Chaffee destroyed!
That wasn't all, though, because I saw a shot fly past me and got this radio message:
"End of the line for you, kid! You may have toasted my men, but now, it's time for you to get what you deserve!"
Rather than stopping to engage Able Leader, I kept going until I found a rail yard.
I took cover in the rail yard, hiding behind a building there.
In the meantime, I waited for Able Leader to come closer.
A few moments later, Able Leader emerged from the town.
His tank resembled a Terrible 29, but the turret looked different, smaller too.
In any case, I lined up my shot carefully, and…
BOOM!
Able Leader was still alive and taunted me over the radio:
"Good! Very good! I didn't think you'd do that much damage! You're still not gonna stop us, though!"
I backed away just as he fired a shot, which missed.
I waited for the cannon to reload, got the turret ready and lined up for another shot.
Unfortunately, I missed!
His next shot hit, but only bounced.
"Come on, give it up!" said Able Leader. "Do you even realize who you're dealing with, punk!?"
I certainly did, but it made little difference to me.
I went back out and lined up another shot at him.
He was quicker on the draw than me and hit Goliath, damaging it quite badly.
I hit him again, but despite the massive damage, all he got was a broken track.
Then, when I backed into cover, he called me on the radio again:
"Hey…hey Russki, you speak English?"
"Yes," I replied. "What do you want?"
Truth be told, I had become quite proficient at the English language lately.
However, a few things still evaded me, particularly slang, colloquialisms and technical jargon.
Anyways, Able Leader continued:
"Hey listen, I got a confession to make: I never really wanted to join the Army. See, the only reason I joined this outfit was because I accidentally sent a dirty letter to my mom that was meant for my sweetheart, so I'm just getting away until she forgets about the whole thing, see?"
"Er…OK…" I replied.
Personally, I thought this was a strange thing for him to tell me in the middle of battle.
While Soviet propaganda makers would have used this as some example of how Americans are stupid and promiscuous, it wasn't that big of a deal to me, strange as it was.
Besides, I'm sure at least a few of my former comrades in the Soviet Army had done some strange things themselves.
Anyways, after that confession, I talked to Able Leader myself:
"Listen, uh...Staff Sergeant Caruthers…was it? You and your comrades have fought bravely here today! I truly admire you Americans! Now, I have a proposal to you: I shall let you live if you will let me go. Do you agree?"
At first, Able Leader laughed and responded: "Good one! You Russkies sure know how to make people laugh!"
However, a few seconds later, he stopped laughing and became serious:
"Now, you listen here! I've come too far just to let you go! See, I know what's going on over there and I'm gonna put a stop to it, starting with you! Say your prayers, you bastard!"
"Please, can't we talk this over like men?" I replied. "You have fought with unwavering endurance here today! I offer you a chance for life! Surely, a land like America would miss you, would it not?"
"No truce! Either you die or I die, and let me tell you, boy, I'm not goin' anywhere! Whatever's happening in your country is your fault, so I'm going in to set things right, starting with you, rabble-rouser!"
"WAIT! Don't shoot! Look, I didn't want any of that to happen any more than you did! Believe me, I've been trying to stop that madness too! If you let me go, I promise I will never come back here again! Besides, you have sent for reinforcements, so I'm probably dead already!"
I got silence for a few seconds, but then he replied: "Well…all right. But if you don't clean up over there, I'm going to come over there myself and tear you to pieces, got it!?"
"I understand! Do svidanya, comrade!"
"Uh…yeah! Same to you, pal!"
With that, my opponent drove away and went out of town.
In the meantime, I drove back towards the main part of town and did my usual investigative work.
Not only were these men part of the 41st Armored Company, but they were part of a secret group that called themselves "Patriot Company".
According to a manifesto that I picked up from one of their crewmen, they believed that the reason that the wars escalated on the other half of the world is because the other nations were lacking in "proper American values" and that the key to peace was to conquer every other nation.
Judging by their logs and by their combat performance, it didn't seem like they'd had too much combat experience.
I disagreed completely with their manifesto.
First of all, I did not want to be conquered by the Americans, and second, stopping this madness wasn't a simple matter of taking over the world and forcing people to behave a certain way.
On the other hand, these folks weren't with W.G., so I suppose they were all right.
As I've mentioned earlier, only a few of their tanks were unrecognized, the first of these being a T20, a prototype medium tank that was apparently meant to replace the Sherman.
