"Life is different out here. It's cold every night, and I never get more than a couple hours of sleep at a time. Between keeping watch and keeping mobile, there's no time for it. My driver has been ill for the past week, and we haven't been able to arrange for her to be sent back and replaced, so I've been taking care of her as well as pulling half her workload. Add that and a sniper taking out our spotter to my normal duties, and it's a miracle I've found the time to write this.

I want to say I wish I was there with you, but someone needs to fill this position and I am the best there is. It would be selfish to wish you were here with me. No, I don't wish this on anyone, least of all you.

I really do wish I were back home with you. There's no sense hiding it. I wish this was over. I wish so many things, but wishing is in vain. That said, I wish you the best. You're young and strong, with a full life ahead of you, and you deserve the best in everything. So don't follow me. Don't come to this awful war.

There is still so much I have to teach you, so I expect you to be prepared when I return home. Send your sister my love, and take care of each other in my absence. You know I love you both dearly."

"Commander! Artillery!"

"Take cover!"

"No, Commander! Look! Coming over the hill! Ours!"

Lifting her head, the Commander set the letter aside with the pen. She climbed up through the hatch, looking around quickly. Three friendly artillery vehicles were rolling up over a hill around two hundred meters to their right. A number of soldiers were walking alongside them.

She turned and hit her loader, who was also now the spotter, in the shoulder. "Asshat! Don't shout out like that! I thought we were under fire! You scared the shit out of me!"

Rubbing her shoulder, the loader pouted. "Sorry, Commander."

"Well…" Letting out a relieved sigh, the Commander ducked back into the tank. "Raise those Arties and see if there's any help we can offer."

Climbing back into the tank, the loader/spotter looked to the Commander. "I don't get it. We're too close to the front lines. Those Arties are too close. Did they lose track of their location, or…?"

The Commander turned to the operator. "Ask them what their orders are. They're at risk here."

The operator did as she was told, then came back with a dark look on her face. "There's no radio activity in the area at all."

"Okay, I don't like this. All tanks move in! We have to assume that's captured artillery! Keep trying to raise them and let me know the instant you get a response." She kicked the sickly driver in the shoulder. "Panzer vor!"

A column of thirty-four tanks turned and started for the artillery. Their engines roared and their treads tore the ground. The tank operators received their orders and passed it along to the rest of their crews. The loaders lifted the shells into the main cannons. The drivers pushed their armored vehicles forward relentlessly.

The artillery spotted them. It looked like they were surprised to encounter anyone else here. They were closer to the front lines than artillery would normally want to be. If they were indeed captured guns, then they were much too close to the column of tanks. The Leopard 2 tanks continued to close the distance, kicking up dust behind them. They had to get closer, so the artillery would have no effect.

The operator raised her hand, grabbing her Commander's pant leg. "They're responding! Allied forces!"

The Commander shouted over the sound of the engine. "All tanks stand down!"

The message went out, and was almost soon enough to prevent anyone from opening fire. One Leopard fired its main cannon, but the shot went astray and disappeared into the treeline several hundred feet behind the artillery. The field was silent as the echoing of the lone shot died down.

The Commander climbed out of her tank, much to the relief of the men standing alongside the artillery. She saluted them. Everyone let out their breath, glad that they would be granted a further respite from combat. Within moments, the air was still.

A high-pitched whistling cut through the air, giving them all less than a second's warning before the first shell hit. The Leopard that had fired was blown apart in the explosion, pieces of its tracks and twisted shrapnel that had been armor plating flew in all directions. The thunderous boom of the artillery strike masked the sound of more incoming shells that began to pepper the Leopards. The friendly artillery was obliterated, and it would have been a miracle if any of the soldiers were still in one piece.

Practically falling back into her tank, the Commander kicked her driver again. "Get us out of here! I don't care where! We're stuck in a death trap here! Go! Go! Go!"

Out of the smoke and dust, the surviving twenty-one tanks broke for the trees. There was no way to know where the enemy was. It was artillery, real enemy artillery, so it could be as far as forty kilometers away. She had to get back up and get a good look around.

The loader grabbed her. "Commander! Your neck!"

Reaching up and brushing her hand against her neck, the Commander drew her hand back to see red. A piece of shrapnel had caught her. She grabbed a rag and pressed it against the wound, then climbed back up again. She looked behind them to see the artillery strike again. The Leopards had mostly left the area being targeted, but shells still struck two at the back. One of the tanks broke apart and exploded. The other swerved and almost rolled over, but managed miraculously to continue going despite the smoke now coming from its engine. It must not have been hit directly.

Machine gun fire ripped through the trees as they dashed into the cover of the forest. Someone else was out there now, closer. She peered through the trees, looking for any sign of their new attackers. The colors and profiles of the tanks she saw in the distance were good news, M1's and Type 10's. Now if only she could get them to stop firing.

Ducking back in, she pressed the toe of her boot into the operator's side. "Machine gun fire from the South. Allied tanks. Tell them who they're shooting at and find out who they are."

