Chapter VIII: March to War

'Si vis pacem, para bellum.'

Vegetius Renatus, Epitoma Rei Militaris

Hauptmann Gerhard Koln

South of Evacuation Route

3rd May 1945

1302 hours

'Wonder if this is how the panzergrenadiers felt back in '42.'

The hauptmann hummed a few bars from the Panzerlied as he searched his thoughts, watching the countryside go by. The Tiger was currently rolling down a reasonably well-kept road, barring the occasional pothole or artillery crater. For what it was worth, this area seemed to be relatively untouched by the war, with buildings and vegetation in much better condition than where they had stayed the previous night.

"Gerhard."

Coming out of his thoughts, the officer glanced over to see Maho looking back at him from the commander's hatch of the tank. She motioned ahead of them, where a crossroads had appeared after the small bend in the road they had taken. He took out his map and checked the route he had marked to the supply depot, showing it to Maho. Her eyes searched the paper briefly, and she nodded, then relayed the information to the rest of her crew via her communication piece around her neck. Gerhard took the dead time to look around the engine deck of the tank; his squad had gotten comfortable for the ride, finding ways to secure themselves so as not to fall off as the Tiger rumbled through the streets. Looking to Hans, he shifted over to where the obergefreiter was fiddling with the radio, trying to get it to work. "Any luck yet?"

The other man huffed, hitting the box with a borrowed screwdriver. "No. The stupid thing is still dead; I think something's wrong with the wiring or some such." Gerhard nodded in response, taking a look at the internals of the radio from afar. He wasn't all that savvy with that sort of thing, being more into mechanical work than electrical. What he saw simply looked like too many parts for a system far too small to fit all of them. "Well, it's no major deal. We'll be back in camp in a few days, and it shouldn't be hard to get another." With that, the hauptmann returned to his previous spot, laying out on the Tiger's turret. Maho looked down at him, a brief expression of surprise on her face before she looked back at the others in his squad.

"Don't worry, I won't get too comfy."

The girl just shook her head, focusing back on the road ahead. The two remained silent for a few minutes, the constant roar of the Tiger's engine droning on in Gerhard's ears. He watched her during that time frame, noticing how she constantly kept her eyes moving, searching for anything that might pose a danger to her or her crew. "Maho."

"Hmm?"

Gerhard sighed, sitting up and moving so he was sitting next to the hatch, his boots resting on the gun shield of the infamous 88-millimetre cannon. "How are you?"

"Fine."

"You know what I mean."

The young woman sighed, seeming to deflate a little. She looked at the officer next to her, taking in his presence. "It's all so much. Too much." She shrugged, taking a deep breath. "I know how you must have felt back then. Or something like it, at least."

The hauptmann shook his head. "No, I was a lot better off, I think. I managed to go somewhere that I wouldn't necessarily be shot on sight if seen." He shifted his legs, moving them to a bit better of a position before continuing. "But now you all are here, in one of the most prized targets of the Red Army; most infantry will recklessly charge a Tiger for an Order of Lenin. And there are more Soviet tanks here than I've ever seen before."

At his words, Maho's eyes glinted with amusement, and she let her small smile show again. "I think you'd be surprised at how well we can manage ourselves, Gerhard. I'm not a famous Tankery ace for nothing."

Gerhard just grunted, eyes on the road ahead. Occasionally, he'd see a small group of civilians walking towards the highway, most likely responding to the general's call to evacuate. They would often wave, and any children would sometimes get excited at the sight while their parents or guardians watched, a solemn look on their face. Maho watched him for a few more seconds, debating what to say next. "About everything back then..."

"What about it?"

"Why?"

Gerhard looked back at her, a tired look on his face. "Why what, exactly?"

Maho directed a rather serious look at him, enticing the German officer to stop the back and forth. He didn't intend to be that way, but his mind hadn't been completely focused on the conversation. "Our...relationship. Why did you connect with me so easily, so quickly, back then?" The young woman took another deep breath, and then continued. "I'm not complaining, but thinking back on it...it seemed a little sudden. I was just wondering how much of it you really meant."

