Somewhere in the Griffonian Empire...
The battlefield is still smoky and dark, there's hardly any survivors during that artillery barrage 10 minutes ago. The ruins of the destroyed Sherman tanks were everywhere, along with some Panzers; but mostly Shermans. At the last years of Griffonian Empire, they fought back ruthlessly, sending Childs and teenagers into the battlefield. Also, the Griffon Tanks technologies were way more advanced than the Allies. Usually, the Allies have to suffer great causalities to take a town or a battlefield from the Griffons. The deeper they cut into the Griffonian Empire, the stronger the resistance gets. Now the Allies are facing the most brutal, merciless, hardened resistance yet...
Upon a hill near the battlefield, a Griffon Officer was raiding on a motorcycle, scouting the silence battlefield. He doesn't have much watch out for since this place is technically dead. However, this thought is what got him killed.
The officer went past several destroyed Sherman tanks, but he missed one. A M4A3E8 Sherman tank with its barrel painted a word, "BLOOM". As the Griffon officer went by, a figure slowly emerged from the shadow of the tank, a knife in her hoof. The orange mare slowly approached to the officer, which didn't notice any suspicious things going on.
Just when the Griffon officer passed right by, the mare jumped, she landed on the officer, tackled him onto the ground. She then raised her knife and stabbed the Griffon in his throat, then, with a few stab on his head, the Griffon is dead.
Then the orange mare panted while searching through the motorcycle. She found a StG44 and a few clips. She got them and climbed back into her Sherman tank "Bloom".
Dark. Cramped. Crowded. A filthy machine with filthy men. There’s two main areas - THE TURRET BASKET -- A big cylindrical cage that spins with the turret. And the BOW -- The front of the tank where the driver and a machine gunner sit. The sound of piss hitting tin...
Smolder “Rock” is draped casually across the cannon breech. Garble's sister from Dragon Land, she’s serious, calm, centered. You’d never guess she’s killed a thousand Griffons. She finishes urinating into an ammo can.
Spike “Wikey” sits in the driver’s seat sipping wine from a bottle. A Dragon from Ponyville. He’s been drunk since the war begun. He once went into combat sober - And vowed never to do it again.
Next to Spike, the transmission housing between them, is the body of RED. A blood soaked jacket pulled over his head. His blood spattered inside the tank.
Ocellus “Cocoon”, a changeling from the hive, is wedged into the battery compartment fixing a short. She’s cunning, viscous, and World wise.
The orange mare, Applejack "Warmommy" drops down into the Commander’s hatch.
"You get that fucker?" Ocellus asked.
"I knocked him off." Applejack answered.
Spike offers the body of his dead friend a drink, pushes the bottle into his shoulder. Whispers to him...
"Wikey. Stop. Leave him rest." Smolder said.
"He’s dead. Or did you forget? Drunk damn fool." Applejack sighed.
Spike shoots them a dirty look. Keeps whispering to his dead friend. Applejack watches Ocellus work.
"Goddammit. Ain’t you done?" she asked, a bit impatiently.
"Keep ridin’ me." Ocellus said, while continuing to work.
"I’m not riding you. If I was, you’d know it. More where he came from." Applejack said before turning away from her.
Applejack tosses Smolder the Knight’s Cross - she hangs it in the turret - Where more Griffon combat decorations hang like Christmas ornaments.
"You get some canned food for this?" Applejack asked. She tosses Spike the dead Officer’s Luger. He inspects it.
"For this? Yeah. A case or two." Spike muttered while holding the Luger.
Applejack lights a cigarette. Then scratches another notch in her knife with her GI can opener. It’s tense - They are behind Griffon lines and acutely aware of the danger they’re in. But danger becomes routine. After years of it...
Ocellus smirks - KNOWING she’ll get a rise...
"You still talking? Can we get out of here? Everyone shut up." Spike groaned.
"You shut up. You’re a goddamn bottle of wine. Stink like wine. Think like wine. Alcohol never solved nothing." Applejack spat. Smolder chuckled.
"Neither did milk. Let’s go. (Speaks in Dragon language) Let's go. Let's go ya." Spike said.
"Wanna talk Dragon? Find another tank. A Dragon tank. This is an Equestrian tank. We talk Equestrian." Applejack snorted.
"Who put a nickel in you? You talk Griffonian. You can talk Griffon and I can’t talk Dragon?" Spike snapped back.
