Girls Und Panzer: Fellow English From Abroad

IX

Oh boy... chapter 9. Uh.. usually Im beginning to wrap things up at chapter 9, usually I only go for a 12 chapter story.. however... well it seems.. unviable at this point, as it would force the main arc of the story along very quickly. Therefore, Im going to make this story at 24 chapter tale. Nice and standardised number, which I am confident I can reach without dragging it along. If I cant.. well shit, guess it will be shorter. Guess thats it for now, on with the tale.

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Anthony sat, atop the tank's turret, looking over the fields, mainly at the column of Gloriana tanks approaching, letting his mind wonder amongst the memories inside his brain. Memories of loss, of grief, pain, yet at the same time, memories of pleasure, joy, happiness and satisfaction.

A metallic clang resounded in the trees as his fist came down on the tank's turret. Fucking hell.

Anthony glanced at the Cromwell tank that came spinning to a halt right in front of his Comet, bearing the markings of Rose Bay, a school that was no more. Rosehip poked her head up from the commanders hatch, an impish grin on her face.

"Hi... hope you don't mind me taking this one for a spin.."

A wry smile fell upon Anthony's lips. "Quite literally I see."

Rosehip's impish grin grew, the poor pun making her laugh softly. "Guess so!..." Her eyes fell upon his Comet and he could almost see her salivating. Or something else

Anthony resisted the urge to slap himself. "Shut up.." He grumbled, in a moronic attempt to corral his libido.

Rosehip's head tilted, a frown growing as she looked at him, however their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Gloriana's Churchill Mk. VII, the blonde commander standing atop her tanks turret once it came to a stop.

"Good afternoon Darjeeling." Anthony's voice broke the silence of lack of conversation.

"Good evening Anthony." Darjeeling corrected. "Its about 4 o'clock. 1600 hours."

"I see... I presume you have a reason for fielding the whole of Gloriana's contingent of tanks?"

"Not particularly, however the firing of a 77 millimetre cannon outside a school is reason enough for the Sensha Dō club to leave class early." Darjeeling raised an eyebrow, glancing at the tank Anthony sat atop. "You have questions I presume?"

Anthony realised the situation, getting straight to the point. "What will happen to me. And my tanks."

"I don't know.. however, I do know one thing. I have been authorised to offer you a place at St Gloriana's. If you accept, the tanks will transfer with you." The look on Darjeeling's face, accompanied by the way she spoke, was a clear indicator that those words had been rehearsed several times. However it was no less of a surprise to those in attendance.

Anthony was speechless, his mouth hanging ever so slightly open. "... what of.. my crew.. my classmates..."

".. I dont know..." Darjeeling noted the language change, making a conscious effort to keep up with him.

"..." The world around them was silent, save for the purr of tank engines. "The tanks. What will happen to them?"

"Legally, the tanks are now your personal belongings. However it is forbidden to own them without a permit, one that is usually given to Sensha-Dō clubs and collectors such as the Nishizumi family."

"... Allow me to think on it for the evening. I will give you my response... after dinner tonight."

"Very Well. I look forwards to your response."

Anthony glanced out across the rolling fields, watching the Crusaders of Gloriana scuttle around the field, faint cracks of gunfire echoing as they sparred with each other.

Standing atop her Churchill, Darjeeling glanced sidewards towards Anthony, taking a step and moving onto the roof of the Comet, the two British tanks parked together.

"... I understand you might wish to return home to your family in a situation such as this. If you wish, I can pass the news al-"

"I'm not going to go home." Anthony's voice was firm, audibly containing a large amount of emotion, currently manifested as anger. Darjeeling recoiled slightly, taking a step back at the sudden outburst, glancing behind her
to find her foot on the edge of the turret. Out of the corner of her eye, she vaguely noted Assam's head poking out of the commanders hatch of the Mk VII Churchill, investigating the commotion.

Anthony's scathing glare was cast in her direction, sending her recoiling in fear, ducking back into the tank as fast as was humanly possible. Darjeeling herself could not look at Anthony, nor did she want to. She was a commander. On the field and in the tank, she had to be cool and collected, not emotional.

Emotion on the field was dangerous. Thats what lead Katyusha to be such a poor commander once one of her lieutenants was knocked out, she would go looking for revenge, emotion clouding judgement. In essence, she was too attached.

".. I see.... I will talk to you over dinner, if you would care for it... I will meet you at 1800 hours." Darjeeling stepped back to her tank, climbing back in, nodding to her driver. The Gloriana contingency returned to their garage.

Darjeeling cast one last look at Anthony, before looking ahead.