The Crystal empire was a horribly quiet battlefield, almost silent in fact. The silence was never good in war. Kampfgrupper Pharynx had advanced meeting almost no opposition the entire way, only the occasional: minefield, rearguard special forces teams and armed civilians had greeted them, no grand army had made itself known. The Crystal Imperial Army wasn’t anywhere, not even elsewhere on the growing frontline.

5th army meanwhile had stalled briefly as they were hit by a flood of mainly Communist troops. After absorbing the initial wave, the 5th army had counterattacked and made good progress south. It was the same all along the line, Changeling forces were making slow and steady progress into Equestria against heavy opposition. But the ponies were wearing themselves down, and something in their line would soon buckle.

The Crystal empire was a totally different story however, the largest tank force ever assembled on the continent had advanced over empty ground to their objectives, barely firing a shot. They’d all expected the hell which the Reich had faced at the battle of the Adaclava against a combined Aquelian Republican force. The largest tank battle in the world history which had lasted for day and claimed at least 100 000 lives across its 100 mile battlefield.

Kampfgrupper Peiper advanced towards their final objective of Chicoltgo, still in the hellish silence of the early morning. The 16th Panzer division and the Lehr division also had yet to encounter any actual resistance, only minefields and empty villages. Even the villages and city’s were empty, the civilians apparently having been evacuated months prior beyond a few nuts with shotguns.

The Lehr division was somewhere to their right, travelling parallel to reduce pressure on the roads. The 2nd brigade of his own 16th division meanwhile was several miles ahead of them, bypassing towns and villages on their way to Chicoltgo and acting as the advanced guard. Aerial passes had confirmed that Chicoltgo was still inhabited, even if the population was much smaller than their occupation census indicated.

Generalleutnant Peiper lay back in his tanks turret, relaxing as they passed through a village. Like everyone other village they’d encountered so far, it was totally abandoned. It was the last village they’d have to go through before arriving at their final objective of Chicoltgo, and the perfect place to take a rest to refuel. Panzers consumed vast amounts of petrol, the supply chain keeping his tanks running each day was more than triple the size of his actual fighting force.

Clicking on his radio, Peiper ordered the leading 16th panzer division to stop. Halting in the village square, Peiper glanced around and took in its sights. The village was a brick village, mainly populated with single story buildings. The square however mainly had 2 story buildings, some with boarded windows, all blacked out and abandoned. Peiper stepped out of his tank and landed with a thud on the cobbled road of the village. A light snowfall continued to fall in the frozen north and stain the ground white.

Peiper stretched his legs before trotting around for a moment, the snow crunching under hoof. Trucks started to roll up next to the tanks and Changelings dismounted as they started the process of refuelling the tanks. The tank crews and PanzerGrenadiers also dismounted and started to mill around and stretch their legs, hours at a time in a cramped tank made the crews jittery, it was good to get out every once in a while.

Peipers crew opened their own hatches on the tank and got some air, the gunner even climbing up and sitting in his commanders position on the turret. Raising a hoof, the Generalleutnant made a throwing gesture at the gunner. The changeling lit up his magic and levitated a box of matches and a pack of cigarettes out, before tossing them to him.

Peiper caught the two boxes in his magic and nodded in thanks. Around him, PanzerGrenadiers were jogging around and marching into the square. The Changeling took out a cigarette and lit it, inhaling and exhaling the smoke. He stuffed the matches and cigarette inside his inside box scanned around. A pair of officers approached and saluted the Kampfgrupper leader. “Your orders sir?” One of them, a PanzerGrenadier asked.

“Take your men and secure the village, set up a perimeter and patrol towards Chicoltgo. Avoid becoming decisively engaged if enemy forces should be encountered.” Peiper told him. The officer tapped his hoof and marched away. Looking at the other officer, Peiper addressed him “bring up the fuel trucks and top up the tanks. Tell the commissary that dinner can be served to the troops when we enter Chicoltgo.”

The other officer tapped his hoof and marched off in a different direction. Breakfast had been served several hours ago, they’d be arriving in an hour or two at Chicoltgo, perfect time to have tea. The troops would certainly be ready after the days travel and setting up of defences around their objective.

The Generalleutnant scanned the abandoned village centre, trying to spot any sign of life. Sighting an abandoned antique shop, Peiper took off at a trot towards it. He’d always been an antique collector, some bought from less than reputable sources, but all suitable extravagant.

The Generalleutnant was halfway to the shop when all hell broke loose. The fuel truck next to the leading tank, his own tank, detonated. Burning liquid fuel spilled inside the open top hatch of the Tiger IV tank and caused the vehicle to explode as its ammunition cooked off. For just a moment before the ammo detonated, he could hear his crew scream.

