~Chapter 3 – Graf Zeppelin Inbound~
An interlude with Commanders Nishizumi and Itsumi, and Momo angers the tank gods. Features lots of hot, steamy technical descriptions of mechanized hardware.
Located near the training fields, the "C" Werkstätten –maintenance workshops– neighboring the vehicle hangars at Kuromorimine Girls' Academy were ringing with activity. Since the earliest hours of the morning, the mechanical engineering students had sent out teams to carry out maintenance and repairs on several vehicles.
With them, a number of the Sensha-dō students had also turned up to lend assistance and learn more about the vehicles that they themselves operated.
It was an essential part of any tanker's training: to know how to fix anything that could potentially break or be damaged in the field. Often, a match's outcome was decided not by the damage a vehicle sustained, but whether a tank's crew could address the issue before the enemy could regroup and capitalize.
It was a day for the heavies; four maintenance bays were fully utilized, with teams of up to ten students each working on various components. In the first bay was a Jagdpanther. A crane was being used to manually lift the cannon, which was separated from its fittings to address a vertical guidance issue.
Bay 2: A Panzerkampfwagen V, ausf. G – while not a heavy tank, Panthers often required the same attention and expertise as their heavier cousins. This one had quite a successful service record; so successful that it needed many things replaced that would normally be swapped due to battle damage. Its entire engine assembly was being ripped out in to insert a brand-new unit; one that would give the vehicle a new lease on life.
Bay 3: A mighty Königstiger. The vehicle was only undergoing cleaning and lubrication, which in the eyes of the engineering students was good fortune; such a beastly machine was a decidedly unwelcome sight to many of the mechanics due to its sheer difficulty in maintenance, not to mention the size and weight. Having so many unskilled hands available in that case would only make matters worse, as the tank took up a large footprint and the logistics of carrying out significant repairs in such a small area would lead to personnel tripping over each other. It was certainly not suited for the faint-of-heart nor someone on their first week.
And in bay 4: A Tiger I – a well-known vehicle among the Kuromorimine fleet, with '212' markings on either side of its turret. While in good overall shape, it was long overdue for a suspension overhaul, which meant removal of tracks and road wheels to fully service the eight suspension arms on each side. Half of the road wheels would need new rubber, as well. It would be the most time-consuming, if not one of the more involved jobs happening in the workshop that day.
With leather gloves covered in dirt and grease, a well-postured and fit brunette browsed through rows of shelves, which were laden with sliding bins and boxes of parts arranged in meticulous order. She was on the workshop's second floor – a railed-off section of concrete flooring that ran much of the building's interior walls. The pungent smell of grease and oil, combined with the sharp, distinctive odor of metal being vaporized by angle grinders and welding torches was heavy up there, pulled to the roof by an industrial air exchanger.
Having joined some of her fellow students to both supervise and participate, Commander Maho Nishizumi had a list in hand and was gathering needed parts for the Tiger I. She'd carefully gathered the new lug bolts needed for the road wheels – over 100 in total to complete the job. Having never done intensive work on her favored heavy tank, she found a new sense of respect for those who had to do this regularly.
Also with her was her vice-commander, Erika Itsumi. Having not received much sleep the night before, she'd overslept and arrived late, at a time where the other students present could logically turn a suspicious eye. Erika had the feeling that there was resentment, sensing their accusing stares burning holes in her. She was known to have a distaste for menial labor, and they seemed to act like she was focused shirking her duties.
In truth, there really wasn't much for her to do. Even so, getting caught just standing idly – something she would have preferred due to her lack of sleep – made her feel like some sort of pariah in the eyes of the mechanics and her crew. A fairly heated exchange with one of the engineering students ended in the classmate telling the vice-commander flippantly to 'go grease up your ball-bearings', much to the surprise of everyone within earshot.
Erika couldn't find words for a comeback; not without making it obvious that it was her mind taking a fairly innocuous comment in that direction. So, she indignantly stomped off and found other work to do.
She'd been seething with anger ever since, but helping Maho's team with the Tiger I had kept her occupied. She pushed a rolling cart, helping with the parts collection. They walked the storage level in appropriate work-wear; tan shorts, boots, and black work shirts. No sense in dirtying their school uniforms.
"Roller bearings and spacers, four of each, for both sides of the Tiger." Said Maho, searching the shelves according to the master list of inventory that rested on a nearby table.
"Here they are." Erika tapped her hand on the appropriate boxes and proceeded to load them up. They were quite heavy, and she strained to do so.
Helping her, Maho felt weakness in her arms and shoulders; most of the roller bearings and spacers had seized onto the Tiger's inner road wheels and needed to be taken off with a blowtorch – or smacked heartily with a sledgehammer.
Having given said sledgehammer a go, Maho's muscles felt like gelatin. She made a mental note to visit the school's health spa later on, to ensure that she hadn't accidentally torn a muscle or caused a strain. She also made a personal promise to never do that again.
"I never knew how humid it can be up here. But then we are on a ship, after all." Erika groaned, resting her weight against a rolling shelf once they were done.
With beads of sweat clinging to her hair, Maho gave only a slight nod, handing her a bottle of water. "We can take a break for now, if you'd like."
The rolling shelf began to do just that – roll, with Erika coming along with it. She quickly corrected herself and was happy to oblige, taking the water.
