not to be the bearer of this bad news, but Karl quickly got the feeling he knew what she was about to say “After your brother died on the Eastern Front your mother couldn’t take it. She became ill last year” Karl could tell by the look in old woman’s eyes that it hurt telling him this. “A few months ago she gave into the sickness.”

Karl couldn’t fight the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had no one else. “Your family’s farm is still there. The bürgermeister wouldn’t let the city take it until the war was over, most assumed you to be dead.”

Karl nodded, trying to keep his composure, “Thank you Frau. Now, I have a few things to attend to so would you be so kind as to not tell anyone I’m back.”

She nodded sympathetically, “Goodbye Karl.”

He had all he needed to know, even if he hated what he now knew. The walk seemed a lot longer as he headed back to the thicket where Hanz was hiding.

“What’s the matter Karl?” Hanz could clearly see something was very wrong.

“You know big guy, you’re all I’ve got now.” Karl said placing a hand on Hanz’s armor and immediately Hanz knew. “Let’s get going.” Something about Hanz’s engine rumbling to life made him feel a little better, Hanz was the closest thing he had to family now.

They backtracked down the main road a few hundred meters before turning onto a winding dirt road. It didn’t take long before they reached the reached the Holtz family farm. It had been years since Karl had seen home. The small single story house was just as he remembered. The brown paint had begun to fade and the unkempt grass and weeds had begun growing up around the porch, but it was home.

Perched right at the foot of a mountain, the farm had a fair sized barn and stables for animals that had no doubt been taken rather than left for dead. Just to the east was rolling grassy green hills that seemed to go off into nowhere.

Karl jumped down, taking it all in. The clean mountain air was a pleasant change over smoke and decaying flesh. “Hanz, this is home now. The barn hopefully should be a nice fit for you.” Karl took off his SS cover and placed it on Hanz’s bow, “We’re going to have to lay low for a while. We’re both deserters from the German army so, you’re going to have to stay on the farm from now on.” It hurt telling Hanz he was going to be in hiding for the rest of his existence. “Anyhow, I don’t think there’s enough petrol within a hundred kilometers to fill that tank of yours and you’re almost empty. Just think of it this way, we’re going to make it.”

Over the next few months Karl listened to Nazi propaganda radio broadcasts cease and in their place English broadcasts declaring victory and the unconditional surrender of Nazi Germany. On 8 May 1945 the second Great War came to an end. His uniforms and medals had been buried in a metal box behind the house, every piece of his past in the war hidden under a foot of dirt, dirt him and so many others had fought to defend. Hanz stayed on the farm, hiding himself in the barn whenever company came around. He longed to be with other people but knew what it would mean if he were discovered. From time to time he sat in the fields just enjoying the feeling of the sun on his armor and the gently brush of the long grass on his tracks.

Karl had slowly slipped into the rural lifestyle, his facial hair had grown out into a decent beard and he had taken to wearing his father’s tattered work clothing as he tended to the renewed farm. While this was nothing compared to his military service he had gained some comfort in the monotony. He found some guilty solace in the thought that he had survive where so many hadn’t.

 

 

 

PART IV

15 September 2031, 0923

Tri-Star Group corporate building

Chase Weber

 

Chase turned as he heard the frantic “click-clack” of high heels on marble coming towards him. Almost tripping over herself, came the overzealous head of the Heritage Corps’ Research and Recovery Team, running down the hallway.

In 2030, Chase had begun a massive undertaking known as the Heritage Corps. The mission of the Heritage Corps was to create the largest and most complete collection of military vehicles and artifacts dating back to the First World War both living and not. Through this, he would preserve the heritage of these machines, providing a museum of sorts with the machines themselves as the docents. In only a year and a half he had amassed a formidable collection. However, even with his wealth of resources a number of vehicles eluded his grasp, these vehicles made their way onto his famous “Pick List”, the most elusive, finding a place on the “White List”. The Pick List had become the dubious task of the scholarly Savahanna Wilde.

“Mr. Weber, Mr. Weber!” Savahana called out as she approached, her pristine English accent as strong as the day he’d stole her away from Bovington.

“What is it?” Chase said, genuinely afraid she was about to fall flat on her face. “If it’s a pair of running shoes you’re after, I think we can work something out.”

“No, I have something important for you.” The humor obviously went right over her head.

“Well let’s go inside and talk about this.”

She followed him into the large open office that took up a majority of the top floor. He sat behind his desk and she took the chair to its front. “Alright what is this most urgent news?”

“It’s about the White list.” She started, “Kubinka said they would be willing to talk about trying to start negotiate for the Maus, but didn’t promise anything.” She opened her notes, “I tried my best with Bovington, pulled all the strings I had but they still won’t give up 131. They insist there is absolutely no way they will part with that tank.”