The explosive force of the detonation threw Peiper to the ground as chunks of metal from the exploding tank flew out in every direction like that of a frag grenade. All the nearby PanzerGrenadiers and tank crewmen milling around were shredded by the shrapnel, chunks of flesh and blood splashed out and wet the cobbled roads and stone windows.

Peiper himself was wounded as a piece of burning metal fragment passed across his cheek and created a deep cut. The disorientated officer stood up and noticed that everything was blurry, and the only sound was a ringing. He barely even registered the tracers flying through the air and thudding into a building, the crack of rifles and drone of machine guns also eluded him.

It wasn’t until a PanzerGrenadier grabbed him, dragged him and practically threw Peiper against the second tank in the line that he was dragged back into reality. The PanzerGrenadiers charged a building on the far side of the square under the cover of the next panzer in line spraying the upper levels of the red brick building.

A rocket flew out of the top window, whizzing through the air and letting out a screeching sound. The rocket propelled grenade impacted on the second panzer in the line, detonating on the forward hull. The panzer suffered no damage and continued to spray the buildings upper levels once the smoke cleared.

The PanzerGrenadiers meanwhile reached the door, the first ling there sprinted into the door at full speed and blew the door off its hinges with the impact force. The rest poured into the building as internal gunfire, muffled by the walls, started to fill the building. Silhouettes in windows falling and rising as the close quarters battle raged, flashes of gunfire and smoke from grenades pouring out of openings.

Peiper looked up to the turret and shouted at the commander over the gunfire and chaos “hold fire!”

Glancing down at the Generalleutnant, the tank commander must have told his crew to stop shooting over the intercom as the various machine guns on the vehicle stopped spitting bullets into the upper floor. The fighting outside stopped as everyone waited. Silhouettes of figures fighting in the windows could be seen, close range gunfire and melee.

After a few tense seconds, a top window creaked open. Every gun in the square traced itself on that window, but no one fired. Then a changeling appeared through the window and shouted “We got them.”

A collective sigh of relief went out among the troops and support personnel caught outside. Retaking command of the situation, Peiper shouted from his position “this isn’t over, secure the village on the double!”

The professional soldiers of the Heer immediately took off down the various roads and alleys of the village, kicking down doors and smashing windows as they checked every building. The air of calm and relaxation disappeared as the veterans of many battles were kicked back into action when their reflexes took over.

Peiper collapsed against the tank he sheltered behind and raised a hoof to the deep cup on his face. Blood poured out of the cut, but the wound itself didn’t seem too serious. The corpses strewn around the area certainly showed that he’d gotten off light, wasn’t dead at least. Honestly the ambush wasn’t that bad, soldiers could be replaced easily as bullets.

The Generalleutnant stood up and tried to wipe the blood off his cheek, but found the liquid wouldn’t stop flowing. Medics started to appear and tend to the wounded and dying, and Peiper saw the PanzerGrenadiers dragging several ponies out of the building. Both dead and alive, the ponies were being pulled. Those who were still living thrashed and squirmed as they were roughly thrown around by the Heer soldiers.

A medic ran over to Peiper and began to check him over “are you hurt anywhere else?”

“No just the cut on my cheek.” He let out a hard breath.

The medic lifted up a rag in their magic and started to wipe the blood off his face. The female changeling examined the cut before letting out a sigh of relief. “It’s not serious, and it’s not deep enough to warrant stitching. So I’m just going to clean it and put a bandage on.”

“Thanks” the Changeling officer replied “this’ll scar right?”

“Obviously.” Came the short reply.

The medic took out a flask of rubbing alcohol and doused a fresh cloth in it. Then she pressed it against his face and only the wound. Peiper winced in pain and let out a sharp breath from between his teeth. The medic laughed, much to Peipers annoyance. Heer medics were terrifying lings, their motto? ‘You don’t die without our permission’. Generally, you never argued with a Heer medic unless you wanted their permission to die.

Off to his left, three ponies were forced to their knees by a group of PanzerGrenadiers. The three ponies were bloodied and bruised having obviously received some rough treatment from the changelings. Peiper barely even noticed that however, his eyes were laser focused on their identity of crystal ponies and the uniforms they wore.

“So I’ll just bandage this up…” the medic continued, apparently having been talking this whole time.

The Generalleutnant waved a hoof at the medic “excuse me for a moment.”

Getting to his hooves, the Generalleutnant trotted over to the prisoners and readied himself to ask them a few questions. Peiper arrived at the prisoners and felt mild satisfaction when the soldiers stood at attention. The ponies meanwhile looked up at him with pure hate. Peiper had mostly fought on the Crystal front during the war and had gained somewhat of a reputation after ordering the Mt Ellsberg massacre and several smaller mass executions.