Maho walked to a railing and leaned forward, arching her back to stretch her muscles as she looked down into the maintenance bays below. The crews and mechanics were busy, carrying out their tasks around the massive lengths of the Tiger's tracks laid out on the floor.
Over the workshop's PA system, music had been playing. A new favorite on recent broadcasts came on; a ringing, yet somber guitar passage followed by a deep, melodic baritone vocal:
*[Die Nacht öffnet ihren Schoß
Das Kind heißt Einsamkeit
Es ist kalt und regungslos
Ich weine leise in die Zeit]
[Ich weiß nicht wie du heißt
Doch ich weiß dass es dich gibt
Ich weiß dass irgendwann
Irgendwer mich liebt]*
Erika mouthed along to the words, taking the same stance as her commander. She watched as she pulled out her cell phone and began snapping photos after speed-reading through several text messages.
"More public relations material?" She asked.
Maho took a fairly large amount of photographs in a short time, nodding her head again. "It never hurts to update one's image."
Erika shrugged, pulling her own phone out to check her inbox. She'd read everything already, but two recent messages had been in the back of her mind, and she went back to review them, wondering if this would be the best time to re-air her grievances with the commander.
"Ms Akaboshi says that the airship is about to lift off." Maho said, surprising Erika. The commander had zeroed in precisely on where she'd been headed. "Do you still hold your feelings from when we spoke earlier?"
Clenching her teeth against such a direct question, Erika nodded slowly. "Yes. I hold my convictions, but I don't hold grudges."
Maho's face was silent, but she did cast a sideways glance at her subordinate's curious remark, knowing more about her nature than she let on. "Don't be mistaken; for the most part, I agree with your view."
Putting her phone away, Erika clenched the railing with one hand, gripping it strongly. "Were that so… why go with her choice versus mine?"
"In the past, it was enough for all decisions regarding our tankery to be made by myself. However, I have learned that success is more readily assured through delegation. That is why, in time, I approached you to be my executive. You showed natural leadership ability, and moreover, your understanding and devotion to the craft far exceeded that of all others."
Erika was glad that she wasn't looking directly at Maho, as the redness in her cheekbones would have been apparent. She was always thankful for whatever praise she could receive from the commander.
Maho continued with her advisement, opening her own bottle of water. "As others such as Koume show their leadership abilities, I am compelled to delegate further. I wish to cultivate a flexible, capable command structure. That, at times, will result in differing views. Ultimately, this will help us to make the best decisions, and we won't suffer from the rigidness of the past that led to our second championship defeat."
Erika's eyes widened as memories flooded back to her. Not immediately to the loss against Oarai, but the fateful day when Kuromorimine lost to Pravda in what should have been their 10th consecutive win. And again, the following year, crushing defeat thanks to…
To Miho. The commander's younger sister, now commander of Oarai. She clenched her teeth as bitterness roiled deep within. That dilettante. If we'd really been so rigid, she never would have thrown that match, and we'd still be winners. Instead, we've lost twice. TWICE. All because of her!
While the fires of anguish may have cooled over time, Erika still couldn't bring herself to say that she was fully over it. The memory still stung deep down, still made her lose sleep on occasion, still drove her to push harder and harder in making Kuromorimine's might and strategy as formidable as it could possibly be.
What was worse, it was Koume's tank that slid off that cliff and into the water that day. Every time Erika saw Koume since, she couldn't help but feel several emotions at once. Conflicting, disruptive feelings that she didn't want to deal with.
Maho's voice shook Erika out of her momentary lapse of attention, back to the present. "That command structure, of course, includes you. I didn't make my decision without considering your views. I rarely do, you understand."
Erika nodded, although the explanation didn't quite put her at ease. In her time as vice-commander, she had grown accustomed to not only reinforcing her superior's orders on a level field, but acting as her voice, hands and feet in her absence. It was a mantle she took up quite jealously – something that others simply couldn't bring themselves to do, in her mind. Especially not someone as wholesome and perpetually callow as Koume.
In this case, however, she'd been outmaneuvered. Despite being vocal with her qualms, Koume went over her head to seek approval from the commander. It may have been her prerogative as a newer officer, but it was still one of a few things that day to piss her off. "You don't think we should exercise our authority, as granted by the Federation? They explicitly granted us the power to reject the measures if we see fit. A more capable team can be sent in their place."
Maho looked back down at the disassembled Tiger in front of her. "With a request for an exhibition on the horizon, I don't see a benefit in delay. The sooner we can work with this new team and the new guidelines, the more it will benefit us.
"Further, it will be good for Koume, whether or not this new mandate succeeds, to see this through. And if she fails, I expect her to take responsibility. As I entrust much to you, I entrust this to her."
The two stood in silence, listening to the music as it echoed throughout the garage.
[Ich warte hier…
Don't die before I do…
Ich warte hier…
Stirb nicht vor mir…]
"Itsumi… you believe that the team coming in is below standard?" Asked Maho, taking a sip from a bottle of her own.
Erika licked her dry lips, taking another drink. "I see two Oarai alumni and two… foreign boys, who are unlikely to understand what Sensha-dō really means to m… Us. To us."
"There is only one foreign boy, I understand. And after all this time, including the match we just went through to save Oarai, you don't think it's fair to give Oarai the benefit of the doubt?"
