I peer out over the valley with my binoculars, even without them, I can see the dust kicked up by the British tanks. We'll have to move quickly to cut this isolated thrust off. Lucky our tanks are faster than theirs.

The issue, will be surviving the fight once we catch them.

"Four Matilda IIs and a single Churchill, all advancing." I murmur
"Quite the formation" Yorik, beside me replies. I grunt in agreement. "It's impressive they can stay in formation like that." I don't reply. He continues "We can't penetrate them from the front with our AP."
"That is where tactics and skill will come in then" I reply, attempting to bolster his confidence.
"Right" He replies.

We rush back to Anglerfisch, our faithful steed, overlooking the valley. As Yorik and I clamber onto her steel hull, I call into the drivers hatch.
"Max, wake up, you lazy fuck!"
He grumbles awake, rifle cap askew, sleepy brown eyes look up at me. Samm gives me an apologetic look from the radioman's hatch.
"We're going to deploy, start the engine up, but make sure the sound of the engine doesn't echo."
He nods. Samm disappears back into his hatch and I hear him relaying my orders to the rest of the kampfgruppe. I scramble onto the turret, over the still open loaders hatch and clamber into my cupola, brushing the desert dirt off my knees and elbows as I sit. Yorik looks at me with barely concealed enthusiasm. I nod at him. To my left is Hahn, his face a contrary image of complete calm, only disturbed by the tank lurching backward into motion. He wipes the lens of his gunsight with a pristine cloth.

I can see the rest of my kampfgruppe vehicles: 'Schildkröte', our surviving 38t; 'Ente' and 'Nilpferd', Panzer IIIs both, and our infantry contingent mounted in their halftrack, the 'Kaninchen'. We begin to trundle down the valley, diesel engines roaring, tracks squealing and clunking.

I hum to attempt to drone out the noise.

Max begins to take us to the front of the group. We pass the Ente, football slogans written all over the tank, and the Schildkrote, with it's garish dunkelgelb. Fresh from some Czech factory, it had been given to the survivors of the Schildkrote I, not even painted field grey yet.

I try not to think about Madz. Poor bastard.

After passing the 38t, we pass the second Panzer III, the Nilpferd. God damn Austrians. An Austro-Hungarian flag sits tauntingly where their balkan cross should sit. Though I should be happy they're not flying their flag today on their 'portable flagpole'. An infantryman in the back of the halftrack waves at me as Samm pokes out his hatch for some air. He ducks the gun swinging around as Hahn tests the turret traverse.

"Idiot!" he shouts
"What?" Hahn emerges from his hatch and shouts across the turret.
"You almost took my head off!"
"Oh" Hahn replies calmly. I chuckle as a dip in the desert track pauses their argument as the tank lurches forward and back.
"Stand by to relay orders Samm"
"One moment." He ducks back into his hatch and transmits on his throat mic. "Transmitting to kampfgruppe."
I speak to all members across the radio. "Five enemy tanks are advancing alone. Anglerfisch will draw them into an ambush at the pass. Make sure you are all ready. Operation 'Sneaky Sneaks is a-go."

Mission names were never my strong point.

"So what are we doing Captain?" Hahn asks as we separate from the rest.
"We're trying to lure the British into an ambush, but I'm not sure if we can eliminate their tanks."
"Well if we fail, at least we have some cover to retreat to" Samm points out the rocky areas all around us.
"That's if we survive the desert conditions for long enough to get back to base." Hahn replies.
I'm sure I hear Samm swallow hard, even over the noise of the tank.
"Let's do our duty, as men of the Panzerkorps." I reply
"Yes Sir!" The crew calls in reply
"I'm just so happy to get a chance to take down those Brits myself!" Yorik cheers.
"You look it" I reply.

I wonder how long that enthusiasm will last the poor boy.

"Targets sighted." Hahn states.
"Aim for the lead tank, the Churchill." I reply. I hope we can throw it's track.
"Target in sight"
"Fire at will."
With a loud crack, the round flies out the short barrel, I watch it arc into the valley as I hear the clank of the shell casing eject from the breech. The shell itself smashes into the ground in a cloud of smoke. Bad fuse.
"Sorry," says Hahn.
"It's ok, we didn't need to take it out here. Driver, turn and retreat to the pass as per orders. Get us out of here Max."
"Yes sir." He replies.
The British open up with their 40mm cannons. Small rounds, but lethal. Rocks all around us are smashed apart by the rapid fire. The 57mm on the Churchill also opens up. Max drives us in evasive maneuvers as we quickly outpace the British tanks, who seem to have taken the bait. I watch the last Matilda begin to disappear behind a corner, as I look down it's cannon barrel, and it fires.