“What unit are they with?” Peiper demanded from the closest PanzerGrenadier.

“3rd Crystal Imperial infantry, its a long-rage penetration unit, special forces. They go by the name ‘Chindits’.” The soldier explained.

“Special forces eh.” Peiper looked down at the three crystal ponies. None of them were bound and physically restrained, held down only by the threat of a bullet to the skull. “Unfortunately that means that they probably won’t talk no matter what we do, at least we know there’s a special forces brigade somewhere around here.”

The three surviving ponies scowled up at Peiper, probably wishing their glares would burn hole through his skull. Peiper smirked, deciding on their fate, he switched to Equish to torment the captives “drain them for all they’ve got then shoot them, let’s not waste our time with prisoners.”

Peiper turned and took a few steps away. The mechanised infantry behind him let out an evil chuckle, loading rifles and priming spells on their horns. Readying himself to hear the screaming and pleading of the tortured ponies, draining did hurt a lot after all. He really did love their screams, ponies were never quiet when they died.

Instead of screaming and agony, Peiper heard a single shout in Equish “wait I’ll talk!”

Peiper turned and saw the centre pony looking right at him. A wicked smile appeared on the Changelings face “really! I believe that means you’ll be the first ever pony in the special forces to spill the beans.” He laughed in Equish, allowing the pony to hear him.

The pony turned his head and looked down at the cobble road “spare my men and I’ll tell you where the brigade is.” The pony sounded truly defeated.

Peiper trotted towards the pony. He stood over him and pointed a hoof at the pony. A pair of PanzerGrenadiers strode over and roughly lifted the pony to his hooves. The pony dusted himself off. “I’ll spare them, but the information comes first.”

The pony nodded in defeat and reached a hoof into his coat pocket. Peiper chuckled as he levitated his cigarettes and matches out of his jacket. Taking one out of the box, he balanced it between his lips before and was about the strike a match before looking at the Crystal pony again. Peiper froze, his mouth dropped open and the cigarette fell loosely onto the snow-covered road beneath him. A delicate snow started to fall on the town, making the whole scene seem serene and peaceful, it might have been in any other situation.

The Crystal pony held a grenade in his hoof, its pin falling to the ground. None of the PanzerGrenadiers had reacted either, a couple of them were lifting the other ponies up, and the other two were joking about the weakness of ponies. It was just Peiper and the Crystal pony staring at each other.

The Generalleutnant expression was one of abject horror, he could almost feel the explosion before it happened. He just froze to the ground and found himself unable to move. The Crystal pony meanwhile smiled and muttered “bitch”

Then the grenade detonated. Peiper felt no pain as fragments of metal passed straight through his body, just shock. One metal fragment found his neck and the brain stem. As he collapsed, he recognised the sound of gunfire and the blurry black shapes of other changelings. By the time he hit the ground, Peiper was dead.

2nd Brigade 16th Division 4 miles ahead

Generalleutnant Josef Dietrich lay out of the commander hatch of his tank, an exceedingly rare Maus heavy tank. His Brigade was moving in two columns slowly down the single road towards Chicoltgo, taking their time and in no real hurry. No ponies had made themselves known yet, it was all quiet, unlike the hell 5th and 6th army were grinding through.

Some Changelings were even starting to say that the Crystal ponies may have even withdrawn all the way back to their capital, planning to anchor their line on the city’s bubble shield. Dietrich was inclined to agree with this assessment, where else could they be?

The Changeling Generalleutnant despised his current position in the Heer, it was beneath him. The former Queens Guard was from one of the most noble families in Vestiopolis! How could he be reduced to serving alongside these commoners eluded him. One of his rivals must have sabotaged him, separating him from protecting their ever-glorious queen.

Just about the only thing they understood was fear, he regularly had to draw lots and shoot some random grub just to keep the rest in line. Soon enough he’d be away from here, just as soon as the honourable General Pharynx approved his proposal to execute the entire division. The chief of staff had assured him that Pharynx had seen the proposal after all, surely he would agree with his assessment.

The worst of them was Oberst Joseph Von Radowitz, that commoner scum seemed to take a certain delight in arguing with him. He seemed to think the executing their soldiers was too harsh, going to far as to report the behaviour to the righteous HivesMarshal Trimmels chief of staff. Obviously Dietrich had secretly blocked the report, even if it was totally false, it would still be considered a mark on his record.

He couldn’t just kill that snake Radowitz unfortunately, he’d somehow weaselled his way into the eye of their glorious queen, something about heroism in the line of duty or something. With murder and assassination out of the question, he just decided to continually sent the troublesome Oberst on the most dangerous missions available. The campaign had proved sorely lacking in the particularly deadly kind, so Dietrich contented himself with sending him on advanced scout missions, anything to get his bothersome complaints away.