"It… it's not that I don't trust Oarai. They aren't really the issue." She looked down toward the maintenance bays herself, but it was not to survey the work: it was to keep her gaze low. It was getting progressively harder to hide her emotions, especially from Maho, whom she still admired greatly amidst her angst.
It was a surprise when she felt the commander's hand on her shoulder. "You're not alone. After all, what have we been told about Sensha-dō from the beginning?"
Almost robotically, she recited a couple of lines that she'd first heard as a younger girl when aspiring to join tankery. "By studying Sensha-dō, you inherit an essential virtue for maidens such as yourself. So, healthy and gently…"
"The stable you – will certainly receive favor from gentlemen."
They spoke the last line in unison, then laughed heartily before gazing upon their vehicles once more. Noble machines of Deutsche might. Tons upon tons of cold, unyielding steel. Implements of war.
All of this to impress men? Erika furrowed her brow at the thought. She looked toward Maho, who as usual, kept her expression neutral.
"I never fully accepted that last line." Maho spoke, adding a chuckle as she took her hand away from her shoulder. "In truth, I find tanks easier to understand than men. And much more…"
In the pause, Erika filled in the blank. "Powerful?"
"That is one way to look at it."
"Reliable? Consistent?"
"True, and true." Maho took another drink, then straightened up. "Let's talk more about it over lunch, yeah?"
Erika heaved a light sigh, stretched her shoulders, and smiled genuinely. "Sure. I-I'll buy this time."
[I don't know who you are
I know that you exist (Stirb nicht)
Sometimes love seems so far (Ich warte hier)
Your love I can't dismiss (Stirb nicht vor mir)]
They moved down the rows, the weight of the cart now bordering on unmanageable. It was pushed onto an elevated platform, and once secured, lowered down to the shop floor by at the push of a button by a hydraulic lift.
The pair then walked side-by-side toward the stairs. "I do have to ask, in light of the situation, a favor." Maho said. "With Koume as liaison for the incoming team, I'll task Emi Kojima to train directly with them along with the self-propelled gun unit. I still want competent eyes to oversee all, and give the occasional report. Confirm details, if you get my meaning."
The platinum-blonde smiled cunningly. "I know just the person."
With a silent nod of understanding, they continued downstairs to shower and break for lunch.
"Rheinland 1, this is Braunschweiger 3. Request conditions for final."
"Braunschweiger 3, Rheinland 1, visual confirmed. Your LZ is clear. Winds at 10 knots Westen. Approach Ost for mooring."
"Ja wohl."
Over the city of Kumamoto, a silver-skinned airship bearing iron cross logos moved gracefully, slowly coming down from its cruising altitude of 600 feet. One of many owned by Kuromorimine, the LZ-127 Graf Zeppelin was capable of transporting not only people, but several tanks within its gondola.
As the school was well-known to its home prefecture, the sight of such a craft in the sky wasn't unfamiliar to locals. But to those on the limited express train that was pulling into Kumamoto station, it was quite a thing to behold.
The tank destroyer crew was busy packing up their things when, out the window of the cabin, Aono spotted the dirigible making a slow, meandering turn on its landing approach. He was like a wide-eyed kid on Christmas morning as he pointed. "Wow, a zeppelin! Get a load of that!" He exclaimed, so excited that he said it in English, whipping out his phone to take photos.
The synchronization had been meticulously planned, as the airship had taken off precisely at the time needed to arrive for a seamless extraction. Hours earlier, the parking lot at Kuromorimine South – a land-based satellite location for the school – had been cleared of all traffic and cars. At the far end of the lot, students were manning the school's mooring mast, which would assist with landing and securing the airship upon arrival.
Roman was gathering up his own belongings, making sure that a certain stuffed bear was tucked safely into the inside pocket of his tanker's jacket. He caught only a brief glimpse of the massive airship while looking over the heads of Aono and Erwin, who were now both enthralled.
As though the introductory video hadn't demonstrated the amount of resources and expertise available at their new host school, the presence of a Graf Zeppelin sealed the deal – much like Pravda, Kuromorimine was a high-roller. "Gotta hand it to Kuro; they have some cool toys." He commented, looking at his phone, confirming the time with his watch. They would soon be pulling into the station.
Once the train came to its final stop at the platform, Roman and crew went through the whirlwind of squeezing past all the other passengers, staying together with their baggage until the flatbed was finally disconnected and rolled to a proper loading zone.
They could then board and inspect Roza for any mechanical gremlins that may have crept up during travel, which they did while waiting for further instruction.
The sun was high in a cloudless sky, and a cool wind swept across the station platforms. Nearby, a few high-rise buildings could be seen, rising from a busy urban outpost. Kumamoto, much like Hiroshima, was an active and thriving capitol city.
"Crew, post. To your stations." Roman ordered, his demeanor quickly changing. His phone was in his hand, as he had been exchanging messages for the last half hour with their liaison. A vehicle escort would arrive soon; they would be taking surface streets on their way to the satellite school.
It was time to get to down to business. They'd already been briefed that they would treat this next portion of their journey like a combat maneuver, so they followed all the same practices.
With all hatches open, Aono stood on Roza's roof, catching baggage as Roman, Momo and Erwin would work in line, heaving items upwards from below.
