Author's Notes:

I guess this is inevitable. For each chapter that took months or even years to take its final form, there were those who remained more or less unchanged ever since I first penned them. This is one of such cases. Then again, as I've said in other instances, the fight scenes are the easiest for me. Sometimes the need to provide proper realism makes it somehow frustrating and forces some quick re-writes, but nothing on the level of the more sensible social scenes. Combat is simple and brutal, you either survive or you do not, small things like social background and gender disappear for a moment, coalescing into the sheer chaos of fire and death, and larger details like one's own personality and blind luck become the true defining factors.

Something to keep in mind while we follow our protagonists into the final days of the worst war in European History.

X

WAR THUNDER

The clattering of iron tracks and the roaring of heavy-duty engines announced the passage of the six vehicles from the Baderberg Panzer Squadron as they moved under the cover of that sparse forest. The space between the trees was wide enough for the war machines to move without much trouble, although it would become awkward if they ever attempted to fight there. Fortunately that wasn't the plan. In the distance, the sun was still timidly peering over horizon, dense cloud formations placidly passing by here and there. Pillars of dark smoke rose to the sky almost everywhere, along with the occasional series of mushroom clouds that marked the impact of artillery barrages.

Moving in an uneven line the formation reached the eastern edge of the forest. They had been moving since daybreak and Maria thought that to be a good place for a pause before they threw themselves into the thick of it once more. She raised a closed fist over her head and the other tank commanders, seeing the gesture, ordered their crews to come to a halt.

"Everyone remembers the plan, right?" Maria asked the others, looking around to guarantee that everyone was paying attention.

They ought to. Colonel Messner had made a point in having the tank commanders present when he laid out the plan, shortly after their arrival at the forward command post, deeper into the forest.

"I'm still not sure about this," Augusta whimpered, her hands gripping firmly to the edges of the commander's hatch.

"There's not much to understand," Anja retorted. "We're bait. Herr Messner has a bunch of AT guns on the other side of the woodland and we just have to guarantee the Soviets get there."

While she spoke, Maria could almost imagine the line of towed AT guns hidden amidst the bushes and tree trunks, their muzzles pointing to the open field between the trees and the stream more to the south. That area would make a perfect kill zone, assuming the squadron managed to lure the enemy there.

"We all understand the plan," Erwin said. "It's just that it is quite a gamble. Who knows how many Ivans are out there?"

"We can do this!" Niekisch, the commander of the Marder III, exclaimed. The gunner, Myrthenbaum, also peered over the edge of the lateral armor plate and pumped his fist in the air.

"Yes! Let's show them what we're made of!" the one-eyed boy yelled. His attitude brought a hopeful smile to Maria's face, but provided little to wash away the overwhelming sense of dread.

"You still sure we should come along, Nitzschmann?"

The commander turned toward Martin, who stood over the glacis of the Porsche Tiger, one arm over the massive gun barrel, his intense gaze focused on her.

"Yes," she nodded, "we have to convince them there's a panzer unit worth pursuing around here. We won't be out there for long, just try to keep up. If this goes well it will be over in less than thirty minutes."

"Assuming that's what happens." In spite of Martin's best intentions he still sounded much harsher than he intended to. Hössler, who was peering through the gunner's hatch gave him an aside glance, surprised by his attitude. Although he noticed it through the corner of his eye, Martin didn't react, keeping his attention focused on Maria.

"If you prefer you can always stay here," Anja retorted, her tone venomous. Deliberately Maria raised a hand, the silent order quite clear to the commander of the Hezter, who kept her defiant expression regardless. Then Maria turned toward Martin, her eyes locking onto his.

"Shall we?" she asked simply. Martin nodded and then tapped the top of the turret. Hössler disappeared into his hatch and the commander himself followed, assuming his post in the radio-operator's post.

"The damned kids are too eager," he uttered under his breath. "I'm having a bad feeling," he added, somewhat louder.