Oberst Radowitz was currently 2 miles forward, leading a few armoured platoons on some stupid patrol towards Chiocoltgo. He’d even given orders for him to take the city if enemy resistance was lacking, hopefully he’d die in the endeavour. Chances of that were unlikely though, the Ponies were probably never going to show up.

Dietritch’s leading brigade continued forwards, just meandering along in no real hurry to be anywhere. Sure they had been ordered to make the best possible speed, but what was the real hurry anyway? Soon enough, the Equestrians would fold and they’d be in Canterlot, why would their speed even matter.

The day, formerly filled with the sound of chatting changelings and the rumbling of vehicle engines, was broken by the sound of distant gunfire. Instead of subsiding a few seconds later, the distant gunfire was joined a minute later by cannon-fire in increasing volume. That was unusual, cannon-fire was a bit excessive to use against civilians or militia.

Dietrich lit up his magic and switched on his radio to address the leading 2nd brigade “brigade halt, someone find out what’s going on up ahead.”

The tanks rumbled to a halt as the brigade stopped where it was. Changeling PanzerGrenadiers riding on tanks or in halftracks hopped out and started to lazily stretch their legs and spread out. They weren’t in any rush, or had any reason to worry about security. The sounds of the battle ahead of them only got louder, now he thought about it, the sounds were coming from the general direction of Oberst Radowitz recon platoon. Maybe the rat had actually found something?

As if to confirm it, a radio operator ran up besides his Maus tank and saluted “sir, Oberst Radowitz reports major enemy position. He requests reinforcements sir!” The small radioling saluted and shouted stiffly, she was obviously a new recruit, acting with manners right out of training.

At that moment, Dietrich could have kissed her. Radowitz had stumbled across something with a good chance to kill him and needed help. What sort of commanding officer would be if he didn’t aid his underlings. The Generalleutnant scanned the road ahead of them, it would be such a same to lose any vehicles to mines on the way there.

Smirking, Dietrich turned to the mare “very good, tell Radowitz we’re on the way.”

The mare saluted stiffly and strode away as Dietritch clicked on his radio again “2nd brigade, sweep the road ahead for mines.”

Dietrich laughed, that should delay his brigade for a while and be relatively believable to any higher ups who questioned it. With any luck, Radowitz would be dead within the half hour, and 16th division would be in Chicoltgo by nightfall. Today would be a good day for Generalleutnant Josef Dietritch.

It was at that exact moment that the tank at the front of the column detonated following a whistle. The turret flew into the air as its ammo racks exploded. Fuel drums tied to the side burst and erupted into flame as a wave of heat expanded out in every direction. It was a terrifying incident, the heavily armoured Panzer III being taken out by a single shot from an unknown location could be bad for the whole brigade.

If it was a minefield, it was a threat, but not a huge one. The real threat came from the whistling sound just before the leading Panzer detonated, that indicated some kind of Anti-tank gun. Reacting quickly, Dietrich clicked on his radio on to shout at the leading Brigade “Coil Coil!” He barked at them.

Without knowing where the fire was coming from, the only option was to put guns in every direction. The tanks and armoured vehicles started to roll in different directions and form circles of five and pointing their turrets out in every direction. It was a common and easy defensive tactic used by every changeling panzer.

Even as they formed up, AT shells started to whiz around them and crash into the ground. On shell bounced off the tank just ahead of him, another dug into a tank somewhere further back and destroyed it. This was a major enemy formation, Dietrich estimated at least 15 guns. The enemy fire also seemed to be concentrating on just 1 tank at a time instead of dispersing their fire.

“Pakfront east!” A Changeling voice shouted over the radio.

A Pakfront? But that was a griffon and changeling tactic, massing anti-tank guns and focusing on individual vehicles from concealed positions. It was a highly effective tactic which griffon infantry divisions had often used to drive away enemy armour. But why were the Equestrians using a griffon tactic, better question, how did they even know about it?

“Muzzle flashes west!” Another voice shouted over the radio. At least 30 guns, Dietrich estimated.

“Pakfront south!” Yet another voice screamed. At least 45 guns he once again reassessed.

They were caught in a caught in a killing field, no question about it. Three points of concentrated fire, each highly organised and picking them off, it was a trap. Dietrich shouted various orders into the radio, trying to coordinate fire. They were now sitting ducks in their stationary coil. It was a catastrophic strategic blunder of epic proportions, not that he’d ever admit that.