The bags would be placed wherever empty space could be found inside the fighting compartment; luckily they were carrying no ammunition, so much could be placed in the empty ammo racks, but it still made for an even more cramped and impractical experience as the crew would have to wedge themselves in after the fact.
Once inside and at their stations, they all tended to their various controls as though preparing for combat action. Momo shifted around in her driver's seat, trying her best to find a comfortable position. Besides one of her bags jutting out from the empty ammunition rack to her right, the length of her legs meant that she would keep inadvertently banging into the gear selector between her knees.
"There was a reason I asked for pants!" She griped as she shuffled about, adjusting the best that she could. The cargo shorts she was given ended just above where the hardest part of the selector would whack her around the knees.
Erwin was in her gunner's seat just over Momo's right shoulder, more focused on adjusting her optics and testing the manual traverse and elevation controls than to entertain complaints. She muttered a fairly snide response while looking through her telescopic sight. "I'll wear capris when my corpse has gone cold as Stalingrad."
Aono's corner of the fighting compartment was also cramped, filled with the majority of luggage and his own items. Besides that, he possessed a tall, lanky frame, and had to position his feet strategically to keep from tripping over objects on the floor, all while ducking anytime he couldn't stand in the open loader's hatch.
He confirmed that the locking mechanisms for the breech were in place, then stood on his seat to have a more comfortable experience, surveying the surroundings outside the vehicle.
Outside on the flatbed, Roman watched as a convoy approached. Five vehicles total, all painted in flawless Dunkelgelb: A trio of Zündapp KZ 750 motorcycles, followed by two Sonderkraftfahrzeug 234 "Puma" armored cars.
The motorcycles were equipped with sidecars, and each carried a passenger. The drivers were all decked out in vintage leather helmets, dark brown leather jackets, black skirts, and tall riding boots. Conversely, their passengers were dressed more utilitarian in work shirts, tank tops and shorts. Presumably, they were mechanics.
Roman was impressed, not only with the immaculate timing of their arrival, but the skill of the drivers and how they all kept a tight arrow formation on approach. As they came to a halt, the lead motorcycle whipped past him, then made a sharp u-turn with tires screeching, coming about to park as close to the train car as possible.
The driver of the bike was a cheerful-looking girl with dark blue eyes, her messy auburn hair all but completely hidden under her helmet. She called out loudly. "Lieutenant Hunter, I presume?"
Marveling over the sweet machine being handled so fluently by a girl with an equally sweet, familiar face, Roman nodded. "Excellent timing there, Ms. Akaboshi. You lot know how to make an entrance."
She tossed a girlish laugh at him as the engineering students jumped out of their sidecars and set to work on the flatbed's loading ramps. "Danke! I hope your crew is ready to follow us. The weather is good now, but we do have a storm approaching, so we should get underway before the window closes!"
With a nod, Roman threw on his headgear, pulling the padded leather hood firmly into place. "We won't keep you waiting, then." He turned and gave a hand signal to Aono to make ready, then proceeded to unhook the steel tow cable that held Roza in place.
Once done with the same cable at the rear of the vehicle, Aono threw a thumbs-up to the commander and called "Released!" before hopping back up to man his station.
With all secure up front, Roman jumped onto the piece of spare track bolted to the front of the vehicle, nimbly made his way onto the roof and lowered himself through the hatch of the commander's cupola, taking the preferred standing position so he could spot around the tank.
He hooked his headset into the intercom system and squeezed his throat mic a couple times to test. "Crew, report ready." His voice resounded inside the vehicle.
Momo took a deep breath, adjusted her monocle, and slapped the actuator for the electric starter, causing Roza's motors to buzz and hum in response as though the tank destroyer was calling out her readiness first.
After a quick check of her controls, she depressed the pedals for brake and clutch, opened the hand throttle, primed the oil pump, and watched the gauges. "Driver Kawashima, ready!"
Erwin double-checked the breech and travel-lock, then took her seat. "Gunnery ready!"
"Munitions ready-go!" Aono rapped his knuckles on the bulkhead, signaling to the commander.
Confirming that the order was complete, Roman nodded. "Engine start!"
"Affirmative!" With gauges reading nominal pressure, Momo hit the ignition button. The V-12 diesel rumbled to life, coughing a thick black cloud of exhaust from the twin tailpipes as it cleared its throat.
The sight and sound of the convoy and now the awakening tank destroyer were quite the spectacle to various onlookers, who stopped to spectate and take pictures as the Puma drivers, while waiting for things to start rolling, were doing donuts in their nimble machines.
Positioned well away from the end of the ramp, one of the engineering students stood directly in Roza's line of travel, and waved her arms to signal forward.
"Full elevation!" Roman called.
Erwin engaged her controls and spun them with everything she had, taking the cannon up to its maximum angle of twenty degrees. It was meant to prevent the barrel from smashing into the ground upon egress. "Elevation full!" She answered.
"Forward!"
With legs shaking as she kept the heavy clutch engaged, Momo wrestled the gear selector forward, released the clutch, and lifted her foot off the service brake.
With a lurch, Roza began to move – backward, climbing noisily over the stops meant as a precaution against accidental rolling. The entire vehicle wobbled, each suspension housing clanging loudly as the road wheels would lift and fall over their obstacles.
This was met with a gasp and a panic reaction, both from Momo and the spectators. Watching her view shift through the open driver's hatch, she hurriedly closed the hand throttle and yanked back hard on both steering handles to brake, causing the vehicle to yaw to the left as its roll was arrested.
