Strike Witches exists as Light Novels, Manga, anime and as several non-adult, semi-official doujinshi in Japan. It is owned by Kadokawa Shoten, Gonzo, other entities and its various creators in Japan, and by Funimation (as an anime only,) in the United States, NOT by me.

Beyond how I establish the origins of several characters and a slight name-change, this story is not meant to be an AU.

As it relates to everything else, "Woher, die Zauberer?" takes place during 'The Battle of Britannia' in 1940, concurrent with the 'Suomus Misfits Squadron' series of Light-Novels, and three to four years before the time of the 501st 'Strike Witches' Joint Fighter Wing.

(-)

"Woher, die Zauberer?" ("Where from, the Warlock?")

Chapter Three.

(-)

(Late evening, September 12th, 1940. Liberion aircraft carrier USS Enterprise, near the Liberion Virgin Islands.)

To Admiral William, 'Uncle Bill,' Halsey, the old Lexington would always hold a special place in his heart, but now he was on a brand-new ship, built from the keel up to handle witches flying Strikers, as well as the normal compliment of fighters, bombers, and attack planes.

Another day had come and gone, and after seeing to it that 'His' girls were back on board the ship safely, he had retired to his cabin to listen to the nightly radio broadcast from London.

Next to the radio was a photograph of himself on the Lexington, along with the first eight witches assigned to a carrier. One of the witches had her face marked out by a pen...

Thoughts of the only Neuroi Ace in the Liberion Navy, Elizabeth 'Crusher' O'Hare, so-called for how many Navy strikers she'd destroyed, still occasionally gave him a nervous tic in his left eye. Only the realization that she finally seemed to have found a useful place in the Suomus Misfits Squadron kept him from wishing grievous harm upon the girl every night before he retired...

Taking a cigarette from a case sitting next to the radio, Halsey lit it, adjusted the radio's volume, then sat down.

"Edward R. Murrow speaking, and; This, is London.

The Neuroi blitz of this island nation continues.

During the day, attacks are directed against the bases of the Royal Air Force, while at night, the Neuroi continue their seemingly indiscriminate bombing of civilian targets.

Even now, as I speak to you from the rooftop of a hotel located within the environs of the Britannian Capitol, the sounds of air-raid sirens and anti-aircraft guns can be heard in the distance.

Overhead, the glow of fires below reflects off of the contrails left by RAF night fighters, as well as those left by the new Striker-using night-witches. Together, they struggle to protect this island nation from the ravages of the alien Neuroi.

Prime Minister Winston Churchill's office reports..."

A loud explosion, followed by the sudden sound of anti-aircraft guns opening up quite close to Murrow caused Halsey to scoot forward on his chair.

"...my god! Did you see what they hit?"

Voices in the background sounded excited, and Halsey focused on them, trying to gain some clue as to what had happened. What he heard sent a chill up his spine...

"Ladies and Gentleman. There's been a heavy explosion quite close by, and our Britannian hosts have insisted that we take shelter immediately. On that note I'll say; this is Edward R. Murrow. Good night, and good luck."

"Ouch!"

Realizing he'd let the cigarette burn down to his fingers, Halsey stubbed it out in an ashtray. Standing, he went over to the phone mounted on the wall next to his desk. Picking up the handset, he punched the button connecting him to the ship's bridge. "This is Admiral Halsey, Get me Captain Pownall."

The bridge crewman who had answered the phone quickly summoned Enterprise's captain.

"Pownall speaking. What can I do for you Admiral?"

Looking at the radio, Halsey hoped his suspicions might prove themselves incorrect. "I want someone to monitor the BBC continuously until I order otherwise. Additionally, I want our two night witches placed on a fifteen minute alert. Take them off the daytime flight-roster as well. They will now be on night duty exclusively until I say otherwise."

"Yes Sir. I'll take care of everything at once Sir."

