I must admit this was not a comfortable experience.

Unless you, by some chance, enjoy being tossed and turned about on a vehicle like a ship moving about on rough seas, you would probably want to give riding on a tank a miss. It gets quite nauseating after a while, so I can only imagine those who travelled in these machines had very strong stomachs to cope with the violent pitching about.

I know some of the soldiers who landed on the beaches of Normandy (that's a place back in the old life) were seasick, but I'd never experienced anything like this myself. Probably a good thing I didn't have a big meal today, expecting I'd probably eat when I got back to Izzy's house.

Izzy's house. That itself felt now like so long ago, as I looked back in the direction of Bridlewood. Bridlewood was now a spec in the distance as our armies proceeded across the ground back towards Zephyr Heights. It was funny being involved in another as we'd seemingly fled the start of another conflict. Still, we had a job to do, and we would tackle it to the best of our ability.

I tried my best to remain steady on the back of this vehicle, holding onto a railing to steady myself. The back at least was to be avoided, as that was where the exhaust ports were located. If I'd been sitting there I'd only have had diesel fumes to the face to enjoy, which would probably have shortened my life span.

As we continued across the landscape, I tried a bit of reading, but unfortunately this was proving rather difficult owing to the constant pitching motion of the vehicle as we rolled along. I held onto something as I tried to read the text as best I could, but eventually I started to lose my focus and patience somewhat.

"All this pitching about is making reading rather difficult!" I complained.

Izzy glanced over to me, seeing me trying to read and not fall off at the same time. "What's going on, Sunny?"

I looked back at her whilst trying to maintain my existing balance. "I'm trying to get these notes read from my dad's journal, but I'm having trouble making sense of them. It doesn't help this thing is pitching about like a ship on rough seas! I can barely read this without my face going green!"

The tank commander, who was sitting out of his hatch with his upper body exposed, had seemingly overheard the conversation and looked back at me. He didn't exactly seem to approve of my comments on his vehicle. "Sorry, princess, but these vehicles weren't designed as luxury vehicles," he said, with a frown. "They're intended to dominate the battlefield. So either put up or shut up."

Well, that was a bit rude, especially given as far as he knows I'm a foreign envoy. And what did he call me? Honestly, the nerve of some ponies. "I'm not a princess!" I snapped. And I'm still not after the other events. I mean, slapping wings and a horn on a pony does not suddenly turn them into a good leader. I know the princesses of old Equestria were all alicorns, but applying the laws of a state that no longer exists would be crazy. I mean, just imagine the insanity that would result!

"Whatever you say," the tank commander replied. He then reached for the top hatch and closed it, vanishing from view. Boy would he be squashed down there. I didn't get the impression those things were palaces on wheels.

I was so focused on my internal thoughts, that I was slightly startled when Izzy began speaking to me. "You know, I'm wondering something."

I glanced up at her. "What, precisely?" I asked her, slightly unsure of what she was asking. I've gotten to know Izzy pretty well, but there are things about her that continue to surprise me.

"Why have they brought none of the tanks with doors to transport soldiers inside?"

Tanks with doors? That's an oddly vague thing to ask but- oh, she's talking about Armoured Personnel Carriers! Now her question made sense! I gladly answered that one. "You mean armoured personnel carriers? Strictly speaking, those aren't tanks. A tank is usually defined as a heavy armored fighting vehicle carrying guns and moving on a continuous articulated metal track," I explained, indicating to the vehicle we were currently riding on. "Although armoured personnel carriers do sometimes have turrets with armaments, their primary purpose is to move troops about the battlefield rather than engage targets, and they often have wheels instead of tracks."

Zipp looked over from the back of another tank. "Didn't take you for a military nut, Sunny!"

I glanced over to her with a grin, having been able to cheer up a bit. "It helps to know this stuff- after all, soldiers will correct you if you get it wrong," I said. I then turned my head back to Izzy. "Of course, it gets more complicated when you encounter infantry fighting vehicles, which are similar in design to APCs but carry armament designed to fight infantry formations instead-"

I noticed then that Izzy's eyelids were beginning to droop, indicating I was boring her to the state of sleep. Or, as she calls it, the call of the snoozy ocean. I stopped speaking, and her eyelids suddenly shot open to full width once again, which could still be somewhat unnerving.

