First off in this update, I would like to give a shout out to my first follower, tomcatace99, I'm glad you like the story so far, and thank you to the reviewer who pointed out my grammatical errors. Now, for the second part, PROMISES. 1, I am working on my grammar, and will continue to get better, this is actually like 2% practice for the English part of my ASVAB; 2, at some point in the future I will be joining the navy, when that day comes, a two-month break will ensue, due to us not being allowed electronics in boot camp; 3, I will be making at the VERY least 50 chapters (my goal is 100); 4, I promise to do my best to keep the chapters consistent, if I err please tell me, reviews help a lot; and 5, a more personal promise, I will not be adding fan suggested sub plots, my buddy tried that and it got way out of hand. The promises out of the way, I would love to hear your feedback, grammatical notes are welcome, I get there are people who can't stand to see one slight error, but please do try to be constructive about this. NOW WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, OUR NEXT CHAPTER
Note: Grandmama Big is only Mama big in this chapter because she is so young
Chapter 5 Alphonse, a War, and a Fox
The great territorial war ravaged the two nations of The United Mammal Federation and the communistic Union of Mammals Freedom.
In a four engine bomber sat a sixteen-year-old fox, known simply as Frankie to the crew, he looked to his right to the pilot of the aircraft, a twenty-one-year-old bear, his leather jacket sported a black patch with the words, "Capt. Alphonse Gregory Ivanovich."
The fox chuckled, "Every damn time they send us out we come back on two engines and full of so many holes, it looks like the bomber is a flying block of fancy cheese."
Alphonse stifled a laugh, "This is very true, my friend."
The fox's grin faded and he punched the instrument panel, "I just…I just wish Jim hadn't taken up the turret." He was very angry now, "That damn unionist flak, he didn't even stand a chance."
The bear looked at his partner and smacked him on the back of his head, "YOU THINK JIM WAS WANTING TO DIE?!"
The bear's look made the fox shrink, "IF JIM WAS NOT SHOOTING WE WOULD NOT BE HERE TO SPEAK OF HIM FONDLY, GIVING HIS LIFE WAS THE MOST VALIANT OF THINGS HE COLD HAVE EVER DONE."
The bear's accent heavily marred his speech, but the point was clear, "Sorry, Al, I just wish I could hear another one of his crappy jokes."
The fox's face fell, now looking at the floor.
The bear took a deep breath, "The war is almost over, Jim, Allen, Colonel Red, and Phillips, their deaths will not be in vain, we will be seeing the end of this war soon."
The new gunners filed in and looked fearfully at their positions, Alphonse guessed that they couldn't be a day over sixteen.
The refueling and patching went by slowly while Alphonse instructed the gunners on proper firing technique, and once the repairs were finished the bomber was instructed to take off and make its way to the nearest raid.
Alphonse revved the engines up and looked at his appointed co-pilot and gunners.
"Castor 3 clear for take-off," the voice crackled over the radio, to Alphonse, it sounded more like the call to his death.
The heavy marvel of engineering rolled down the runway, propellers thundering menacingly, lift-off.
Several hours had passed before they caught sight of their group, slowly approaching and waggling their wings in salute to show that they were friendly. Alphonse skillfully maneuvered the behemoth into one of the many V-shaped formations and set the throttle to cruising speed.
"I want two men on lookout and two being on the turrets, two hour shifts."
The gunner crew snapped to attention, "YES, SIR."
Alphonse looked ahead through the bomber's plexi-glass windshield and thought, "Those poor damned souls, they won't last but a few minutes in a real fight."
The flight went smoothly for another hour, then suddenly the bomber to his right erupted in flamed and plunger to its earthen fate.
"GUNNERS TO ALL POSITIONS," the bear's voice carried easily over the roar of the engines.
Within seconds all the .50 caliber machine guns were firing. The bear was sweating, the order was to stay formation and wait for backup, but the nearest squadron of fox tails was an agonizing thirty minutes away, even with the amazing speed of their dual engine fighters.
Bombers were slowly falling from the sky as the Unionist planes easily picked of their targets, the bear dove the plane beneath cloud cover, "GUNNER CREW GET YOUR PARACHUTES ON, HURRY!"
Obediently they strapped on the bags and tightened them.
"BAIL, NOW!"
