The loud engine of the Sentinel growled as it drove along the flat plains of Tottori. The arrowhead that her team was previously organised in now turned into an hourglass shape, with the Stuarts in front and the Grants behind. Wallaby looked out to the battlefield, towards the two leading Stuarts. The left Stuart, what she could recognise as the M3A1 model, had its hatch closed, as Eyre entered the tank, while the Stuart on the right which she identified as the more modern M3A3 had Victoria confidently poking out of the hatch. Wallaby looked behind her, to her Grants. She had been impressed with their performance, since she had assigned relatively new crews to her medium tanks. Slipping back inside the turret of her Sentinel, Wallaby grabbed the radio set before turning it on.
"All right, girls," she said. "We have no bloody clue where St. Gloriana is right now, or what they are doing. Stuarts, you are our forward scouts. I want you two to get to that ridge and scout it out, and report any tanks you see back to me. Do not fire on any of their tanks, even when you can. Grants, form up on me, Formation Bilby."
She received a multitude of replies from the other tanks, before the Stuarts rushed ahead, leaving behind a very large dust trail. Meanwhile, the two Grants closed in, as one sped up to slot itself in front of the command Sentinel. Wallaby got out of her turret once again to inspect her formation. Looking at the rear Grant, she could see the tank drift slightly to the left, as the turret turned from left to right waiting for enemies to arrive.
"Grant 1," she spoke over her radio. "You are drifting slightly to the left. Correct by around two degrees, so you don't fall out of formation."
Wallaby received a call of confirmation from the Grant, before it moved back into formation, wiggling as the driver corrected her trajectory. Suddenly, her radio came to life, as it began to speak.
"This is Victoria. Me and Eyre have reached the ridge, and we have spotted St. Gloriana's tanks. They have a Churchill, a Crusader, and three Matildas, I couldn't tell you the exact models. Anyways, they're heading for the ridge as well, so I suggest you hurry up and get here. Victoria out."
Wallaby, now confident about the enemy's composition and position, grabbed her radio microphone. "Scout tank, stay in position. All other tanks increase speed to 30 km/h. We should be able to get to the ridge before them, but look out for any tanks."
Soon, the ridge line became visible, as Wallaby spotted a small path leading to the top. Gesturing to her driver, her Sentinel turned to enter this path, with the two Grants following her. Climbing up the path, the Sentinel's three Cadillac engines growled as more power was sent to the transmissions. Suddenly, her radio crackled to life again. Picking it up, she could hear cannons fire and a desperate Eyre calling over the radio.
"This is Eyre, the enemy has engaged us. Can you hurry up? We need support here."
Now receiving the news of the enemy engagement, Wallaby got back into the turret of the Sentinel, before picking up her radio microphone.
"Wallaby to scout tanks, how many enemies are there?" she asked over the radio as she heard frantic cannon and machine gun fire from her Stuarts. A long pause consumed the entire tank before the radio activated again.
"Uh… there's the Churchill sitting at the back, and three Matildas. No idea where the Crusader is though."
Wallaby and her tanks soon reached the peak of the hill they climbed, now in sight of the Stuart tanks. The area was heavily cratered from the guns of St Gloriana's tanks, as shell after shell was rained on the unsuspecting light tanks. Looking out of her periscope, she could see St Gloriana's tanks, sitting on the other side of the ridge, stationary. Coming to a stop, her tank force aimed their guns at the stationary Matildas. Tapping Platypus on the shoulder, she silently gave her gunner the sign to fire, as 5 shells were fired at the Matildas from her tank platoon. All four shots from the Grants missed, kicking up a huge dust cloud behind their targets, while Platypus' 2 pounder shell made its way to one of the Matildas, bouncing off the heavy front plate. Now with back up, the Stuarts emerged from their cover as their small 37mm guns fired, its shells ricocheting off the thick frontal armour of St. Gloriana's. Firing shell after shell, both sides engaged shots, to no effect. Suddenly, through the view of the commander's periscope, Wallaby could see the previously stationary Matildas move, towards the bridge, while the Churchill filled the Matildas' old place. The 75mm cannon of the Churchill discharged, as the shell fired hit the side of the closest Grant's turret, bouncing off but leaving quite a mark. Turning her tank towards the Matildas, Wallaby felt her tank rock momentarily. Getting out of her tank, she saw the Crusader racing along their flank, as it passed the furthest Grant and weaved its way in between Koala Forest's tanks. The high velocity 57mm cannon of the Crusader fired, shearing off the massive infantry support cannon of the closest Grant, its shards flying in every direction. Now, the Matildas had made their way over the bridge, before beginning another bombardment of Koala Forest's tanks. Shells flew towards the tanks, the 40mm 2 pounder shells of the Matilda smacking against the tough armour of the Grant. Now, the Crusader drifted around Wallaby's tanks, as Victoria turned her turret towards it, discharging a 37mm shell into the Crusader. The shell found its home in the Crusader's drive sprocket tearing its left drive sprocket and track off, immobilizing the tank. Aiming its gun towards the large chassis of the Crusader, preparing to knock it out for good. Suddenly, the small scout tank shook as a 40mm shell from the leading Matilda ricocheted off the turret of the Stuart, knocking it off target. Now panicking, Wallaby hastily picked up the microphone.
"Everyone, get out of here!" she yelled over the microphone, as her Sentinel sped down the path that she originally took, along with her Grants. Her Stuarts took a different path, disappearing out of sight.