Gerhard thought about it for a moment. He had no doubt that his feelings back then, and even now, were honest. Perhaps it had been a little quick, but such was the nature of an Eastern Front soldier's life. "All of it, really." At her mildly surprised expression, the hauptmann pushed on. "I really do like you, Maho; at least the you I got to know in those few short days we met. You're straightforward, honest, and strong...those are traits most Germans would look for in any acquaintance, and that extends to any love interests we might have." He sighed...fiddling with his rifle. "I didn't really get to prove much of my feelings for obvious reasons after the fact, but I do feel that way about you. I think I was just trying to relay to you, somehow, in as little time as I could; two years at the front showed me that you don't always get the time you think you might have."

Maho hummed in agreement, thinking back to that month in Abashiri. Her hand went down to her abdomen, where her constant reminder of how close she had come to experiencing what Gerhard was talking about was. As she felt the small scar, she thought over what the man had said. "I suppose that's fair...I think I sort of felt the same." She glanced around, checking for any threats before returning her attention to the conversation. "Maybe it was meant to be, maybe not. But if you're willing, I would like to try and pick up where we left off." After a moment's glance at the other passengers on the engine deck of the heavy tank, she added "Discreetly, if possible. For now at least."

Gerhard chuckled at that. "I see no issues with that right now." Maho smiled at his response, then started humming the next verse of Panzerlied; after a moment's hesitation, the hauptmann joined in.

Volksturmman Ella Krazer

1334 hours

Ella groaned as she sat up, back stiff from laying back on her pack for the past thirty minutes. The rest, while welcome, hadn't exactly been comfortable; between the constant smell of burning diesel fuel and the bumpy ride, she'd actually failed to fall asleep. Not that it mattered, the previous night had given her enough sleep that the young woman didn't really need any at this point, and given her nature, she was able to stave off any weariness with her cheery attitude.

Looking over the others in the squad, the brunette noted that most were also trying to get some rest, with the exception of Bernhard, who had become obsessed with the inner workings of his rifle and had started breaking it down whenever he got the chance to examine the different pieces. Her gaze drifted over to Obergefreiter Lehmann, who had fallen asleep with the radio in his lap, still partially disassembled. It seemed they wouldn't be getting in touch with headquarters until they saw the colonel in person.

From there, Ella's eyes turned onto her commander, who was sitting up on the turret of the massive heavy tank, back turned to her as he spoke to the strange woman that the hauptmann swore to be from the future. It didn't seem possible, but at the same time, it was probably the best explanation for the sudden appearance of five Japanese girls her age and a fully operational Tiger tank that they seemed intimately familiar with. That, and the commander had never lied to them when it came to anything before.

She sighed, brushing a few loose strands of hair behind her ear as she grabbed her canteen and took a sip. As far as she was concerned, the crew of the tank she was currently riding were in the same boat as the rest of them, and as such there was no reason she shouldn't try to be a little friendly. The commander she'd come to respect greatly seemed to feel the same, though according to his story, it seemed he'd been party to the same experience four years ago. He'd never spoken about the experience before yesterday, at least not to her knowledge, though to be fair, it may not have been well received; more likely, he'd have been sent back to Germany as a mental patient, depending on how vehemently he tried to defend his position. Regardless, the facts presented before her were undeniable, and there was no reason to fight them.

"Ella."

The woman blinked, then turned to see Leopold watching her silently, his rifle held securely between his legs. The young man had his railman's cap on as normal, with his dark hair spilling out in a way that would make most officers and senior enlisted have a conniption fit in the earlier days of the Wehrmacht. However, Hauptmann Koln was a little more lenient, as were his immediate subordinates. There were more pressing things to be concerned about, anyhow, than a simple haircut. "Ja?"

He eyed her for a few more silent seconds as he seemed to ponder something. Ella saw his eyes flash over to the two commanders of the separate groups, then return to her. "Anything on your mind?"

She wondered, sometimes, if the marksman had some sort of omnipotence that let him know what everyone around him was thinking. He was, at the very least, extremely observant. She took a look over at their commander, who seemed to have gotten closer to the Tiger's commander as they studied a map. "Nothing important right now." she finally replied. 'I think.'

"Hmm."