Wondering when he would ever be able to get a full night's sleep again, Halsey looked over at the wall clock before shaking his head. "If Britannia just took the hit I think they did, then I hope they can deal with it without much trouble..."

(-)

(Early morning, September 13th. Over the Britannian Midlands.)

Normally, a witch wouldn't be placed in an active squadron until she was at least twelve years old...

Loss of her home country and the desperate needs of war had placed Heidemarie W. Schnaufer in a front line combat unit even before her eleventh birthday.

When a call had gone out for witches to participate in a new mixed-nationality unit, she had immediately been chosen by her commanding officer to go. Believing that meant she was thought to be worthless because of her young age, Heidemarie had collapsed into a crying wreck.

"Not true!" Gruppenkommandeur Galland had been quick to explain. Yes, she was desperate to send Heidemarie away, but only because her powers as a Night Witch were too precious to risk because of inadequate training. Being sent away to what would initially be a training squadron would give her the chance to grow in age and experience with less immediate risk to life and limb. If it was her wish to return when the training was complete, she would be welcomed back with open arms.

Sniffing back her tears, Heidemarie had nodded and accepted the transfer.

To say the environment she encountered after transferring to OTU 56 was a bit of a shock only told part of the story. Though Leutnant Barkhorn still insisted on ramrod straight Karlsländ-style discipline, things where still much more relaxed under Hauptmann Bader than they had been in her old squadron.

Nearly a month of training had brought Heidemarie a promotion to Unteroffizier and more responsibility.

Though she was quite capable of flying alone at night, Hauptmann Bader and Leutnant Barkhorn had decided her training flights were too valuable to waste.

Now, on each night Heidemarie went out, she was accompanied by another witch from the squadron. The main purpose of course was to familiarize the other witches in her new squadron with night flying. However, she had also learned of another reason...

Recently, from regular RAF, Luftstreitkräfte, and Forces Aériennes Galliaises Libres squadrons, experienced witches flying alone at night had inexplicably vanished. Even though OTU 56 was only allowed to carry practice weapons, it was obvious the two officers intent was that with another witch nearby, Heidemarie would not 'inexplicably vanish.'

Tonight her companion was a twelve year old witch from Gallia named François de Labouchère. Though there was still a bit of a language barrier, hand signals and a few easily understood words the officers insisted everyone learn made working together easy enough.

Glowing green, two magical antennas extended from the side of Heidemarie's head, just past the white-feathered ear-tufts of her gyrfalcon spirit-familiar. Like all other Night Witches, the antenna let her detect anything flying in the night sky, and on especially calm nights, to pick up radio transmissions from very far away.

On this night's training patrol, she had been listening to the transmissions of a Liberion aircraft carrier as it recovered its witches until transmissions from much closer overwhelmed the signal.

As they had done on many previous nights, the Neuroi were attacking London. Normally, communication within the city was done with land-lines, to avoid openly broadcasting something the Neuroi might intercept, (presuming they even collected such intelligence,) but tonight, a lot of radio transmissions were coming out of the London area. To Heidemarie, such a sudden change could only mean something significant had happened...

Coming out of a group of thin clouds, Heidemarie looked to her right and saw that Labouchère was still close, and was even now closing once more to the proper interval. Since a few of her nighttime companions had done a lot worse, she was about to compliment the older girl for her skill when a faint-flash came from the glowing antenna. Looking back at the clouds, her attention was drawn to spot she could only describe as 'odd...' Something WAS there, but for some reason, her tracking abilities couldn't lock it in. She kept trying, and for a fleeting moment she held onto a target, but it slipped away once more. Suddenly remembering the stories about witches vanishing at night caused her to feel a shudder of fear. Whatever was in the clouds, there was no-telling how long it had been following them. If they hadn't come out into the open, it was possible they would never have noticed it until it was too late...

