Author's Note: Before I get into this, I would like to direct your attention to another fanfiction writer by the name of kpmh2001 and his RWBY crossover - The Men From Onyx. It's an exciting tale that is constantly being updated, so I ask that when you go support him and check his story out!

Disclaimer: Both the Kaiserreich Universe and RWBY belong to their respective associations. I only own my characters.

The soldier above all others prays for peace, for it is the soldier who must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.

- General Douglas MacArthur

"Dialogue in other language."

"Writing."

Thoughts.

Alice groaned as she attempted to push herself off the ground to no avail. The pain was too much for her to bear, so all she could do was lay there and watch as her tank continued to burn.

Using all the strength she could, she struggled to reach out to the nearest person she could see.

"Michael…" She weakly said before heavily coughing.

She could hear people speaking around her, taunting her, laughing at her. They had to be the Unionists, her comrades wouldn't just stand around and make fun of her and her crew when they were injured.

"Michael… get up." She said in a slightly louder voice.

One of the Unionist soldiers must have heard her since he knelt beside her and looked to what she was painfully staring at.

"Oh, is that your friend?" The large man asked before going over and slamming his foot onto Michael's chest, causing him to gasp for air.

"...F- fuck… you…" Alice defiantly said as she tried to get up once more. Her attempt was futile as one of the other enemy soldiers kicked her back to the ground.

"Quit messin' around Brad, let's hurry up and kill these fuckers before more of 'em show up." Another soldier, this one female, ordered.

Although the voices slowly became blurry and distant, the sound of a gun going off a few feet away frightened her. Adjusting her head slightly, Alice could see the smoking barrel of a pistol over Michael's body. She tried to cry out but lost her voice to the overwhelming agony caused by the explosion. She knew she was next, but like hell she would go down without a fight.

Pushing the pain aside the best she could, she pushed herself off the ground once more, managing to get a few inches above the ground before being kicked back down again. Alice's fear spiked as the same man who had shot her friend stood over her and aimed his pistol at her.

Alice grit her teeth as she stared back at the man with daggers. "Go to hell…"

The bang of the gun filled her ears as everything went dark.

Rear Pershing Line, Northern Maryland, U.S.A

December 19th, 0728 Local Time, 1943

Gunnery Sergeant Alice Wolff awoke clutching her chest in a cold sweat.

"Another nightmare Sarge?" Corporal Edwards, her tank gunner, asked from a nearby table.

When she eventually got her breathing under control, Alice nodded. "...Yeah, sorry if I woke you guys." She sheepishly replied as she adjusted herself to sit on the edge of the bed.

Edwards waved off her concern before quickly changing the subject. "The others are already in the mess hall getting some breakfast, we should probably join them." He said in a somewhat joking manner.

Alice motioned for him to go. "...Go on ahead, I'll meet you guys there in a few." She instructed. Edwards nodded and gave her a mock salute before leaving the room.

Alice let out a sigh as she slid off the bed and went to retrieve her faded tank commander jacket. Once it was on and zipped up to just above her chest for maximum comfort, she stepped outside into the cold winter day.

As she made her way to the mess hall, she passed a few volunteers from various nations, most of which told her good morning. When she arrived and slipped inside the building, the aroma of fresh coffee hit her instantaneously. Not only that, but the atmosphere seemed to be filled with much higher spirits than before.

Power of a fresh cup of joe, boosts morale more than winning at battle at this point. Alice thought to herself as she went to wait in line for some food and, hopefully, a cup of that glorious godsend of a drink.

Even though such a simple comfort wouldn't help them win the war, it was still refreshing to see her comrades smiling and having some fun.

"Morning Alice, sleep well?" Someone asked as Alice reached the front of the line.

"As well as anyone can at this point Derek." She replied as the chef filled her plate with some biscuits and eggs, as well as a cup of warm coffee.

Derek let out a soft chuckle. "Ain't that true. Anyway there ya go, fresh from Canada herself." He said with a smile.

Alice returned the look and gave the man a nod of appreciation. "You're the best Derek, thanks." She replied before walking away from the line.

