Life After Tankery

"Is something on your mind, Nishizumi-dono?" Yukari said as Anglerfish Team had ice cream together one afternoon late in their third year. "You look lost in thought."

"I suppose I'm thinking about what might have been," Miho said. "Specifically, what I might have done with my life if I hadn't gotten back into tankery. I came to Oarai to avoid tankery- which, of course, didn't happen- not because I had any specific plans in mind."

"Well, I'm glad that you chose tankery, Nishizumi-dono," Yukari said. "But I did hear that many people have plans for careers that don't necessarily involve tankery."

Yukari admitting those words out loud was sobering in a few ways. Yukari always had wondered what sort of career she would make out of her interest in tanks, since, as a student in the second division, her grades were not the best. Her other crewmates saw tankery as something they did with friends, while her friends from Hippo Team saw it as an outlet for their historical interests. Their paths would likely take them many different directions once they graduated at the end of the year.

"That's true," Miho said. "Even the Nishizumi school, with its focus on winning at all costs, recognizes that many of its graduates will have lives after tankery."

Miho thought back to one photo Kikuyo had showed her of her and her two friends. Kikuyo was wearing a kimono that served as her maid uniform, Ami was wearing her dress uniform and Takako was wearing a suit. Kikuyo had told Miho that while many Nishizumi school graduates became famous as professional tankery, taught others tankery in turn, or joined the JSDF, there were many other paths in life for them- from homemakers to career women, from traditional professions to newer jobs, from full-time employees to freelancers, and from leaders to subordinates.

Miho looked over to her other friends from her team, each of whom had their own reasons for getting involved. Saori hoped to find a boyfriend through tankery, Hana wished to revitalize her flower arranging, and Mako needed to clear her tardiness record in order to advance a year. All except Saori had succeeded, but they continued to do tankery for the moment, as something they did together with their friends, until their lives took them separate ways.

Funakubo Masaki walked though a local bookstore, going shopping with her husband Masaya.

"This brings back memories," Masaya said. "I remember meeting you while you were working here."

"Indeed, Masaya-san," Masaki said. "I was glad to hear of your interest in books, and even more glad that you saw me as more than just another employee to talk with."

"Well, you did seem to be more passionate about your job than most of the others," Masaya said. "You did eventually give it up, but while you had it, it wasn't just a paycheck to you."

"The fact that I didn't earn much aside," Masaki said with an amused smile, "I generally believe in putting my all into whatever I take part in. I may not be the most talented individual, but I will not settle for less than my best."

Masaki thought back to her time in tankery. Her performance was good, albeit often unfavorably compared to her sister, but she did not believe she had the ability to pursue a professional career.

They then passed by a table full of books in paperback, and Masaki saw Masae's new book. Masaki immediately recognized her older sister, who was on the cover in a suit and tie. A middle-aged woman walked up to the table, picked up a copy of the book and left, exchanging a polite hello with Masaki without realizing he relationship with the book's author.

While Masae was certain to acknowledge her family- her parents, her sister, her husband and her daughters- on many occasions, she was well known nation-wide, while people would only know Masaki in relation to her. Since Masaki had taken her husband's name, while Masae had not, their relationship was not obvious at first glance.

"Do you ever regret how things turned out?" Masaya said, noticing that his wife had gone silent.

"Not at all, dear," Masaki said. "I'm simply happy for my sister. For as long as I did tankery, I knew that I couldn't be the kind of leader or teacher that she became, and her ambitions would have been wasted in the life of a simple housewife. We chose our own paths in life, or perhaps they chose us."

Masaya nodded. It had taken many years or him to find his chosen profession, but when he did, he felt what Masae and her sister had when they had come to that realization. There was no use in being weighed down by regret or envy of others; people had to make their own decisions and strive toward their own goals, however grand or humble they were.

Kazumi sat in her office inside her Hokkaido home, a small house that she shared with her husband. The office was a simple yet professional workspace, as while Kazumi almost never showed the room to guests, it was meant to be a workspace in which she could concentrate on her writing.

Kazumi had less use than ever for distractions. She was writing a column on tankery advice, and was struggling to find the right tone, particularly with regards to what to say to those who were less skilled at tankery. She wanted to encourage them to try hard, but knew that they had most likely had enough of "put up or shut up" from their teachers and coaches. She could not simply tell them what they wanted to hear, but if she were too harsh or discouraging, potential readers might turn the page or hit the back button and ignore her.