"I use my Griffonian as a tool of war." Applejack said, crossing her hooves.
Ocellus grabs her crotch...
"Here’s my tool of war." she said.
The changeling realizes this isn’t about Wines or Dargon. It’s about the dead -- The stallion with his head blown off in the Bow Gunner’s seat. Ocelllus hands Applejack some coffee she warmed on a Coleman stove.
"Thanks Cocoon." Applejack said, sounding a bit depressed.
"Stop ragging on everyone. You didn’t kill him. The Griffons did." Ocellus comforted her.
"That’s true. But I sure didn’t keep him alive." Applejack sighed.
"His number came up. That’s all. We’ve been lucky. Until now. Settle down." Ocellus said.
Applejack adds sugar to her coffee. Stirs it with a greasy callused hoof. She opens the Griffon’s map case -- and discovers several maps...
"Thank celestia. We got a map." she sighed.
After a few moment of studying the map, Applejack folded up and put it aside.
"We’re here. Battalion Area’s to the South. This hardball road here’ll get us back. Sound good?" she asked.
"You got the stripes, jack. You figure it out." Ocellus said.
Applejack pokes her head out of the Commander’s hatch and listens carefully to the coming dawn. At first it was quiet, but later, she heard a distant scream from the sky. Louder and louder. Her finely tuned instincts kick in. Applejack drops back inside - Pulls the hatch shut with a CLANK...
Then, the sound of ROARING LOCOMOTIVES -- Another artillery barrage is on the way...
BOOM-BOOM-KABOOM! -- Shells explode around the tank. Rocking it. For the moment the men are safe in their steel beast.
"Cocoon? Anytime, sugarcube." Applejack said while patting the changeling.
Ocellus turns a last bolt then extricates herself from the batteries.
"‘Kay. Crank her up, Wikey. Whip this beast!" Ocellus called from the turret.
Spike pushes the starter button. Expectant faces. The engine RUMBLES but doesn’t catch.
MORE EXPLODING SHELLS -- Incredibly loud. Shrapnel PINGS off the hull. They endure it with their trademark stoicism. They’ve been through it before - But a direct hit can kill them...
"Choke’er up. She’s cold." Applejack ordered.
Spike opens the choke. Tries again. The engine rumbling. But it won't start. The crew shared worried faces.
"There’s condensation on the plugs." Spike said to Applejack.
"Plugs’re good. Don’t flood it."
"Drunk or not I can start a damn tank." he grumbles, he pushed starter button again.
VROOM! -- The engine ROARS to life. They are relieved. Low key and businesslike, they don their headsets - It’s now unbelievably loud in the tank. Ocellus joins Applejack and Smolder in the turret basket.
"Move out!" Applejack said in a stern voice.
Spike double-clutches and shifts into first. The tank lurches. Smolder presses her eye to the gunsight...
Applejack rotates the turret with her hooves switch, looking outside through a periscope.
"Forward! Pick it up! Forward!" Applejack commanded.
The tank RATTLES. CLANKS and SHUDDERS. Ammo cases, weapons, C- rations vibrate. They're in the belly of this beast.
KABOOM-BOOM-BOOM! -- Shells explode dangerously close. The tank shudders. Spike clutches, shifts into second. Stomps the gas. The tank builds speed. Applejack sees the road.
"Drive! Left. Left. Left." Applejack said calmly but sternly.
Turning the tank with the two big steering levers. Spike whips it onto the road, upshifts into third gear. The tank builds speed - Moving surprisingly fast.
Spike can sure drive a tank. Eyes riveted to his periscope. Gas, oil, blood and piss sloshing over his boots. The fallen stallion's body in the seat next to him.
Leaving the CRASHING artillery behind...
Out of immediate danger, Applejack opens her hatch and takes his normal position - Exposed from the chest up in the commander’s hatch. She grips a captured German assault rifle, grimly scanning for threats with her cold hard eyes.
The Bloom has escaped. Her crew is neither grateful or relieved. There is work to do. The war is not over...
(~)
BATTALION AREA
A farmer’s field has been overrun by a travelling circus of death - An Allied Armored Battalion. A couple thousand men. A couple hundred vehicles. The TIRED MEN load TIRED VEHICLES for another day on the attack. Months of spearheading into Griffonian Empire.