"Anytime Alice." Derek replied as he waved her goodbye.

Alice went over and took a seat at the table her crew had situated themselves with, her arrival gaining the round of 'good mornings'. "Morning guys, I miss anything?" She asked as she took a bite of her meal.

"Eh, not really Sarge." One of the men, Lance Corporal Herold, said. "Oh! The Captain came by earlier lookin' for you, said he needed you for something. Kept it pretty vague so none of us really know the details."

Just me? I wonder what, a promotion maybe? "...Got it, thanks for letting me know." Alice replied. The news had the subconscious effect of making her eat her breakfast faster than anticipated. As she ate, the banter between her crewmembers resumed.

It was moments like these that made her happy. Seeing her crew get along was something not all tank commanders had the pleasure of witnessing. Even if there was some friendly rivalry between the crew, and she was looking explicitly at Higgins and Quentin, she wouldn't trade them for the world...

A loud crash caught her off guard and brought her back to reality, her reactionary jump causing her coffee to spill. Alice frowned as the brown liquid left the cup and began covering the table.

After cleaning the mess with some napkins, Alice clenched her fists angrily. Whoever made me lose my coffee is a fucking dead man! She thought before looking around. Her crew looked at each other and outright refused to say or do anything to curve her temper. By now they knew not to fuck with their commander when it came to coffee.

Alice scowled when she eventually found what disrupted her breakfast, that being two soldiers brawling in the middle of the mess hall. Stomping her way through the crowd, she was just about to chew them out before one of them, an older French soldier who must have heard her coming and thought she was someone else, turned and punched her in the jaw before shouting something in French.

If Alice was angry before, then now she was absolutely pissed. First she loses her coffee as well as her peaceful breakfast, but now the same bastard who caused the ruckus had the balls to punch an NCO, let alone a tank commander!

The other fighter, a young Austrian whom she'd forgotten the name of, was doing his best to block the older soldier's strikes. Now enraged, Alice got up and grabbed the Frenchman's shoulder, turned him around, and smashed her fist directly against his cheek before grabbing his hair and kneeing him in the face, sending him to the ground.

Will Alice get in trouble for this? Almost certainly. Does she care right now? Absolutely not.

Alice stood over the dazed man before leaning on a knee and pointing at him. "You fuckin' french fry! You start a fight and disturb the peace, make me spill my coffee, and then have the fucking balls to punch me?! If I were your NCO I would kick your ass so damn hard you'd be sent back across the Atlantic!" Alice exclaimed. Everybody around her kept their distance from the veteran Gunnery Sergeant as nobody in their right mind wished to interfere.

Alice then stood tall and pointed at the Austrian volunteer. "You, come here." She said, her angry tone unwavering. The young man looked as if he had nearly wet himself at the display before carefully walking up to Alice. "Go get the MP's and tell them what happened, now." She ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument.

The Austrian shakily nodded and ran off to do as he was told, a path opening in the crowd for him to pass through. When her adrenaline died down, Alice could feel the spot where she was hit sting. Gritting her teeth, Alice turned and walked through the same path as the Austrian, leaving the Frenchman behind on the floor.

"Edwards." She said, interrupting his conversation when she got back to her table. Even though she was still somewhat angry, she wasn't going to take it out on her friends. "I'm going to check in with the Captain, you're in charge of the misfits while I'm gone." She said somewhat jokingly.

Edwards gave her a lazy salute. "Aye aye Al." He replied before turning to the rest of the crew. "Hear that fellas? Ya gotta do everything I say, so kiss my boot." He said with a less than serious look on his face.

Alice shook her head at her friend's shenanigans, the joke releasing some tension she still had from the quick brawl. When the others began insulting the Corporal, she laughed alongside them before walking off. Even though laughing caused the pain in her cheek to spike, she could care less.

After all, if she was being honest, she'd been through much worse.

Rear Pershing Line, Captain Grayfield's Quarters

December 19th, 0744 Local Time, 1943

Grayfield let out a sigh of relief and he rubbed his forehead as he read the recent newspaper article that one of his subordinates had lent him. On it was a picture of the German flag flying on the roof of the Élysée Palace with cheering soldiers clad in winter uniforms from varying nations.