As Leopold dug into his bag, Ella watched her commander and the other girl speak, a few thoughts going through her head. Being such an outgoing person, she'd learned to read people fairly well, and from what she'd seen the past 24 or so hours, she would take a good guess that the two may have gotten close in the short time they'd known each other four years ago. The effect the brunette tank commander had on the hauptmann also seemed to prove it; in the short time that she'd been a part of his squad, it was rare to see the officer smile so brightly or be so relaxed. It was a good thing to see; the volksturmmann only wanted the best for each of her squad mates.

Reaching behind her and grabbing her pack, Ella dug around for her writing pad and pen, intent on writing down her thoughts. It was something she'd picked up a while ago to help her gather her thoughts and think over things; when she'd originally started fighting in the Battle of Berlin, she'd been unsure, scared, even, of what course her life would take, but upon meeting the hauptmann, who'd taken her under his wing and mentored her, she'd gained a lot more confidence, both on and off the battlefield. As she began penning out the things on her mind, she reminisced about the events leading to where she was today.

Of course, one of the first things that was written was her current opinion of the war, something she always started with. She'd joined the Hitlerjugend last year, with rather hopeful dreams of the military being able to make a comeback before the enemy reached Germany's borders. However, as was obvious from her current predicament, that never happened. Once conscripted into the Volksturm, she'd managed to stay in her home district in East Berlin, near her family.

'Until that day...'

The pen stopped moving as Ella took a deep breath, fighting down her emotions. A few months ago, while she was out on patrol, an air raid had forced her and the rest of her squad at the time into one of the nearby bomb shelters. It was one of the worst ones she'd experienced from the Soviets; for nearly three hours, the sirens wailed as the bomb shelter, really just one of the subway stops, shuddered with the force of each explosion. Finally, the all clear sounded, and the patrol group had resurfaced, only to see a shattered city. It took barely a minute before the relatively undisciplined conscripts started breaking off and ran to find their loved ones. The Wehrmacht officer that was meant to keep them in line didn't say anything, instead choosing to simply fade away like the rest of them; where to, the young woman wasn't sure.

She'd returned back to her home to find it bombed out, the building's innards having collapsed and leaving nothing but the shell standing. The young girl had asked survivors for news and dug for hours through the rubble, but finally came to the bitter conclusion that she'd refused to accept: her parents were gone. She'd stayed there in the rubble, crying and mourning her loss for even longer, until she'd fallen asleep.

'And then the captain appeared.' she thought, a trace of a smile on her face as she thought of that moment. She'd been awoken by a rough shake to her shoulder, only to find a middle-aged soldier kneeling next to her. She'd identified the uniform as a Wehrmacht regular, and had hastily tried to straighten herself out as the stabsfeldwebel called out to someone. A few moments later, an officer, a hauptmann arrived, and his eyes gave Ella a once over before he told her to follow him.

'And that was that.' she thought. Hauptmann Koln had brought her over to another girl her age, who she'd soon learn was Gruppenfuhrer Belts, another Volksturm conscript that had joined the squad some time earlier. The two had checked her over, helped clean her up, fed her, and sat down with her. Scared, lost, and alone as she'd been at the time, the hauptmann's genuine kindness had stuck out to her, and when asked if she'd like to lose the uniform and be taken out of Berlin with the other civilians, she'd wholeheartedly refused. As broken as she felt, she still held that patriotic fire in her heart, and if she could stop what happened to her from happening to others, she'd do her damnedest to see to it.

All of that had led to today, where the 'little lost girl' had become a confident, bright individual. She might not be the best soldier, but she tried her best, and under the guidance of the commander, she'd grown that much more. Hauptmann Koln had a way of inspiring everyone around him, and Ella was no exception to that. She brushed the strand of hair back out of her face as she kept writing, getting lost in her thoughts until a whistle caught her attention. She looked up to see her hauptmann standing on the roof of the Tiger's turret, looking back at his charges on the engine deck. She nudged the others as the Tiger turned off the road and passed into a closed-off area; their destination, she presumed.

