Grey Tiger

Morning.

I hate mornings. Bits of my mother’s sun’s rays seeps through my tent. I open my eyes slowly. Oh great, time to start the killings again. I sigh while getting up off of my cot. I breathe the air slowly. The smell of petrol is strong in the air. They must be refueling our tanks and half-tracks. I use my magic to slip in my black boots on my hind hooves. I get off of my cot and trot over to my lock box and I open it to grab my C-96. I holster it. I always leave my gun belt on at all times but I don’t keep my pistol. I’m afraid it’d might go off. My stomach growls, oh great, I’m hungry too. I trot out of my tent to see two earth pony soldiers.

“Hey, you two,” I said. “Load up my things.” They scramble to salute.

“Yes sir.” They both said.

I trot to my panzer. Her name is Ginny. She’s good and reliable. Well, except for when she needs a new trans and final drives. Thank my mother I don’t have to do that. Instead, that job goes to the mechanics. They’ll have so much fun with that. Honestly, I swear, I don’t think these designers like us fixing things in our panzers.

*** *** ***

BOOM!

I turn to look at the spot where the shell hit us. A big dent is on the inside right side turret armour plate. The interior is warm, not really that loud. I have to take a potion to make my horn a lot smaller so it doesn’t bang around inside here. Lifting my head to see through the glass periscope blocks to see where that shot came from. Oh, don’t I just love the ringing in my ears. Looking through the narrow slit, I’ve spotted the Prenchies. Hidden anti-tank crew. I sigh hard.

“Gunner: traverse turret about nine o’ clock. Over by that old chapel. Loader: HE. Driver: all stop. Fire when I say.” I said.

They did so.

BOOM! ZUUUUU KA-CHUNG!

I hesitate my order to fire. Tears starting to well in my eyes, not from the hard air from inside this beast. But, taking those ponies lives. I have to, I must come back home to her. Another shot roaring to our armour. It hit us, bouncing off like it wasn’t anything. Come on, give the order, live another day. Then what? Kill more ponies who are just defending their land? What gives me the right to decide their fate? I look at the three-buck crew in their mud brown combat garb. Their eyes staring back, waiting for our move. One of them loading another shell into the breach. Its barrel, pointing at my cupola.

“FIRE!” I said screaming, louder than the engine.

BOOM!

Ginny, jerking back from the guns’ recoil. Our gun roaring painfully loud, making my ears ring. Watching the shell fly and hitting the armoured shield, the blast of hot bits of shrapnel smacking the three bucks. But one buck was closer and blew up into several bloody chunks of gore. The gun itself is disabled. Seconds later the ammo blew up. Red and white filling my vision and gone away in a flash.

“Continue forward.” I said. They did so.

If they let out that last shot, my brains would have painted the inside of the turret. Why didn’t I let that happen? I should’ve let it happen. I wish I could unsee all this. Our plunder continues.