Just as she activated her magic-powered earpiece communication unit to report the fleeting contact, Heidemarie saw a bright-red glow begin to emanate from inside the cloud... "Ach... Achtung! Sutton Bridge! Neuroi berührung am..." ("Neuroi contact at...")

Labouchère shouted something in Gällian just as the Neuroi fired...

(-)

(RAF Sutton Bridge.)

From where she sat in the radio bunker reading a visual novel about the witches fighting in Africa, Donna Bader jumped awkwardly to her feet and leaned over the shoulder of the man monitoring Heidemarie and Labouchère's training mission. "What happened? Get her back!"

Frantically working the dials of his equipment, the RAF radioman called repeatedly for Schnaufer or Labouchère to repeat the contact report. After several more tries, he turned back to Captain Bader. "It's no use Ma'am. They're either not able to respond, or there's some kind of interference blocking the transmissions..."

Common sense told Donna she should immediately send out every witch in OTU 56 who had enough experience and training to fly at night, but they had never been issued with, or authorized to carry real weapons. If there was a Neuroi out there, they wouldn't be able to fight it. "Strewth!" Seething, she finally turned back and put her hand on the radioman's shoulder. "Contact RAF Duxford! That's the closest base with Night Witches!"

With a nod, the radioman moved to follow his orders.

(-)

(Near the Ouse River, East Anglia, Britannia. 2nd platoon, D Company, Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry.)

A shriek in the sky, followed by the sound of an impact and something shattering woke Leftenant John Howard from a sound sleep. His Sergeant was already up, going around waking the rest of the unit. Another shriek, followed by the red flash of a Neuroi beam and the ghostly-blue of a magic shield activating immediately brought him to full wakefulness. "Second Platoon stand to! Prepare to move out!"

Immediately after the command, the sounds of fighting came again, and the platoon redoubled its efforts to get ready.

Not wanting to wait, Howard began running up the forested hill his unit was bivouacking on, trusting the Sergeant to quickly follow with the rest of the platoon. Nearing the crest, he dropped to the ground and did a quick crawl forward until he could see into the draw on the other side...

Down below, an insectoid-shaped Neuroi about the size of a small car was advancing on what seemed from the equipment she was wearing to be a witch. Cradling the limp form of another girl in one arm, the silver-haired witch held out the other and deployed her shield once more as a shriek sounded and the attacking Neuroi fired its beam weapon again.

Normally regular troops had an extremely difficult time fighting the Neuroi, even with heavy weapons. However, if something wasn't done, one of Churchill's 'Few' would be killed, and Britannia's defenses lessened by that much.

Scooting back a bit, Howard turned to find his Sergeant waiting for him. ("Boys Rifles up! Platoon deploy in a line along the crest! Double quick! There's a witch in trouble down there!")

Whispered orders flowed back down the gathered soldiers. Showing speed which did their training proud; the platoon's two heavy rifle teams were instantly on the hill's crest.

With the Neuroi now nearly on top of the witch, Howard saw everyone else was also ready, so he jumped to his feet. "UP the OX and Bucks! Open fire!"

Two sharp, heavy cracks rang out, followed immediately by the sound of almost thirty men opening up with Thompsons, Bren Light Machine-guns, and Enfield rifles.

The Neuroi actually staggered from the impact of the Boys shots, then began twitching and trying to turn around as the weight of the conventional firepower directed at it began to send pieces of its carapace flying off to disintegrate into snow white dust.

Behind the Neuroi, Howard could see the shield of the witch easily shedding the platoon's fire, just as he'd been told it could. "Grenades!"

As the automatic weapons continued firing, the men with Enfields set them down and reached for the Mills Bombs at their waists.

Staggering again from hits by the Boys heavy rifles, the Neuroi hesitated for a moment, then finally managed to slew itself around and fire.

To Howard's left, one of his riflemen simply vanished, as if the man had never even existed. The rest drew their arms back and a near dozen grenades rained down on and in front of the Neuroi. The creature vanished in the ripple of explosions, and when they faded, it was down and crippled, but most distressingly already healing the damage.