The thrum of tank guns returned fire in every single direction, aiming to suppress and destroy the guns. PanzerGrenadiers tried to make their way towards the guns, but found themselves similarly suppressed by Equestrian machine guns and rifles. A vicious small arms duel began, bullets bouncing off the dirt and armour of tanks.

At that moment, a Changeling radio operator arrived at his tank. It was the same mare from before, she’d apparently run through the chaos of the battle to reach him. The mare banged her hoof on the side of the take, trying desperately to get Dietrich’s attention over the screams of battle. The changeling officer glared down at the mare “What!” He shouted.

“Report from the back, Generalleutnant Peiper’s dead, you have the Kampfgrupper!” She shouted up at him.

“Fuck me!” He exclaimed, the Generalleutnant clicked his radio on again “all units, form Panzerkeil and drive towards the Pakfronts.” He glanced down at the radiomare “call air support, we need…”

Then an anti-tank round found his tank. The shell found a chink in the Maus heavy tanks armour and made its way inside. Improperly stored ammunition was caught by the shell and joined the fireball which consumed the vehicle. As flame rose through the vehicle, cooking his crew alive, the queens guard saw and felt a bright flash, before it was all over for him.

Several minutes earlier, 4th platoon 2nd Brigade 16th division.

Oberst Radowitz peered through the light snowfall, his eyes locked onto a lone house ahead of him. Amble Cottage the map had called it, it was one of the landmarks his navigator was using to direct the armoured platoon. Lighting up his magic, he grabbed a pair of binoculars hanging around his neck and lifted them to his eyes. Something just wasn’t right.

The building sat just before the crest of a small ridge, an almost serene place to live in peacetime. Dry brick walls, snowy roads, a great view; reminded Radowitz of his farm back home. Maybe he’d buy this place after the war, be nice to settle down in. would certainly be a nice place to retire to, build some greenhouses off his war savings and grow grape vines for wine, sounded like a lovely plan.

But that nagging feeling wouldn’t leave him, the house was beautiful and the horizon empty, but his senses just screamed danger. He’d run scouting missions before, they all gave jitters and restlessness, but this was different. It wasn’t jitters, it was just that feeling which all soldiers developed after years on the frontline; a seventh sense for detecting danger. Even his men were on high alert, the din of chatter having died down. Radowitz scanned the house again, something was just wrong. It was probably nothing, but on the off chance it was something…

Radowitz looked up as the sky, clouds were massing over them, and snow starting to fall. Wind was picking up and starting to obscure vision, a battle in this worsening weather would have to be at close range and deadly. Casualties could be huge for both sides, possibly even seeing the total annihilation of one of their forces.

The Oberst clicked his radio on “platoons halt.” He ordered the vehicles.

His three platoons were an unusually large group, made up entirely of armoured vehicles. Infantry would normally be assigned to a unit like his, but they were bogged down in mud some miles back. Non the less, his formation was still a powerful one containing capable vehicles and experienced crews. Their armoured vehicles

Two STUG’s, two Panzer IV and four Panzer III’s made up the armoured centre of the formation. The numbers came from their 12 attached Luchs light tanks (sometimes called IFV’s) and three Hummel artillery guns. At 23 armoured vehicles, his three platoons constituted near half a panzer brigade; although having far fewer heavy tanks than would be expected. Radowitz himself commanded from a STUG IV, he was trained as an assault gun leader after all.

The armoured columns stopped almost immediately, their well-maintained breaks working perfectly to stop the multi-ton vehicles. The crews of the vehicles waiting with rapt anticipation for their Oberst’s orders. Despite waiting with total discipline, the commanders did also understand the importance of working on their own initiative. If one his tankers saw something, they’d shoot.

His formation moved in two columns spaced 30m apart, Radowitz’s assault gun led the left column, the other assault gun leading the right. The house causing so much unease was closest to the right column “Column 2 lead, could you point your gun at that house.” He ordered.

“Roger” came the reply from the other vehicle.

The assault gun fired up its engine and ran its treads in opposite directions. With STUG’s having a fixed gun, the entire vehicle needed to rotate to face the target. The vehicle turned on the spot until its heavy gun was pointed right at the small house. After a moment of silence, gunfire erupted from the house.

The gunfire was noticeably automatic, then an anti-tank rifle joined the crack of the guns. Lead bounced off the slowed armour of the changeling tanks as the armoured vehicles held their fire. The automatic fire and AT rifle told Radowitz all he needed to know, UPF forces. Unless his vehicles got close enough for their bazookas to penetrate, they weren’t in any real trouble.

The Oberst clicked his radio on and calmly addressed his platoon “pop HE in there would you.”

After a second’s delay, the second STUG fired a high explosive round into the house. The shell exploded inside the house and blew its windows out. Plaster, brick and wood intermixed as its walls caved in. The small and once serene cottage was reduced to a pile of smoke rubble by a single shot.

