Girls Und Panzer: Fellow English From Abroad

II

(A/N italics is Japanese henceforth)

Rain hammered down, soaking the ground aboard the smaller carrier. The rain had been incessantly pounding onto the ship for several days now, making most of the ground outside of the town completely untraversable.

A storm like this posed no threat to a ship like the Ark Royal of his counterpart, however Commander Montgomery knew that the Glorious could have real trouble heading north to fight against Pravda. Sitting alone in the darkened bridge room, he attempted to plan a viable strategy for facing Katyusha.

He stood, gazing out from the bridge of the carrier, once the council room, now a planning room for the Sensha-Dō club.

He was not in charge of steering the ship, so he wasn't worried about the conditions he faced, however he had been eyeing the Kiev that drew ever closer.

Flipping his maps of the battlefield over, he gazed upon the navigational charts of the region, noting the narrow channel they would have to pass through to reach their destination.

Frowning, he felt a drowsiness hit him like a bullet, 3 AM rolling around, making him yawn involuntarily.

Anthony sighed, taking his cap from the corner of the table closest to the door, stepping out of the room, walking to his dormitory through the haze of the Arctic winds. 'At least the rain has stopped...'

Stars were nigh impossible to spot, the winds were stagnant, keeping the haze thick, and the rocking of the ship subsided as the Glorious pierced the Northern end of the storm. Snow started to replace the rain, marking the beginning of a cold spell for the British Carrier.

It was within an hour of dawn when the Montgomery heir opened the door to his dorm and noted the time. Blinking, he stretched, sitting on his bed and yawning. "Bloody hell.. Dawn already?"

Muttering this to himself, he lay in bed for the few hours of rest he would relish, at least, until his alarm revived him from his peaceful slumber.

Around 4 hours later, he sat up, wearing his bedclothes of track pants and a long sleeved shirt, looking at his blaring alarm with extreme distaste.

Bringing his hand down on it, he forced himself out of bed, into his Sensha-Dō uniform and to the school cafeteria for a quick meal before he was due to meet with Katyusha and her aides.

Anthony looked at the port they had docked at on his way to the cafeteria, acknowledging how bloody frigid it was. He was wearing a British greatcoat with winter lining, not too dissimilar to Russian winter coats and he was bloody glad he had it.

Just on the short walk from his dorm to the cafeteria, he had discovered that snow was annoying to traverse and several dozen centimetres had fallen overnight.

Just as he was debating if he should have a word with the motor club, a member of said motor club approached him, holding an envelope from its leader, a redhead named Emily Charleston.

While many a student may have found this method of communication annoying, there was much respect given to these letters, as they were so widely used by the student body. It was a universal trust basis, you don't mess with my mail, I don't mess with yours.

Anthony took the letter and broke the wax seal of the house of Charleston, barely registering the crest. He nodded, his lips a thin line across his features. The 171 Sycamore would be ready for the trip to Pravda school, who's ranks had almost doubled in the time between tournaments.

Dismissing the messenger, he stepped inside the cafeteria, the student body present reacting simultaneously as the cold wind entered the building, by leaning away and glancing at the newcomer.

It was barely past 8 in the morning, and most of the students were still in bed, so the few hundred or so were those who were known as the early risers, and had become a tight knit community as such.

After a quick trip along the buffet, Anthony sat down at a table reserved for Sensha-Dō club members and the heads of other clubs. Snow was falling slightly heavier now, a cause for concern.

Calling for a messenger, he penned a quick note to the student council leader, Ella, for a weather forecast, before sealing the envelope and sending the messenger on her way.

He was not surprised when the response was that the snow was to only get worse (And there may have been some subtext to stop waking her up so bloody early), nor was he when Rosebay's head of the mechanics club sat opposite him.

"Mornin' 'Monty"

"Charleston."

"What's gotcha down?"

Sliding the forecast over to the redhead, Anthony sighed. "Weather. Russian Weather."

She frowned, hunching over her breakfast, resting her chin in the palm of her left hand. "That could be an issue. 171 is a good heli, but she's not made for extreme conditions. Try and be back before midday, or else, you might find yourself shipped back here."

Sighing, Anthony bit into a scone, frowning, before muttering to himself. Applying a generous amount of cream and jam, he took his second attempt at eating it, far happier with his second attempt.

"Anthony. Are you hearing me?"

The Montgomery heir nodded, wiping his mouth of crumbs. "Yes Em. I'll be back by midday, weather and people providing."

He stood up, taking the beret from the table next to him. "Check up on my A34's breech, there's a bit of damage to the latter half of the chamber. The gunsight is a few feet high as well, I was going for Darjeeling's engine bay."

Emily raised her eyebrows. "That was your shot at the end? Bloody good one I'll say."

"Ive done worse and better. I should be off, morning Em." With that, Anthony fastened the beret to his head, picked up his thermos of tea, stepped out from behind the bench and made for the school's helipad.

At the bright and early hour of 9 am sharp, the Bristol 171 Sycamore lifted off from the helipad and made for the large school building of Pravda Co-Ed High School.

Sitting in the cargo/passenger bay, Anthony mulled over his thoughts, mentally planing what to mention, to avoid and how he wanted to move the conversation. He had been warned to not mention Katyusha's height, and while he admitted he was tall, standing at 5'11, he was not expecting the 127cm or 4'2 girl to be the commander of the Sensha-Dō team.

To her credit, Katyusha was actually taller, when sitting on the shoulders of the girl Anthony suspected to be Nonna or Klara, as he did not yet know them apart.

Stepping from the 171 Sycamore, he was acutely aware of the way all eyes were drawn to him as he exited the British designed vehicle, wearing a British uniform in a distinctly Russian prefecture, Aomori.

"Zdravstvuyte Tovarishch Katyusha." Anthony paused slightly to roll his tongue in his mouth, Russian always left his tongue feeling too big for his mouth. "I'm afraid that's where my knowledge of Russian ends."

Katyusha, takings advantage of her superiority in height, held her hand down. "So you did decide to show up, I hadn't expected that. You were lucky I waited as long as I did. I would've gotten Nonna to take me inside in a minute."

"Nonna, got it..." He muttered to himself in English, to the confusion of many a student, including Katyusha, yet excluding Nonna.

"I see you know English, Nonna... Forgive me, but that is your name, correct?" Anthony crossed his fingers that he didn't screw up already.

Nonna paused for a second, and Anthony relaxed, releasing the breath be had held back, realising she was translating his words.

"I do... Not my first language, forgive my slowness... Correct Commander, I am Nonna."

Anthony nodded, and, at the annoyed request of Katyusha, left the cold landing pad and moved indoors.