However, her actions also resulted in stalling the engine, and Roza sputtered back into slumber, resting awkwardly on top of the stops. The flatbed, now off-balance, began to tilt backward with its load, the ramp rising dramatically off the platform. The whole setup resembled a see-saw.
"It… what happened?! It was forward, right?" Momo yelled out in confusion. She then began to hit the starter repeatedly, every attempt ending in vain as the engine refused to turn. Anxiety quickly began to mount, and her eyes started to water. "I… I don't know… I don't remember what to do!"
Roman could hardly see what she'd done from where he was, but could venture a guess as he looked skyward – involuntarily, as the flatbed's teetering had the tank destroyer and himself at a pronounced angle. He cleared his throat, speaking in an unsettlingly pleasant and relaxed manner. "Momo, enhance your calm. Now, check fuel valve, wait fifteen seconds. Team, lend her a hand while we wait."
Momo shakily nodded and pulled the throttle back open. She was bewildered as to why she'd decided to cut the fuel flow in the first place. Utter panic, utter panic… She repeated in her head.
Erwin peered in over Momo's shoulder and pointed: "Momo, shift to neutral. And to go forward, shifter moves back, to here."
"Wh-why is it like that? Back for forward? Are you trying to play a joke on me right now?"
The blonde shook her head. "I wouldn't dream of it. It's Soviet. More needn't be said."
Wrestling the gear shifter as she was told, Momo grit her teeth, grumbling much to Erwin's satisfaction. "Damned Soviets…"
Aono piped in as well, leaning over the gun breech, smile on his face. "Want to go over the starting order together? Like ABCs?"
Momo nodded, her cheeks flushing cherry red from embarrassment, as though she hadn't set foot inside a tank before. She'd even had time in the driver's seat of the SU-100, but somehow all of her knowledge had flown away from her. His sunny disposition made her want to jump up and punch him, but she stifled the urge. "That actually would… really help."
"Good! I'll start with throttle… Riko-san, go next!"
Erwin proudly crossed her arms. "Brake."
"C-clutch." Said Momo.
"Starter."
"Pump."
"And… ignition?"
Aono shook his head profusely. "Nooo! What must you do if you don't want to anger the tank gods?"
The three of them pondered it for a few seconds. Then they all answered in unison:
"That's it!"
Hearing this, Roman looked down, a slight curiosity arching his brows. "Once more, engine start. Crank until it comes on. And if not, there is the backup. Or we can all get out and push."
*HONK*
With the starter chattering away for a few seconds the engine coughed, sputtered, and then started back up with a series of pops and bangs, sparks and clouds of smoke belching out of the exhaust. The diesel roared like an angry bear.
Roman smirked and nodded, grabbing a handle in the cupola to stabilize himself. "Forward and right. Use your clutches."
"Clutch down, pull back to first, and off… release brake…" Momo coached herself. As she let off the service brake, the tank destroyer crept forward, tracks shrieking as they came back over the stops, struggling for purchase. Finally breaking free, the machine dropped back down with a bang.
The see-saw quickly righted itself with 31 tons of weight being rapidly dispersed. The KMM engineering student had to run back several meters as the loading ramp slammed back down onto the concrete train platform, sending sparks showering everywhere.
Inside, Erwin and Aono clapped. "That's it, Momo-chan! Go get it!" Aono hollered, holding on for dear life as the cabin shook with the impact.
"Hah… Okay." Momo let out a heavy breath, sniffled back her tears, and put her foot on the accelerator, tightening her grip on the steering handles. "Here we go."
Walking backward, the engineering student waved Roza down, then stepped nimbly aside after the vehicle had finally touched down on solid ground. She then signaled Momo to take a left turn before running off to assist with final preparations.
"Good, keep it straight! Keep it rolling." Called Roman, only now noticing the attention they had gathered from the station. There was an odd amount of applause from those who'd stopped to watch the spectacle, and he simply threw them a nod.
The Pumas took positions – one in front, one in rear – as they led the tank destroyer on a path out of the station, through a long dark service tunnel that would eventually lead to the streets.
With the lead Puma keeping a significant distance in front of them, Hunter's crew gradually built up to Roza's top speed. "Stay with them the best you can, Momo! Full forward!" Roman felt the wind whipping past his face as they gained speed and the engine roared. He felt a familiar and welcome energy running through him as he sat high above the ground, with the best seat in the house.
Momo continued to coach herself, her eyes now determined, and her voice all but silent. "Down on the clutch, shift to third…"
Once the engineering students had finished their work and mounted up, the motorcycle detail headed off at high speed, racing to join the escort. They were easily able to catch up by the time the convoy had made it to the open streets, zooming to the very front of the formation to run interference. As they would approach motorists ahead, the motorcycles would weave across the lanes like they owned the street, marauding the cars into making room.
For the more stubborn ones, the Puma in the lead would assert its dominance, blaring its horn and flashing its lights, cannon pointing into rear windows. Similarly, the rear Puma would weave from lane to lane, preventing any vehicles from overtaking the convoy – a common tactic for a VIP detail. That day, the urban sprawl of Kumamoto would get a taste of the Nishizumi Style; the convoy would keep moving forward, no matter the cost.