Another one was the T25/2, a tank destroyer based on the same chassis as the T20, but with a different drivetrain.
Oddly enough, their handbook mentioned another tank destroyer with the name "T25", but that one had no turret.
Finally, Able Leader's tank was a T32, a different version of the T29.
Naturally, I also called this one the "Terrible 32".
Before leaving, I drove into town, deciding that I had enough time to take in the sights.
After hiding Goliath in a bush, I had a look around, and I must say, it was interesting.
On the one hand, there were a number of brick buildings in town that looked pretty worn, and there were some rickety-looking shacks, but on the other hand, there were plenty of nice houses, too.
The cars here were different, too: Bigger and shinier than what we had in the Soviet Union.
They looked like cars that were fit for kings.
On that subject, I caught sight of an unusual car: One that was boxier, lower and longer than usual.
After inspecting both the exterior and interior, I found that it was called a "Bel Air", manufactured by a company called Chevrolet in 1972.
1972!?
This shouldn't be real!
Again, while I didn't know the exact year, I was certain, beyond all reasonable doubt, that it was not even the 1950s, never mind the 1970s.
According to a calendar I found in one house, the date was June 1944.
By my estimations, it had been two years since the Dark Times began.
Wow, I'm impressed that I've survived so long!
But that still doesn't answer the question: How did an automobile made in 1972 come to exist in 1944?
On second thought, it seemed stupid to me to try to ponder this, just as it would seem stupid to outsiders that such a thing could exist and the locals wouldn't give it a second look.
Now, all this surviving had made me hungry, so I searched for a restaurant or another place to find food.
Luckily, I found one, and it appeared that people had been eating here when the town had been evacuated.
I sat down at the counter, where a plate with a partially-eaten sandwich of some sort awaited me.
I started eating it, and it was delicious!
I never tasted anything like this before!
After a bit of reading and guesswork, I found out that this particular creation was called a "hamburger", and it was accompanied by a side dish known as "French fries" and a fizzy drink named "Coca-Cola".
Oh, if only we had this sort of food in the Soviet Union!
Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed a good dish of borscht, and I didn't mind cooking up random wildlife that I killed for survival, but I had yearned for something different, and this certainly filled the need!
Having filled this need, I took whatever random food items I could take and went back for Goliath.
However, just as I was about to leave the restaurant, I heard the sound of airplanes flying overhead.
Looking out the window, I saw that they were fighter planes.
Damn, those must be the reinforcements!
I waited until they flew away, then I got back to Goliath and started it up.
I had little trouble getting to the shore, where I found another ferry, so I loaded Goliath on and set sail for the Soviet Union.
Unfortunately, some of those fighter planes came back and spotted my ferry, opening fire with their machine guns.
The guns tore some holes through the deck, but failed to sink me or the ferry.
They also attempted to drop bombs, but very narrowly missed.
I had to do something!
Thinking quickly, I detached one of the DT machine guns from Goliath and used it as an anti-aircraft weapon.
I waited for one of the planes to turn around, and then opened fire, shooting it down.
I hit another one, but it was still flying.
I had also brought my PPSh-41 up on deck, so I used that in conjunction with the DT.
Another plane came in for a strafing run, but it too was shot down.
Two more to go!
The third one tried using its machine guns, but the bullets either missed me or dented my armor.
I managed to shoot this one down, too.
The fourth one wasn't so easy to take down, though.
I missed it and it peppered the deck with more machine gun bullets.
On its next run, it struck the ferry with a bomb, starting a fire.
Quickly, I went over to where Goliath – still not destroyed – was parked and grabbed a fire extinguisher from it, putting out the flames.
Luckily, the ferry was still holding together, so I returned to take on the last fighter plane.
Once again, I let loose with my DT machine gun, and it was out of action.
For the rest of the journey, I played it cautiously, trying to stay as far away from Alaska as possible.
Despite all the commotion I had caused, no other planes or ships attacked me, so I reached Vladivostok and from there, made my way to my hideout.
Overall, America seemed to have problems of its own, but it certainly felt like a nicer place to live than the Soviet Union.
Maybe one day, I'll get out of the Soviet Union and move there.
Of course, it may have to wait, since America has experienced another day that will live in infamy.
Criticism is gold. Negativity and nitpicking are pyrite.