Tank Academy
Birch Gun woke up. His gun shield was warm and bright from the sun beating down on it. He crawled out of his tank bed and let his gun shield twirl around to the window. He stared out of it. It was a beautiful day. His gun poked the window and as he did this, a little tracked thing popped out onto the road. It was small and blue, with a long gun striking out of it. His SPG gun depression stopped him from letting his gun fall down to where the tank would be if it was right by him. The vehicle passed.
He turned his hull and 'turret' around and he saw a Crusader SP pop out of nowhere at his open door. He pointed his gun towards the artillery, greeting it.
"Hi Mum!" Birch Gun was excited to see his mother on this bright and wonderful day.
"Son… Do you know what today is?" replied the Crusader SP, with her gun pointed towards the ceiling.
"No… Wait, is it the weekend? 5x experience event?" Birch Gun replied in excitement. "Half price on tier five artillery? Some extra pudding and tea?" Birch Gun was swinging his turret around in excitement. Slowly.
"No… it's your first school day. Don't you remember?
"What?" Birch Gun was aghast.
"Don't you remember? I told you a few months ago. Your winrate was going down and so we decided to send you to an academy."
"Oh… yeah…" Birch Gun pointed his gun low down as far as his gun depression let him. His gun went pretty far. Because Birch Gun was depressed.
"…Which academy?"
"Oh, the Self Propelled Gun Academy down in Ruskie. You know, where all of the KV-1S gangsters come from." Crusader SP replied.
"Isn't that place really rough?" Birch Gun was scared.
Crusader SP turned her gun left and right. "No no dear. Don't worry, that's only a small part of Ruskie. It's a big place, you know. The rough part is where 'Derp Guns R Us' is. All of the KV-1Ss want a 122mm."
"Oh." Birch Gun's gun rose a bit to face his mum. "Okay."
"You're going to have to do a test to get in the academy. Show them that your recent WN8 is real. It's just high enough to get in there."
Birch Gun had all of his supplies ready for the SPG test. He left the house with his bag full of ammo and his iPad with his stat checking tool on it. He wanted to compare his winrate to other tanks in the neighbourhood.
His turret swung around to look for the weird little blue thing that he saw earlier. He did not know that the little machine went to Tank Academy. He did not even know of Tank Academy. He drove on down the road, admiring the view of trees, the smell of gasoline, and the taste of smoke.
Birch Gun eventually ended up in Ruskie. He instantly spotted a KV-1S with his turret pointed down to another tank. He spotted the tank with his open topped view range. The tank was small and brown. He could just make out a little white star on it. The KV-1S rammed him and the tiny tank flipped over. He could tell what it was: a T1 Cunningham. Clearly he had wandered into the gangsters' territory and had paid for it.
Birch Gun stayed away from them, and he eventually found the Self Propelled Gun Academy. He stared it its posture; it was a gigantic, white building with many spires and towers. He wondered where the actual teaching took place. He drove up the stairs with a disappointing power-to-weight ratio of 9.05. Nobody criticized him, however. He was a SPG; an 'arty'.
He rammed the tall white doors open and was met with a reception room. A T57 artillery was working at the counter. Birch Gun slowly drove in and wiped his tracks on the doormat. The T57 greeted him heartily.
"Uh… Hi…" murmured Birch Gun. He wasn't exactly confident here.
"You are Birch Gun?" the T57 asked.
"Yes…"
"Great." The T57 drove over the counter and pointed its gun towards a map. Birch Gun saw its beautiful coat of green and brown camo drenched over it. Birch Gun stared at it in admiration when the T57 was explaining the directions. Birch Gun wanted his own camo.
"Did you get that?" the T57 asked.
"Uh… yeah…" replied Birch Gun in a slight trance. "I…um… Go up the corridor and then up the left corridor and down the right and then I climb the stairs and up the spire and then down the next spire along the path and then I slide down to the tank testing room."
T57 drove back in amazement. "How… how did you do that? How did you not pause for breath?"
Birch Gun laughed. "I'm an artillery. We don't breathe when we're firing."
"I've never been in a battle… I think I was free exped." replied T57, sad.
"You'll get your chance." Birch Gun felt amazing. This was totally out of character: him being helpful. But he was an artillery. All they do is scumbag and sometimes teamkill. And drown themselves.
Birch Gun left to go to the testing room, shutting the doors. He could hear T57 trying to do what he did, speaking almost a paragraph without stopping to let air through its gun.
Birch Gun was filled with glee. As he drove down to the testing room, he thought about the T57. Maybe they could be friends…
The happy thoughts were slaughtered when Birch Gun saw the door for testing. It was plated with steel and was full of holes and scratches.
Birch Gun gulped. This would be the fate to his life. He remembered he loved to go shotgun, killing every light tank. It didn't work for the team, however. It didn't work for his winrate either. Maybe the old and wise artillery would like his special style of shotgunning. Maybe they will.