"Der Core! Ankommen der Core!"

Exposed within the Neuroi's inner working was a glowing red crystal. As the creature's carapace began recovering, Howard's Sergeant responded to the witch's heavily accented, shouted words and leapt to the Boys rifleman to direct their fire.

Six heavy shots cracked out in rapid succession. Just as it seemed the effort would prove futile, one of the heavy, armor-piercing bullets hit home. The red crystal shattered, and with it, the Neuroi.

Ignoring the slowly dispersing white shards of the Neuroi, Howard ran down into the draw to check on the condition of the witch. In the light of the nearly full moon and the green glow of antenna identifying her as a Night Witch, he finally understood the accent when he saw her Karlsländ uniform. Wearing the dark blue of Free Gallia and cradled in the girl's arms was another badly wounded witch. "Medic forward!"

Red Cross prominent on his sleeve, the medic quickly appeared and knelt next to the two witches. However, after a brief examination, he shook his head and stood back up.

Knowing what that meant, the Karlsländ witch looked up at Howard, tears pouring from her eyes. "Wenn wir waren überfiel, Sie gestoßen mich beiseite und nahmt die Schuß vom Neuroi... Letzte Monat ICH absichtlich bankrott etwas irgend köstlich ihr, und still Sie tat es!" ("When we were attacked, she shoved me aside and took the shot from the Neuroi... Last month I deliberately broke something precious to her, and still she did it!")

Turning away as the witch began sobbing, rocking back and forth while cradling her companion, Howard kicked at part of a splintered tree branch lying on the ground. "How old was that poor girl? Twelve? Thirteen? I can't believe we've been reduced to depending on little girls just to survive! What's the point of thirty men going around, armed to the teeth, if they can't even protect one little girl?"

Before the Sergeant could answer, a Lance-Corporal came up, holding a twisted Bren-gun. Even at night, it was easy to see the red paint identifying it as a practice weapon... taking the ruined gun, the Sergeant examined it for a moment, then shook his head. "This is why those two witches were in trouble, Sir. They must be from that unit at Sutton Bridge."

Confused, Howard looked at the ruined weapon, then over at the witch. As a pair of riflemen used their field tunics and Enfields to create a simple stretcher, the medic was trying with some difficulty to get the Karlsländer to let go of the deceased Gallian. "That's ridiculous! They're in a war zone and they're still carrying practice weapons?"

Stepping closer, the Sergeant looked Howard right in the eye. "Not that I know anything, 'official,' mind you Sir, but I've a hometown mate in the RAF over at Sutton Bridge. He told me last week that high command has withheld permission for the witches in the unit there to carry real weapons. Something about them just being a training unit, so they don't need them."

Shocked, Howard stared at his Sergeant for a moment, then shook his head in disgust. "Get the men ready to move out. We need to get back to regimental base camp and report what happened. When that's done, I'll take some men and a lorry and deliver the girls back to Sutton Bridge." Just as the man saluted and started to turn, Howard stopped him. "Who did we lose?"

Looking around for a moment at the men, the Sergeant finally turned back to Howard. "Todd, Sir. Private Richard Todd."

Nodding, Howard let the Sergeant go on his way.

(-)

(Mid-afternoon, 14 September, 1940. RAF Watnall. 12 Group HQ.)

"...and I will not request the use of your unit, even to hunt these so-called 'Ambush-bug' Neuroi, nor will I approve the issuance of live ordinance until such time as it is deemed combat ready! We have few enough weapons as it is; I have no intention of wasting any on a unit that loses a member on a training mission! Do I make myself clear Captain Bader? If you're going to continue insisting I request activation of OTU 56 as a combat unit, then I'll have you arrested for insubordination!"

Waiting in the outer office of 12 Group's commander, Lieutenant Roberta Johnson wondered how Captain Bader would answer Trafford Leigh-Mallory's tirade.