While the operator was complying, the Commander stuck her head up again. The machine gun fire stopped moments later, just as the artillery hit again behind them. She noted that less shells struck this time, which probably meant the rest were adjusting their aim. They may have picked up the machine gun fire. She hoped they were too far away to pick that up, but she still didn't know where they were. She hadn't heard them firing, which meant they were a considerable distance at least, which meant going after them was not likely something they could do themselves.

The operator called up from within the tank. "It's Commanders Shimada's battalion. They say they've still got most of their tanks." She paused, listening to the messages she was receiving. "Commander Chouno was with them, but a few tanks got separated including hers, so Shimada has taken command of Chouno's battalion for the time being. There's more than eighty of them in all."

"That explains the Type 10's. Tell them we're joining up with twenty tanks. Artillery is after us as well, so we're all at risk. We need to keep moving and try to get clear. Hopefully we can find a place to stay hidden until allied forces take out the enemy artillery."

The operator relayed her message, then told her their response. "They're coming to us. We're well within enemy artillery's range and they're rallying to go after it."

The artillery started falling in the trees. She heard the tops of the trees shake and splinter overhead just before the first shell hit ahead of them. She closed the hatch to keep out the shower of dirt. "It's coming from the Northeast. That's behind us. We shouldn't be behind enemy lines right now. Did the lines move without us knowing?" More shells dropped around them. She kicked the driver. "Let's go! We need to keep moving! Bring us around! We're heading for that artillery!"

Climbing up out of the hatch, she looked over to the allied tanks. An M1 Abrams was at the head of the battalion, crashing through the underbrush. They deftly moved around the trees, keeping from hitting them. Any enemy that saw the trees shaking would know their position. The Abrams pulled up alongside the lead Leopard 2 and its Commander appeared from its own top hatch.

Chiyo Shimada saluted quickly, a gesture which the Commander returned. "You look pretty beat up. That's the same artillery that chased us into the forest. We haven't been able to raise any other allies in a week and a half, so we have no idea if there's already a plan to take them out. We have to do it ourselves if we don't want to be ground into dust."

The Commander nodded. "We'll call it a joint operation. And keep your eyes open. If they've managed to flank us, the reason we've been unable to raise anyone might be that they took the border and the lines have moved." She called down to the operator. "Tell all tanks to turn North-Northwest!"

Shimada leaned out of her tank further. "Good call. Do we divide our forces or all get caught in a shooting gallery together?"

"Divide." She pointed over to the East. "I need you to come at the from the opposite direction. It may divide us, but it'll divide their focus as well."

"Fair enough. I'll let you take thirty of the Type 10's with you." Shimada closed her hatch behind her, and the Abrams battalion began to move off, taking twenty Type 10's with them.

Artillery struck again, mostly missing, but an unlucky Abrams further off took a hit and exploded. The Commander waited to see if any further damage would be sustained, but it seemed like they were in the clear for the time being. After that, as they moved away, the enemy artillery only hit far behind them. Ten minutes in, the artillery stopped firing. She couldn't hear the strikes anymore. She ducked back into the tank.

"Full stop!"

Standing up out of the tank the moment it came to a stop, all the tanks behind it stopping as well, she looked around. They weren't open to the sky, so the artillery wasn't adjusting its aim for them. They couldn't. There was no way for the enemy to know where they were.

"Continue forward slowly. Don't give away our position in any way."

They crept ahead, the treads crunching the dirt pound by pound. Every inch of the way, every pebble and fern, was another bit of her nerves fraying. The tension was thick, the suspense of the moment crushing her. All her senses were on high alert, waiting for the first indication that the artillery had readjusted their aim. It was too good to be true that they'd given up.

The Commander watched the sky carefully for several minutes before turning back to the ground ahead of them. It was an instant too late. She saw the old tripwire. She never saw what it was hooked up too. There was no time. She dropped into the tank. If she'd had more time, she would have then stopped the tank, but as it was she only had the time to take cover.

The explosion rocked the tank. It wasn't that much of a concern by itself. The explosive wasn't very big, and was somewhere off to the left. There was probably not any real damage at all to the outside of the tank. That wasn't the problem. It was enough for the artillery to find them. She opened the hatch and called down into the tank as she climbed up.

"Full speed! Get us out of here!" The high-pitched whistle of incoming shells reached her ear. She looked up to she the next strike coming. It was too late. "Take cover!"

The lead Leopard two was hit, the artillery shell crushing its way through the tank Commander and causing the entire vehicle to erupt into flames. The operator and driver were obliterated by the shock of the explosion. The loader managed to climb out after the fact, falling to the ground as more artillery shells landed around her, tearing the rest of the tanks apart. She got up and staggered a few meters before falling to her knees. She reached out her arm to stop herself from falling, only to realize in her dazed state that the arm wasn't there anymore.

The Leopard 2 burned. The letter burned with it.