A booming artillery battery pumps rounds into Griffon targets miles away. The BLACK DRIVERS of the Redball Express Trucks unload heaps of supplies from their trucks.
MECHANICS, CLERKS, COOKS and MPs move with purpose. INFANTRYMEN clean weapons. A CHAPLAIN gives last rites outside the surgery tent as MEDICS line up more litters of WOUNDED MEN.
A hundred Griffon POWs sit listlessly behind barbed wire. A BULLDOZER plows a heap of dead Griffon into a pit.
A ROW OF FIFTEEN SHERMAN TANKS -- Their busy CREWS ready them for another day’s push into Griffonian Empire. The tankers stop working and stare in amazement.
Here comes the Bloom -- Driving up fast, it deftly spins and parks perfectly alongside the newer, cleaner tanks. Sergeant Shining Armor, commander of the battalion shakes his head.
"Thought you were dead AJ." he smiles.
"The Devil watches over his own." Applejack grinned.
She jumps down. A pair of medics approach the tank with a litter. Applejack and Spike haul the stallion’s corpse out of the tank and lay him onto the litter.
"Take care of him. He was a good man." Applejack said.
The Medic sees the top of Red’s head is gone. He turned to Applejack, a bit unamused.
"You said you had wounded. We’re not graves registration." he said.
"Take good care of him. Or I’ll take good care of you." Applejack replied calmly but coldly.
Applejack pats her assault rifle with menace. The Medics trade looks and depart with the body. Spike crawls under the tank and passes out in the mud.
A lieutenant approaches Applejack. Young and fresh, he has just a month with the outfit. He’s intimidated by AJ, this tough tanker hard tempered by war’s hammer.
"Sergeant I was afraid you were dead. I’m awful sorry about your man." he said with his head down.
"It’s...." she sighed.
"Where’s the rest of Third Platoon?" the lieutenant asked.
"We’re it." Applejack said with a frown.
"Wait what?! What happened out there?" the lieutenant was a bit shocked.
"Another goddamned green Lieutenant happened." she spat.
"What do I tell the Captain?"
"Tell him we drove straight into a strongpoint. Two Kraut tanks were dug in like pillboxes. I got ‘em both. After they got everyone else." Applejack said with a angered tone.
"We’re moving again. Headquarters section’s already folding. You’re in my Platoon now. We’re assigned to check out a town while main unit bypasses." the lieutenant said.
"A goddamned flank guard mission?"
Applejack nods at the Bloom. Looking even more ragged in the daylight.
"Lieutenant, I gotta short in the master switch box. Steering linkage is rattling. Engine’s losing compression. Oil’s in the radiator. Bogies need rubber. There’s a 75 gouge on the turret that’ll take twenty pounds of welding rod to fill in. She’s a mess. So’s my crew." she said to the lieutenant.
"Make ready to depart the company area on my order." the lieutenant said before spins on his heels and walks off.
Applejack looks at Smolder and Ocellus, staring at her from atop the tank. Just crushed. Beaten, exhausted. Spent.
"That bitch's douchebag. We working for that fool now?" Smolder grunted.
"Don’t you worry about him. You work for me. Restock ammo and rations. Wake up Spike. Have him top off the water and gas. Do what you can about the mechanical issues." Applejack said before walking away.
"Where you going?" Ocellus asked.
"The latrine to take a shit. I ain’t shit in a week." Applejack replied.
Sandbar, a shiny new Private with a dufflebag intercepts Applejack.
"Sergeant Applejack?" he asked.
"Maybe. What the fuck are you?" the tanker demanded.
"Private Sandbar. I was told to report to you. I’m your new Assistant Driver." the newbie said with a shaky voice.
"Lookit you. Crisp and green like a new dollar bill. Puppy breath and all." Applejack said.
AJ then lights a smoke. An outgoing volley from the nearby Artillery Company makes Sandbar flinch.
"Don’t worry about outgoing. Incoming mail’s the issue. Griffons can drop an 88 shell in your mouth from two miles out." Applejack said in a half sarcastic half serious tone.
Applejack then directs him to the Bloom.
"That’s home. Do what you’re told. And don’t get too close to no one." she said before walking off.
Sandbar approaches the tank. Smolder and Ocellus scrutinize the newcomer. Spike slides out from under the hull, bathed in mud. The three feral tankers eye Sandbar. Spike grabs Norman’s dufflebag and searches it. The newbie is too afraid to stop him.
