Lost Panzer

2

As tank crews embarked onto the panzers, Peter watched the war machines rev up and leave the factory. He hopped in his own command panzer and followed the contingent of tanks. Pulling out his binoculars and radio, he began to look around. Several firefights were ongoing in the eastern flank of the factory. Peter ordered into his radio that the companies guarding the section was to abandon the post and follow the Panzer spearhead. The Americans could have the factory, he was leaving. At the edge of the forest, a few german soldiers were engaged in a firefight with a sparse American contingent. An explosive shell and machine gun fire from the panzers quickly dispelled them. Peter instructed the infantry to move ahead and scout out the forest. He sat with his panzers, waiting for the reinforcements. Soon, a long column of tanks and men approached the group of panzers. The tanks look worn and battered, patched up with whatever materials could be scavenged. The men looked the same, if not worse. At the head of the column, was the armored car of his lieutenant, Karl. The lieutenant hopped out his car and ran up to the command Panther.

"Peter! I have gathered most of the men." Karl shouted. "The Americans are closing on us fast. We need to get moving."

Peter nodded and gestured for Karl to climb on. Signalling for the tanks to move forward, he radioed the infantry he had sent as a recon. With no response from the infantry he had sent, he decided that there was no more time to wait. The long tank column of Panther Vs, supported by groups of Panzergrenadiers, slithered into the dark forest. The wide paved road began to turn into a narrow dirt path. Buildings of the empty city faded into the background, concealed by the branches and leaves. Overhead, the American planes, which had hounded the tanks like wasps, were swallowed up by the grey sky as they gave up their chase. Seeing the enemy planes lose track of his forces, Peter breathed a sigh of relief. But his troubles were far from over. The Americans will no doubt set up reinforcements to stop his panzer drive through the forest. The air was tense. Every soldier felt it. Even with the loud roar of the engines and the steady beat of boots against the dirt, everything felt eerily silent. Suddenly, the sounds of gunfire erupted from the nearby trees. Machine guns let loose a cacophony of screams as bullets tore past the trunks of trees, landing amidst the infantry. Peter's recon group had engaged an American company just a few blocks ahead in the small crossroads. Peter ordered his troops into attack formation and advanced. As the crossroads grew closer, Peter spotted the fierce firefight going on in between the enemy and his infantry. The Panzers unleashed a hail of fire into the forest, decimating the American infantry. The panzergrenadiers moved up, reinforcing the scouts. The battle began to turn in Peter's favor, until more Americans appeared. Several Shermans took form in the trees, returning fire at the panzers. He heard the clash of steel as shells ricocheted off the steel beasts. Hand held anti tank weapons from both sides exchanged fire. What Peter thought was only a few shermans became a whole battalion. Around 50 Shermans appeared clearly in the distance, coming from both sides of the cross roads. Even though the numbers were quite even, the fact that the road was narrow severely limited Peter's forces. Peter raised his binoculars to analyze the situation but a stream of machine gun fire from the Shermans encouraged him to keep his head down.

"Damn it. Disperse and advance!" Peter shouted to his tank column. Finding a wide area to engage would allow more of his tanks to be used effectively. He then told the driver to move forward, into the enemy infested forest. The infantry took cover behind the tanks and moved up with them. The assault had begun.

Peter saw the empty husk of a Panther go up in flames. Jets of fire shot up several meters from the hatch of the vehicle. Explosions from a nearby american field artillery improvised as an Anti tank gun shook the ground, adding to the chaos. Men screamed and bullets answered. Amidst the heavy fighting, Peter ordered his tanks in reserve to spread out along the two paths of the crossroad. His own tank vanguards would lead an assault on the forest. Peter poked his head out of the tank again, glancing towards the forest with his binoculars. Machine gun bullets flew overhead, glancing off the armour of a Panther that a few infantrymen were taking cover behind. The panzer commander hastily looked around, making sure his tanks were executing the orders he had given. He shouted a quick order towards the nearby panzergrenadiers to disable the Anti Tank Battery. Turning his attention back to the forest, he saw the silhouette of a Sherman in the trees, its long, muzzled cannon pointed straight at his tank. Peter saw distinctly and clearly the inside of the ringed, barrel. Frozen, like a deer caught in the headlights, he watched, in horror and shock, as sparks flew from its barrel and the jerk back as it recoiled. An armour piercing shell left the gun and came flying towards him. A brilliant flash met his eyes and the sound of the combustion came an eternity later. Dread was his final feeling.

Fire, steel, and blood was the first thing that came to his senses. The coppery, metallic taste of blood lingered on his tongue. A loud ringing pierced his ears. His sight was disoriented, blurry visions. Every part of him felt pain. Inside the burning tank was a maze of machinery. Peter reached for the hatch and pushed it open. Grabbing the top of the tank, he pulled himself out of the tank, falling pitifully on the mud. Gasping for breath at the cool air outside, Peter tried to gather his bearings. Suddenly, he realized with a start that the crew was still in the Panther. He crawled on top of the panther and back into the infernal machine.

"Karl! Franz! Lukas! Leon!" Peter desperately shouted for his panzer crew and lieutenant. Peter looked at the drivers seat and gunners, none of his crew members were there, not even a corpse. Reaching down into the radio operator's position, Peter felt the warm signs of a body. Pulling him out, Peter cried in relief for Karl was still alive. Pulling them both out, they collapsed on the mud. Drop by drop, the rain trickled down until it became a light shower. Peter leaned Karl up against a tree and then rested upon a stump himself. The adrenaline began to wear off and the realization that he somehow survived hit him. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. For a while, he sat, listening to the cold, drizzling rain fall gently. Glancing up, he looked up into the stars, the calm night sky covered his troubles like a blanket.

Just as Peter began to drift off into sleep, he suddenly realized with a jolt that it should still be morning. Painfully rising to his feet again, Peter stumbles towards the dirt road, while frantically looking around for the signs of a fire fight. No burned out Panzers, dead soldiers, or bullet casings. He was still at the cross roads next to a forest, but something seemed off about the place.

Walking further down the dirt road, the tank commander spotted a source of light. In the distance, tall, white towers bloomed. Thousands of light sources lit up the night. It was a spectacular mark of man in the middle of seemingly no where.

Getting closer, Peter realized that this was a city. Not even Berlin, or Paris, was this grand. Slowly, the dirt road merged into a long, swaying paved one, with yellow and white markings. He noticed a bus station standing by the dimly lit road. It had strange green and pink symbols on it. Peter squinted, was that Japanese? Peter looked closer at the advertisement. Why could he understand it? Before he could investigate further, he felt the overwhelming sensation of tiredness and fainted onto the bus station.