As the lead Puma radioed back, Roman would listen to the reports coming through his headset. He pressed his throat mic again for the PA. "Left turn ahead. Easy speed. Don't lean on it too hard."
The intersection ahead was busy and flowing, and the escort group descended on it like a pack of wolves, boldly blocking off cars from proceeding. At first they were aggressively honked at, but the horns went silent as the drivers beheld the Soviet war machine bearing down on them with its own horn blaring.
Rounding the corner, Momo pulled back hard on the left steering tiller with both hands, getting a feeling for how much force it took to engage – or rather, disengage the engine clutch on that side of the vehicle. At first she had confidence, as she'd made a slight right coming off the train car and had no issues.
However as physics would dictate, a vehicle weighted heavily toward its front and to the right required more attention on a surface with little to no give – swift braking, with a possible loss of traction on the asphalt. She hadn't prepared to drive on asphalt!
Hence, even at reduced speed, the tank destroyer leaned forward during the turn, lowering its weight in the rear and breaking contact with the ground. Momo clenched her teeth as she watched the world outside her hatch continue to move against her will, and put all her weight into throwing the tiller back forward, regaining control but at a crooked heading.
With their tail end coming within inches of chewing the front end of a Beemer, Roman looked blankly at the ashen-faced driver before hitting his radio. "Having trouble down there, Momo?" We're gonna get sued, I know it.
"What is this shit?! Why does it pull right so much?!" She yelled in response.
"You've got speed, and a lot of weight up front to compensate for."
"...I know you didn't just insult me!"
He rolled his eyes. "Big gun. Lotta weight. Prepare your left turns in advance. Stamina, Momo, stamina."
With the rear Puma now zooming ahead to take the lead, the intersection was cleared. The motorcycles caught up and came back around, assuming their earlier positions while the previous lead vehicle took the rear.
"These guys are good… really good!" Remarked Aono, who was craning himself around in his hatch, catching all the action.
With KMM doing their job so fluently, Roman was able to take a breath and survey the surroundings, same as Aono had been doing. All the weight moving down the street was causing the ground to rumble, making some car alarms chirp, others to go off. It put a sadistic smile on his face.
He lowered himself down for a minute, checking the situation inside the fighting compartment. "All good down here, ladies?"
Erwin and Momo were just barely visible over the gun breech, both of them leaned far forward as the former coached the latter. The blonde looked up at him, responding curtly before going back to her task. "Coming along swimmingly." It was obvious that she was giving all she could toward instructing, so he let her be.
The fighting compartment was uncomfortably cramped, more than usual. Even the commander's station, which was arguably the most uncomfortable in a Soviet vehicle – a feat in itself – was a tighter squeeze with all of the baggage taking up space. There was little room for Roman to put his legs in normal circumstances, but there was zero chance of being able to sit down comfortably now.
Just as well; it wasn't the time to relax. He grabbed his binoculars from a stash spot and returned to his standing position, using them to look ahead as a warning tone sounded through his headset.
"Achtung, achtung! Prepare to slow! Traffic block ahead, no diversion!" The Puma ahead reported.
Through his binoculars, he could see the full picture: a very busy intersection, two blocks ahead, was queueing up with cars and trucks, with heavy traffic flowing in the opposite direction. Their motorcade would have to do the unthinkable and stop.
Everything good comes to an end, I suppose. He pressed his throat mic. "Slow to half, prepare for a stop."
Momo had done alright with shifting up, but felt her knowledge leave her again; she knew she'd have to downshift to slow correctly. "It's… down, right?" She asked, eyes widening more and more as she spotted the approaching traffic herself through the driver's hatch.
"Left and up." Erwin corrected her.
Momo rolled her eyes, clenching her teeth. "Of course it would be up!"
The diesel roared as the vehicle started to slow. Roman kept a watch on what was ahead through his binoculars. He expected that the motorcycle detail would finally acquiesce to traffic laws and Murphy's law, along with the Puma.
However that wasn't the plan; with Koume leading, the three motorcycles made a sudden peel to the right – into oncoming traffic lanes. Horns started to blare, cars and trucks moving left and right to dodge the trio and the pursuing armored car.
You're kidding me. "Seems we're not stopping." He called. He calculated quickly, knowing that things were going to get very tight. "Stay with them at half-speed. Watch the cannon!"
"Wha-what?" He heard Momo yell. "Are you… are they crazy?"
"Stay with them." He repeated. With a three meter – nearly eleven foot – overhang created by the cannon, it was probable that they could skewer cars like a kebab. Let's hope this doesn't get expensive.
They proceeded to bear right, staying as close to the group as they could manage. The sound of car horns blaring became heavier as they entered a maelstrom with the escort parting traffic like the Red Sea.
"Halfway, halfway!" Erwin commanded Momo, watching as the driver pulled on the steering tiller with both hands again, almost locking the tracks on the starboard side of the vehicle. The view through the driver's hatch shifted strongly to the right and filled with the image of oncoming vehicles. "Forward right, full left and off!"
Momo slammed the right tiller forward and went for the left, following Erwin's coaching to the letter, straining with how much force it was taking to make so many quick maneuvers.
"Off! Off! Off!" Erwin slapped her shoulder. As before, the motion of the vehicle moving to the left would result in a slight under-steer as inertia came into play. This was arrested by the left tracks re-engaging. "Good, good!"
