Chapter II
"Strategy is a system of expedients; it is more than a mere scholarly discipline." -Helmut Von Moltke The Elder
The head if the board hesitated as the other members sat down, the room filled with tension and silence.
"I'm sorry…what, what did you say?" The blond women asked, obliviously confused.
"I would like to suggest Tankery." Edward said slowly the board members looked at each other and the head of the board sighed.
"Ummm, sorry to be the first to tell you...it's a female only sport." Edward smiled and shook his head.
"Sorry sir, it's not, no where is it stated that the participants must be female." Edward stepped forward a bit and reached into his bag. "Here, read it for yourself." Edward placed a copy of the rules and regulations for high school teams on the table and slid it forward. The head of the board flipped it up and went to the participants section.
"Must be fifteen or above...taller than four feet...able bodied...I-I...he's right, no where in here, how is that possible, males have never played before." Edward nodded and raised a finger.
"I mean yes and no, the sport is only marketed towards girls, it's the same reason girls don't really play football, so no male team has ever been fielded. We are forgetting of course, that tank crews during both world wars were male. My Grandfather was a gunner in a firefly for the Household Division." The board members struggled for words.
"Well, Tankery isn't that popular with high schoolers in Europe, so, how could we even compete. Not to mention that our ME budget won't be able to purchase tanks." Edward nodded, if he hadn't been prepared, he would have no idea to say, but he had memorized everything he could.
"Our school is an international school, we have students from all over the globe, that's how he can compete in the South American chess tournament. We can legally register for the tournament in Japan, Tankery is very big over there. Also, we make port Bremerhaven in three days, a lot of the old Tankery teams stored their tanks in the caves in the surrounding areas. If we are lucky, some may have been left behind and now are just waiting to be found." The board has grasping for any counter argument. The blond women spoke up again
"We can't just...no, we can just take them...but how, the budget can buy ammunition and repairs. He is right…" Edward smiled and nodded. "And he is the only student who had a suggestion. Does that mean our fourth mandatory elective is Tankery?" It took a moment for anyone it respond until the head of the board cleared his throat.
"I guess that is a yes...even if it makes this school a laughing stock." Edward sighed.
"Think of it this way, any boys who want to take Tankery will switch schools to come here. IBALT, the Internal Boys Academy for Troubled Learners. They couldn't even spell the acronym right, that's how worthless this school is. If we get a reputation...we could probably rename the school." Now the board looked interested. Edward knew that the head, Mr. Demo, hadn't been able to land a job at any other school, so he took over as head board member when the previous quit last year.
"Alright….sorry what's your name son?"
"Edward Lewis sir" Edward said and smiled.
"Looks like we will be the first school to offer Tankery to boys…" Edward nodded.
"Thank you"
Edward ducked under a dodge ball and scrambled behind one of the large mats set up in the gym. He heard two more smack into the mat before he stood up and took a blind throw. The ball hit nothing but the back wall and another ball smacked Edward directly in his chest. Mike cheered from across the room before he was cut off by a whistle.
"Alright class, I have your ME sign up sheets. Please come and grab one off the stage and fill them out. When you're done you may set them on my desk." The gym teacher grumbled and walked off into his office. Mike ran over to Edward.
"Did you see that shot, it was so good!" Edward nodded.
"See it? Man I felt it." He felt a hand of his shoulder and turned around.
"Good try Edward." Walter Weber said, his german accent almost making him impossible to understand. Walter and Edward had met each other about a week and a half ago and almost immediately became friends. Walter was just a bit taller than Edward, six foot, and thick black hair. He had a long slim face and was built like a twig. Unlike many of the other students, his parents lived aboard the ship. Both Edward and Walter had a lot in common, they both spoke german, obviously Walter could, but Edward had learned it by himself. Walter also had an interest in Tankery, which really made them friends. Something even more strange was the Walter's Grandfather also was in the crew of tank during the second world war. He had been a driver for a Tiger I in the 12. SS Panzer Division.
"Thanks Walter, I didn't see you do much better." Walter rolled his eyes.