“Hold fire.” Radowitz calmly ordered. Without a house, he might be able to get a cheaper price for the land at least.

An explosion rocked the ground next to them and sent up a wave of snow which obscured Radowitz’s vision. Despite this, his tank commanders acted independently and quickly to neutralise the threat. Calls of a bearing and distance echoed over the radio before the drilling of an auto cannon and echo of a single shell filled the air.

“Target destroyed.” One of his commanders reported.

With the air around him clearing, Radowitz grabbed his binoculars in his magic and pointed them at something flaming near the base of the house. He very briefly registered the sight of a panzer III’s barrel smoking before focusing on the target. His heart dropped, it wasn’t an AT gun, that was a tank. “Looks like a tank.” He quickly reported to the platoons.

One of the other commanders from the second column confirmed his worst fears a moment later “I can see it better, it’s definitely a Crusader. Looks like its hull down.”

The formation remained stationary in the absence of orders, Radowitz himself debating his options. It wasn’t unusual for random militia or rogue civilians to take occasionally pot shots at them with rifles and shotguns, so they weren’t any stranger to getting shot at. AT rifles and automatic weapons were a worry though, the position and armament of their attackers were similar to UPF patrol pickets. The presence of a tank was also frightening, Crystal imperial forces loved to concentrate their tanks in a way similar to the Reich, tanks were never alone.

Glancing up again, Radowitz judged the weather. The wind had picked up and snow was falling by thicker. The powdered snow was being whipped up into a haze and obscuring vision even more than before. Visibility was a poor, and the noise made by the wind made any audial recon completely impossible.

Advancing ran the risk of running into an armoured enemy force, outnumbered and in horrible conditions, they would either be annihilated or have a brief advantage. Holding here on the other hand would mean reinforcements, but any nearby Crystal Imperial artillery could zero in on their position and a strong counterattack could throw them back.

Taking in a sharp breath, Radowitz click his radio on and made his decision “battle stations, go tanks lead on Panzerkeil.”

As a wave of confirmations came by the radio, the 6 panzers of the formation slid out of column and made a wedge formation linking the two groups, the 12 Luchs tanks formed an identical 2 width wedge behind the leading panzers. The two STUG’s meanwhile stayed where they were, needing space to rotate if they wanted to fire. Last of all, he three Hummel’s sat some 20m the STUG’s, the self propelled guns would be very vulnerable in a battle. Their best bet would be to stay back and pick targets off at a distance.

“Where are we D?” Oberst Radowitz asked his driver through the intercom.

“Just crossed into 73 easting of Chicoltgo.” Came the reply from his driver. The young mare was a nice ling, an aspiring race car driver drafted into the tank corps following the great retreat.

Radowitz clicked his radio on “PR, report enemy contact at 73 easting, armoured contact included.”

The Pirate Radio was a lovingly nicknamed Panzer III in his platoon. The tank had been outfitted with a more powerful radio than the rest of the vehicles in the group, and informally designated their communications vehicle. Although Radowitz doubted Dietrich would do anything about it, it was his duty to report contact regardless.

“Platoon advance, keep it slow.” Radowitz ordered.

The armoured vehicles slowly made their way towards the crest of the ridge, maintaining their formation as they went. Their Oberst only prompting them a couple of times to stop drifting and maintain a constant speed. Maintaining their formation, the armoured column advanced at a slow speed, the crews now fully alert. Radowitz himself traded his officer’s hat for a helmet, and gripped his machine gun with both hooves.

The leading panzers crossed over the ridge and disappeared briefly from the view of their leader. A few seconds later, the STUG’s crossed the lip of the ridge. When the tank levelled out, Radowitz could only balk at what was before him. The panzers had completely stopped, he could see their commanders frozen, unsure what to do.

Just ahead of them was a dense defensive concentration of UPF forces. Blockhouses, trenches, ditches, tanks, batteries and light vehicles dotted the area ahead of them at just 500 meters out, that’s how close they were to each other. Close enough to shout insults at each other, with no cover between the two groups. The banner of the Crystal empire flying high over the defences, proudly defiant to the changelings.

At an immediately glance, Radowitz could tell they had more tanks than him. He saw firefly’s and Crusader’s, both strong vehicles, the front group of which were rotating their turrets on his vehicles. The ponies were barely even surprised, reacting immediately as small arms fire began to pepper his tanks.

Making his split-second decision, Radowitz clicked his radio on and barked a deadly order “independent targeting, fire at will! Charge them! PR report we have been decisively engage at 73 easting and need immediate reinforcements!”