“So did you bring me any good news?” All of that could have been covered in an email so Chase knew she must have something important.

“We think we’ve found something.” A wide smile shot across her face, “A Tiger”

She now had his utmost interest, “Are we talking about another rusted out hull in the bottom of a lake?”

“No sir. According to late German war records an SS tank commander went AWOL with his Tiger and was never seen again. We think we’ve traced it down to a small town in western Germany.”

“Is the information solid?”

“Solid enough that I would like to ask to send a team to investigate.”

He thought about it for a moment. “Don’t bother.” Chace said seeing an opportunity, “Just forward me the details. I think this could make a good vacation.”

Chase reached to the panel on his desk and keyed call button and his personal assistant picked up, “Evan, call Anya, ask her to pack my things and get ready for a flight to Europe.”

“Did you talk to her, sir? Last time she started yelling at me in Russian.” Evans voice came through the desk speaker.

“Yeah, she should be ok.” Chase almost laughed. Evan had caught her on a bad day and his ear had paid the price, “Also call up the airfield and tell them to have Eagle 1 ready for the flight”

At noon, Chase and Anya boarded the custom AN-225 and set off on the long flight, enjoying the benefits of owning a private jet by renewing their memberships to the mile high club multiple times.

Chase followed the notes he had been provided by the research team and eventually found the daughter of an SS Sturmbannführer, Karl Holtz. From her, Chase got all he needed to know.

In Reinbach, Germany the descendants of Anna Holtz were selling a piece of the estate that had been in the family for generations. It was prime real estate but with the market in its current state the price made it well out of reasonable reach. Going on a hunch Chase bought the property up front. Even if there was no Tiger at least he would be able to build a decent vacation home.

Later that afternoon, Anya set down in the grassy field a few hundred meters from an extremely neglected farm. Two weeks of trekking across Europe and he was finally here.

“You know there’s supposed to be a Nazi tank in there, Right?” Anya said as her rotors slowed to a stop, “During that time your people and his didn’t have the best of relations.”

Chase laughed, “Neither did yours.”

“Denton just outfitted me with these new AGMs, I feel something’s going wrong, you better take cover because I will rocket the whole place.” Chase thanked god she hadn’t lost her accent during her time in America. “That’s why I love you Anya.” He said placing a kiss on his Hinds cheek.

After making his way across the field he found himself at the back of the house. It was clear by the overgrown weeds and general poor state of the house that no one had been there in decades. He made his way around the side of the house peering in the windows. It looked, to him, as if the occupants had just stood up and left, or perhaps died, with children too uncaring to clean the place up.

He looked to the right as he reached the front porch. If there was a tiger on this property he knew exactly where it would be. He began walking toward the old wooden barn to the north of the house. The wood had begun to decay and nearly all the red paint had curled and fallen away. Chase could feel his heart pounding as he came close to the door. All his life he had been obsessed with the Tiger, learning German just so he could read an original Tigerfibel his great grandfather had kept from World War 2. Holding his breath in anticipation, Chase swung the two large barn doors open. He was struck speechless by what he saw.

Before him stood a mountain of armor and guns, the pride of German engineering and terror of Allied tankers. The wide tracks, the box hull and round turret and topping it all off the fearsome 88 millimeter gun. Chase was completely in awe, it had all paid off.

“Wer ist da?” Chase heard a gruff voice coming from the tank. So the stories he had been told were true. This machine was a living machine. A pair of vibrant green eyes opened at the front corners of the turret as the Panzer spoke. A loud strained cranking sound came from the Tiger’s engine, followed by a cough and puff of smoke and then silence.

Fortunately he had brushed up on his German on the plane ride over, but the phrases he used with Anya wouldn’t do him much good in this situation. The two weeks in mostly German speaking territories helped to.

“Ich bin Chase, Chase Weber.” Chase replied, still looking over the tank’s magnificent features.

“You are an American?”

Chase nodded, “and you are a Tiger.”

“What year is it?” The tank said.

Chase was a little surprised. What he had expected to find is a WWII tank that had been cut off from the world since 1945, still bearing a hefty grudge against anything that spoke English. This was not the case however, he seemed to hold no animosity for the American in front of him. He seemed more disoriented and confused.

“Last I remember it was August 1986, when the radio stopped working.”

Chase looked to his side and saw a wooden table bearing a simplistic 1960’s era radio. “What’s your name?” Chase asked, doing as little to aggravate the Panzer as possible.

“My name is Hanz.”

