Hey, author here! Before anything I figured that I should explain the language system that I've started to use here. The various different languages used in dialogue are depicted with different types of brackets, or lack thereof; the absence of any indicates it's Japanese, (these brackets indicate the use English), {these are French} and last but not least, [these are for Russian.]
Special thanks to four people in particular; Rosy and Sharky for allowing me to use their Rosebush characters, Rosy for checking to make sure I got their depictions right, Rihno for helping me out with a few aspects of the rewrite and last but not least, Shadow for his constant support. Thanks guys!
Now let's get this underway, shall we?
One
The M4A3(76)W HVSS, better known as the M4A3E8, was a United States domestic variant of the Medium Tank M4 fielded by the US Army during the Second World War.
Due to its exemplary performance, it continued to serve its home country after the war, notably in the Korean War, until it was replaced by the M48 Patton and M60 in 1957.
Even then, the US redistributed them to her foreign allies, where these tanks continued to see further years of service.
Between 1944 and 1945, a total of 2,617 original "Easy-Eights" were assembled by Chrysler at the Detroit Tank Arsenal.
This is the story of one.
One that had remained missing, tucked away and hidden out of sight.
Until now.
Present Day (2013)
On 7th May 1945, Germany tendered her unconditional surrender to the Allies, and on 15th August of the same year, Imperial Japan signed hers on board the USS Missouri in Tokyo Bay. The deadliest conflict the world had ever seen was thus over, and the combined strength of the Allied Forces, thankfully, had emerged victorious over the tyrannical rule of the Axis Powers.
Decades later, underneath the bright sun, beautiful blue sky and fluffy white clouds, the French countryside remained just as peaceful as ever.
Well, almost peaceful.
What betrayed the natural peace and quiet were, again, the manmade roaring of engines, clattering of tracks, and this time, gunfire.
… Okay, perhaps that's nowhere near being peaceful this time.
But it was all well and good nonetheless, for this was a sensha-do match.
You may wonder: Sensha-do? But this isn't Japan!
Well, yes, you didn't misread it, it is a sensha-do match. The reason why it was taking place this far from home was because this was a part of an overseas promotional campaign, commissioned by the Japanese Sensha-do Federation to raise interest in the sport outside of Japan, probably as a prelude to bigger plans in future. And what better way to do it than organize a match overseas and have it covered by the local media?
The news of an overseas match had spread like wildfire amongst the Japanese schools when it was announced and many of them immediately signed up, but as there were only four slots available everything was left to a ballot to decide. And once the registration deadline was reached, that was exactly what happened, and shortly after that the four lucky schoolships set off for France.
Which leads us to the match unfolding in the present. An IS-2 and three T-34s roared across the French countryside, firing back at a squad of Crusaders approaching them hot on their tails. A small triangular grey flag-like sign was propped up high on a pole on the Soviet heavy, standing out amongst the medium tanks as they charged ahead.
"Nonna!" Katyusha yelled through the radio at the IS-2. "I told you to stop them!"
"I'm working on it, Katyusha-sama," was the calm reply from the bigger girl. "[Klara, help me draw fire away from Katyusha-sama!]"
"[Understood!]" was the Russian reply from the Russian girl as she ordered something to her gunner, and a moment later the T-34/85 aimed and opened fire on the lead Crusader.
"Aieeee!" Rosehip yelled as the Soviet shell bounced off the roof of her Crusader's turret. "I'll get them, damn it! Fire at that T-34! Second from the left!"
"Got it!" Rosemary acknowledged, the gunner swinging the gun towards the particular Russian medium before opening fire.
The 57 mm 6-Pounder shell missed, kicking dirt up beside the T-34.
"Rosehip, please don't be reckless," a calm voice came from the Crusader's radio. "Remember, we've still got a plan to carry out."
"Got it, Darjeeling-sama!" was the happy response from the redhead. "We're right on track! No problems so far!"
Meanwhile, back with the Pravda tanks, the short commander was getting more annoyed and impatient, especially as her platoon approached the area at the foot of the hill her platoon was supposed to stop at, with no sign of the backup that she was promised. "I see nobody! Where's that damn Yankee?!"
"I can hear you, you know!" the blonde "Yankee" in question replied cheerfully through the radio. "Getting anxious, are we?"
"Kay, cut the crap and ambush them already!"
"Not yet, just a bit more!" the blonde Saunders commander replied just as happily, not minding the rudeness from Katyusha at all. "I can see you, ya know," she added on, looking at the Russian and British tanks from her M4, parked behind some bushes along the sides of the open "corridor".
"Kay, are we in position yet?" Nonna asked calmly.
"Almost! You guys can turn around in about 15 seconds."