"Alright, we're here." the officer stated, steadying himself as the tank came to an abrupt halt. The engine increased in pitch for a moment before dying down, soon silent except for the popping sounds of it cooling down in the somewhat chilly May weather. The tank's crew emerged out of various hatches, completing a circle around the hauptmann as he cleared his throat and spoke up. "From what I remember, this dump was abandoned in a hurry, so we should be able to find a decent amount of ammo and gear here." He looked over to the Tiger's commander, whom Ella made a mental note to try and speak to later; she seemed to know a decent amount of German. "There should be a decent amount of petrol here too; you should use it to fill up, and there's more than likely ammunition as well. Make sure you take all those training rounds out and get loaded up with what you think is best. I don't doubt that you'll face the same reactions from the Soviets as a normal Tiger crew."

The young woman atop the Tiger translated the hauptmann's words to her crew, and seemed to have a brief conversation with one in particular. They went back and forth for a few moments before the commander turned back to speak to Hauptmann Koln. "Yukiko wanted me to inform you that we don't use petrol. The engine is a proposed upgrade we use; it's a diesel."

The German captain's eyebrow twitched almost imperceptibly, and he stared at his counterpart for a few moments before sighing. "There's probably some diesel around too. Make sure you get whatever you need quickly though; I want to be out of here before nightfall. Leopold!" The marksman looked up at the sound of his name, gripping his rifle. "Find a spot to keep lookout, let us know if anything is coming. Get with Bernhard and have him get you anything you want." The sniper nodded and leaped off the tank, followed shortly by all the others as they fanned out and started looking for supplies.

Gefreiter Leopold Kesselschmied

1418 hours

After giving Bernhard a laundry list of items to grab, Leopold started looking around for a roost to camp out in until the others had finished their work. Spying a tower atop a rather dilapidated fire station, the marksman allowed himself a small grin before jogging over and finding the ladder within. It took him only a minute to scale it, and he arrived at the top to a wide view of the surrounding buildings and beyond. Most of the area was open up until the small village near the crossroads, and down the road, Leopold could make out the buildings of Dallgow-Doberitz on the horizon, along with the pillars of smoke rising into the air from the incessant fires that raged on nearly every day.

Grunting, the young man settled into a comfortable position, watching his squad gather ammunition and other materials for use later. The five girls that made up the tank crew were chucking out ammunition from their tank; why, he wasn't sure, but he figured it had to do with the training rounds Hauptmann Koln had mentioned earlier. The whole story they'd been given hadn't really bothered him, whether or not it was true or some madman's tale. The way he saw it, they now had one of the most capable vehicles in Germany's inventory available to them, alongside a competent crew.

He sighed. 'This officer is really putting on a show of caring, isn't he?' he thought, idly wiping the lenses of his scope. Leopold hadn't been with this squad very long, having only been assigned a few days before the orders to commence the operation were given. From his experience though, many people, and especially officers, had been weaseling their way out of combat for the express purpose of escaping the war-torn city and surviving. To him, it was only a matter of time before the hauptmann abandoned them in the heat of battle and made his escape. Perhaps it was a cynical outlook, but it'd kept him alive so far.

Well, that and his rifle.

Looking at the weapon in question, he pulled back the bolt and made sure the clip was topped off. Satisfied, he secured it again, the action smooth and clean. Leopold had kept the rifle in superb condition ever since he'd received it, and it seemed to work; he was one of the deadliest marksmen in the platoon for some reason, and that one was as good as any. He didn't care about the numbers anymore; all he remembered was receiving the Iron Cross, 1st Class, for his actions during the Fall of Seelöwe Heights. He'd received a nickname oft given to the Soviet attack planes that would come in great flocks and fall upon them like so many vultures: Der Schlatcher.

'What an awful nickname.' He thought, grimacing. It wasn't really fitting for someone his age to have a name like that; it didn't really match the image of the boy who just wanted to go home and ply his trade alongside his father and brothers. 'Klaus would have thought it was a cool name.'

At that particular thought, he hummed absent-mindedly. It'd been a long time since he'd heard from his eldest brother or father, and even longer since he'd seen them in person. Klaus, the eldest of his three siblings, had signed up for the Wehrmacht as soon as he could in 1942, being send to North Africa under General Rommel. As a result, his father, who'd kept working the family trade at the shunting yards in Erfurt, started taking Leopold and Albert, the second eldest child, into work to learn the family trade. Albert, of course, had also signed up shortly after in 1943, being sent to France, where the two eldest siblings had met once more and continuously wrote about the trouble they got up to in the French countryside.