"Keep it up." Called Roman, the flaps of his hood waving as the wind from a passing box truck swept past them within inches. "Try to close the gap. Full ahead!"
With the intersection fast approaching, the two armored cars zipped ahead, showing an intense level of recklessness as they used their mass and their imposing appearance on marauding approaching vehicles into making way. They then proceeded to block approaching traffic lanes.
Roman couldn't believe his eyes; the hair on the back of his neck stood on end as a large bus came screeching to a halt with horn blaring, stopping just short of battering one of the Pumas. Multiple calls came at once through his headset, overriding one another, but he got the message. "Left turn ahead. Sharp left."
"Not another damned left!" Screamed Momo.
Koume and her motorcycles entered the intersection, breaking hard to the left. There was barely enough room for them, as traffic had halted in mid-transition.
The tank destroyer was over three meters wide, making squeezing through a greater challenge. To top off the problem: they had reached full speed trying to keep up with the escort. Momo could see this as well as the commander, and sweat ran profusely down her temples from the stress.
Erwin, however, was far from shaken. She found an odd satisfaction with herself as she placed her hand firmly on Momo's left shoulder. "Now."
The clutch was kicked, and the diesel screamed. In one motion Momo downshifted, and pulled back heavily on the left tiller – only this time, she let off as soon as she felt the vehicle start to slide. The left tracks went to neutral, and the motion was more arrested, controlled as they drifted, narrowly dodging the stopped cars.
"That's it." Erwin approvingly rapped her fist on Momo's shoulder, grinning smugly.
Roman panned himself around, catching a deathly look in Aono's eyes – the loader had gone all but completely silent, bracing himself for impact. However there was no damage to see, and they let out a collective breath.
With the pair of Pumas now taking up the rear, the tank destroyer raced along on the heels of the motorcycles as they attempted to part heavy traffic again. However, their luck had run short, and there was no way of getting down the next street without doing massive property damage. Both sides of the road were taken up by slow-moving cars, and they were unlikely to budge.
Koume made a pronounced gesture toward the right – through a city park, and the other riders agreed, gunning their engines and racing ahead through the gates, beeping their horns as they proceeded down a paved path.
"The hell with that!" Momo yelled at the top of her lungs, seeing the gesture from her seat. Her body was already strained from the few hard maneuvers she'd had to execute. Anything beyond that would be sheer luck for her to pull off.
"Stay. With. Them." Roman asserted slowly. As reckless a practice it would be to pull off, he knew that there was no other way. After all, there was a storm approaching.
At least, that was what he told himself for justification as he waved his arms, rocking heavily from side to side as Roza bounded over a curb. There were a number of people on the ground who were enjoying a nice Saturday morning in the park, and they only paid a slight bit of concern and annoyance as the motorcycles roared through. It was only when the dark-olive tank destroyer popped out of the trees that they decided to scramble for cover.
"GET OUTTA THE WAY!" Roman hollered in English, forgetting for a moment who his target audience was. He scanned ahead, then ducked, covering his head. "Shit!"
The tree branches were rather low, and he only had a second to drop down before the commander's hatch took a chomp out of them, showering leaves and twigs down on his shoulders as they fell into the vehicle with him. He found himself on his back, having falling awkwardly down onto the commander's chair.
Struggling with the controls, Momo and Erwin could only offer furtive, inquisitive glances before concentrating on the task. "Can't see! Can't see!" Momo shrieked, beeping the horn sporadically.
Aono still had his footing and a good view out from his loader's hatch. "Right, right!" He yelled.
The tracks leapt over large tree roots, making the commander's job of standing back up even more difficult as the fighting compartment rattled like a Yahtzee cup. The tree they belonged to shook accordingly, showering leaves like rain, being missed by only half a meter.
"Left!" Aono yelled again before ducking down himself, a tree branch narrowly missing his head.
They'd gone off the path, and were only moments away from bashing the barrel into another tree. Yet they narrowly avoided it as the tracks dug into the grass, making the vehicle lean heavily to the right before finding the path again and righting itself, tossing Roman against the gun breech. Good thing we're not firing this thing. Roman patted the cold steel of the breech before finding his feet, clambering back up into the cupola.
"Stairs! Stairs!" Aono shouted.
The exit gate to the park was ahead. The motorcycles took a narrow foot path up and out, which was too narrow for the destroyer. They had only one option, and it was coming up fast.
"Downshift, slow half..!" Roman cut himself off and dropped back down, making sure that his fingers wouldn't get smashed by the hatch with the violent motion that was coming.
Momo was able to downshift once more, but the stairs were hit at full speed, wrenching all crew but herself out of their positions and tossing them about the fighting compartment. Aono was nearly catapulted out of the loader's hatch, but his feet snagged on something – thankfully – and he was cast down onto the floor, with Erwin's suitcase landing on top of his belly.
Erwin lifted out of her seat, her field marshal's cap absorbing most of the impact that would have been taken by her head as she made contact with the roof. It was then her turn to be thrown against the gun breech, where she looked wide-eyed at the commander, who was dangling from two grab handles in the cupola, while the rest of his body was behind the seat, the back of which jabbing into his lower ribs.
"Sorry!" Was all that Momo could utter before clenching her teeth as the vehicle violently raised to a perpendicular position, then slammed back down with tracks scraping as they made a rapid climb. She nailed the accelerator, hoping that at the very least, they wouldn't lose power and slide back down.