"Don't jinx, commander," Tjessen immediately replied.

"I still think these girls will get us killed," Hössler declared.

"Can it and start paying attention," Martin retorted, decided to keep his crew in line while they followed those girls into war.

Oblivious to that conversation Maria gestured to the other commanders, getting back on the move. With their engines roaring in chorus the tanks cleared the forest and moved over the open spaces beyond, leaving long muddy scars over the wet green fields. It didn't took long for Martin to be proved right. A loud humming came from the heavens, making the tank commanders look up and find the dark silhouettes passing overhead.

"Aircraft," Ysabelle mumbled in horror. She was peering through her hatch, just beside Maria.

"Ackerman, inside," Maria ordered, her command tone starting to take over. The loader did as she was told, closing the hatch behind her. Giving her no more thought, Maria spoke to her mike to relay further instructions. "Simone, tell Herr Messner to be alert."

"Yawol!" the radio-operator replied. Once she finished issuing her orders Maria noticed her hand had inadvertently moved to the pull lever of the MG42 in front of her. Her fingers clenched it and she tried to pull, but the mechanisms were sturdy. She needed a second try with all of her might to finally chamber the first round with a loud clatter.

The squadron now assumed a vague wedge formation as it cruised over the open ground. Looking to her left, Maria could see the roofs of the town they were trying to defend. For some reason she felt strangely pulled towards it. Shaking her head she dispelled the haunting sensation and returned her attention to the situation at hand.

The humming returned, this time coming from the left. Everyone turned in time to see the sleek silhouettes of the three Il-2 ground attack aircraft, usually known as Sturmoviks, descending from the skies. Augusta dropped into the turret of the M3 Medium with a yelp and the other commanders cowered, awaiting for the inevitable. But Maria remained where she stood, fixated on the incoming treat like a deer caught in the headlights of a passing car.

She saw the flashes on the aircraft's hoods and wings when they opened fire with their assortment of machine guns and autocannons. The ground between the tanks exploded in volcanoes of mud. A few rounds chinked at the armor plates, ricocheting without scoring any damage. The Sturmoviks passed over the tanks, leaving a thunderous roar in their wake. They quickly started to gain altitude and banked eastwards, flying away from their enemies.

As long as we're moving they'll have a hard time hitting us, Maria thought. Looking to the other side, she saw the Hetzer moving further north, breaking formation.

"Simone, tell Anja to stay in formation," Maria barked to the mike. She knew Hippo Team was brave but strafing runs like that were known for having an impact on the crews. She herself was trembling, her right hand starting to shake with a will of its on, regardless of how strongly she kept her fingers clenched around the machine gun handle.

"Look, it's another pass!" Niekisch, the commander of the Anteater Team, yelled. Maria's attention drifted to the Marder III, where the boy stood upright, pointing to the sky, and then to the tail of the formation. Another flight of Il-2s was descending over them. This time the Soviet pilots didn't even care to use their guns. The wings of the attack aircraft erupted in fire and smoke when the rockets they carried came alive, dashing into the German armored vehicles.

Air strikes with rockets were known to suffer from very poor accuracy. Soviet pilots quickly understood that in order to have a higher probability of success against their enemies they had to saturate them with projectiles. In spite of their relative inefficiency, such attacks were always impressive. The impact of the rockets was nothing like the previous strafing run. The ground literally boiled with explosions, overturned mud flying high and washing over the armored hides of the German war machines, while a ponderous bellowing washed across the landscape, engulfing the snarl of the engines and Maria's screams.

Only one rocket hit its target, but it was more than enough to break the formation. It found its way to the exposed fighting compartment of the Marder III and detonated, the ammo stored inside of the vehicle exploding a heartbeat later. The main gun jumped out of its mounting and flames erupted through the driver's hatch, the vehicle coming to a screeching halt while the rest of the squadron moved past it, the crews oblivious to what had just happened.