"Roger."
The Russian tanks entered the agreed-upon area, just as planned.
"All tanks," the blonde Saunders commander instructed, "start your engines. The next phase of Operation Hamburger is about to begin!"
As the Pravda platoon braked and turned around to face the incoming Crusaders, the British cruiser tanks pressed on, eager to go in on their kills, blissfully unaware of the ambush prepared for them.
And just as planned, they blindly charged in.
"Okay, now!" the blonde Saunders commander gave the signal, grinning from ear to ear.
Immediately, the five Shermans hiding on both sides of the "corridor" opened fire as their engines were simultaneously being started by their drivers.
"What the-" Rosehip gasped as a 75 mm shell landed just in front of her tank while the Crusader besides hers was hit square on the left, immediately screeching to a halt as a small white flag popped out of its turret.
"We've got 'em now!" Alisa grinned confidently as her M4A1(76)W rolled out of hiding, the barrel of the gun smoking. "Four versus nine! There's no way they're getting outta this one!"
As the Crusaders tried surrounding the Russian tanks in what seemed like a ditch attempt to take out the IS-2 before it was too late, the Shermans continued to drop lead on the opponent tanks as Pravda's tanks joined in the engagement, another Crusader soon being taken out.
"Dammit!" Rosehip cursed as the British cruiser tank maneuvered evasively.
"When are they gonna come?!" Roselle, her driver, yelled. "We can't keep this up much longer!"
At that moment, Alisa's M4A1 barreled in front of the Rosebush Crusader, forcing the British tank to abruptly slam its brakes on.
The 76 mm M1 pointed straight at the British tank, dead center.
"Ohhhh, shit!" the Rosebush driver yelled as she slammed on the brakes, the tank still in motion and about to run into the barrel of the 76 mm M1 gun pointed straight at them.
But before the Sherman could do anything, something hit it from behind.
The tank went silent, and a few seconds later a white flag popped out of its turret.
"YES!" the hyperactive redheaded commander punched the roof of her turret as her tank stopped just a few centimeters away from the M4's muzzle. "They're here!"
"WHAT?!" the pigtailed Saunders vice-commander shouted in shock, immediately looking behind to see what had happened.
On top of the hill was the tank responsible for the shot.
A Porsche Tiger.
And coming over the peak of the hill was none other than the forces of Ooarai!
"Let's get close and break them up!" Nishizumi Miho rallied as the tanks advanced down the hill. "Fire!"
The collective volley of shells mostly landed around the Saunders-Pravda tanks, but some of them managed to hit targets to varying degrees of success. A Sherman was one of the unlucky ones to be hit on the side, immediately being knocked out.
"(What?!)" Kay yelled, having been caught off-guard. "They're on the hill! Fall back! Now!"
"Crap!" Katyusha reacted, just as shocked. "Nonna, turn around!"
"Oh, no, you don't," Roselle beamed as she dove the Crusader into the Pravda platoon, rammed the IS-2 from the front and continued to dig in, preventing it from traversing to face the incoming cavalry. The Soviet heavy turned its turret in an attempt to aim at the British tank, but the length of its gun barrel prevented that from happening. The confusion and resulting chaos around meant that none of the operational tanks were even aware that their flag tank was in jeopardy.
Well, none except one.
"Take us behind Nonna!" the Pravda commander yelled to her driver. "Protect the flag tank at all costs!"
The T-34/85 charged ahead, desperately attempting to shield the exposed rear of the Soviet heavy…
… until a shell struck the right side of the hull out of nowhere, forcing the Russian medium to come to an abrupt halt before it could complete its goals, the white flag popping out a second later.
"Well done, Rosehip," Darjeeling praised on the radio from her Churchill Mk VII, the smoking barrel of the QF 75 mm hinting at the fact that the tank had been responsible for taking Katyusha out in the nick of time. The British heavy, the designated flag tank of the team, had pulled up and stopped beside Team Leopon's Tiger, and currently surrounding the two tanks were the usual four Matildas that usually followed the team commander's tank around. "And the same goes for your crew as well. You've done well in baiting our opponents into our trap."
"Really?! Wow, thank you! Guys, did you hear that?! Darjeeling-sama praised us! Darjeeling-sama praised us!"
"Please, just focus on keeping Nonna busy for now," the St Gloriana commander chuckled as she heard the cheers of the Rosebush through her receiver. "Now, Matildas," she continued, "I can manage myself up here. You may now go join Ooarai with their fun."
"Roger that!" Rukuriri's voice rang confidently through the radio, followed by the relatively timid "Y-yes!" from Nilgiri as the Matildas advanced.
A moment later, however, a shot was fired from the Porsche Tiger.