The armoured vehicles of his group made their standing start and accelerated to their top speed and charged the crystal ponies. Autocannons mounted on Luchs tanks sprayed in a constant deafening drone, pausing only as the crews chucked new belts of ammunition on. Tracers from high calibre machine guns crossed the closing distance like deadly fireworks. Two of the leading panzers knocked out a pair of Crusader’s making up the line closest them.

Not to be outdone, the ponies returned with a ferocious barrage. Shells from Firefly and Crusader tanks landed among the charging changeling vehicles, some bounced off armour, and a few exploded on the hulls of the leading tanks. AT fire from batteries punched holes in the air and tracers from machine guns aimed high at tank commanders and gunner optics. An AA gun even depressed its four barrels low enough to spray airburst rounds at the Heer forces.

Holding down the trigger on his 50cal and spraying a blockhouse, Radowitz shouted at his gunner “take out that AA gun!”

Wordlessly, the driver accelerated one of the STUG’s treads to turn it to face the AA gun. A HE shell left the barrel as screamed towards the AA gun as AP rounds smashed into the ground where the vehicle would have been if it hadn’t changed course. The HE shell found its mark as the gun went up in a fireball.

The Assault Gun commander continued to spray his 50cal at muzzle flashes and smoke. It was an almost out of body experience as Radowitz shouted targets and the STUG’s swerved and fired off shells at the various targets. All the while, bullets bounced off the armoured vehicle and explosions buffeted the exposed officer.

With the range only decreasing, the ferocity of the engagement increased. Crystal Ponies threw grenades as the weight of fire only increased. One armour piercing shell flew right by Radowitz’s STUG moments before a wave of heat and terrible screeching of bending metal hit him from behind. Without even looking around to confirm one of their Hummels was gone, Radowitz directed his Assault Gun to knock out the battery responsible.

With the changing panzers now inside the first layer of the defences, order and communication completely broke down. With every vehicle taking fire from at least 3 directions and the Crystal Imperial tanks continuing their ferocious return fire, any sort of strategy other than bash their armoured vehicles against the opponent was completely worthless with the range sometimes being as short as throwing distance. This range was confirmed by Crystal ponies trying to throw grenades into the open commanders hatch of a leading panzer. Radowitz watched the silhouette of the tank commander catch the grenade in his magic and throw it right back at them.

The panzers in the frontline were absorbing an enormous amount of punishment, far more than the designers intended. One of the tanks had its turret bent at an impossible angle, the crew meanwhile threw grenades out of open hatches and chucked fire out from pistols and a panzerfaust. Another Panzer was on fire, but still moving forwards and throwing out a spirited return fire. By some miracle, all 6 of the panzers were still moving and shooting.

The Luchs IFV’s meanwhile were taking the punishment far worse off, one vehicle had its treads blown clean off and was rendered immobile. The autocannon still spitting lead into a pillbox as the commander leant out of the turret, clutching a pistol in his magic and firing at a foxhole. Radowitz’s STUG passed by the immobile IFV and briefly made eye contact with its commander, the two nodded at each other before looking away and continuing the battle.

One particularly unlucky Luchs was being pounded by rifle grenades from crystal infantry, the crew inside probably being thrown around like maracas. Crystal ponies had attempted to scale another, clutching satchels of explosives and going for the hatches in a show of unfathomable bravery. The vehicle commander, not to be outdone, clambered out of the turret and was wrestling with one of the ponies, striking him repletely with a tire iron. Despite this, the ponies comrades still went for the open hatch with explosives, Radowitz had put a quick halt to that with his machine gun.

As he reloaded his machine gun, Radowitz watched in horror as a Crystal Pony exited a foxhole and sprinted at another one of the Luchs. Clutching a bazooka, the pony reached the tank and pressed the barrel against its side. The resulting blast blew the suicidally brave pony to pieces, but also destroyed the Luchs. Its turret being blown into the air by the resulting secondary explosions. Radowitz’s assault gun swerved around the wreck and shook as another shell was let loose by the gunner.

Amid the brutality of the battle, one thing was however clear, the changelings were winning. The momentum and tenacity of the Heer vehicles and their crews had driven a wedge into the Crystal imperial defensive formation. Additionally, only 2 of the Changeling tanks had been fully destroyed, sure some were immobilised and others stripped of weapons, but only 2 actually fully destroyed, and one of those was a basically useless Hummel. The Crystal Imperial tanks and vehicles meanwhile were mostly burning hulks or abandoned by their crews.

Finally, the heavy return fire subsided as the last Crystal Pony tank was destroyed. The Crusader, whose gun was blown in, had accelerated a driven right into the side of a panzer, nearly flipping it. With the front of the tank mangled and its commander being shot, the vehicle was effectively destroyed. The remaining infantry were scattering into the hills in every direction or throwing up their hooves in surrender. Radowitz clicked on his radio and ordered the Platoons to halt and cease their fire. The gunfire stopped as everything suddenly became very still.