Kazumi believed she was better suited to freelance work than she was to a full time job, but it required a certain amount of discipline. She still had her deadlines, and she still had to reach out to others for work. Her employers made their expectations clear to her, but also recognized that she was an adult, and did not need to have lessons drilled into her. Either she could meet their expectations, or they would find someone who would.

The gears began turning in her head. She thought back to when she heard that Masae, her friend, former subordinate and successor as commander of Pravda, had defeated Maginot. When their coach, Kumakura Toshi, visited Kazumi in the hospital, she gave her the good news, but gently suggested that it might be best for her to step down. Kazumi had served the team well, but the team needed stable leadership, and Masae, who had proved herself as acting commander, seemed like the best choice.

It was a difficult decision for Kazumi, but in the end, she did what she believed to be best for the team. She did not fault Masae for taking over, and believed that Masae was a better commander. The two women were still friends two decades later, having attended each other's weddings, and kept up with each other's accomplishments in their very different careers.

Finally, everything seemed so clear to Kazumi, and she continued writing.

"Some people have more difficulty than others with tankery, and to those who struggle, I offer my sympathies and this advice. If you have a weakness, never give up on working to overcome it. If the team has a job for you, do it to the best of your ability. If the team chooses someone else instead, take it with grace and resolve to be of use to the team however you can. As long as you make the most morally sound and sportsmanlike decisions, your experience with tankery will be a beneficial one."

Kazumi breathed a sigh of relief and continued to work on her article, pleased at having overcome that stumbling block. She did not think of her time on the tankery team as a failure or a cautionary tale, but valuable in its own way, and if what she learned could help others, it was all the more valuable.

Nozomi sat in her office in Saunders, working on some paperwork, while listening for the phone. As she worked, she heard the last bell of the day, which signaled the end of class. A gray-clad throng of students walked past the office, on their way home or to extracurricular activities. Perhaps among them was Nozomi's younger sister Ako, or some of Ako's old friends from their home town of Achiga.

Nozomi kept a small photo album at her apartment, and two pictures stood out in her memory. One picture depicted her in her Saunders uniform, while Ako was dressed in casual clothing. Another picture showed her wearing business casual clothing to work, while Ako wore a Saunders uniform. That same photo album had many photos of her with her best friend and teammate, Akado Harue, including their childhood in Achiga, their time in middle school, and in Saunders, both when they attended as students and when they worked for the school.

Nozomi had never taken the defeat as hard as Harue had, but she still believed that she was not professional tankery material; to her, the match against Black Forest had shown her the difference between her and true professionals. In spite of that, Nozomi believed that Harue had what it took, and was glad when her long-time friend had rediscovered her love of tankery. Harue may not have had the same background in a tankery school that many of Black Forest's commanders did, but she had talent and passion, and Nozomi believed those traits suited her well as commander and coach.

Nozomi glanced out the window of the office, as some of the students headed toward the tankery garage. Perhaps not all of them would go on to be professional tankers, or go into various occupations that ex-tankers tended to go into, such as the JGSDF, but she hoped they would win the championship, proving their school's strength to everyone else. To Nozomi, tankery was meant to be fun for everyone, not just a sport dominated by the elites, and there was no better way to prove that than by Saunders winning the tournament.

Shortly after Oarai's first victory in the tournament

The Saotome family held a family reunion at Junko's parents' home in Mito, Ibaraki, an event that brought together various branches of the family.

Junko sat with her cousin Chiaki in two chairs side by side on the front porch, talking and watching the setting sun as Junko's parents prepared dinner inside. The two were significantly more casually dressed than the suits they wore as a professor and a chief financial officer, respectively. The two women, highly respected in their fields, had once been the last commander and a caretaker of the Oarai tankery team, but while most would be proud to hold such high positions, Junko and Chiaki regarded themselves as failures.

"Have you heard, Chiaki?" Junko said. "Oarai managed to win the tournament."

"I certainly did, Junko," Chiaki said. "Not only is the tankery community abuzz with this news, but so are the Oarai alumni."

"It's quite impressive what they accomplished," Junko said. "I wouldn't say that it's enough to make me wonder why we had trouble with Black Forest, but they certainly went farther on longer odds."

"Yes, that's true," Chiaki said. "They had many things- the luck to not face Black Forest when most of their team was still completely new, a more committed and skilled group of subordinates, and leaders who were better than we were."

Junko nodded solemnly.