"Alas, it seems like that was unnecessary," Darjeeling observed as she watched the 88-milimeter shell land straight on the rear of the IS-2.
"BULLSEYE!" Hoshino grinned as she saw the white flag pop out of the Russian heavy.
"We got 'em!" Nakajima cheered alongside the rest of her crew. "Good job, everyone!"
"Team B's flag tank has been disabled!" the judge of the match announced through the radio a few seconds later. "Team A is victorious!"
Cheers erupted from the victorious tanks as the fighting stopped, the match having drawn to a close.
"We did it!" Azusa smiled happily as the rest of her crew celebrated. "Good job, everyone!"
"That first ambush was flawless!" Aya commented excitedly. "Our double front-rear attack was perfect!"
"You were spot-on!" Ayumi replied happily. "You took the rear Sherman out with just one shot!"
"You got the first one right on as well! We both nailed it!"
"Yeah!" the 75 mm gunner grinned as she high-fived the 37 mm gunner.
"Good work, you guys!" Miho's voice came through the radio. "Please stay around until Instructor Chono tells us what to do. You guys can stop around at the bottom of the hill and talk to each other, we've probably got some time."
Various messages of acknowledgement came through the radio.
"Roger that!" Azusa dropped in hers.
"We couldn't have done it without you leading us though, Commander," Karina commented.
"Yeah! You were the one that came up with that plan after all!" Ayumi grinned.
"Well, you guys played just as big a part!" the commander blushed. "As they say, a tank is only as good as its crew!"
"Yeah!" was the collective response from Rabbit Team.
As the various tanks stopped around each other, the girls hopping out to interact with one another, Rosehip's Crusader skidded to a halt besides Darjeeling's Churchill.
The commander's hatch flew open. "Darjeeling-samaaaaaa!" Rosehip yelled as she popped out. "We did it! We won!"
"Indeed we have, Rosehip," was the cool reply from the St Gloriana team commander. "You and your crew did excellent today."
"Ahh, thank you! Hey, Darjeeling-sama praised us again! She praised us agaaaain~!"
Darjeeling chuckled as she heard the cheers of happiness coming from the inside of the British cruiser tank. "Well, I think you should stay around for a while as we wait for further instructions. Perhaps Rukuriri could use some company?"
"Oh, right! I'll get to it!"
And with that, the Crusader launched ahead, off to look for the Matilda in question.
"She's an energetic one, isn't she?" the St Gloriana team commander mused. "It is very refreshing to see some high-energy action around, don't you agree?"
"It has its own fair share of problems nonetheless," Orange Pekoe commented as she dusted her hands. "We need to reduce the amount of sugar she has access to."
"I've got no idea where she keeps finding more..." Assam sighed.
"A mystery we'll solve eventually. Well," the St Gloriana team commander smiled, "we better get going. Let's not keep them waiting, shall we?"
Climbing out of her hatch, Darjeeling gracefully climbed her way down her British heavy, and flanked by her vice-commanders, walked towards both Katyusha and Nonna, the former sitting on the latter's shoulders. Besides them, Klara stood silently, waiting patiently.
The St Gloriana team commander opened her mouth and was about to say her greetings, but was a little surprised when the Pravda commander spoke first. "Congratulations, Darjeeling! That final attack was clever! I didn't think you guys could get into that kind of position that quickly!"
"Thank you, Katyusha," Darjeeling smiled as the two team commanders shook hands. "It wasn't easy for us St Gloriana girls to move around, of course" she continued, "but we managed to accomplish it nonetheless."
"Yes, that's true, British tanks after all," Katyusha nodded. "But you guys pulled it off, and that's what matters. But be warned; next time, Pravda will prevail!"
"Indeed, Katyusha-sama," Nonna agreed. "We shall come back more powerful than before."
"We won't make the same mistakes twice," Klara continued. "But nonetheless, thank you for the match," she bowed, along with Katyusha. Nonna, of course, stood still.
Gracefully, the St Gloriana girls returned their bows.
"It was our pleasure," Assam smiled politely.
"It was enjoyable for us as well," Orange Pekoe continued.
"Hello, thanks for the match!" Miho smiled sweetly as she walked up to the St Gloriana and Pravda girls. "That was really fun!"
"A pleasure, Miho!" the Pravda commander beamed. "Your team did splendidly today! As expected from the championship winner!"
"Eheh, we did what we could," the Ooarai commander blushed. "St Gloriana did the heavylifting, after all."
"Now, now, you give us too much credit," Darjeeling chuckled. "Have you heard of this saying?" she began her signature knack of quoting, earning an unnoticed, exasperated sigh from Pekoe. "'Coming together is a beginning. Keeping together is progress. Working together is success.' We all did splendidly; as a result, we won."