"Which way’s the front?" the newbie asked in a shaky voice.
"All around us. Kid, this is Griffonian Empire. We’re surrounded by fucking Griffon shits." Smolder said, trying not to laugh at this stupid question.
Norman sees a young tanker running in circles holding an M1 rifle above his head. Yelling," I'M A SHITHEAD! I'M A SHITHEAD! I'M A SHITHEAD!"
"What’s that about?" he asked curiously with a sympathetic tone.
"He was cleaning a machine gun and didn’t unload it. Nearly killed a Sergeant. Lucky he didn’t get stomped into the mud." Smolder said with a 'that's what you get' face on.
Sandbar swallows hard. Looks around. Spike angrily looks up from Sandbar’s dufflebag.
"Where's the cigarettes?!" he demanded.
"I...I don't smoke." Sandbar said, a bit scared.
"Well then you're a bastard!" Spike spat as he threw Sandbar's dufflebag on the muddy ground. Leaving Sandbar with a stricken face.
"You go to tank school?" Smolder asked.
"I’ve never seen inside a tank. I’m a clerk typist. I was going to Fifth Corps HQ. They pulled me off the truck and sent me here. It’s gotta be a mistake." Sandbar explained.
"Ain’t a mistake. Army does what it does." Ocellus said.
"Kid, you from Applelosa?" Smolder asked.
Norman shakes his head: “No”.
"Manehattan?"
"No."
"Canterlot?"
"Uh...no, I'm actually from-----" kid was cut by Spike.
"-- No one gives a damn where you’re from."
Spike offers him his canteen. Sandbar politely takes a swig. Spits it out.
"Ugh! Taste like hornet stings." he said while spitting.
"You don't drink." Spike said, a bit coldly.
"Nah-uh, especially this."
Spike snatches back his canteen.
"I hate you."
Ocellus pulls open the Bow Gunner’s hatch.
"Here boy. Here’s your seat. Get a bucket of hot water from the kitchen and get it clean. Amish clean." she said.
Norman’s face drops when he peers inside...
"Ugh...what the...."
(~)
Minutes later. Sandbar kneels awkwardly over the transmission as he scrubs off blood with a rag. He pauses to stare at the big belt fed machine gun - Also spattered with blood. He cleans it gently. As if afraid of waking a dangerous animal.
Sandbar removes blood spattered pin-up girls. And a photo of Red’s wife - The tough cattle ranching mare who has no idea her stallion is dead. He reaches for a photo of Red in cowboy regalia astride a horse -- And freezes...
WHAT HE SEES -- Blonde hair, an ear, a single blue eye. Half of Red’s face.
"HOLY!!!"
(~)
Tanks are being readied for combat. Gas tanks are filled. Equipment is oiled and clean. Ammo loaded. Busy green creatures scrambling over big green turtles.
On the Bloom, Ocellus and Smolder load ammo into the turret. Applejack and Spike tighten track links with wrenches.
Then they saw Sandbar scrambled out of the tank, he tumbles over the side. Landing on his hands and knees, he vomits his lunches and dinners into the mud...
Coughing and sputtering he looks up in time to see a 6x6 truck roll by, filled with a heap of corpses. Griffons, dragons, ponies, changelings, and yaks. Their legs and arms sticking out. It looks like they are waving “Hi” to the young soldiers...
Sandbar wants to cry. The Bloom’s crew stares at him. Blank faced. No sympathy.
"Get back in there. It’s not going to clean itself." Smolder said with a blank tone.
Sandbar stands, brushes off the mud. About to climb back in the tank, he pauses and stares with his mouth agape.
Two TIRED GI’S escort and SS SERGEANT. His hands tied behind his back with bailing wire. His head is SWOLLEN like a watermelon. Puffy slits for eyes, blood slicked hair. He’s taken a serious beating.
"Why ain’t he sleepin’?" Applejack asked the tired GI.
"G-Two wants a prisoner to question." he said.
"I’ll question him." Applejack said in a freezing, killing tone as she went up to the POW.
"Hey! Hey! Newbie!" Smolder shook Sandbar's shoulder, "Warmommy's gonna play with him. Watch. Real fun."