All four of the gunners jumped rhythmically out of the escape hatch. The bear turned on the primitive auto-pilot, "Now your turn, Frankie, I will be jumping behind you."
The fox knew what was up. As they strapped on their parachutes, Frankie took off his lucky ring and handed it to the bear.
"I know what you were planning to do, those fighters won't chase a bomber flying in an unflinching path, they will hit the 'chutes."
The bear chuckled and Frankie spoke once more, "Were you'll be going you're going to need as much luck as possible."
The bear looked at the fox, confused as can be, "This is a special thing Frankie."
The fox looked solemnly and saluted his superior, "that is why I want you to have it sir, you're going to need a lot of luck to lead those gunners to survival."
The bear was growing even more confused, "What are you sayi-," a large shudder of turbulence rattled the plane and knocked the bear off balance.
"I'm sorry Al," The fox lunged and pushed his captain out the escape hatch.
Alphonse could only watch in horror as his friend tried his best to dodge the nimble fighter planes in the heavy bomber, but it did no good. One by one, the engines burst into flame as the bomber started its fatal plunge.
The fighters, making sure to see the bomber's demise, followed its plunge; a fatal mistake. Frankie had scurried to the tail-gunner section when the final engine quit, they were all in his sights. Fire erupted from the barrels as Frankie brought the arrogant enemies down, laughing all the way.
The bomber hit the ground with a massive explosion. Alphonse's mind went numb until he was a few hundred feet above ground.
The bear lifted his legs and assumed a landing stance, and with a jarring landing he was back to his senses, "THE CREW!"
The bear looked around him and looked for any signs of life, but suddenly he heard a snap behind him. The bear drew a large revolver that looked as if it could qualify as an artillery weapon.
"LIGHTNING," he shouted the standard issue phrase for emergency landings.
"THUNDER," came the reply.
The large bear calmed and lowered his pistol.
"We need to find the nearest unit and join them," The bear told his crew. "You did grab the emergency rifles, didn't you?"
The gunners brandished the polished wood and steel weapons. "Good, only shoot if you are knowing that you can hit, we need to be saving the ammunition," the bear looked in the opposite direction of the crash, "We will head that way, we should be running into allies soon."
The group marched for several hours before finding an idle tank squadron.
"Captain Ivanovich requesting permission to use your radio for evacuation purposes," the sergeant looked at him, "Radios are down, but we have a light tank that we are sending back to base for turret repair, you can ride on that."
The bear looked at the tank, "Thank you, sergeant."
The group marched to the tents and grabbed some coffee before the long journey back to base.
The bear turned the golden ring that his friend claimed was "lucky" over and over, unable to forget the scene of the wrecked bomber. Once back at base, Alphonse was put on leave until a new plane could be found, but the war ended a month later, and Alphonse had never had the chance to fly again, he never got to avenge his friend.
He sat in his quarters, looking at the ring, "Your ring was lucky, Frankie," the bear began to tear up, "not a single enemy patrol was attacking us on the ground."
The bear took his friend's ring and put it on the beaded chain that held his service tags. Alphonse took a deep breath, "No more death, no more killing, I will never harm again, we've won, but at a terrible price," the bear could barely choke out his words as he sat on the edge of his bed.
A few weeks later, Alphonse was sent back to his home. He lived in reclusiveness, only going out to buy food, or essentials, but one day he saw a large grizzly tormenting a polar bear that was at least a foot shorter than him, but what was in the polar bear's hands set every protective instinct in his body, it was a small rodent with brown hair.
Alphonse dropped his bags and ran at the grizzly, bringing what was more like a blow from a sledgehammer than a punch, to the side of the grizzly's head. The bear crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
"My, that was impressive," said a small voice.
"What? Oh, I am so sorry miss, I haven't done hand to hand since the war, it was sloppy at best."
The small rodent smiled, "No, it was very impressive, I a Mama Big, would you be interested in a job on my security detail?"
The bear looked at her solemnly, "I'm sorry, but I swore I would never kill again."
Mama Big chuckled and replied, "You don't have to kill, and besides, the way you dropped that grizzly, I am sure no one will mess with you."
The polar bear thought for a minute, "Alright, I will do it."
Mama Big's face lit up with joy, "Wonderful, I have a feeling that we are going to be good friends."