They did notice the hellish barrage. When the ground exploded around their tanks the drivers changed direction, trying to make themselves a harder target. Leopon Team moved further to the right, disappearing behind a hill. Maria didn't even realize it. She'd covered her head when the explosions started and couldn't take her eyes away from the burning husk of the Marder. Her mind was blank and her jaw trembled. It took her a moment to notice the voice screaming through her headphones.

"Maria!" It was Meike. "What do we do?"

Maria blinked and looked around. The remaining tanks were spread all over the place, moving without direction. She needed to bring herself together or no one would make it.

"Keep moving forward and stop atop that hill in front of us! Simone, tell the others to follow us and stop when we do!" There was still a mission to fulfill, Maria thought. They couldn't give up or else their sacrifices would be in vain. The other vehicles then started to realign with the lead, the Panzer IV dashing forward well ahead of them. They were also starting to fall back into formation. That simple fact gave Maria a sense of pride and even hope. They could still pull that off...

"Anja's asking where Anteater Team is," Simone said. Her words made Maria look over her shoulder, to the burning ruin now getting farther and farther away.

"They didn't make it," she replied, unable to hide her sadness. Simone said nothing more, but what else was left to be said?

More aircraft approached, this time coming from the left. But they didn't attack outright, instead making a distant pass westwards to assess the damage the previous flight had done.

"What were they thinking?" Maria mumbled to herself. "This is hopeless."

Having finally reached the stumpy hill, the Panzer took little time to crawl to the top. Under Meike's precise driving it came to a halt right on the summit, wobbling slightly. Maria had reached for her binoculars to inspect the enemy, but discovered they weren't needed. Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped open when she saw at least twenty armored vehicles progressing across the green plains, with dozens of troops stacked over them. To Maria the formation seemed massive, and yet she knew that was but a minuscule portion of the true might of the Red Army.

Two T-34s opened fire as they saw the German tank peeking over the hill but the rounds went too wide. It seemed that Maria's worse fears had come true.

There was no way that plan would work.

The two Sturmoviks that had made the recon pass moved a little further to the west before turning back. Although the tanks in the plains were obvious, along with the pillar of oily smoke rising from the destroyed vehicle, the rest of the German troops in the surrounding woodland weren't. Standing in the edge of the forest Roy spotted the aircraft with his binoculars before they could see him. Some of his men were also observing, but from the relative safety of the tree trunks behind him.

Plumes of dark smoke erupted around the Il-2s when a battery of 88mm guns hidden on the other side of the woodland started firing. Roy had given instructions to keep the skies clear while the tank squadron was out there, although now it seemed that they had moved out of the range of his anti-aircraft artillery. One of the Soviet planes burst into flames and fell from the sky with a desperate screech. A large fireball marked the crash site.

Roy believed that the Soviets would probably try some counter-battery fire really soon. The other Sturmovik descended to avoid the flak, only to bring itself within the range of the machine guns positioned along the trees. Tracer fire pierced the air, but the aircraft seemed to fly through it unscathed, coming even lower and passing just over the tree tops. In spite of the hellish cacophony Roy still heard Sergeant Fuery approaching him.

"How's it going?" he asked without turning back to his subordinate.

"They've lost one vehicle and there's another one unaccounted for," the young sergeant replied, his glance also focused on the pillar of smoke ascending from the remains of the first Sturmovik. "As far as I know they still haven't found the Soviet lead elements."

Roy gritted his teeth. He knew that operation was risky, but now there was a real possibility that the Baderberg Tank Squadron would end up annihilated without having achieved anything. He turned to Fuery.

"And the Luftwaffe?"

The sergeant shook his head. Roy nodded, disappointed but not surprised. The Luftwaffe had stopped being a true fighting force a long time ago, but there was still hope that at least a few aircraft could take to the air for long enough to make even a desperate plan work.

But that wouldn't happen. The girls were on their own.