Applejack stepped in front of the beaten POW, (speaks in Griffonian)"Was ist deine Lieblingsfarbe? Du magst Hühnchen oder Rindfleisch? Bist du ein guter Tänzer? Du magst dicke Mädchen?" (What’s your favorite color? You like chicken or beef? You a good dancer? You like fat girls?)
The stoic prisoner blinks with confusion...
THWICK! -- Applejack buries her knife in the Griffon Sergeant’s chest. Smack in the heart. And works it side to side.
The GI’s shake their heads with weary dismay. Smolder and Ocellus pull Applejack away. Spike cackles with delight.
"Okay, that kind of thing’s gonna get you in a lot of trouble." the GI said.
"We ain’t here to ask them questions." Applejack snarled.
Sandbar was both scared, confused, and blank. After a brief moment, he finally understood what these soldiers means by saying, "This is war kid. Get use to it."
The Tired GI’s drop their prisoner. They look at Wardaddy like getting ready to do something about it. Ocellus aims her Tommy gun at them...
"It’s a goddamned Kraut. Forget it." she said.
The SS Griffon dies in the mud gasping his last breath. The tired GI’s move along.
"I have to tell them what you did." the Gi sighed before walking off.
Applejack ignores him. Sandbar watches the stallions go, shocked. AJ spits on the dead Griffon. Wipes her knife clean.
"You killed a prisoner of war. In cold blood." Sandbar gasped.
"I know what I did. He’s an SS. They’re real assholes." the tough tanker replied.
Applejack shakes a smoke from her pack. Scratches another notch in her knife with her can opener.
"I kill every SS I can. You’d seen what I seen you would too." she said.
"Fuck every last one. They started it. We’re finishing it." Ocellus snarled as she stomped on the Griffon.
"Heinies don’t know Our Generals smell" Smolder shrugged.
"Yep. Ain’t nothing spear from sliding belly." Ocellus agreed.
"We’re the spearhead. Done any killing?" Applejack asked the newbie.
Norman shakes his head, "No."
"You will."
(~)
Applejack shoves an ugly stamped metal submachine-gun into Sandbar’s hooves. The GIs call it a “greasegun”. The Lieutenant returns from the Company Command Post...
"First Platoon TC’s! See me now!" the lieutenant yelled.
The first Platoon TANK COMMANDERS wander over to the Lieutenant. Applejack "Warmommy", Rockhoof, Firececlaws and Rammer (I made up the name Fierceclaws, a dragon, and Rammer, a yak.) , all rough tankers who can kick ass in a bar fight.
"I see you sir. I see you." Rockhoof said in a deep voice.
"Here’s the big picture. Main Unit’s going East. We’re going North on a flank guard mission. We’ll tie up with Baker Company from the 41st. Sergeant Applejack is with us now. She’ll be acting Platoon Sergeant." the lieutenant said.
"That’s fine with me. Glad to have you AJ." Fierceclaws shook Applejack's hooves.
"Sir, saying you get picked off? Mind showing me the overlay where we’re going?" Applejack turned to the lieutenant and asked.
"Sure, AJ. After that we’re working for Captain Waggoner. Any questions?"
"You started shaving?" Rockhoof asked. The lieutenant disregards the dig...
"First Platoon! Mount up and move out!" he called as he climbed into his tank.
The five tank commanders cross to their waiting tanks. Applejack makes the “crank it up” hand sign. Spike slides in the driver’s hatch and starts the Bloom.
The other four tanks start up - their ENGINES ROAR. The 25 creatures of 1st Platoon take their fighting positions in side the steel beasts. Applejack mounts the Bloom. Sandbar too. One mare confident and seasoned. The other clumsy and hesitant.
Meanwhile, a corporal is arguing with Rammer.
"I can’t go out! I can’t do it! And you can’t make me!" the corporal yelled.
THRICK!!! Rammer punches the stallion. And shoves him into the Bow Gunner’s hatch. It’s like stuffing a cat in a bathtub.
"Battle fatigue case. Good man. He’s got his limit. We got ours." Applejack just simply snorted at this.
"Ought’a be psycho’ed to the rear." Smolder joined in.
The Corporal extends his hoof from the hatch, just his hoof. He’s hold a LIVE GRENADE.
BOOM! -- It blows the Corporal’s hoof clean off, shreds his forearm. Rammer is livid.