Confirmation that the Neuroi had been ambushing Night Witches was quickly passed up to Fighter Command Headquarters in London, with thanks rapidly coming back from Hugh Dowding himself. However, such thanks still didn't make up for the sight of OTU 56's first death as Leftenant Howard and his men unloaded the small, frail-looking, battered body from their lorry.

Later, in the privacy of the witch's barracks, Leutnant Barkhorn had flown into a rage, saying two witches could have easily dealt with such a small Neuroi if they'd only been armed with real weapons.

Just as angry, though slightly calmer, Captain Bader had agreed. Many hours of relentless effort climbing up the chain of command had secured her an appointment with the man who would have to request the combat use of OTU 56, 12 Groups commander, Trafford Leigh-Mallory.

Though Donna had told Roberta on the way up from Sutton Bridge that she hoped it would be otherwise, it sounded as if her worst fears had been confirmed, and the request turned down once more...

"Sir! I understand Sir! The request is withdrawn!"

Standing, Roberta waited for the stone-faced Donna to exit Leigh-Mallory's inner office. Sensing it was best not to say anything for the moment, she followed in silence as the captain strode angrily out to the Austin Tilly light truck they'd driven up from Sutton Bridge in. "No go, huh?"

Remaining quiet, Donna got into the truck, waited for Roberta to do the same, then drove off. Not until they were well away from Watnall did her demeanor finally crack. "A pox on that arrogant fool! He can't be rid of all the regular witch units because he knows he can't really do without them, but he's determined to see OTU 56 fail! Unfortunately, he's got the authority to make sure that happens! As long as he refuses to call on us for help, there's no need to authorize the issuance of real weapons!"

As the Austin passed through several villages, Roberta began to notice the lanes were strangely empty... However, thoughts about how to deal with the problem at hand kept her mind focused in that direction. When they finally turned onto the road for Sutton Bridge, she crossed her arms and looked slyly over at Donna. "As I'm sure you Brits know, we Liberions have a bit of a rebellious streak in us..."

Glancing towards Roberta, Donna saw the Liberion's expression and raised an eyebrow.

After meeting the look for only an instant, Roberta placed an arm in the Austin's open window and began watching the countryside go by. "If I look hard enough, I might just find some weapons lying around... Who knows, that Lieutenant Howard seemed sympathetic to our having the right to defend ourselves, perhaps I could ask him if he knows where some are if he's still at the base..."

Thinking about the risks and ramifications of Roberta's suggestion, Donna remained silent until she pulled the Austin to a stop outside Sutton Bridge's main gate. As the guard came forward to examine their identification papers, it was obvious his mind wasn't exactly focused on what was happening. "Is something wrong Sergeant?"

Startled, the Tommy gave Donna a blank look for a second, then handed back the two sets of identification. "Some... something bad happened in London last night Ma'am. They've just announced on the radio that the Prime Minister is going to address the nation at the top of the hour."

Looking at her watch, Donna noted the time before returning the guard's salute and pressing down on the accelerator. "We've got just enough time to reach the barracks."

Sensing her companion's apprehension, Roberta held on as the Austin raced across the base, arriving with the screech of worn tires outside the barracks housing the rest of OTU 56's witches. Throwing open her door, she raced around to the other side to help the stiff-legged Donna extract herself, then lead the way inside.

Being forced to do so by nearly a week of continuous rain, the witches of OTU 56 had worked to construct double-decker beds so everyone could have a dry place to sleep, despite the resultant crowding. Now, they were gathered around a radio placed on a crate in the small common area that had been created in the back of the barracks.

Barkhorn and Perrine saluted before returning their attention to the radio...

"This is the BBC in London.

Prime Minister Winston Churchill is about to make..."

To Roberta, and by their posture and whispering, many of the other witches as well, it sounded as if the radio announcer was fighting to hold back from sobbing openly...

