Greetings to all who have taken the time to read my fic! Please note, this takes place around 1941-1942, when the British were fighting both the Italians and German forces in Africa. The Americans have not yet entered the war as well. At least not around Europe.

Their is a deal bit of cussing, but nothing worse than what you'll see on t.v, if not less. But just for safe measure it'll be rated T, planning not to go far enough to send this into the brink of a M rating. Well, without further ado, may the story begin.


URGE ON SWEET SUNRISE

I felt it. The sudden shift of explosions and dangerously loud gunshots. This battle, this war, was drawing closer to us. I could just feel it. I stood at a still, looking, gazing over the flat desert that spread among, in all direction till peaks begin or the array of smoke and mirages engulfed what was left.
It was hot.
Damn was it hot.
Rubbing my wrinkled and chaffed skin i began to think. Today, would be a great day to die.
Nefarious popped out from within the hollow opening that led inside the tank, coughing and breathing heavily as he began to speak to me, "Commander. We have radio contact from Montgomery himself. Jerrie's are coming our way. It seems that they managed to cut off from the current lines and dawned back so they can arrive at this position... um, captain, sir?"
I didn't seem to be interested in what he had to say. I didn't need HQ to tell me the fight was coming to us. It was in my gut. My bowels were telling me that black plague was approaching, and fast. The boys better be ready, cause those Germans aren't going to just let us blow them to bits. That i was sure of.
I let the still silence last a little longer before i decided, for the sake of Nefarious, to speak. "Good. Tell Cassius in there to load the two-pounder, you get on that machine gun and prepare yourself," I stopped to take a breath, "I see them."

It was true. The vast sand spur whirled in a fashion much seen in the months waning out in the desert. It spoke in clear tongue that, that was no ordinary typhoon of dust. No, it was being kicked around by heavy tanks and Panzers. They called it the Panzerarmee. A deadly division of cunningly designed vehicles, heavy transporters and a barrage of AA guns that could punch a clean hole in anything living or non. It's just shocking how they turned something from an artilliry cannon into a despised piece of a equipment, even more so than the man leading this vast group. Yes, Rommel. General supremest and a tactical genius to boot. One that could curve even the toughest of situations to his favor. Or so he has been doing as of late. But unlike the rest of the conflicts I've been in, in this God forsaken desert, this one just felt, how should i say, right. As if we had a fighting chance. I just hoped my instincts on the matter are correct. Today, it would be different we'd be the one pushing then back for once.
Whilst the calm that seemed to pass between us and them, i ounce my way up the canvas that was the A9's side and climbed into the hatchway. They were drawing nearer to us, to us and the plethora of other lads protecting this rock in the sand. Our only chance of holding the line of El Alamein, the path stopping German and Italian forces alike from reaching the heart of Egypt. Those bloody people better be thanking us. If not for us being here, Genocide of a large scale probably would have been at hand. Or they'd have all their oil stripped from them like a blimey crock tearing an innocent Gazelle to pieces.
By the time i stood at watch, half up in the humid breeze filled with smog, i saw the shimmers and glim of the approaching machines, counting them before they reared their ugly heads from within the dust.
It was now a matter of time.

"Cassius, everything up and running down there!?" I shouted, trying to overpass the sudden sound of the engines coming to life. "Yes sir, everyone's ready!" He yelped back, the echo's barely ringing to me."Alright then. Lets show these Jerrie's what were capable of." Shoving my way into the dingy space that was our home, i closed the lid and locked it tight. Out of the fire and straight into the frying pan, left to simmer and melt away, slowly and with keen torture.
"Keep her steady. Let them come closer. Fernando, distance?" I quickly wiped sweat, sweat already pouring over my face from just being inside for mere seconds. If i learned anything, Tanks do not make good shade. With tattered voice Fernando replied, "Hundred; maybe hundred and twenty yards at the most." I could barely make out his voice over the humming of the engines and the constant chatter from the radio.
"Dang it private, turn that damned thing down! For goodness sakes, can't even hear me'self think!" Nefarious quickly obliged and turned the nob till it became nothing more than a faint whisper. Chances are I'd regret that later, but it would become nothing more than an annoyance than a helping hand in the long run. Besides, if the retreat was to be ordered, it would be bloody obvious, seeing as if the other boys would be hightailing it out of here. At least not to forget, it's better not to think of such thoughts at a time like this. Battle never does give you that sparing second to piddle with what could happen.