"Bless you heart. You done went and did it. Get on, boy. Go suck your mama’s titty milk. Get on out of here you yellow fuck." he spat.
The Corporal climbs out of the hatch, slides down the front of the tank and trudges toward an ambulance clutching his shattered hoof. Sandbar saw everything. He looks at "Warmommy", amazed and confused. Who just shrugs and locks and loads her big .50 Cal machine gun.
"Guess he didn’t want to go. Drive! Move out." Applejack ordered.
The Bloom falls in behind the lieutenant's tank. After them is Firececlaws's tank, then Rockhoof and Rammer's.
The 5 tanks of 1st PLATOON move out in a column. Each tank running over the dead SS Sergeant - Flattening him into the mud. No sentimentality here. It’s just business.
(~)
The Five Sherman Tanks are on the road heading East. They pass the OUTPOST TANK - Marking the scrimmage line between the American Army and the Nazis.
"Go fuck yourself AJ! You owe me forty bucks." an outpost sentry yelled.
Applejack waves goodbye. The tank column passes a field where dozens of foxholes are filled with infantry stallions. At the sound of a WHISTLE a hundred ragged green stallions emerge from the earth like spawning locusts and shuffle towards waiting trucks.
Sandbar is sitting in the Bow Gunner’s seat, his hatch open. The ass of the Lieutenant’s Tank spewing exhaust and dust in his face. The Lieutenant keeps glancing back at Spike, sitting in the Driver’s hatch. Spike takes quick sips from a wine bottle between the young officer’s disapproving glances.
"We get hit, we’re gonna burn out. And we’re gonna burn out fast. Our tanks are shit boxes. German guns punch through them like butter. See this..." he said as he pointed to the hatch on the floor under his seats.
"We get hit. I’m gone. Right through here. I ain’t waiting for you. I ain’t helping you. Got that?"
"Okay. Thank you." Sandbar said nervously.
Sandbar looks up at Applejack in the Commander’s hatch. She looks like he was born like that - An iron centaur, half mare half tank. Applejack speaks to him through the intercom...
"Kid, you hear me, you plugged in?"
Norman fumbles with the intercom switch, replies, "I hear you, Sergeant."
"Don’t fire that bow gun until I tell you. Got that? Don’t want you plastering our guys." she said.
"Okay, AJ."
"Fuck who told you to call me AJ?!" Applejack asked in a cold tone, "You don't deserve to call me AJ yet."
"Ok...sorry sarge." Sandbar flinched.
"Do your job."
(~)
Spike kills off his bottle of wine, throws it at the back of the Lieutenant’s tank, shattering it.
"Kid, you play cards? Blackjack? Poker?" he asked the newbie.
"No. I don’t play cards." Sandbar replied.
"You bitch."
Farmer’s fields on either side. The tank column passes an OLD FARMER riding a hay wagon pulled by two old horses. Columns of black smoke rise in the distance. Applejack spreads her map on the turret. Marks their destination. Ocellus opens her hatch, next to Applejack’s.
"What a chicken shit job. A goddamned side mission while main unit leapfrogs us. We need any support we’re fucked." she muttered angrily.
"Ain’t this fucking war over yet?" Ocellus asked.
"We’re two hundred miles from Griffonheim. Get there just over a week."
"I’m in no hurry to get murdered in Griffonheim. Kids pouring bushels of grenades in our hatches. Wine bottles full’a gasoline. No thank you, ma’am." the changeling waved her hooves.
"I don’t want it to end." AJ said.
"I’m ready to ship home. Work at Thorax's, marry me a little thing to make me pies and babies." Ocellus sighed.
"I never planned on surviving this thing." Applejack shrugged.
VROOM! - A Hippogriff P-47 fighter flies over. So low that the crew can count the rivets on the wings. It quickly vanished over the horizon.
Sandbar watched with fascination. He SEES another P-47 fast approaching.
VROOM! - It passes directly overhead.
PAK-PAK-PAK-PAK-PAK! - A Griffon anti-aircraft gun opens up. 600 yards away it’s well camouflaged in a group of trees.
It blows the wing off the low-flying fighter plane.
The aircraft corkscrews into a field and EXPLODES VIOLENTLY as its bomb load detonates. Sudden. Shocking.
Applejack was put into immediate action by spinning the turret towards the anti-aircraft gun's position.
