As the blackened sky mellowed into shades of soft navy and cobalt, faint traces of kicked up dust could be seen off in the distance, betraying the movements of British and Commonwealth supply trucks and reinforcements desperately trying to reach their destinations before the sun crested the horizon.

"Never on time anymore," Jonat noted with a tone of almost disappointment. "Two years ago they'd have moved an entire regiment right under our noses, and we'd not even notice until HQ got a changing of address card."

"Can't say we're much better anymore," replied Fox, nodding rearwards towards a thin column of acrid black smoke the rose high into the sky. "I guess they've been worn down just as hard as we have."

Fox's short range radio crackled to life.

"Oberstleutnant? "

"Stabsfeldwebel, what can I do for you this fine morning?"

"I hate to ruin your mood so early in the day, Sir, but Oberst Junker has decided to grace us with his presence. Reports are he'll be here by 1300 hours, sounds like command has been scheming again."

A subdued groan crept out of Fox's exhaust pipes.

"Scheiße. Alright Hania, I'm on my way down. Let next watch know they're to relieve Jonat and I at once and pull an extended shift. Also find the nearest Unteroffizier that doesn't look busy, and get him to scavenge whatever high-octane gasoline we can spare. Can't have the Oberst arrive without all the comforts of high command in place."

"Jawohl Herr Kommandant. Anything else?"

"Now you come to mention it, I want you on standby to rescue me if the Oberst becomes insufferable. Have Vogel take a recruit out on your patrol instead. Also remind him that if he intentionally loses another recruit in the desert, I'll have him court martialed. Danke Stabsfeldwebel."

"Of course, Sir."

As the radio silenced, the Heavy tank stared silently into the boundless sky. Why, he mused, given all of the space in the universe; the millions of blazing stars, spiraling galaxies and vast planets, did he have to suffer the company of Oberst Junker. Bloody aristocracy, all formalities and class, terrified to get their hands dirty. Fox's train of thought was suddenly derailed by a series of metallic clinking noises.

"I don't know what you're snickering at Jonat, i'm keeping you beside me the whole bloody time. I shall not suffer that man alone."

The snickering stopped.

—

"For the love of all that is holy and serene would you please keep up!" ranted Vogel as he came to a stop for the third time that hour. He was not patient at the best of times, and today seemed to be a particularly hot day.

"Yes Stabsfeldwebel, sorry Stabsfeldwebel. It's just… I find it difficult to keep up with a tank as magnificent at yours!" called out the young recruit he had in tow, who was some way behind by this point.

"First of all, enough with the persistent 'Stabsfeldwebel'ing. This isn't basic training anymore, and we are in the middle of the bloody desert. We've all been out here too long to care about protocol, I don't even want you to call me sir, just Vogel. Secondly, if you stopped getting lost in thought and started driving in straight lines, you might do a better job with the whole keeping up thing."

"Yes si… er… Vogel… sorry."

"And stop with the bloody apologising. Just keep your eyes out for the Inselaffe, and try to keep up. Hell, what was your name again?"

"…Ehrlichmann."

"Even your name is inconvenient," Vogel muttered under his breath as he revved the Luchs' engine and made off to continue the patrol. After a few moments of sitting there uncomfortably, the smaller Panzer I Ausf. C realised he should probably be following, and hurriedly set off to catch up.