"...pa... pardon me... Prime Minister Churchill is about to make an official announcement to the Country, and the Empire."

Everyone in the barracks leaned forward and tensed up as a few hisses and pops came over the radio.

"This is the Prime Minister speaking to all Britannian subjects here at home; serving throughout the world in our armed forces, or in whatever far-flung land business or their travels may have taken them.

Of all the duties it has been my privilege to fulfill, the one I must perform now is the most somber I could possibly think of..."

As Barkhorn and Perrine translated the words into their respective languages, Roberta saw Donna suddenly give an unnatural shudder. Seeing the tension in the Britannian's body, she knew with a certainty that something dreadful must have happened...

"...George the Sixth, our King, is dead."

From Donna Bader, perhaps also from Britannian's all over the world, Gertrude Barkhorn felt such a sudden sense of loss and grief it was almost a physical blow... OTU 56's leader was calm and stoic on the surface, jaw tightly clenched and lips thin, but a soft keening whine was beginning to sound from her throat...

"In order that he might provide confidence to the residents of London, as well as Britannians everywhere, through his presence, our sovereign chose to remain in the capital.

Last night, during a heavy Neuroi raid, Buckingham Palace was hit. Despite a level of protection which was considered sufficient, the bunker sheltering the King, his wife, and many others employed at Buckingham Palace suffered several direct hits. Though none of the Neuroi weapons penetrated the bunker itself, their concussive effect was so great, all those inside perished."

Similar to the time Ernsta Mayer had insulted Captain Bader, Perrine suddenly felt a cold chill. Turning to look, she saw that the captain's look had changed from one of loss to one of rage...

"Princess Elizabeth, the King's daughter, was away training with a special auxiliary unit of the RAF and is safe. She is now the Queen-designate, and has been recalled to the capital.

By established rules of succession, we will begin a national period of mourning. A Regency will immediately be established to insure continuity within the Monarchy, and upon turning eighteen, Princess Elizabeth will assume her full responsibilities and duties as Queen of Britannia.

I implore everyone to carry on. Even as we mourn, we must not fail to see through to the end our efforts against the Neuroi.

Though these pestilential creatures have struck us a heavy blow, perhaps one beyond the capabilities of their alien minds to understand, Britannia shall endure, as it always has, until ultimately, victory is ours."

Returning to the microphone, the announcer gave information about tentative funeral arrangements, then said something about Queen-designate Elizabeth speaking the next day. Roberta ignored that. Like hers, the attention and eyes of fifteen other girls was focused on Donna.

Seeing Captain Bader struggling to make a decision, Perrine stood. "Captain Bader. The Neuroi have struck us a severe blow as well! How then, are they to answer for such things?" Behind Perrine, the rest of the Gallians stood to show their support.

Standing up along with the rest of the Karlsländers, Gertrude Barkhorn clenched her fist and took a step forward. "Hauptmann Bader! All of us know how to fight! All we ask is that we be permitted to do so! Those who don't have real combat experience have still been training nearly non-stop, and for all that you consider my opinion to count, I feel that everyone is ready!" As a chorus of agreement sounded, Barkhorn glanced at Heidemarie Schnaufer, who nodded with determination, then faced Bader once more. "We need not have suffered such a loss! This inexplicable delay in activating our unit is the REAL cause! If we had been given weapons, it is the NEUROI who would have fallen, not our Gällian kamerad!"

A renewed round of nods and restrained shouts of agreement made the decision for Donna. Straightening up, she gave everyone in the barracks a determined look. "Very well then. Begging forgiveness is always easier than asking permission."

Reaching out, Roberta touched Donna's shoulder before pointing out the door. "I'll go see if Lieutenant Howard is still on the base."

With a nod, Donna sent Roberta on her way before turning to face the rest of the witches in OTU 56. "Even though this is being done to make sure no one else in this unit dies without the chance to fight back, I want all of you to understand that trouble will most assuredly come our way when 12 Group finds out."