After all these years, those crazy sonsabitches finally did it. Grayfield thought as he reread the title of the article. "Joint Reichspakt - Entente Victory In Europe! Peace Finally Restored!"

To Grayfield, learning of the collapse of the European Syndicalists was like opening a Christmas present. No other news could even come close in terms of relief to what was laid out before him. With the Communard and the Union defeated, he knew that the civil war would eventually be coming to a close. Soon, with full Entente and German support, they'll finally be able to reclaim the land that was stolen from them.

But that was to come in the future. For now, he still had a war to fight.

"You wanted to see me sir?" A familiar voice said as the door opened leading to his quarters opened, breaking his train of thought. Looking up from the newspaper and saw Alice entering the room with a small ice pack on her cheek.

Deciding to worry about the ice pack later, Grayfield nodded. "Yes Sergeant, come in and have a seat." He replied courteously as he held onto the newspaper, not allowing Alice to see its contents. "Are you aware of the recent news Sergeant?"

Alice looked at him confused. "Uh, I would have to say no, sir. Why? Is there anything I should be concerned about?"

Grayfield shook his head before throwing the newspaper onto his desk. "Take a look at this and tell me what you think." He instructed as he turned it to face her.

Alice grabbed the paper and held it up to get a better view of it. Grayfield watched as her eyes slowly went from curiosity to surprise, and then to happiness. She set the newspaper back on the desk and gave him an enthusiastic look. "Sir, t-this…" She trailed off for a moment at a lack of words, "This is amazing! We're going to win! We're finally going to win!"

She, like most others, had never expected such a day to come, but now, after learning of the victory in Europe, she had a resurgence of hope, hope once lost to the chaos of war.

Grayfield smiled at her before pulling out another document. "That's not all Sergeant. Now that Entente assets can be fully focused over here, New England has finally granted General MacArthur's request to give our remaining forces refuge in their territory." Grayfield said before looking up at Alice, her face full of fresh determination. "In short Alice, we've done our part, so now we're finally getting a break from this damn war."

Alice sat back in her chair to take a moment and let all this new information sink in. This was probably the best news she's heard in the past six years… No, scratch that, her whole fucking life.

"When are we leaving sir?" Alice asked. Her voice was somewhat shaky but full of optimism at the news.

Grayfield shrugged his shoulders. "About a few days from now. General Bradley wants us to slowly start moving all the equipment from the frontlines and have the tanks cover our retreat. That's where you come in. I'm going to be directing our sector away from the front, so I'm putting you in charge of the few tanks we have for the job. I trust you can do it?"

Alice took a moment to think over the plan before looking the Captain in the eye. "Yes sir, you can count on me." She confidently stated .

Grayfield smiled and nodded firmly. "I know I can First Sergeant. Do use proud and make sure we don't get shot in the ass. I'll inform the other NCO's about the plan, in the time being, return to your crew and get them filled in. If nothing else, then dismissed." He instructed.

Alice gave a firm, understanding nod before standing at her full height of five foot eight inches and saluted her CO, who promptly saluted back. Alice opened the door and was about to leave, but not before turning back one last time. "Good luck sir, you'll need it." She said.

Once she stepped outside and let the door close behind her, Grayfield returned to his seat and let out a sigh. Today was going to be a very long day.

Rear Pershing Line, Maintenance Depot

December 19th, 1503 Local Time, 1943

Alice wiped her forehead of grease and sweat after twisting the last bolt back into the turret. On the other side, Edwards was in the process of finishing the turret's fresh paint job while the remaining crew members provided other various maintenance to the Tiger's chassis.

When Alice returned to her unit hours prior, she had informed the news, both Europe and the retreat, as well as her surprise promotion. They had congratulated her with relieved voices and expressions of happiness, but the celebration didn't go on for long. She quickly had them get into giving their German heavy tank a complete makeover and any repairs they were capable of.