"Indeed! Wise as always, Darjeeling!" a voice came from behind Miho.
Recognizing the familiar voice, the young Nishizumi turned around. "Ah, President!"
"Well, soon-to-be-ex-President!" Anzu chuckled with a packet of dried sweet potatoes in her hand, flanked on both sides by Momo and Yuzu. "Still, we all did well. That was one hell of a fun match!"
"Indeed!" Katyusha concurred. "We all know that and some more though, so let's not be broken records, shall we?"
"Heheh, fair point!" the twintailed Ooarai Student Council president grinned. "Waddya say, Momo?"
"Well, I agree of course!" the PR manager of the Council nodded confidently. "Everyone's performance was flawless!"
"You say that, but you still missed…" Yuzu quietly teased.
The single-eyed-bespectacled girl's face flushed red at the comment. "I-I tried my best!" she yelled back in protest. "It's not MY fault the Sherman decided to turn!"
"Now, while that's going on," Anzu snickered as her vice-president further teased her PR manager, "aren't we missing someone?"
"(Yahoo!)" the familiar voice of a boisterous blondie broke out, the source walking straight up to the group. "That was awesome! (Nice fight!)" Kay grinned as she lunged ahead and gave Darjeeling a hug.
"Y-yes it… C-can't… breathe… Kay..." the St Gloriana team commander choked out as Assam and Orange Pekoe looked on in concern.
"(Oh, whoops!) Sorry!" the Saunders team commander noticed, releasing Darj from her vice hug. "Well, of course, nice job from all of you!"
Various nods and thanks came from the other girls.
"You had us in the first half, not gonna lie," Anzu commented. "Those were some bold moves from you, attacking us like that!"
"Eheh, thanks!" Kay beamed. "But it wasn't my idea, actually. Rather, it was Alisa that came up with the idea to wildly attack your main forces to draw attention away from the flanks."
"It was a risky move, to be honest," the pigtailed Saunders vice-commander in question commented rather proudly as she walked up beside Kay. "It required some unanticipated preparations to make sure you guys took the bait and we can still get out alive, but it sorta worked out in the end."
"Yeah, the T-34s managed to do quite some damage in the meantime!" Katyusha beamed. "Unfortunately, of course, we didn't get to take out the Churchill."
"Decoy attacks like that will not work against us," Darjeeling replied confidently and proudly. "We managed to see through your deception and repelled your forces successfully. Have you girls heard of this saying?" the St Gloriana commander began to quote again. "'If everyone is moving forward together, then success takes care of itself.' With St Gloriana, coordination is efficient and swift. And that is how we stand up against our opponents."
"Well that's one way of doing stuff!" Kay beamed.
"Of course, it isn't the only way to do things properly. Saunders' doctrine, for example, is vastly different from ours, and I think they conducted themselves splendidly," Darjeeling smiled politely.
"Aww, Darj, you're making me blush!" the Saunders team commander beamed as she hugged her St Gloriana counterpart, the latter trying her best not to spill her tea.
"K-Kay… Too…"
"(Oh, whoops!)" the boisterous blondie immediately released her vice grip. "I've done it again, eheh…"
"Y-yes, you've got quite the grip…" Darj muttered, catching her breath. "Anyway, back to the topic at hand, honestly, I envy how independent you and your girls are at times. Makes for a very diverse team, and just like a potluck everyone's contribution adds up to something good."
"Hey, what can I say?" Kay grinned. "It's in us!"
As the conversation between the commanders went on, the Ooarai Student Council had quietly slipped away to their school's Panzer IV, now conversing with Miho's crew.
"Aw, it felt like it was only yesterday…" Anzu sighed. "Now you three are going to be our successors. Too soon, I say, too soon!"
"Well, you know what they say: time passes quickly when you're having fun!" Yukari replied cheerfully.
"We won't let you three down," Hana smiled. "That's a promise."
"Yeah! We'll make sure we'll do a darn good job!" Saori beamed.
"Glad to hear!" the current President chuckled. "Well, what do you think about today? Everything's fun for all of you?"
"Of course!" Hana nodded. "I still can't believe we're actually in France…"
"Hell, we got really lucky with that lottery, haven't we?" Saori commented. "I can't wait to see what the boys here look like! Hey, maybe I'll get my chance here! Will I? Hey, Yuzu, what do you think?"
"E-eh? Well, all I know is that you've not changed a bit," the Vice-President sweatdropped a little. "Always with the boys, huh?"
"Of course!" Saori nodded passionately. "I won't stop until I find a boyfriend!"