After translating for their companions, Barkhorn and Perrine turned and lead the thirteen other witches in a display of sharp salutes.

Bader quickly returned the salute, then walked over to a map of Lincolnshire County that was pinned to the wall behind the radio. "Okay then. However we manage to secure weapons, I've got an idea how we can go about keeping it a secret for a while..."

(-)

(Midnight. 15 September, 1940. RAF Watnall. 12 Group HQ.)

Still annoyed by Captain Bader's earlier request that OTU 56 be activated as a combat unit, Trafford Leigh-Mallory tried to find relaxation in things which were easier to control than a bothersome, crippled witch. The report which lay on his desk was a statistical analysis by Doctor Niels Bohr which predicted the Midlands town of Coventry should be the target of a Neuroi raid within twenty-four hours. Also sent to the government in London, the report meant additional RAF and anti-aircraft units would be assigned to defend the city.

More defenses for Coventry made his job easier in more ways than one... protecting a vital industrial center was important, but the increased number of personnel in the area also meant it would be easier for Bohr's recovery teams to move around without undue attention being directed their way.

With such a concentration of defensive firepower, surely that which was needed for the special project being directed by Air Commodore Malloney would fall easily into their hands.

tsuzuku.

(-)

Author's Notes:

I'm going on a short vacation, so it may be a few weeks before the next chapter comes out.

Elizabeth 'Crusher' O'Hare: A Liberion witch from the Suomus Misfits Squadron series of light novels. Infamous for the number of Strikers she's wrecked or otherwise destroyed. At the end of her last mission aboard the USS Lexington, she managed to destroy the last eight Strikers on the ship during a landing accident. The other seven witches were sent to the infirmary, but O'Hare escaped without a scratch.

Heidemarie W. Schnaufer: A Karlsländ witch who has only appeared in the eight chapter manga 'The Sky That Connects Us,' which covers the time period between the two Strike Witches anime seasons. As I could find no information on her home unit, I placed her in Adolfine Galland's JG 26. At the time of "Woher, die Zauberer?" she is not yet twelve.

Gruppenkommandeur Galland: Adolfine Galland of JG 26, 'The Abbeville Girls.' (Based on Adolf Galland, JG 26, 'The Abbeville Boys,' a German fighter unit based around Abbeville France during WW II.) By 1944, (time of the 501st Strike Witches,) Adolfine Galland is Chief of all Karlsländ witches.

Night Witch: A witch with a type of magic that gives them the ability to use Radar, as well as to detect and receive radio transmissions.

Mills Bombs: Britannian version of the standard Liberion (US) 'Pineapple' grenade.

Boys anti-tank rifle: 1940 Britannian version of the modern Barrette .50 caliber anti-material rifle. This is the same weapon used by Lynette Bishop in the 'Strike Witches' anime.

Thompsons, Bren Light Machine-guns, Enfield rifles: Weapons used by Britannian (British) Infantry in 1940. The Thompson is an export version of the famous 'Tommy-gun' of Liberion (US) Prohibition-Era fame. The Bren Light Machinegun is used by Perrine Clostermann in the Strike Witches anime.

Private Richard Todd: Richard Todd was an actor who served in the British Army during World War II. He actually met Major John Howard at Pegasus Bridge (A battle shown in the 1962 movie; 'The Longest Day,) and would later play John Howard during the filming of that movie.

Tommy: Britannian version of a common soldier, or G.I.

On September 13th, 1940, five German bombs DID hit Buckingham Palace. Fortunately, no one was seriously injured. That the Neuroi do 'drop bombs' is documented in several of the light novels, as well as in episode 11 of the second season of the Strike Witches anime.

At the time this story takes place, Princess Elizabeth, (Queen Elizabeth II,) was fourteen years old. She did serve in an auxiliary unit during the war, but instead of being in an RAF unit, where I placed her for the purposes of this story, she served in an army unit.