A few drivers from the panzers and Luchs quickly clambered out of their vehicles, rifles in hand, and ran about the surrendering ponies. They began to coax the Crystal Ponies out their foxholes and trenches and line them up in front of the tanks. Radowitz would never dream of gunning down prisoners, but it was best to keep the prisoners where he could easily see them.

One fun sight was the Luchs commander who had clambered out of his turret was still alive, clutching a tire iron in his magic and looking no worse for wear. Glancing back, Radowitz realised that they were on the other side of the defensive concentration, having smashed right down the middle. The absolutely anarchy was totally overshadowed by his surprise at the two Hummels still behind him. One was riddled with bullets, the other’s superstructure was totally wrecked but somehow still intact.

A pair of very smug looking gunners waved at the officer from the ruined open superstructure. Both of them hefted rifles and were surrounded by the spent bullet casings. The normally stoic officer whose personal motto was ‘don’t let them see the real you’ actually laughed and shouted back at them “I legitimately thought you’d died.”

“Yeah we did too.” One of the crewmen shouted back “AT shell blew our gun and ammo off before they exploded somewhere behind us.”

Radowitz laughed as he looked forward at the panzer commanders. He could see and hear them laughing in disbelief at what had just happened. Had they really just driven right through an impossibly dense defensive concentration of Crystal tanks and come out nearly unscathed? Yes, yes they just had.

One of the leading panzer commanders lit up his radio and let out a deep breath “I’d say there were 25-30 tanks and some 30-40 other vehicles there. Sir, how the fuck are we alive?”

Radowitz laughed over the radio, letting the rest of his men hear his incredulous tone. Before the Oberst could answer, one of the other vehicle commanders piped up “a mixture of divine intervention and 3 inches of steel.”

“And some damn good shooting, I’ll see if I can get us a double ration of schnapps tonight.” Radowitz proclaimed to a collective cheer, even his own crew cheered in joy at the prospect of more schnapps.

The Changeling smiled as he clicked his radio on again “alright let’s make a coil and wait for our infantry to catch up.”

As the vehicles started to form a coil formation, and the pony prisoners were corralled into the centre. The radio crackled and the familiar voice of the PR appeared “err, Oberst?”

“Go.” Radowitz ordered plainly.

“News from command, they say…” The radioling paused before muttering “shit.”

“What is it operator?” Radowitz questioned, now quite intrigued by the apprehension which had dragged itself into the lings voice.

“They say… Generalleutnant’s Peiper and Deitrich are dead, and you have the Kampfgrupper.” The voice said slowly and deliberately.

Stunned for a moment, Dietrich took off his helmet and rubbed his bare head with a hoof before concurring with the radio operator “shit.”

Author's Note

Peiper is based on General Peiper from WW2 (surprising I know).
Dietrich is based on General Dietrich from WW2 (surprising I know).
Radowitz is based on General Radowitz from WW2 (Surprising I know)

The large engagement at the end is based on the Tank Battle of 73 Easting from the first gulf war, specifically the skirmish which eagle troop took part in. While Eagle troop lost no vehicles and took only minor damage in the actual battle of 73 Easting, I upped the anti and gave Radowitz's platoons a lot more punishment. Speaking of Radowitz, he's going to become a recurring character in Operation Alicorn Sunset and we'll head back to him occasionally. The pony who uses a bazooka at point-blank-range, killing themselves in the process is inspired by an American soldier (who's name I unfortunately could not find) who did the exact same thing to a Panzer IV during the battle of the Bulge.

The Commissariat mentioned near the start of the chapter refers to the name of the British logistics and food supplying division of the British army during WW2. The Ponies will also be using mainly British equipment such as Crusaders, Firefly's (the British version of the Sherman tank) and other stuff from boats all the way down to guns. The obvious exception being Stalliongrad who uses Soviet stuff. When/If I finally get around to them in this series, the River Federation will be using US equipment.

Next Chapter will have a brief interaction between Chrysalis and Trimmel after a short time skip of a couple days, before meandering down to fleet headquarters where we'll be getting the great naval battle between the Changeling 2nd fleet and the UFP (United Ponies Front) fleet.

Crickey aye, this chapter was also a lot longer than I expected it to be, so that's fun I guess. I don't plan on this length being a regular thing, I normally try to aim between 4000-6000 words per chapter, and this exceeds that by a margin.

If anyone has questions, feel free to ask them and I'll get back to you in good order. If you have complaints, feel free to complain. I can't think of anything else to type, plus its 1AM for me, so bye for now I guess.