With those two far off, Leopold was left as the only one with his father; his sister, Anna, was working at one of the nearby dispatch offices as an operator, and it was unlikely she would have been expected to work such a job anyhow. As such, Leopold alone learned the full family trade under the guidance of his father and his friends. His hard work had caught the eye of many of the workers, and there were many times where he'd be shown tricks of the trade and given the opportunity to operate one of the large locomotives on its daily routes. Eventually, the young man had been recognized by the yard as a prospective engineer, and that opened up a whole new world for him.

Exhaling sharply, the gefreiter looked around at the surrounding countryside briefly, spying nothing out of the ordinary. He looked down below at the others, seeing no one but two of the tankers refueling the Tiger. He managed to catch a few light tones of their strange language as they spoke to each other, looking around warily.

Turning away, Leopold resumed reflecting on his more recent years. Not two weeks after his great accomplishment and promotion, and less than one after his seventeenth birthday, a Wehrmacht officer clad in full parade uniform had arrived at their door, bearing a letter.

Albert had fallen in the line of duty.

The news had hit the family hard, of course. His mother was nearly inconsolable for the first few hours, and his sister wasn't much better. His father, having dealt with death in the First Great War, was able to hide his pain, but Leopold could see it in his eyes. As for the young man himself?

He'd gone to his room and shut himself in. And cried. Denied it, shouted his anger, his despair, and all the other emotions he had whirling about him at the time. After some time, he'd calmed, but what was there to be done? As his parents went over the details of the compensation, arranged the funeral, and received his brother's medal for his bravery, he and his sister had left the house; Leopold had gone to the train yard, where he'd simply worked until dark to keep his mind off the news. It was late that night when he'd returned, finding his father waiting for him. The two had a short discussion, the patriarch wanting to ensure his youngest was well.

Not long after that, following Christmas and Leopold's birthday, a mandate had come out from the government, expanding the conscription age of the service. Having just turned seventeen, Leopold was subject to the new age, and his job in the yards wouldn't protect him. So too was the case with his father, who went into the volksturm due to his age. Leopold, refusing to let his fate be decided, enlisted in the Wehrmacht, rather than chance being put on a U-boat or up in the air against the Allied air assault. Immediately after his abbreviated training, he and his new platoon were spirited off to the frontline: Seelöwe Heights.

And that had eventually led to this.

The marksman snapped out of his thoughts quickly as he saw a flash of movement in the treeline of the nearby forest. In an instant, he'd dropped to his knee and steadied his rifle against the railing of the tower, peering through his scope. His heart rate slowed with his breathing as Leopold tracked the small patch of color moving through the trees, waiting for the bushes to cease obscuring his target. As the patch of color neared the treeline, the sniper fingered the rifle's trigger, ready to depress it once he lined up the shot.

And all at once, he relaxed, letting out whatever air he had left in his lungs. Pulling away from the scope, Leopold watched as a young stag walked out from behind the brush, cautiously looking around the quiet town. Leopold stayed still, avoiding making any movement that might startle the animal. It had been a long time since he'd seen a red deer, at least since 1940, when his uncle had taken him hunting south of Munich. The memory brought a smile to his face, and made him think about what might happen when the war was over.

For a few more moments, the hart stayed still, then continued on its way, delicately trotting through the assorted trees and bushes surrounding the small village. Leopold watched as the animal disappeared into the trees, leaving naught a trace behind to ever show it was there.

Gruppenfuhrer Amelia Belts

1422 hours

Amelia hummed as she sorted through various boxes of ammunition, looking for anything that might be useful later. Behind her, a stack of discarded containers marked her path as she had perused the abandoned supplies for magazine clips, grenades, and more. For the most part, the boxes had been thoroughly rifled through, whether by fellow German soldiers or opportunistic Soviets that had been here earlier, she didn't know. Nor did she really care.

Shifting her rifle to her other shoulder, the gruppenfuhrer took a pause in her work, looking at her spoils so far; six more box magazines for her G.43, as well as some ammunition to put into them and replenish the ones she already had. Beside those was a previously-unopened box of assorted grenades, which she would take back to the rest of the squad to distribute. Finally, and perhaps one of the more valuable discoveries that would happen, a single Panzerfaust stood, propped up against the box she'd been laying out her finds on. 'Hopefully we won't need it, but...'