A prize in German engineering, the Tiger was renowned for its reliability and impenetrable armor. It's powerful 88mm gun could shred through 120mm of armor from over three kilometers away. Now, after hours of toiling away, they were nearly finished and the tank almost looked good as new. Almost.

As Alice was getting a drink of water from her canteen, Edwards took over for a moment. "Alright, that should be the last of it." Edwards loudly said as he wiped his brow. "How about you guys? Done yet?"

"Yeah, just about. The treads could really use a replacement right about now. If we don't, Herold and I guesstimate about another month or so before we start pushing the limit." Higgins replied.

Before Alice or any of the other crew members could provide their input on the matter, an exhausted and panicked looking man came running up to their tank. Although his uniform was caked in mud and dirt, she could tell he was a Canadian, but more importantly, a runner. And just by his condition alone could she tell something was wrong.

"A- are you First Sergeant Wolff?" He stammered with a worried look. His tense and terrified voice indicated that indeed, something was very wrong.

Alice climbed down from the tank and gave the man her canteen so he could catch his breath. "Yeah, that's me. What's going on?" She hurriedly asked.

Once the soldier had caught his breath, he pointed up the many trench lines towards the front. "I- it's Captain Grayfield ma'am! He just radioed from the front about a heavy Syndicate attack! He's ordered all the tanks up there immediately!"

Shit. Alice thought as she glanced at her crew. "Ok, go get some rest, we'll take it from here." She ordered as she gave him a quick pat on the shoulder. Turning to her crew, she sprung into action. "You all heard the man! The Captain needs us at the front, so let's get going already!" She barked as she climbed up to the turret and descended through the commander's hatch.

Soon, the other tank commander's were informed and began moving towards the front as well, with Alice leading the charge. When they neared the hellish landscape, the crew saw the utter devastation the attack had brought. Unlike before when the defenders would be able to lick their wounds and get back up, this time, there was nobody to do the licking.

Barricades, pillboxes, bunkers, anti - tank guns, nothing was spared from the destruction. Bodies of the wounded or dead covered the trenches as more soldiers rushed forward and joined the bitter defense.

The enemy fared no better, with bodies and destroyed Sherman's littering the battlefield. The only thing keeping them going was the seemingly endless amount of combatants they were willing to utilize to break the line. This would quickly change with the arrival of Alice's tanks.

Alice had her tank stop first and zero in on an enemy tank. Once the gunner gave the clear on the target, Alice gave the order to fire. The Tiger's 88mm gun exploded in a flash of light as the shell flew out of the barrel and slammed directly into the weaker Sherman, resulting in a fireball that shot the turret off the chassis.

Alice repeated the same process with another enemy tank, but with less explosive results. Within seconds, the rest of the company had arrived and began opening fire on more of the enemy Sherman's. Clearly surprised at the sudden appearance of German Tiger's, some of the remaining few dozen enemy tanks began to back away in the hopes of escaping a deadly fate. Others attempted to push forward and continue shooting the Tiger's, but their 75mm guns were no match for the German armor.

The infantry, clearly bolded by the reinforcements, took up position once more and opened fire, although their next move surprised even Alice. She would probably not know who gave the order, but the troops suddenly went over the top of their trenches and charged at the retreating enemy.

Alice shook her head in disbelief, but knew that she had to make a decision fast.

"Herold, push forward! We have to give the infantry some cover or else they're going to be slaughtered out there!" Alice commanded as she opened her hatch and stood up. She knew this was a bad idea, but there was almost no choice, she had to help.

Gripping the .50 caliber Browning Machine Gun that they had used to replace the German MG42, she pushed the trigger forward and unleashed a fresh wave of heavy caliber bullets into the retreating Syndicate army. More explosions rocked the battlefield as more enemy tanks were either destroyed or put out of action.

Alice's company did not come out unscathed either however, as she saw someone shoot one of the tank commanders and throw something, no doubt a grenade, down into the tank. Seconds later, the Tiger exploded in a massive fireball, the grenade more than likely having blown up the ammunition.