"That was because I tripped." Edward could hear hushed whispers from the stage as students began to fill out their forms. The group of three waked over and grabbed their pieces of paper. Mike did a casual read then his eyes widened. He pulled the paper closer to his face.
"Guys!?" Mike shoved the paper in their face, almost having to stand for his tippy toes. "Look what it says!" Walter smiled and laughed.
"That's pretty cool!" Mike was pacing back and forth.
"But who would even go suggest that, I mean...IT WAS YOU!" Mike whirled around and pointed at Edward.
"Fine you caught me!" Edward laughed and leaned in the stage. He wrote his name on and marked an x next to Tankery and smiled. "So...what are you guys signing up for?"
"Well might as well." Walter marked Tankery as well and Mike looked back and forth at them.
"But...what...why...I...fine." Mike grumbled and marked Tankery. "Edward, you are such a loser." Edward rolled his eyes.
"Why don't you grab a stool and say that to my face." Walter burst out laughing, almost crying.
"That….that was pretty good!" He gasped and Edward chuckled.
"Hey...I'm not that short!" Mike huffed. Mike handed Edward the paper. "Go hand that in for me." Walter handed his over and Edward sighed.
"Yeah fine" Edward walked over to the gym teacher's office and set them in his basket. The teacher grumbled, not really noticing that a student was in the room.
"Tankery, what kind of girly bullshit is this."Edward raised and eyebrow and slowly backed out. He walked back over to the group where Mike was ranting about how stupid it was that they sighed up.
"I mean, we will be the only ones in it!" Edward frowned and climbed up on the stage.
"I guess we have our first meeting tomorrow, but we don't even have an instructor." Edward mumbled, realizing the slight oversight.
"I could ask my Opa to come in, I'm sure he needs something to do." Edward nodded.
"Yeah, I mean, he will at least have some experience."
Edward walked out to behind the school where the first lesson was being held. He saw a group of boys milling about. He counted eighteen, himself being nineteen. He walked over to the table and leaned on it. The group kept talking until two men walked over. One was the head of the school board, and the other was an old man, who appeared to be in his eighties.
He walked slow with and old oak walking stick, the stick didn't appear to have any actual use, but it definitely made him look distinguished. He was dressed in an old panzer crew uniform, the jacket was leibermuster, and the pants were an olive drab. He wore visored field cap, the skull and crossbones on the front, and his boot had been freshly polished. The symbol of the SS was sewn on the jacket's collar. Edward couldn't make out the rank, being not familiar with the German rank system. Mr. Demo cleared his throat.
"Alright boys, line up, this is Mr. Weber, He will…" Mr. Weber grumbled something. "Sorry, did you wanna say something?"
"Hauptsturmführer Weber…"The old man grumbled and Mr. Demo laughed nervously.
"Lets just stick to Mr. Weber.. shall we?" Weber shook his head.
"Nein, Hauptsturmführer Weber, 12. SS Panzer division." All the boys look around and Edward heard one of the boys whisper.
"Yo, I didn't know Walter's grandpa was nazi…" Weber looked over in the boy's direction. He made his way over and stood in front of the boy.
"What was that?" He grumbled and the boy gulped.
"I...I didn't say anything." Weber narrowed his eyes.
"Is that how address your superior...what is your name?" The boy laughed nervously.
"No sir...I'm Johnny Fisher." Weber made a rumbling noise in his throat. "Sir…"
"Mr. Demo, you can go, I can handle it from here." Weber said and walked along the column of boys.
"Alright, ummmm, you boys have fun…" Mr. Demo said and left. As soon as soon as He was gone Weber yawned. He walked back out in front and yelled.
"Alright, since we down not have any Panzers, we will focus on labor intensive work. Each one of you go grab a sandbag and come back to me." He pointed over to a large pile of sandbags and they all milled off. Edward grabbed a sandbag and heaved it onto his shoulder. He walked back and stood back in line. One by one they all came back and stood in a line. One of the boys, Charlie Burg, a muscular boy with ginger hair, set his sandbag at his feet.
"Did I say you could set down your sandbag! Pick it up and grab another!" Charlie stood stock still and hesitated. "Did I speak too softly!?"