"Anti-aircraft! Two O'clock. Six hundred yards. HE! Fire when ready!" she ordered.
Ocellus quickly got into the turret and picked up a HE round from the ammo rack behind her. She stuffed it into the cannon breech. "Loaded!" she calls.
Smolder presses her face against the gun’s telescopic sight. She makes fine adjustments to the azimuth and elevation wheels of the cannon. Then stomps the firing pedal...
"On the way!"
KABOOM! - The gun recoils violently several feet, rocking the tank. Ocellus immediately loads another shell into the breech - It slams shut - KERCHACK!
Sandbar was buffeted by the muzzle blast. He SEES the cannon shell - a glowing fireball - Arc into the Griffon position.
KABOOM! - A direct hit. The distant target explodes with a high order detonation - Burning and exploding ammunition rains down around it.
"Love One-Two for Love-One. Target destroyed. We should head over there. Might be more Krauts to bag." Applejack requested.
"Negative, AJ. We’re on a timetable." the lieutenant replied sternly.
They continue on their way. Leaving the carnage behind them.
Sandbar watches the greasy column of smoke from the crashed fighter and the destroyed Griffon gun recede in the distance. It all happened so fast. His first taste of combat and he never saw an enemy soldier.
(~)
The five tanks turn onto a paved road. It is crowded with REFUGEES - A long ragged column of Griffon civilians fleeing the bombings and marauding Dragons to the East. OLD Griffons, Gryphon, chicks, once proud faces not dirty and scared.
Applejack was warily eying the flood of refugees. There’s a carriage being pushed by Gryphon. A car is pulled by horses.
"Okay. Button up. There might be a wolf hiding in the sheep. Kid, cast an eyeball on ‘em. Anyone makes a move you cut them right in half. Do what you need to do. If people are in the way, that’s their problem. You copy?" Applejack asked.
"Copy." Sandbar replied.
Spike and Sandbar closed their hatches. Sandbar looks at the machine gun. Hesitant. Spike reaches over and cocks it for him - KERCHACK!
"Gun’s ready. Just pull the trigger. Every five rounds is a tracer. So you can see what you’re hitting. Remember, short bursts. That way you’ll harvest more meat per bullet." Spike instructed him.
Sandbar REACTS. Looks through his periscope.
The world as seen through a rectangular piece of glass. He just sees a tired mass of Griffons. Pathetic and harmless.
The Refugees move aside for the tanks. Among them are a dozen SOLDIERS - Schoolboy draftees - With no appetite for a fight. They toss aside their weapons and raise white handkerchiefs. Applejack, from her position high in the turret towers over them, aims her assault rifle at them.
"Geh weiter. Pferdesport Linien sind so. Mach weiter. Hände hoch. Los geht's. Bewegung." (Keep walking. Equestrian lines are that way. Keep going. Hands up high. There you go. Move.) She yelled at the POWs.
The lieutenant is 50 feet ahead in his tank, he handsignals for Applejack to speed up. The tanks speed past the line of refugees. Tanks don’t like people near them.
Spike opens his hatch. Sandbar does the same. Grateful he didn’t have to shoot anyone. They pass a pretty Gryphon on a bicycle. She smiles at Sandbar.
The 5 tanks steadily approach their objective. Telegraph poles line the road. From those poles hang four YOUNG GRIFFONS, about 10 or 11 - Big signs around their necks.
The creatures in the Bloom stare at the dead children. Applejack is face to face with them. He’s up so high.
"What do the signs say?" Smolder asked.
Applejack paraphrases the Griffons scrawls on the signs.
"'I’m a coward and refused to fight for the Griffonian people.'" she sighed sadly, "Fuck those SS shits... Those are just children..."
Then the body of a HOUSEWIFE.
“I helped traitors to Griffonian Empire.” Applejack continued to translate.
Sandbar gasped, looking at the bodies. Stunned by the senseless cruelty.
"They did that shit in Kulgetown and Peak of Peril. Especially to the kirins; they think they're dirty, so these SS shits massacred most of the kirins. Only few survived. Now they’re doing it to their own people. Let ‘em rip themselves to pieces." Spike growled, "And they almost killed her."
"Who?" Sandbar asked.