"R-right…"
"Yeah, and while Saori does that, I can't wait to go check out the local florists," Hana smiled. "I can't wait to see the local breeds of flowers, and maybe I'll buy some and bring them back home."
"That'll be lovely!" Anzu smiled encouragingly. "And you, Yukari? Anything special you wanna do here?"
"Actually, yeah!" the tank nut's eye's lit up. "There's a historical site nearby, and, well, I just have to go take a look!"
"Ooh, there is?"
"Yeah! It's usually off the radar, but nothing a little research can't uncover!"
"Sounds interesting," the President nodded, intrigued.
"On the topic of Shermans, though…" Hana gently interrupted, looking at a certain blondie in the distance playing with another blondie in a red uniform, "I wonder why Saunders only ever fields Shermans out."
"Yeah, that's a good question," Saori nodded. "I get that logistically it's much easier, but the Shermans are pretty meh, aren't they?"
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Yukari commented. "Contrary to popular belief the Shermans are actually amongst the best tanks of World War 2."
"Really?" Saori puzzled curiously.
"Yeah! You've got a tank that's very well-rounded in combat, easy to use, easy to service and actually have stuff that other tanks don't have."
"Seriously?"
"Yep!" the tank nut beamed, about to dump her vast knowledge on the Anglerfish radio operator. "For example, did you know that most of the domestic Shermans have vertical gun gyrostabilizers?"
"A gyrostabilizer… Wait, the Sherman has a gun stabilizer?"
"Yes, and during a period where gun stabilizers aren't a thing yet! It's actually effective as well, up to about 24 kilometers an hour, and this actually allows the tank to fire on the move."
"That's impressive," Hana commented. "This is the first I've heard of this as well."
"That's not all," Yukari continued. "The later variants of the tank have wet ammunition racks, something that wasn't a thing back then. Really brought the crew survivability even further up than before! Also, the tank has an auxiliary petrol power generator in case the engine dies. Then we move on to the others, like good visibility for the commander, a close-range periscope sight for the gunner, redundant electrical circuits in case something got damaged and other factors, all of which add up to contribute to the performance of the tank."
"Huh, not bad," Anzu nodded. "Well, didn't stop us from kicking their asses back in the Tournament!" she grinned.
"Hey, we outsmarted them fair and square!" Yukari chuckled. "Still, yeah, the Sherman isn't a bad tank at all. The only thing I'm confused about is why they don't have the top Sherman models around. Like, for example, the M4A3s with their Ford GAAs, and the best of these A3s is the Eas-"
"Attention all students!" the radio of the Panzer IV crackled to life. "This is Instructor Chono! Good job, very nice, that was a job well done from all of you! You guys can come back to the camp now, we're gonna debrief you all and then let you guys do your own things until dinner! For those whose tanks are knocked out, no worries, we'll recover them all for you before you guys start eating! It's a promise! Chono out!"
"Well, that's our cue," Anzu commented as the current Student Council began to head back to their Hetzer. "See you guys back at the camp!"
"Yeah," Hana waved as the three Anglerfish girls climbed back into their tank, Saori woke up the sleeping Mako after she sat down. Meanwhile, everyone else was leaving as well; those tanks that were still running, the Rosebush Crusader for example, had already sped off into the distance, while the crews of the disabled tanks were climbing onboard the operational tanks of their teammates. Alisa was the last of her crew to climb onto Kay's M4 after making sure her girls had gotten on board, and a few moments later the Sherman was off.
"Well," Miho smiled as she slipped into the commander's seat, "it's time we get underway ourselves. Mako, just take us on a relaxing cruise back, please."
Out of the blue, the grumble of an empty stomach echoed around the Panzer 4.
Everyone turned to look at the source.
Hana smiled sheepishly. "Well, yeah, all the work has made us hungry, hasn't it…"
Meanwhile, in a modest local French secondary school of a town just a few kilometers away from the match area, the atmosphere was still abuzz with enthusiasm and excitement. With the popularity of the exhibition match abuzz throughout the nation and especially in the town, the school had decided that it would be educationally beneficial for the students to watch the live stream of the match taking place near them, and hoped that this exercise would spark a cultural interest in Japan across the student population.
Well, they were right; they've certainly gotten everyone talking.
"{That was so cool!}" a girl squealed to her friends in her classroom amongst other sensha-do related conversations around. "{Tanks fighting each other! Who would've thought that's an actual sport?}"
"{The Japanese are all crazy,}" another girl commented. "{I wonder what the safety track record looks like for this 'sensha-do' thing…}"
"{We'll, you'll like to know that sensha-do is also known as tankery outside of Japan,}" a third girl chimed in, wearing a pair of circular spectacles. "{The rules are similar if not the same throughout the different countries, and the United States in particular has a keen interest in it as well.}"
"{That's cool!}" the first girl beamed, wide-eyed.