The woman sighed as she looked around, spotting Bernhard and Nikolas entering a small shed, perhaps looking for newer weapons or something similar. The younger of the two spotted her and waved briefly, and she smiled and responded with one of her own before going back into her thoughts.

Bernhard had actually been part of her volksturm squad earlier this year, conscripted into the militia just after she was promoted to gruppenfuhrer, a rare case for most women. Typically, the officers overseeing the training and deployment of the recruits were a little more...selective, to say the least, in their choices for leadership. Truly, Amelia didn't know why she'd been picked, but it gave her a little more free reign. At least, until she'd been reassigned to fill the empty spaces in the Wehrmacht's ranks.

Continuing her search, she thought back to earlier that year, right before her conscription. Her aunt, probably seeing the writing on the wall, had come to her and stated her intentions to flee to the Rhineland and escape the menacing Soviets closing on Berlin. At the time, Amelia had been lost, her former patriotic fervor broken by the realization that Germany was doomed to lose the war, most likely to be broken up and taken into the ever-increasing reach of the Soviet Union. On top of that, the fact that her father, who'd joined the service willingly in 1939, had not written in nearly six months made her believe that, more than likely, she'd lost her only surviving parent, her mother having passed away some years ago during the depression. With her in that poor state of mind, when her aunt had offered to spirit away her three younger brothers with her, Amelia had agreed. Despite taking care of them as best as an older sister could for the last five and a half years, there was no further point in keeping them here when she, too, could be killed at any moment. It helped her somewhat, knowing that no matter how her own fate twisted, her three siblings would be able to live a life of relative peace when all was said and done.

"Amelia."

The young woman let out a surprised yelp as she turned around, hand grasping her rifle on instinct. She'd been so engrossed in her train of thought, she'd failed to hear the hauptmann walking up behind her. The officer looked over some of the things she'd found, looking particularly at the anti-tank rocket, chipping some dried mud off absentmindedly. "Ja, hauptmann?'

The older man looked up at her, scrutinizing her expression for a half-second before going back to his own search. "Nothing of import. You seemed lonely is all, and I haven't found any new magazines for this stupid thing." He slapped the stock of his sturmgewehr, the barest traces of a smile on his face.

Amelia nodded, averting her eyes and motioning towards her 'searched' stack. "I found some in there, sir." The officer brightened and thanked her, busying himself with grabbing what he could out of the box while Amelia watched. The hauptmann had been the first to greet her and Bernhard when they arrived at the Twelfth Army's encampment some weeks ago, and his personality and care for all under his command had started breaking down the weary gruppenfuhrer's defenses, ones she didn't even know she'd been erecting. He genuinely seemed to care, and he went great lengths to make all of the volksturm troops assigned to him feel like they belonged, which was better than what half of the regular army did. For the first time in a long time, Amelia hadn't needed to worry about everyone else, as she had with her brothers. Rather, each and every one of the others seemed to be looking out for each other, doing what they could to make each other's lives easier. It was a change the woman didn't realize she needed until after it had happened, and one that ended up being more than welcome.

As she continued both her search and her train of thought, Amelia began humming again, absentmindedly fiddling with the hem of her shirt with her free hand. She found a few five-round Mauser clips and pocketed them, making a note to give them to Leopold when he joined the squad back on the ground. Behind her, she heard the hauptmann pick up the tune as well, quietly humming the chorus with her. Amelia let a small smile grace her face as she and her commander continued their search.

Gefreiter Nikolas Wulfe

1519 hours

"That's probably not the best idea, you know."

Nikolas shrugged at Bernhard's half-hearted warning before taking another drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out through his nose and keeping the butt in his mouth. The volksturmsmann sighed and went back to digging through the ammo crates in the storage shed, moving away from the smoking soldier. Unconcerned with the hazard posed to himself, Nikolas resumed reassembling his MG34, which now had a new barrel, receiver, and trigger, courtesy of the spare parts box he'd found previously. It was helping keep his hands steady, and despite his young age, the young man had been smoking long enough to be aware of when he needed to move away from more reactive materials that didn't play well with heat or fire.