Alice quickly and ferociously gunned the rebel down without hesitation or mercy. Once the enemy was riddled with bullets and fell to the ground, Alice refocused her attention to the front. The enemy at this point had taken hundreds, if not thousands of casualties. Although federal forces were not faring much better, they had managed to keep up some form of consistency with the counterattack.

Even though the federalists continued to slowly dwindle in manpower, they did not cease their attack. Rather, as more soldiers seemed to fall, the more determined they appeared to fight. Alice knew what this was, the unspoken, ever growing hatred that each man and woman had been building up over the last six years erupting into a hail of bullets, tanks, and cries of war.

The progress they had made seemed strong. They had the enemy on full retreat, technological superiority, and anger that could put a Russian to shame. That was, at least until an orange flare in the center of the federal offensive line was shot into the air. Alice stopped and looked at the flare's trail for a moment before the horrific reality settled over her.

"EVERYONE, GET THE FUCK DOWN! ARTILLERY!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. Those around who managed to hear her quickly passed on the information before finding cover, whether that be in holes, near destroyed tanks, or simply laying on the ground.

Alice sealed her hatch in what felt like record time. "HEROLD KEEP GOING, GET US OUT OF HERE!" She exclaimed as she braced herself for the soon to be artillery barrage.

No sooner than when she had given the order, one large explosion rocked the ground, then another, and another. Soon enough, the entire battlefield was shaking under the constant fire of Syndicate artillery.

Bastards have us zeroed in! This was a fucking trap and we took it like damn idiots! Alice beratingly thought as her tank shook violently from a rather nearby shell.

"Argh, dammit! Sarge, I don't know if we can make it!" Quentin shouted over the colossal amount of noise. The fear behind his words were prominent, if not consuming.

"Keep us going driver! We can't let ourselves get stuck ou- Shit!" Alice suddenly exclaimed mid sentence. The crew turned back to see what had happened, only to see their worst nightmare come to be.

Their engine was on fire.

"OUT OUT OUT! GET THE HELL OUT!" Edwards shouted at the others.

To Alice and Edwards' dismay, their hatches failed to open with the only conclusion being the artillery must have damaged them. As the smoke within the tank continued to grow, Edwards dragged himself to the front of the tank so as to pull himself out with one of the two remaining hatches.

Alice was not so lucky in her endeavor. As the smoke quickly encased the interior of the tank she began to cough heavily. Her lungs stung as she tried to breath, rendering her unable to move through the confined space.

Sonofabit… Alice's thoughts trailed off as the thickness and amount of smoke caused her to fall unconscious inside the Tiger.

No Man's Land

December 19th, 1523 Local Time, 1943

Edwards stumbled as he ran away from the smoking tank through the artillery, his friends a short distance ahead of him. He knew running through an open field during a barrage was suicidal, they all knew, but they would rather have taken their chances with that over trying to survive a burning tank.

Edwards tripped over some debris that he couldn't focus on, sending him tumbling into a large crater. "Ed, you ok?!" Someone shouted. He turned his head and found that he was not the only one to end up in the crater, but also his crewmates who, by sheer luck, had somehow managed to all find cover, even if they were wounded and bleeding.

"Y- yeah, I'm fine!" He replied back over the artillery. "Have you guys seen Alice?! I didn't see her get out!"

The others shook their heads with worried expressions. "Wait, neither did we!" Higgins exclaimed. The realization hit them in the face like a truck. "Shit, she must still be inside! We have to help her!" He shouted as he pushed himself up.

Quentin grabbed his friend's arm and pulled him back down. "Are you insane?! We can't go back, it's too dangerous!" He reasoned.

Higgins tried to fight him on the matter knowing that he would surely die trying, but ultimately lost. A nearby explosion and fireball came from the same direction as their tank. They all looked at each other and knew what had most likely just happened, but that didn't stop Edwards from peering over the crater even with the threat of the artillery.

Their Tiger was nothing more than a heap of burnt metal and fire. The turret was blown off and the back half of the tank was almost completely destroyed.

To the rest of the crew, Edwards' cry easily drowned the noise of the artillery. "...ALIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICE!"