"{And statistically speaking, the sport enjoys a high safety rating on the global scale, no more dangerous than any other sport such as football, basketball or the like.}"
"{Really?}" the second girl puzzled. "{How'd they do it?"}"
"{Well, primarily the modifications done to the tanks, keeps the girls in absolutely no danger at all,}" the bespectacled girl explained, pushing her glasses up. "{These modifications have to pass a strict set of standards, of course. Then there's the aspect of only approved ammunition rounds to be used, preventing the usage of modified or custom or externally-sourced ammunition entirely; not only does it ensure that each round is safe to the highest standards, it also stops people from gaining an unfair advantage in the form of period-incorrect rounds. All these measures have actually been around since the very beginning, and over the decades further refinements were made.}"
"{I see. Been reading up much?}"
"{Well, you can say that…}" the bespectacled girl smiled sheepishly.
"{Of course, it's Carole after all!}" the first girl laughed, slapping the aforementioned girl on the back.
"{Ow! Irene, that hurt…}"
"{Oh, whoops!"} Irene apologized. "{Still, yep, you're the nerd 'round here!"}
"{Yeah, and you're the polar opposite...}" the second girl hissed.
"{Oh come on Laure, school's boring!}" the bashful girl replied nonchalantly. "{Even you have to admit that!}"
"{That doesn't mean you get to skip classes…}"
"{Well, back on topic, we did actually have tankery once here in Europe decades back,}" Carole continued. "{In fact, that camp those Japanese girls are in is basically what's left of our local team back in the day.}"
"{Really?!}" "{Seriously? Well, why did we stop?}"
"{Well, that I've… not been able to confirm actually,}" the bespectacled girl scratched her face, somewhat apologetic. "{But from what I heard, there was an accident, and then things went downhill for tankery in the EU.}"
"{Hm, must be a pretty serious incident then,}" Laure commented. "{The safety features can't do all after all, huh.}"
"{Of course not. Well, what do you think, Louise?}"
Upon hearing her name, the fourth girl of the group jumped a little, having wandered off into her thoughts for a while. "{W-what is it?"}"
"{Daydreaming again, huh… I was asking what you think about safety measures beyond tank modifications, what do you think about them?}"
"{Well, um…}" the girl stammered a little, gathering her thoughts, "{I-I think the best way to describe it is to not be stupid, I guess. I mean, the carbon coating and modern fire-extinguishing equipment are essential aspects, but beyond that it really is up to the common sense of the participants, and so far it seems like everyone involved has common sense. I'm talking about not doing stuff like getting out of the tank in the middle of a firefight, jumping in front of a moving tank or something like that. As long as you're not asking for it you've got an extremely low chance of getting injured… i-is what I think.}"
"{Ooh, a thoughtful answer,}" Carole nodded in approval. "{Yeah, it makes sense, if you're dumb you won't last very long.}"
"{Speaking of which, you missed their arrival a few days back,}" Irene commented. "{They passed by our school, you know! You should've seen them in person, it was amazing!}"
"{Yeah.}"
"{Why weren't you around, though?}" Laure asked. "{You were gone for like a month! The teachers said it was some family matters.}"
"{Y-yeah, it was family matters…}" the ponytailed brown-haired girl nodded, her tone taking on a slightly depressed hint. "{But I was following everything nonetheless, so I didn't miss out,}" she quickly continued, shrugging something aside.
"{Ah, alright then. You sure everything's okay?}"
"{U-uh, yeah, I'm fine,}" she put on a smile. "{No need to worry about me.}"
Just at that moment, the bell rang.
"{Ah, here we go again,}" Irene sighed as the three girls got up. "{Let's get back to our seats.}"
"{Hey, Louise, if there's anything, do tell me,}" Carole smiled, petting the other girl on the shoulder.
"{I will. Thanks.}"
As her friends moved away, Louise put her head on the desk.
No, not everything was fine.
But talking about that would be far too risky. Even to her friends.
Even as school ended, even as Louise bade her friends goodbye, even after she boarded the bus home, worry was still paramount in her mind.
Having found a seat next to a window, she rested her head against her hand, watching the familiar scenery of her hometown as the bus drove on.
On the surface, Louise seemed like any other sweet, unassuming 15-year-old girl, albeit a short one at a height of 150 centimeters; well, 16 this year, since her birthday falls late on December 22. An avid daydreamer, average performer in school and seemingly not possessing any special interests in particular, the girl does not really stand out amongst her peers, and everyone around her saw her as decent but average, good but not better. The only unusual thing about her was her last name, which, with it not being French, never failed to attract the attention of others. At least, that was as far as they all could see.