Finishing his modifications, the tall machine gunner slung his weapon over his back and instead dragged a nearby ammunition canister over. Inside were numerous cartridges for the Kurz rifle, probably enough to allow Leopold to take on the entire Red Army if given the chance. The next canister he produced had a few empty belts for either the MG34 or 42, and the gefreiter drew one of them out, sighing as he prepared himself. 'Nothing for it, I guess.'

With that thought, he began the arduous process of manually building new ammunition belts. Despite their best efforts, Bernhard and Nikolas had been unable to find any pre-made belts of machine gun ammo, despite looking throughout the abandoned ammo depot. Most annoyingly, the three girls who'd also been scavenging the place had found no less than five belts earlier, and had installed them into their tank's hull-mounted gun. In light of that, the gunner was left to make his own ammo belts out of Mauser magazines, sweat, and tears.

'Verdammt!'

Nikolas inhaled sharply and drew his hand back, a drop of blood marking where he'd just been pinched. Yeah, he was not a fan of this. He noted that he'd bitten down on the cigarette in his mouth, a rather foul taste now filling it as he resumed working. He took a moment to spit out the remains of the still-burning tube on the dirt floor, stamping out the embers before they could do any harm. Not that they would, but it would appease the younger volksturm recruit.

For the next twenty or so minutes, the only sounds that could be heard in the small shed were the quiet shifting of boxes as Bernhard went through them, checking yet again for anything the two might have missed, and the methodical clicking of a round being seated into place in the metal ammo belt, punctuated by an occasional curse. By the end of that time, Nikolas had three new belts and five new cuts to account for, and Bernhard had managed to find a near-perfect condition bayonet that would likely do absolutely no good in the coming weeks. Or it might. Preferably not. He watched as the sixteen-year old boy worked to finagle the bayonet onto the end of his rifle, the shoddy volksgewehr not having been made to fit a bayonet. "If you really want to keep that, you should probably get a real rifle."

Bernhard looked up, blinking twice as he processed Nikolas's words. The gefreiter nodded to a rack in the corner, upon which stood a few weathered, standard-issue bolt-action rifles. The younger one nodded and retrieved one, and Nikolas was surprised and pleased to see that he immediately began disassembling the weapon, cleaning it and learning how the insides worked so he could make the outsides do their part. Good, that was less work he'd have to do.

"Schiesse!"

Bernhard looked up in surprise as Nikolas, having been distracted, pressed his thumb against his blouse, a small spot of blood staining the fabric as the machine gunner, in no uncertain terms, stated exactly what he thought of the designer of the MG34's chain belt.

Maho Nishizumi

1601 hours

Maho watched as the lower edge of the sun dipped below the horizon, heralding the beginning of the day's end. Around her, the other four members of the Tiger's crew were laying about, having finished their work some time ago and using the lull to cool down. She wasn't used to having to move ammunition like that, and the 8.8cm rounds fired by the Tiger weren't exactly light.

A low humming came from behind her, the brunette analyzing it to be the opening lines of 'Erika', one of Kuromorimine's more popular battle songs. Hisayo joined Riko, followed by Niko and Yukiko, and finally, Maho herself, who grinned and shrugged. "When in Rome, I suppose."

The others smiled at her statement, and they went on, enjoying the brief respite they'd earned. As the song wound down, Maho saw Gerhard and a few other members of his squad reappear, some appearing to carry heavier packs than what they had started with. A loud whistle cut through the air, followed by another two whistles from atop the old fire station some ways away. The crew of the Tiger dispersed, assisting their new allies with the spoils they found and securing them onto the Tiger. As Maho busied herself with helping the more mature girl, Amelia, if she remembered right, she saw Gerhard walk over to Yukiko, trying to speak to her with his decent, if somewhat broken, Japanese. After he failed a few times, receiving a laugh or two from her driver, Maho jumped over the turret and tagged her compatriot out, looking down at the German officer. "You still need some work before you try that."

Gerhard grinned as he brought a foot up onto one of the Tiger's treads, resting his weight against the tank. "Can't fault a man for trying." He sighed and looked back at the work being done on the engine deck; the rest of the hauptmann's squad had joined them, and were mounting up as the crew of the tank looked over everything and clambered into their seats. Maho saw his eyes flick to the horizon, where the sun continued to fall, now a little more than a quarter below the distant horizon. "Did you get everything?"