"Autumn Blaze," Spike said, sighing, "She and I were good partners. Been through Operation Overlord, liberation of Manehattan, and the battle of the bulge. But she's captured trying to help me retreat. After the Kirin Massacre I though I wasn't to going to see her again. Just two days ago, our colts found her escaping from the Griffons, we got her back to our camp; and boy, these Griff motherfuckers tortured her just cuz she's a Kirin. Damn, how I hate racism."
"Is she ok?" Sandbar asked.
"Yeah, still recovering." Spike said, "Here's a tip for you kid: During war, you'll always lose the ones you trust or liked. It just the way it is."
Sandbar remained silence as the tank column continues.
(~)
Sandbar watches the world go by through his periscope block. Seeing Griffonian Empire through the small glass prism...
Suddenly, he saw MOVEMENT in the ditch alongside the lieutenant’s tank - An 11 Y.O. GROVER V YOUTH aims a Panzerfaust anti-tank rocket at the Lieutenant’s tank - He’s a scared little griffon; probably 8 years old, fear on his face, trembling.
Sandbar can’t believe what he’s seeing - He hesitates.
Just at this short moment of hesitation, the little griffon fired.
KABOOM! - A perfect hit on the ammunition storage. The result is instant and catastrophic as a jet of molten steel ignites the cannon ammunition...
A column of intense flame erupts from the commander’s hatch like a giant blow torch. the lieutenant is immolated like a pony candle.
Applejack aims her assault rifle at the Grover V Youth...
BRDDDDT! - Drops him with a burst. Two more GROVER V YOUTH decide they are done playing soldier and take off running...
BRDDDDT!-BRDDDDT! - Applejack smokes the little fuckers too...
The four other tanks spread out into a cover formation...
The burning tank rolls to a stop. The Driver’s hatch opens. The DRIVER crawls out - Flops on the ground, burning alive, he pulls his pistol from his shoulder holster...
BAM! - And shoots himself in the head.
Applejack and the other three tank commanders scanning for more Germans. All clear. Into radio...
"Keep an eye out." she said to Ocellus, who grabbed onto a 50 cal and loaded to cover AJ.
Applejack approaches the burning tank. AMMUNITION begins to EXPLODE. It is a total loss. No survivors.
Wait - The BOW GUNNER’S hatch opens. Belching fire and smoke. The A-DRIVE flails in the open hatch. Roasting alive. Trapped. Hopeless.
BRDDDDT! - Wardaddy finishes him off. Then, he crosses to the Grover V Youth in the ditch - He’s still alive. Applejack kicks him. Reloads her rifle.
"Bist du jetzt glücklich, du kleine Scheiße? Du solltest in der Schule sein und Milch trinken. Du musstest nicht gegen uns kämpfen, du Idiot." (You happy now you little shit? You should be in school drinking milk. You didn’t have to fight us you idiot.) Applejack snarled at the little Griffon as she aimed her gun at him.
BRDDT! - she ends the boy’s short lived war. She returns to the Bloom. BANGS on Sandbar’s hatch with her gun butt.
"Sandbar, open this goddamn hatch you cocksucker." she roared.
Sandbar opens the hatch, scared of Applejack. Who the hell wouldn’t be?
"Why didn't you shoot that shithead when you had the chance?" she demanded.
"It happened so fast. He was just a kid." Sandbar muttered, unfortunately, that angered Applejack even more.
She gestures at the dead lieutenant's burning tank.
"See what a kid can do? That’s your fault. Next fucking Griffon with a weapon you see, rake the dogshit out of him. I don’t care if it’s a baby with a butter knife in one hand and mama’s left titty in the other. You chop him up."
Applejack walks away, leaving Sandbar destroyed and guilt wracked. Spike looks at him, SEES newbie started to fall apart.
"Okay, look. That stupid kid did that not you. I froze up before too. That’s why I like driving. gotta kill Griffons? It’s them or Can you do it?" he said to the falling young pony.
"...I can do it..." he whispered.
"Okay. Then do it. This makes it easier." said Spike as he patted Sandbar's shoulder.
He offers Sandbar a bottle of wine. Sandbar declines. Applejack shouts to Rammer’s tank.
"Alight, Ram. Guess I’m it. I’ll lead the column. Let’s get where we’re going!"
"Lead the way." Rammer said.
Applejack climbs into the Bloom’s turret. Double checks her map. Into her mic, "Driver, move out!"
Spike puts the tank in gear and leads the column forward.