If to ring the door bell, a crackle and boom of cannon fodder and shots began to pour across from the Germans line as they continued a straight forward march eastward, keeping a minimum distant from us, but such to keep in a modern range. We were sitting ducks, they were the hunters stalking us.
"Turn twenty degrees! Aim for where they will go, not at them! Ready, target, fire!"
With nonreligious prayers sent, the shackle and bump of the thwomp feeling we learned to grow and respect pushed out. We watched, at least those that could see, a sudden white trail hit and demolish in a a puff of dark sand, a shell launched by us, to them. But it became a quick apparel that we missed. By a small margin to boot. If their was anything that could piss me off more, it would be missing by mere inches. Inches that could mean life or death.
"Load another shell, quickly!" We were the first to fire on our side, but not for long. In a hail storm of bombardments from artillery placed behind us and secondary reply from the rest of the A9's, more gusts of decree and dust blossomed and boomed all around the narrow run of the enemy forces.
A few wreckages appearing in clear sight showing monstrous beasts taken down in blows. That was something that did the opposite of making me testy.
Nice homely piles of wrecked German armor. Just how i like it.


It didn't take long for the real fight to begin. Echo's of far away bouts sinking its way miles in every direction. I could see why they'd think we were so vulnerable. Just a rag tag team of Desert Rats out away from the main battalion, sitting between them and the port city Cairo. Too bad i just wasn't in a giving mood today.

Belches of smoke; rising from dispersed vehicles continued to feed the flames that just added to the hell we were in. It stuck with me. The ringing sound, pitched and high up, taunting me with every burst of the cannon. Atkins, get a hold of yourself. Can't let the team down. Not now. Just got to keep fighting. Show those jerks on the other end who you are.
More spatters of clothed dirt sprinkled and painted our little heat conductor as a narrowly missing shell hit the ground hard in front of us. Probably gave shivers to everyone here. But not me. I'm the man who's in charge. No time for fear. No time to show weakness.
"Forty up, aim for the under belly- fire!" I yelled another screech and churn of metal pulsed the tank slightly backwards, creating another blurry trail of mis created death. It smashed hard into it's target, causing eruption of a mass scale within. Poor Jerrie's never saw it coming.

The intense clash began to dwindle everyone's numbers. But it was far from over. With every tank or man fallen in battle, another quickly stepped up and took his place. The Jerrie's cautious and all, continued to push hard along our deployment line, As well as to mask the dawning of light, they continued to slowly crank up there movement to create twirls of sand to rise and spread in the air. There own second layer of armor, per say? Guess Rommel's been teaching his men well. That or all Germans are born to drive tanks.
What didn't seem to fit in the picture was the ever persistent Italians. Their own numbers meshing in with the Nazi regime, not worth much due to there outdated technology on the field and the little numbers they had. Course, if not for Mussolini and his vow to bring back this long to pass Roman Empire, they wouldn't have been here, causing havoc, riding in with the high noon. Never would have brought the Germans with him too. Or so i would guess.
A second shell whizzed by us and smash into the underbrush of a nearby rock. No Atkins, this is not the time to dwell on political fanfare.

Something caught my eye at that moment. Something that just didn't seem right. They finally stopped.
"Well about time! Now we can send them to an early grave with generous ease, aye team?"I croaked, smiling all the while, cheering what could be a well too soon cheer. Yes, well too soon. A sudden shift in the balance became clear, through the settling of the storm clouds, it became apparent what they were doing from the start. Masking the readiness of those unholy Anti Tank guns.
"For the love of- Nefarious change in plans aim at those eighty-eight's before they punch a hole in us bigger than Fernando's head!" Fernando took lightly at the comment, probably swayed by the constant fear of war. That or he was just too afraid of me. Everyone on my team was. At least a respectable fear that one can only receive from uncanny discipline and self-respect. Something i believe is trait of blood.