Unbeknownst to most, however, that facade of an ordinary teenager, unassuming and aimlessly lacking any interests, was exactly that: a facade. A facade that covered up a bright and energetic girl with a deep passion for tanks, tankery and history, particularly that of the Second World War. A facade she never let slip to anyone outside her family, though; genuine shyness and an overwhelming fear of being considered "weird" or "strange" had consistently stopped her from striking up a conversation unless she was prompted. But if one were to provide an opportunity for her to share her enthusiasm, the depths of her passions would quickly be made apparent as she reveals her well-endowed, detailed knowledge of a wide variety of different tanks, her tactical, strategic and analytical sense of any given battle or match, and a very respectable knowledge and understanding of history. Of course, she had her favorites, being more familiar and well-versed in the details of certain tanks, strategies, tactics and specific historical events than others.
And she had already been very interested in these since a very young age. Unknown to her three friends, she had turned up as part of the massive crowd that showed up a few days ago to welcome the Japanese sensha-do players, and if Irene, Laure, and Carole had been next to her, they would have seen the "uncharacteristically" big smile plastered on her face as she gazed at the tanks roaring past, eyes wide and brightly lit in wonder and excitement. What the three of them were unaware of was that Louise's daydreaming during their conversation after the sensha-do match earlier that day was all about that match, the girl thinking about everything about it. And I do mean everything, from the tanks to their crews' skills, to the field, to each of the two teams' plans, to their executions, to their Plan Bs and the like, all of it was running through Louise's head as she quietly sat at the side, not saying anything until Carole interrupted her thoughts.
Granted, tanks and everything related to them weren't the only things on her mind; she had other interests as well, such as cars, driving and motorsports. But those had always been a secondary priority to her, even if she cherished them just as much as her tank-related passions. And of course, it goes without saying that she aspired to become a tanker in tankery someday, and she had been actively working towards that dream as much as she could. Though, with tankery having been outlawed in the EU more than two decades ago, this was obviously a challenging path for her, with all her possible opportunities hailing from overseas. But she was determined that she'll get there; no, she was not about to let that stop her at all.
Because she was a Tuckerman.
An only child, Louise Carolyn Tuckerman was only four when her single mother tragically died in a car accident. Since then, the rest of her family consisted of just her grandfather and uncle, and together the father-and-son pair did a great job at raising and taking care of the girl, along with the Japanese caretaker they hired just for a few years following Selena's death. Louise had no idea who her father was; there was absolutely no information provided to her by both her grandfather and uncle on the very few times she asked, both never divulging anything on the basis that the young Tuckerman did not need to know about issues that had taken place long in the past. And while that did not satisfy her curiosity, the girl understood that it really didn't matter whether she knew about her father; as far as she was concerned, she never had one. Of course, as evidenced by her current self, her family was nonetheless healthy and wholesome despite everything that had happened, and Louise was eternally grateful for that.
And the fondness the young Tuckerman had with tanks and everything related to them was an inheritance from the family as well. The affiliation the Tuckerman name had with tanks began during the Second World War, with Louise's grandfather being an ex-tanker of the US Army that fought in Europe and rose to become the commander of his own tank. Many decades down the road, a very young Louise would listen in wide wonder and excitement as her grandfather recounted his wartime service, from the shores of Normandy as a gunner to that fateful final fight as a tank commander. The injuries he sustained on that one day did put him out of action for the rest of the global conflict, though, and shortly after its conclusion on September 2 1945 he was finally given an honorable discharge for medical reasons. Despite having returned to his home in the US, he soon found himself drawn back to France for various reasons, a particular one over the others. One thing led to another, and eventually he became an American-French dual citizen and settled into his new home, eventually marrying and becoming the parent of two beloved kids.
Louise's grandfather was not the only member of the Tuckerman family involved in tanks, however; his daughter Selena, Louise's mother, had followed in her father's footsteps in a certain way and joined her school's tankery club when she was fifteen, back when tankery was still a thing in Europe. It was then quickly observed that apparently tanks ran through the veins of any Tuckerman member, because Selena was one hell of a tanker as well, and in a bit of a mirror to her father, quickly rose to become a tank commander, and over the years, helped her teams win matches on the inter-school level. Upon graduating from her lycee, she was handpicked and accepted into a professional team, and for a very brief moment she was officially a professional tanker. However, fate had decided to play a cruel joke on her, and before she could even participate in anything the incident happened and tankery was consequently first suspended, then quickly and abruptly outlawed by the EU, putting a massive and permanent stop to her plans and aspirations. It sucked big time for her, but she was strong and eventually pulled herself together just fine.