"What's in the journal, Sunny?" she suddenly asked.

I then realised what a massive tangent I'd gone on. Oops. I really need to try and stop rambling about random topics that interest me. "Oh. Sorry. I'll get onto that now." I flicked through some pages, until I ended up on another with spidery words flowing from one side to the other. Not much use, this page. "Not much that will help us, I suspect. Dad was mainly concerned with the civilian future, and he didn't leave many clues as to the military situation in the region. So, I think we may have to wing it as we go along." To be honest, it wouldn't surprise me if he was a pacifist of some sort.

"Yay, puns!" Pipp called. "I love puns!"

I hadn't intended to make a pun, but that did the trick somewhat. I looked deeper into the book as we rolled along.

Later on, it began to rain, and we pitched camp below the lights of Zephyr Heights. The mountainous city loomed down upon us, much like it had when we first saw it all that time ago. It still took my breath away whenever I saw it, as it was just that stunning. I could see why so many bronies had latched onto the place in fan media.

So, most of us were processed to the big tent, which was near the top of the region. I had noticed this being built earlier on, and when I stepped in I saw a big stage with a table atop it. The layout more closely resembled a banquet than anything else. I know officers are supposed to sit separate of their troops (and often have their own barracks), but I noticed the Queen, Pipp, and Zipp were up there too. Was it standard etiquette to keep Royals separate from everypony else?

Talk about social hierarchy. At least the food was good, and we got on pretty well with the others. I found myself relaxing a bit for the first time in a few hours, which was at least a nice change from what sort of chaos normally followed my life.

The musicians were good, too. Instead of the marching fare we'd had most of the journey, they'd switched to playing relatively jaunty tunes that accompanied our meal quite nice. Not to mention it removed our attention from the pouring rain and kept our spirits high.

Eventually, it was done, and the Colonel guy addressed us. I think he's one of the Queen's closest military associates. "We all have a long, hard day tomorrow," he said, looking at all of us. "So make sure you get plenty of rest. We meet for the briefing at 05:00, so prepare for sleep as soon as possible and ensure you're up for the bugle."

That's early. I headed out of the tent once all was done and to my own, which Izzy had pitched along with the others (with the exception of one for Sprout, who was conspicous by his absence). I went into my own, avoiding the rain as best I could, before shutting the outside flap and wriggling into my sleeping bag as best as I could.

I could feel the difference almost immediately that a proper mattress had done for my back. Hopefully I won't have to do this again for a while.

I looked up, imagining where the stars would be. "Dad, if you're out there, please find some way to guide me through this madness."

I could have sworn I heard a voice, but then again I was pretty tired as I drifted off.

Author's Note

Welcome back, one and all, to the next section of this story! This new arc sees us rejoin Sunny for her journey across the lands once more. The title of this chapter is an allusion to a patriotic march popular in the United States in the early years of the 20th Century.

Sunny's commentary on princesshood is an allusion to this story:

EThe Princess Problem

• MLP Gen 5
• Comedy
• Slice of Life

Sunny talks with Spike about the Alicorn princesses of the past.

• Spike
• Other
• Sunny Starscout

RedRanger3142 · 2k words  ·  23  1 · 648 views

Her comment about old laws being used to try and overturn current ones is based on a real incident where somebody tried to use a law from the 1660s as evidence he did not need to pay tax. He was promptly told to stop talking rubbish.

Sunny briefly references the common mistakes made when referring to various models of armoured vehicles in common parlance. Although it is common to refer to any tracked military vehicle as a tank, thus technically is not the case. For example:

https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TanksButNoTanks

The images on the page do not depict a single tank.

The concluding scene at the tent is inspired by campaign tents coupled with Tolkien's description of vintage taverns. Anybody who knows me will know I enjoy a good pub, so bringing that to this story was a joy.

But will Argyle answer Sunny's plea? Only one way to find out!