Luckily, after a second or two, everything settled out. The springs for the Christie suspension creaked plaintively as pressure was released, and soon the vehicle was back to a horizontal position on a mostly deserted street, having negotiated the obstacle with only superficial damage, mostly to the crew's pride.
"Well… that was fun…" Aono choked from where he lay on the floor, pushing the heavy suitcase off of himself. "Erwin, whaddya got in here? Germans?"
"Ha. Ha." Erwin eased herself back into her seat, surveying herself for injuries – thankfully, there were none, other than her cap being turned completely sideways, which was easily fixed.
Roman wheezed, easing himself into a crouching position as he let go of the handles he'd clung to and pressed a hand to his chest, where his ribs felt as though they may be bruised. "Call out! Kawashima!"
"I… I'm fine!" Momo stuttered.
"Matsumoto!"
"Functioning."
"Oono!"
Aono gave a thumbs-up, rolling over to stand. "A-okay."
Satisfied, Roman lifted the hatch, which had slammed shut, and surveyed the street once more. Thankfully, nothing was ahead, other than the motorcycles.
"Let's not do that again." He said, pressing his throat mic only to realize that the wires had completely ripped themselves out of his headset. Just as well, he supposed.
There were no further incidents, and by the time they'd arrived at Kuromorimine South, the airship had already begun to spin up its engines in preparation for departure once the tank destroyer and all involved parties were aboard, ahead of the approaching storm coming off the coast.
Built in an old elementary school, Kuromorimine South consisted mostly of offices, with some classrooms here and there. It was mostly meant for administrative and logistical services, as the true school itself was aboard Graf Zeppelin, the schoolship.
That being said, there were still students in attendance, a number of which were present as the convoy approached. The girls were noticeably puzzled by the sight of a Soviet machine rumbling toward their school, surrounded by a detail of German equipment.
They were further surprised to see a male commander, and started whispering to each other. There's gonna be a whole lot more of that. Roman thought, catching the eyes of a few, weighing their gazes. Not immediately hostile, that's a good sign.
"Whoa! Holy shit!" Aono exclaimed as he beheld the airship that awaited. In comparison to the school buildings, it was much taller and easily visible from the street, but as the convoy entered the parking lot it became much more apparent just how massive the craft truly was.
Without much to do at her station, Erwin had popped her hatch open as well and stared at the dirigible with eyes just as wide as Aono's. "An LZ-127… Quite the impressive homage to Eckener." She marveled as her eyes traced over the craft's graceful lines, feeling as though she could get lost for days...
With the escort complete, the Pumas peeled off and returned to their garage while the trio of bikes moved aside. Koume waved the tank destroyer on toward the waiting maw of the gondola.
"Taking it up. Momo, slow to quarter forward!" Roman yelled, not having the intercom to assist him. "Take it slow this time."
The diesel roared as Momo downshifted, and the vehicle slowed as they neared the ramp. It was a strong incline, causing the tracks to skip for a moment before gaining purchase.
"Steady on the pedal!"
Momo held her breath as she leaned delicately on the accelerator, keeping the same rate of climb the best that she could.
Ten seconds was all it took to complete the climb, but it felt like a whole minute to the team. A collective sigh was made as they finally leveled out inside the airship.
Ahead, a student acting as loadmaster waved them in, guiding with orange-cone flashlights. She indicated a proper spot for the tank destroyer to pull into, then crossed her arms into a 'stop'. The vehicle soon came to an abrupt halt, rocking back and forth on its suspension.
"Alright, good job, everyone. Shutdown checklists, disembark and assemble." Roman lifted himself out of the cupola and made his way down to the ground. As much as he loved riding his tank, he felt equally happy to be out of it for the time being, thinking: That wasn't entirely terrifying.
"Close throttle. Set parking brake… and off the service brake." Finally, she was done. Momo sank backward into her seat, brain completely spent as Aono and Erwin provided applause.
Once they had fully dismounted, the four tankers stood by their machine as the motorcycle detail pulled in, parking their machines next to the now stationary and quiet tank destroyer. The friendly and cheerful Koume removed her helmet and shook her reddish-brown locks loose with a flourish as she approached Roman. "Well, that was quite a thrill, wasn't it? We finally meet, Senior Lieutenant."
"That was a nice little ride you took us on." He answered, shaking her hand. "Thought for sure somebody was going to call the authorities."
She winked, sticking her tongue out in mischievous and impudent way. "What would they do to stop us, I wonder?"
A bit of a firecracker. I like it. A lot. "Fair point. How about I introduce you to the crew?"
"Actually, why don't we all head inside, first? We can get better acquainted there, where it isn't so noisy."
Looking back to his team, he could see that there were no objections, especially not from Momo, who shot past him without encouragement, on shaky legs. "Please!" She cried, sweat running down her neck. "That clutch was so heavy! That wasn't at all like a pirouette, okay?"
Koume laughed, keeping a smile on her face as she walked off after her "Well, sounds like someone got a good workout, at least!"
"Fall in." He said, joining ranks with Aono and Erwin as they followed Koume and Momo inside. He patted their shoulders. "Good job, you two."
"Good job? More like 'good luck'!" They both thought.
*Rammstein - Stirb Nicht Vor Mir