Her brother, David, was unfortunately ineligible for anything about being a tanker that was short of the military, much to his annoyance and his father's and sister's amusement. That doesn't mean he was not into tanks, however; he managed to get into tankery on the technical side, as a mechanic for the team of the secondary school both Tuckerman siblings went to. Furthermore, he had provided a few simple but insightful suggestions and ideas to his sister regarding strategies and tactics, and on at least one occasion one of these actually won their school an important match.
Gramps was a tanker. Mom was a tanker. Even Uncle David was involved with tanks.
Louise had to be a tanker as well, and personally, she will not settle at anything short of being a tank commander.
But in lieu of recent events, her tankery goals had to be temporarily put on the side for a short while.
Just a month ago, at the age of 89, Joshua Benjamin Tuckerman died peacefully in his bed from old age, surrounded by his family and friends.
Everyone saw that coming, but that didn't make the impact any less painful for Louise, and for the following days after her eyes were practically never dry. Her Gramps was gone.
Following the Tuckerman tradition set by, tragically, his deceased wife all those years back, Josh was flown back to the US and buried in the graveyard of the Tuckerman family's American hometown, alongside other family members, notably both his wife and daughter. As a WW2 veteran of the US Army, he was sent off with military honors, his various decorations all depicted on his tombstone, one of which was his Purple Heart, presented to him for his valiant actions against an enemy of the United States on August 24, 1944. Of course, Louise and David were there for everything, along with the American side of the Tuckerman family. The two of them stayed in the US for a few more days to be with the rest of the family before returning to France, touching down just two weeks ago.
Losing her grandfather was heartbreaking, but that was not the aspect of the whole situation that was the cause for her worry.
Noticing that she had arrived at her stop, the young Tuckerman quickly got off the bus and walked towards her home.
No, that point of worry was something else. And she had spent the past two weeks fretting on it, still unsure of what to do.
As her front door came into view, she noticed that Uncle David was there, talking to two police officers.
Why were there cops on her front porch?
"(Hey Uncle,)" the girl greeted in English as she walked up. "{Hello officers,}" she greeted the two other men, switching back to French. "{How may we be of assistance?}"
"{Well, good evening to you, Miss,}" one greeted back politely. "{We regret to inform you that a report has been lodged against the residents of this house, and the charges are severe enough for us to warrant a search of your premises.}"
"{Here's the search warrant itself,}" the other officer continued, bringing up the piece of paper for the girl to see. "{Charges of illegal firearm possession, as you can see.}"
The young Tuckerman took a closer look and read it. It was genuine.
The problem had just escalated a lot sooner than she had anticipated.
She had some idea of who had reported her and David; namely, as she would personally put it, "the bitch next door". She knew that that unreasonable woman would be a problem eventually, but just a month after her Gramps died? Isn't that a "bit" too soon?
"{Well, surely there has been some mistake,}" Louise commented. "{We've never bought any rifles, we don't even have rifles. Are you sure you've got the right people?}"
"{What she said,}" David concurred, folding his arms.
That wasn't technically a lie either; they really don't have any rifles.
"{Sorry, but search warrants are search warrants,}" was the polite yet firm reply from the cop with the warrant in his hand. "{We will need you to allow us to enter.}"
The niece and uncle looked at each other, unsure of what to do. On one hand, letting the officers in is an almost-certain guarantee that they will find her, and when they do it would really be all over. On the other hand, resisting law enforcement would give themselves much more trouble, part of which was certainly a prompt arrest before anything was even done and much more serious repercussions and charges being pressed against them after.
The both of them coming to a reluctant agreement, David sighed. "{Please come in.}"
"{Thank you.}"
With the two officers through the door, the one with the search warrant immediately made a beeline towards the door to the basement of the house. The other one stayed with David and Louise as the both of them entered, probably to make sure they were not going to try anything funny.
By the time Louise put her bag down at the side, the officer holding the warrant had long already opened the door and had progressed quite a lot down the dimly-lit stairs.
"(They had this all planned out,)" the young girl commented to her uncle as she watched on worriedly, the inevitable now about to happen. "(They knew coming in.)"
"(I swear,)" David gritted through his teeth, "(when I see that woman I'm going to actually kill that bit-)"
He was interrupted mid-sentence by the spontaneous French cursing coming from downstairs. Evidently, that officer had found the switch for the basement lights and turned them on.
"{What is it?!}" the officer with Louise and David walked over to the door and shouted down the stairs. "{Found anything down there?!}"
"{'Found anything'?!}" was the incredulous reply that was hollered back up. "{There's a fucking tank in here!}"