"I always felt out of my element as leader," Junko said, "so I didn't assert too much of my authority over my subordinates, since I didn't believe I was much better than they were. I've come to realize that I need to have a firmer and more confident hand as a leader and teacher, even if that results in my being more distant to them than I was at Oarai."

Chiaki nodded. If Junko were hired as an entry level employee at Chiaki's company, they would have to treat each other as leader and subordinate, if they interacted at all; given the size of the company, it would be quite likely that the two women would not speak face to face. While Chiaki was well respected at work, she had few friends, and so realized the appeal of an organization like Oarai's tankery team.

"Well, that's the kind of place Oarai is," Chiaki said, "so your style of leadership may not have been wrong, Junko. Still,, it's possible that you're not able to lead well that way, so it's good to see that you've found your niche, just as I have."

"Indeed," Junko said. "I would, if possible, like to meet some people from that team someday, to learn what they had that we did not, and impart some of my wisdom upon them, so that they do not suffer the same fate."

Chiaki nodded, and found that a fitting place to drop this subject. Rather than focus on the regrets of the past, Junko was turning to the future, and what she could for Oarai.

"When you put it like that, Junko," Chiaki said, "it really reminds me that being a teacher is your calling."

Junko chuckled softly, yet appreciatively. Chiaki had a point, and she did feel better suited to the position than she was before. Perhaps if her experience as tankery commander taught her what she could not do and how she was not suited to lead, it may not have been a waste of time.

Three years ago

Ami sat with Kikuyo, as the two women had a dinner out on the town. The two women were dressed casually, and were out to celebrate Ami's recent promotion to Captain. Ami had also invited her friend, Kainou Yoshiko, but she had declined, wanting to give Ami appropriate professional distance for a while now that Ami outranked her.

"Congratulations on your promotion, Ami-san," Kikuyo said, "or should I say Captain Chouno?"

Kikuyo then performed a salute, prompting an amused chuckle from Ami.

"That's a good salute, Kikuyo, save for the fact that you're seated," Ami said.

"I'm simply proud of what you've accomplished, and Takako is as well," Kikuyo said.

Ami sighed at the mention of her former friend. Evidently, Kikuyo had intended to give congratulations on Takako's behalf, possibly in the hopes of convincing her and Ami to mend fences, but it did not have the desired effect.

"The fact that I've taught tankery to several of Black Forest's rivals aside," Ami said, "I don't see Takako truly understanding this. She and I had different sets of values since I enlisted in the JGSDF... no, since the very beginning of our time together."

"That's not true, Ami-san," Kikuyo said. "Takako-san is a person who respects people with strong convictions and determination, even those who disagree with her."

Ami shrugged. Kikuyo had not been there for Ami and Takako's argument over Takako's methods of discipline, so Ami found it hard to accept her argument that Takako had much respect for Ami's methods. On the other hand, perhaps Takako, in her anger and while taking umbrage over having her own methods questioned, was more hostile to Ami than she otherwise would have been. Perhaps the problem was that Takako, having been criticized so often and by so many different individuals, took it personally when one of her friends joined in the chorus, and thus was in no mood to hear Ami's well-intentioned criticism.

Unsure of what to say, Ami decided to change the subject to something more pleasant.

"In any case, Kikuyo, I'm sorry I can't do anything like this to celebrate your getting promotions," Ami said. "I don't suppose there's any chance of your getting promoted to head maid?"

Kikuyo laughed and shook her head.

"Not at all, Ami-san," Kikuyo said. "There are other servants, but we all report directly to the mistress."

"I see," Ami said. "Your job is certainly a humbler one than mine, as well as a relatively thankless one. You have lower pay, no subordinates and a less impressive uniform."

Kikuyo paused to consider her response.

"That's true, Ami-san," Kikuyo said. "Perhaps few would seek this out, but there are those who would be content with this life, and happy to serve someone they respect."

"I suppose so," Ami said. "I have a good commanding officer, even if I don't do chores for her. I'm also proud to serve my country. In that sense, I know where you're coming from, and glad you found your own niche."

Kikuyo nodded appreciatively. Most of her friends were different from her in many ways.

As the meal concluded, they got up to leave. Kikuyo offered to pay, as part of a congratulatory gift to Ami.

"Thanks for taking me out tonight, Kikuyo," Ami said. "Oh, and... tell Takako I appreciate hearing her congratulations."

Kikuyo then stood at attention and saluted.

"Yes, ma'am," Kikuyo said.

After they parted ways, Kikuyo placed a call to Takako after returning home.