Nefarious quickly got to work, back paddling to the nearest Eighty-eight and lining what he thinks is a direct hit. But if it be luck or just planned out, those turrets were partially hiding behind both Panzer and dune's alike. From this distant we had little chance of hitting them, they had the barrel against our skulls.
I turned the radio up a tad to get a gesture of what was going on amongst the others. As usual, noises I've grown sadly attached too, were the deafening screams and terrible pleas of help across multiple channels all lining from hundreds of tanks. Talk about one grotesque noise.
Another rock of the machine another piece of ammunition gone in a explosion of pure fire and shrapnel.

"Damn it, can't we hit anything but desert!? Lets put the pain into them!" I yelled, seeing as we just hit the cover the Eighty-eight had.
It didn't take long for them to reply to our bet with their own fold of cards. The Eighty-eight's. In a bombardment, they catheterized our entire area, plugging anything that could shoot back and then some. All i could hear was the sudden rush of smoke and explosions. Odd for the such tiny space i had available to peer out of; i could suddenly see the sun drifting outwards for miles on miles. Just like when the Jerrie's first arrived an hour earlier. When i was just resting on the hot surface of our tank.

From what i faintly saw, my eyes wandering across a sparse wasteland, our own men, sprawled and burned alive in heaps, mounds and mounds of heaps, the metal protecting them blown open and turned into mince meat. Some privates still alive, crawling for shelter, hoping to make it, but were thoughts soon shattered by the roar of a unleashed machine gun. Mercy? Not in war. You show mercy you'll be the one pleading for it not long after.
I could smell it, eye's beginning to blur, the smell of burnt flesh and oil. Atkins you moron, what is wrong with you! Get back in the game. Your team needs you!
I just couldn't move. All i could ask was one thing.

Did we get hit?

No. No feeling whatsoever. Dead, demolished, doomed so to say. The daggering taste of sand filling my lungs and mouth. So dry. So tired... could just go to sleep right here. My eyes roll sideways, looking skywards, stopping midpoint. A corpse. Tangled across me. Charred as if grilled and smoldering with fumes and smoke. I could recognize the remains of a face. Nefarious. My worse fears. His eyes wide with terror: years of tales and drunken bar fights seeping out as if remembering and seeing them once again. Not my memories no, but to me, a man with no such thing as a past, had to live through some memories. Even if it was just that... borrowed memories.
Tears began to build up in my eyes. Never did i think it would come to this. Legends die hard as they say. Man, i didn't even get to gloat about this to my future grandsons.

No! Snap out of it. You're still alive you old coot. Get up! Get up!
But... it felt so good to just be numb. Never have i realized how much of a burden I've been carrying all these months. Better to just keep forgetting those memories. That i wish i could do... but they began to creep up on me... slowly, irking and tugging at my mind.

"Welcome to the Cauldron men. The crappiest place you'll ever see."

Forget them Atkins... they'll just hurt you even more...

"I just can't wait to return home captain. To see the faces of my children; to hold my wife once more. Atkins, I mean sir, do you have kids of your own?"

Drown them out, old man... just go to sleep... you deserve some rest...

"We all had dreams. But i quickly abandoned mine when the world kicked me in the ass. I figured thats why all of us are here. Because we've lost that dream. To fight for a land that couldn't give a shit if we're here or not. Eh, it's got a poetic justice if you ask me. Men die for a country not worth dying for. Well look at that, might have just found my calling after all. I can see it now... lil' ol' farmer boy from Scotland tells truth about world. Maybe they'll turn my life into some black and white movie. Who knows."

I slowly could feel the tingle in my body. The one i heard about from those that experienced near death situations. No noise, no feeling, just a plain vortex of stale, invisible numbness that began to rob me of my senses. Slipping away to that very same spot i hoped never to see here. The graveyard of my mind.
The shell shock aftermath.

"If you died sir, do you think you'll go to heaven?"

"Heaven? Boy, with the things I've seen, done and practically blown to pieces, I'd think it'll be in God's best intentions to send this man far away from it as possible."

"So- hell sir?"

"How much of a hell can hell itself be? It'll just be like living. No 'hell' can be as gruesome as the one I've walked for decades. None."


That's it for now. If i don't get flamed to death, then i shall continue among the week or a few days. Reviews, wether they be with my critical intrest on how to improve my story or just plain good things said, are highly welcome. Like i always say, can't change what you don't know.