A two sided coin...

The Churchill VII parked in the depot was battle scarred and looked more like a bunker on tracks than a tank while the Spitfire Green paint was scratched from wear and tear. A 76MM gun pointed slightly skyward, ready to return fire while a small chalk message was inscribed on the barrel,

"To Hitler, with compliments"

Moving backward, another message was scribbled on the turret,

"MONTGOMERY'S D-DAY DODGER"

The area around it was alive with activity as five men began passing shells in a human line to a man waiting in the turret,

"How many of these are there?!" the loader, a Scotsman by the name of Bryce, sitting down in the hull, grumbled as he slotted yet another Armour Piercing shell into place in the ammo rack.

"I don't know Bryce. But whatever we're doing, something bigs happening..." came another voice kneeling on the turret, a Cornish accent belonging to the co-driver, Caden came through as he grabbed a High Explosive shell off the man behind him and passing it down to Bryce.

"Ach...suppose thats a fair one , now how many more of these things are there?"

"ABOUT 15 PLUS A FEW MG BELTS!" yelled the driver, a young man from Wales named Dylan, "AND DO YOU EVER STOP WINGEING BRYCE?"

"COURSE NOT MATE! WHERES THE FUN IN THAT EH?" came an equally cynical reply.

"Ach, true true." He muttured.

"Heads up boys! Boss is here!" the fourth member of their party, a Canadian gunner, William spoke up as he passed up a belt of Machine Gun ammunition and placed it up on the turret. All the men clambered off (or out of) the tank as a lanky figure walked towards them, the officers beret on his head along with battle dress being immaculate. Around his neck hung a pair of binoculars, one of the lenses cracked. The remainder of the crew snapped to attention and saluted.

"Stand easy boys and gather round." he finally spoke. His name was Michael Maye, and he had just been giving the briefing for the next few days. In a few moments, the crew gathered round, waiting to hear their orders. "Right boys. There's no easy way of saying it..." he sighed fixing his gaze on Bryce, "We're storming the Gustav line."

Bryce whistled and looked around, "Well...talk about throwing us up shit creek without a paddle or a boat eh?"

"You could say that..." Michael replied looking at each man round him. "Here's the plan..." he pulled out a map and laid it down on the ground, "...all of this..." he waved his hand across an area of the map, "...is Machine Gun Bunkers, Anti Tank Guns and artillery emplacements for about four miles. Us and the North Irish Horse have to punch a hole through that lot and get onto Highway 6." He pointed at a black line running beside a river with the word "Liri" next to it.  "Once we do that, we're on our way to Rome. The North Irish meanwhile will support our flank and advance on Cassino. It's the highest point around so if they don't take that...well...the mind boggles as to what's going to happen to us.." Michael trailed off. Silence invaded the group like a pack of wolves, waiting for the quarry to make a mistake. Finally, Dylan broke the silence,

"Any armour sir?" wishing he hadn't asked almost immediately after he'd opened his mouth.

"Panthers and Tigers. The front armour and the turret will hold out against both but our sides are easily penetrable. Any other questions?" the group was silent. "No? Good. Now before I forget..." Michael trailed off again, staring straight ahead, "Pretty much everyone we're coming up against here is from the Waffen SS. If we end up getting hit, stay inside. I'd rather burn to death than see whatever they have in store for us." He sighed before continuing, "I can't stress how important it is this goes according to plan. If we don't break through, the infantry are going to be annihilated. Italy falls here."

"Always one for making things positive aren't you boss?" Bryce replied as the memory ended.

Twilight looked over at Michael, a hybrid of shock and worry on her face, "What was that? Or would I rather not ask?" Michael got up and stretched,

"That...was the Second World War. And that was Italy. They called us the 'D-day Dodgers in Sunny Italy'. If only that were true."

"Well, what happened next?" Twilight continued, now looking scared,

"Well; why not find out?"