Maho nodded. "We found more than enough fuel and ammo, and some jerry cans to bring some extra diesel with us." The young woman brushed her hair back and shifted to allow Hisayo to get into the tank, shutting the hatch behind her. "Hopefully we won't need to use it, but..."

Gerhard fixed her with a serious looked, standing up straight again. "I can't guarantee that, you know."

She nodded, looking out to the quiet, abandoned village nearby. "I know. I just...I just want to get back home." She looked back down at the officer, a heavy looked writ both on her face and in her eyes. "I'm afraid, Gerhard. And I don't know what I'll do if-"

"Don't worry about it." the former pilot interrupted. "Something like that isn't worth dwelling on." The look in his eyes showed Maho that he had most likely dealt with the same thoughts at some point. Of course he had, given his situation. "Just focus on getting through each day, and don't forget everyone that has your back." The officer dipped his head towards the rear of the tank, where his squad was discussing what they had found and divvying it up among themselves. He also made a subtle motion towards the driver's hatch, most likely suggesting her crew and friends as well. She sighed, looking back out to the swiftly setting sun. "I suppose you're right. But I'll still worry."

A ghost of a grin danced across Gerhard's lips. "Good." He clambered up onto the tank, nearly losing his footing before Maho snapped out her hand and grabbed his arm, heaving the man up to stand beside her. He nodded his thanks and stood beside her for a moment, Maho suddenly aware of the lack of distance between the two of them. She thought back to their conversation earlier that day, where she'd confronted him about their interactions last year. Decades from now?

'Nope, stopping now.' Thinking too much about the whole time travel thing would just give her another headache.

Regardless, as much as she wanted to discuss the topic again, Maho had to sort out her own feelings first. She certainly felt something for Gerhard, that much she knew. But she wasn't too familiar with this sort of thing anyhow, and in her typical style wanted to have all her facts straight before making a decision. Maybe Hisayo could help her; that girl seemed to know people better than they knew themselves. After a few more moments of silence, she cleared her throat, and she saw Gerhard start, clearly having had his mind elsewhere as well.

"Right then, so..."

"Probably."

Reading each other's mind, the two got into their respective places, Gerhard clambering over the turret and securing himself on the engine deck while Maho slid into the commander's hatch, standing on the floor of the turret basket as she checked behind her briefly, ensuring all passengers were accounted for. Once done, she turned back forward, depressing the button on her communicator. "Alright, Yukiko, start her up."

"On it!"

With a brief sputter, then a roar befitting it's name, the Tiger's engine came to life, echoing through the small hamlet. As the roar became an idle hum, Maho looked back to the German officer behind her, who pointed out the direction that they should take. She nodded once, then resumed looking forward.

"Voraus!"

With another roar, the Tiger began rolling forward, treads clattering as they moved from dirt to asphalt and the steel beast turned down the road, taking its passengers into the sunset, and to whatever waited beyond.

And with that, I have surpassed my limit of 7k words for a chapter, my longest yet!

It was actually a lot of fun, getting into the weeds for the OCs that, until now, haven't really been given a background or had their stories told. Everything you see here, with exception for a few liberties I took, comes directly from the character sheets provided by the owners. To you all, I again thank you, and hope that your characters have been done justice. I mean to use them plenty more in the future, so having this chapter to set their personalities should be quite useful later on.

Additionally, I reached 100 followers for the story, which, for me, is amazing! Thank you all for your time and support, and I plan not to disappoint (anymore).

Final word: the diesel engine I am referring to in this chapter is the (this is a long one) Simmering-Graz-Pauker Sla.16, which some of you may know from War Thunder. There is, of course, no known case of this engine being put into the Tiger II, for which it was designed, but Tankery rules are a little bendable, and I took the liberty of placing it here, in a Tiger I. As the dimensions for the engine cannot be agreed upon, and the Tiger I and II shared the same engines, it's entirely feasible the Simmering could have been placed into the original Tiger, which would have fixed nearly all the problems that the underpowered Maybach gave.

Sorry for the long note, but until next time, this is KTA334, signing off!