“Hanz, I hate to tell you this but the date is the second of October… 2031.” Chase almost felt bad as he told Hanz this. Hanz looked about, trying to make sense of it all.

It took Chase over an hour to catch Hanz up on everything that had happened in the past 40-something years. Hanz could hardly believe any of it. The tearing down of the berlin wall and reunification of Germany, the fall of the Soviet Union, wars in the Middle East, Terrorist attacks on the United Stated, the plague nearly wiping out Africa, the decimation of North Korea, the list went on and on.

Chase pulled up a stool from one of the stables and listened while Hanz told his story of the war. He was intrigued by all the things the tank had done. He told him of North Africa, the Italian campaign, Normandy and eventually the defense of Germany itself. Chase couldn’t believe all the things Hanz had to tell. He even told him about Karl and all the battles they had been through together.

“I met Karl’s daughter, Liesel, a very nice lady. Actually she was the one who confirmed you were here.”

“How is Liesel?”

“I’m afraid old age has taken its toll on her memory, all she could remember was her big metal friend. Now tell me about what happened after the war.”

Hanz squinted thinking back to what had happened after the war, “Hanz buried everything tying himself to the war in a box and found his way into the real world again. In the last few months of the war he managed to fix up the farm and seemed to have put everything behind him. That all changed when the war actually ended. When he heard about the extermination camps it hurt him, it hurt him bad. He honestly believed that we were the good guys that we were fighting for a better Germany. I know one would be considered insane for thinking such a thing now but, that was truth back then, we were soldiers fighting for our country. When he heard of military commanders going on trial for war crimes he seemed to lose all faith in any justice in the world. Then when the Allied powers tore Germany apart he just couldn’t take any of it anymore. For two years he isolated himself from the entire world. It wasn’t until `47 or `48 that he started getting back out into the world. In 1950 Karl got married, had Liesel and lived on this farm until the day he died. They moved away and it was only Liesel who knew about me so I was forgotten with time. The years began to fly by and after a while I just lost track and stopped caring.”

“May I take a look at you Hanz?” Chase said as he began looking over Hanz. He couldn’t believe it, the tank showed no signs of age. No rust, no worn paint, the only thing that showed his age was the weeds that had grown between his treads.

“Hanz, I Have a proposal for you. I want you to come back to America and be a part of the Heritage Corps. This is strictly voluntary and you will be paid.”

“What is the Heritage Corps?”

“It is a collection of military vehicles from around the world, dating from World War One until modern times. The Tiger I tank is extremely rare, there is only one example of a fully operational Tiger in the world. That makes you one of the last survivors. Now it’s up to you to tell the world your story, you have to show them a true Tiger, a true German soldier.”

“Will they not hate me in America?”

“Hanz, you will intrigue and fascinate people. This will be your chance to set the record straight.”

“Chase, I will accept your offer. I tire of sitting on this farm. If I am to be placed on a stand for people to stare at, so be it. It will be better than sitting here alone.”

“Hanz that’s the brilliance of the Heritage Corps, it’s a living museum. The vehicles move about, interact in open environments so they show and teach. It is the first and largest of its kind.”

It took a few days for a team of Heritage Corps restoration experts to clean the gelled fuel from his engine but otherwise have him a clean bill of health. Finally able to start again and with a full tank of quality petrol, Hanz revved his engine. He had forgot how good it had felt to run again. Chase had dug up the metal container and found a treasure chest of WWII artifacts, including Karl’s uniforms, pistol and K98 sniper rifle along with an American made trench knife. Chase promised Hanz that this would be put on display in the museum.

Finally fixed and ready Hanz was able to move for the first time in near fifty years. It felt good to feel fresh earth under his tracks. He had almost forgot what it felt like to be under the sun, to feel the autumn breeze.

“What is that?” Hanz said turning his turret to see something he did not recognize sitting in the middle of the field.

“Hanz, that’s my Anya, a Russian MI-24 attack helicopter.”

Hanz seemed in disbelief, he had never seen anything like her before.

“A lot has changed, you’ll see many of new and different things.”

“She is alive, yes?”

He nodded, “Not only alive, she’s my lover, we’ve been together for over 10 years now.”

Hanz seemed lost in thought for a moment, looking off into the distance as if recalling a fond memory, “I remember I was with a human once, during the war. If I remember right her name was Heida von Schauss.”

Chase’s eyes widened as he heard the name. “So Hanz, you mean to tell me that you’ve been with Heida von Schauss. Maybe you didn’t hear about it but she became very famous after the war. Her great granddaughter is one of the biggest actresses in Hollywood right now, a gorgeous woman.” Chase paused rubbing his chin before forming a devious smile, “You two should meet.”

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Bonus:

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