"Hello, Takako-san," Kikuyo said, "I just got back from dinner with Ami-san."

"I see," Takako said. "Did you send her my congratulations?"

Kikuyo was tempted to say that she wished Takako had done so herself, but she knew that the last time the three of them were together, Ami and Takako had barely said a word to each other, making it an awkward and unpleasant affair. Perhaps it was for the best that Takako had not come, so Ami could properly celebrate.

"I did," Kikuyo said somewhat sadly, "but she seemed to have trouble accepting them, although she did tell me to thank you for her."

"I'm not surprised," Takako said. "She and I always had different values, and different ideas of what constitutes success... as well as how to achieve it."

"The same could be said for me," Kikuyo said. "Ami-san mentioned that my job is significantly less prestigious than hers, but is simply happy that I found my own way."

Takako paused.

"Back when we argued, she mentioned an acquaintance of hers named Inoue," Takako said, "a young woman our age who washed out of the JGSDF and ended up as a service employee at an airport, if memory serves. Apparently, Ami believed it was for the best that Inoue ended up where she did."

"Do you think Inoue-san is wrong to feel that way?" Kikuyo said.

"Maybe not," Takako said, "but I certainly don't think that was an outcome her instructors should have been aiming for. I've seen many students fall through the cracks or flunk out in my time, for a number of reasons. Students are responsible for their own success, but if their teachers don't do everything they can to help, the teachers are partly to blame for those who fail."

Kikuyo remained at a loss for words. As someone who was not a teacher or a leader, she found it difficult to say who was right in this dispute.

"But really, while I don't have much of a connection to the Self-Defense Force, and know it isn't my place to judge them, I do wish Ami the best," Takako said.

Kikuyo recognized the subtle caveat in Takako's words, a veiled insinuation that Ami was presuming to know how to do Takako's job. In spite of that, Kikuyo knew that as long as her two friends cared for each other and wished for their success, the day would come when they could reconcile.

Four years ago

Ami headed to the airport, heading to a tankery conference as a representative of the JGSDF. She packed a bag with the essentials.

As she approached the check-in counter, she noticed an oddly familiar woman, who was wearing the uniform issued to service employees.

The interaction went as expected until Ami provided her name.

"Chouno Ami-sama?" the woman said. "I think I remember you from the JGSDF."

"Cadet Inoue?" Ami said, looking at her name tag, and seeing "Inoue Satsuki

"I'm not a cadet anymore, Chouno-sama," Satsuki said, "or should I say, First Lieutenant Chouno? You've come quite a long way."

"Thank you, Inoue-san," Ami said.

"You always seemed better suited to the JGSDF than I was," Satsuki said. "I definitely wanted to become an officer for a long time, but I don't really think I knew what that entailed. But here, I get to help out people who come in from all over the world and wish them well on their travels."

"I see," Ami said. "I'm still sorry to hear that things ended that way."

"My time there wasn't entirely in vain," Satsuki said as she finished the process of checking Ami in. "I learned a great deal about serving and respecting others."

"That's good to hear," Ami said, as the process ended and she received her boarding passes. "I must be going, but i wish you the best in the future."

"Thank you, ma'am," Satsuki said, performing a perfect military salute, and Ami responded in kind.

As Ami proceeded to the security check-in, she looked around and saw many others from all walks of life. She saw businesspeople wearing suits. She saw families with small children. She saw tourists who looked foreign. She even saw a few fellow JSDF offices, and greeted them with salutes. Some of the women among these myriad and diverse travelers had possibly done tankery in the past, and some of the young girls might do it in the future.

Ami's thoughts went back to Miho, her teacher's daughter, whom she had met during a visit to the Nishizui home. Miho was a Nishizumi by birth, but she hardly seemed suited to their demanding style of tankery, even though she loved tankery itself. Something had to give, and Ami hoped that it would not be Miho's happiness. Either Miho should come to enjoy tankery, or find another path in life, as many other ex-tankers had.

"Life's too short for you to waste it on a pursuit that you hate, and there's too many options for you to let someone else choose yours for you, Miho-san," Ami thought. "In the end, you're the only one who knows how best to lead your life, so I hope you find your answer as soon as you can."

Author's Notes

This is about some of the minor characters who ended up having careers outside of tankery, as touched on in the propaganda filmstrip from Episode 1 of Girls und Panzer. Each of the individuals in question had varying levels of skill in tankery- from skilled individuals who couldn't go professional to those who viewed themselves as failures- and varying reasons for seeing out their career paths.