"N-No sir" Charlie picked his bag and ran back, he grabbed another bag and heaved both under his arms.
"Very good, now follow me, single file." Weber said and turned around, he placed his walking stick on his shoulder and made his way down one of the dirt trails into the forest. They all fell in behind him and walked for about ten minutes in silence
"What is the matter, did no one ever teach you how to march?" Weber said, not even turning around. Suddenly they all quickened pace and put more swing in their step. "Much better, now...we are still missing something…"
"Would that be song sir?" Ludvig called from the back. Weber nodded and it was followed by silence.
"Well get on with it." It was followed by another pause before Mike's voice sang quietly.
"When I wake up, well I'm know I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be the man who wakes up next to you." The group chucked a bit but was quickly silenced.
"If you are laughing, I assume you know the song, and if you know the song, you should be SINGING!" Almost instantly everyone started sing I'm Gonna Be. Edward started to sweat, using his free hand to loosen his tie.
They kept walking for about another half an hour, all the while singing I'm Gonna Be. When they finally stopped, the were in a small clearing in the trees.
"You may set down the sandbags." Edward groaned and dropped his to the ground, it landing on his foot. He winced and kicked it off, kneeling down to grab it and see if anything broke, luckily, nothing had.
"Alright, one important thing the gunner needs to know is to keep a steady aim. You all just walked for forty minutes well singing, so you should be anything but steady." He pulled a pellet gun out of his pocket and set it on a stump. He then walked, what Edward assumed was twenty meters, and set up a target before walking back he pulled out a piece of paper.
"Liam Durand, step forward, the rest of you, do push ups till I call your name." Edward groaned and got onto the ground. He did push ups as one by one, Weber call the boys up to shoot the target, all the while Edward's arms ached.
"Edward Lewis." Edward looked up and crawled forward and on't his knee. He walked next to the old man who places the pellet gun in his hands.
"You have ten rounds, take your best shot." Edward breathed heavily, His hands trembling. He took his first shot, a miss. He took two more, both misses. He hit on his forth, then missed on his fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth. He hit again on his ninth, and once again his tenth and final shot.
"Good try, you may go sit down." Edward nodded and wheezed, handing him the gun back.
"Thank you sir…" The man nodded and Edward walked over and sat next to Mike, who had the biggest smile on his face.
"What's up with you? How many time did you hit?" Mike looked over at him.
"I hit seven times." Edward raised and eyebrow and mumbled, sounding a bit ticked off.
"How the hell did you hit seven times." Mike shrugged.
"I don't know, I'm just good I guess." Edward rolled his eyes, he watched boy after boy miss and hit.
By the end, only seven of the nineteen boys had positive hit ratio, and only one had hit on every shot, and that was Charlie Berg, and he hadn't even broke a sweat.
"You all did very well today, tomorrow we will work on some math."
"Math!?" Mike said and looked up. Weber sighed.
"Yes, trigonometry is important, it will be important to teach you all how armor slope is calculated so you don't waste shots in combat. Do any do you know how that is calculated?" Edward immediately shot up his hand. "Yes."
"Slope is important in calculating effective thickness. For example, the standard T-34 only had frontal armor that was forty seven millimeters thick. The armor however was tilted at sixty degrees. You take the original thickness, forty seven, and divide it by sine of the slope angle, you get the armors effective thickness. That means the T-34 had an effective thickness of ninety four millimeters." Weber was looking at him blankly.
"Yes...that's…that's exactly right." Edward smiled and looked over at Mike, who shook his head. Edward looked back to the old man.
"Edward clearly knows a lot, I suggest you learn from him. You are dismissed." Edward stood up and smiled as Weber walked off down one of the trails, Edward ran to catch up to him.
"Sir, it's real nice of you to teach us." The man grumbled and sighed.
"Well, I figure I might as well put what I know to good use. I think this is important for you to learn, teaches you responsibility, teaches you resourcefulness. I watch the news, I know what's happening, and it will be your generation that will deal with it. And everything you learn here, it will do you good...it'll do you good…"
