1943, North Africa
The M3 tank was noisy. Sometimes, after it was shut down John’s ears would continue to hum which made it difficult to hear anyone. The tank was also known as a death trap. One properly dropped bomb from a Messerschmitt would usually kill the tank, and all of the occupants. It was the stuff of nightmares.
To help pass the time he would reminisce about his past life as he watched the scenery pass by. Walking through his memories was a better option than focusing on the possibility of getting up in this tin can.
Jenny Walker, and he, would go frog gigging down at the swamp when they were teenagers. He smiled at the pleasant memories flooding his mind. How I wish I could go back there now.
He allowed his thoughts to continue to drift until they came to rest on the time he kissed her for the first time. They were both 16. They’d been together ever since with the exception of this damned war. He’d even married her just after he was drafted in 1942.
A jolt felt through his feet brought him back to the present. A ball of flame greeted his view through the slit. His mouth dropped open in shock. Then, the tank stopped. What the fuck?
Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs. John squatted down and spotted the now dead driver who was slumped over in the seat. I have to get him out of there.
Reaching up he popped open the hatch and peeked out over the edge. His eyes swept the horizon looking for those Kraut planes. All he needed was a few bullets plugged into his ass. Satisfied, he pulled himself up to the top of the turret and made his way to the driver who he tried to slide off the seat.
After several tries he succeeded and he climbed down into the drivers seat. He put the tank into gear and pushed on the peddle. There was no response from the tank. Think John!
He shifted into neutral and tried starting the tank. No resonse from the seven cylinder engine. He tried a second time, and a third. It wouldn’t start. He was now a sitting duck. Jenny’s sweet smiling face filled his mind for a moment as he tried to figure out what to do.
Looking to his right he spotted another M3. He began waving his arms and shouted, “hey!” They continued rolling on westward. Maybe I can catch them if I’m quick enough.
He pulled himself back out and began to run after the moving tank. It was moving too fast and the distance was increasing as he pushed himself. Realizing he was wasting his time he stopped and sat down. His chest heaved from his exertions while attempting to catch his breath.
Closing his eyes he began to daydream about Jenny again.
The end
Powerful, glad you're still writing a bit.
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