All the Kings Horses

Chapter 1: Realization

July 12, 1943

Prokhorovka, USSR

The metallic clang of a spent 88mm shell hitting the base of the turret was loud and obnoxious, it however was nothing compared to the ungodly sound that would follow in a few short seconds. Two things preceded the end of sanity, the slight whine of hydraulics followed by the command to fire from our commander. I looked back at just the right moment to watch the gunner pull the trigger. That one simple action, preformed with such finality was the last step in a perfectly coordinated dance that the gunner and the loader had learned. My world rumbled and the steel chariot in which I was encased belched fire. I quickly spun back around looking through the small view port. I was met with a moment of vast expanse followed by a grand explosion as something farther than my eyes could see met with the deadly force of our beast.

"Enemy destroyed. Adjust gun ten degrees right and target the T-34 at fifteen hundred metres." Our commander was always a stoic man, but that was cold even for him. He sounded as though what he had just accomplished was nothing more than ordering a coffee when in reality he had most likely sent five men to their graves. There was that clang again as the casing hit the deck. This had been the routine for two hours. Shoot, reload, adjust, over and over much like the drum beat of the war itself. I looked to my right to see the radioman/hull gunner let out an excited shout as the next shell was loaded into the breach. I stared out once again at the plume of black smoke rising in the distance, knowing full well that in a moment it would be joined by another. To my dismay... I was right.

The final target in our sector was another T-34 that had actually managed to close in to about two hundred metres. Unlike his two counterparts that stayed at range and stable this one was mobile running laterally around trying to get to our backs. At this point I knew that I would be instrumental to our survival. As the T-34 pulled to our rank flank to pass us, I slammed the tank into reverse and pulled hard on the left track break which swung the entire front, including the giant 88mm gun to the right. Once the gun was lined up, I watched as the muzzle flashed, spewing a metal promise of death at our speedy foe.

"Target missed. Reload AP and adjust to lead target, driver pull us back and keep that little wicht in front of us."

Following orders I moved us back about a hundred metres keeping the target in front. This was actually a little difficult to do as the uneven terrain constantly obscured my field of view. "AP loaded sir, ready to fire." our loader called out just as the T-34 vanished behind a low ridge. With no target except a large dust cloud all we could do was wait. It was at this very moment that something extraordinary happened, something that would forever solidify in my mind how truly insane the Russians were. As we were about to risk going over the ridge to engage the tank again, it flew over the ridge line fast enough to actually fly through the air and land beside us. As it hit the ground it's right track shattered forcing the entire machine to slide directly behind us.

I only had a moment to look into the loaders eyes as he started to swear, the sound cut off by a deafening racket far worse then our gun ever created. As the T-34 slid in behind us it was in the perfect position to hit the back of our turret, a position that their commander most certainly took advantage of. At this range and presented with our thinnest armour it had no trouble in blasting a hole right into our ammo storage. I was not aware of how close we all came to being an inferno until after the battle though as my immediate concern rested with the mangled corpse of what used to be our loader falling out of the turret into the front cabin, right next to me.

The next few seconds were nothing but a ringing and blurry ordeal, shapes I could see but could not comprehend. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it was shell shock but that did little to actually prepare me for the event. In my dazed state I reached down and tried to shake the loader awake, but he wouldn't. Completely unable to comprehend why he wouldn't wake up I looked over to the hull gunner for aid only to see him slumped against his MG-34, looking at me with dull eyes, panicked I looked back into the turret for either the gunner or the commander to help me. Something was wrong though, why was there sunlight in the tank? Who opened a hatch in combat? Suddenly, realization hit harder then that shell ever could have. There wasn't a hatch open the whole turret was gone, blown off when the ammo rack was hit. And everyone wasn't unconscious or asleep they were all dead. Finishing the train of thought I sat still, surrounded by death and destruction. Finally I did the only this I could, I screamed and I screamed until eventually everything went dark for me too.

Unfortunately for me death did not come so easily. As I finally regained consciousness images from earlier swan in my head, forcing me in agonizing detail to relive everything. I shook my head to clear them out and made to get up. Suddenly I realized I was in a bed. I didn't have much time to dwell on it as a man in a lab coat approached me.

"Good to see you finally up, I was worried you were going to die of nightmares. Don't worry now though, you are in a field hospital just outside of Minsk. Before you ask you were found in the wreck of a Tiger by a group of Grenadiers from SS Leibstandarte thirty hours ago and you were returned here for recuperation and reassignment.

That last part of the sentence rang alarm bells inside my head and I was quick to vocalize this. "No, absolutely not. I am not going back out there. Not after what just happened. I lost everyone in that demon of a machine an there is no way on gods green earth that I will ever set foot in one again."

The doctor, whom I just realized I had not even asked his name sighed and gave me a glare that seemed to burrow into my very mind. It was a rather unsettling experience to say the least. "Do you think that you are the only man to suffer the loss of friends to this war. That's rather selfish of you to think. Look around you at all these beds, full of wounded and sick. I hope you realize many won't even live to see the sunrise tomorrow and here you are moping that you have a clean bill of health, that you actually get to walk out of here or didn't leave parts of yourself back in that tank.

Honestly how many people do you think are going to die if the Russians are allowed to reach the Fatherland, hmm? We have to stop them here before the Western Allies invade Europe, if we don't then all could be lost. So in an effort to stem the tide that washes around us one good driver does actually make a difference in the grand scheme of things. You have experience and wisdom and any new crew would be damn lucky to have you leading them to victory, and if I can't sway you to change your mind it may help to mention that you really have no choice in the matter anyway since almost everyone who can has been conscripted to fight.

I could do nothing but stand there as he handed me a piece of paper, utterly dumbfounded by the passion in which he had essentially guilt tripped me into changing my mind. I took the paper and quickly skimmed the contents. It was my new orders, I was to meet a new tank crew that was missing a driver at the train station a few blocks away. Backing away slightly I offered the doctor a quick salute and began walking out.

"Viel Glück, Gefreiter Markus Scheller."

End of Chapter 1

I know it's short but don't worry the next chapters will be much longer.