The Last Tankery Match...

Bonus Chapter-2: Top Poppers

   "M4 Sherman, 400 meters, dead ahead."
"Hold your fire. We need to wait for the go-ahead."
The commander of the Scorcher M4A3E8 Sherman opened his hatch and stuck his head out, pulling out his binoculars and using them.
He watches Kay stand halfway out of her M4's turret hatch, speaking with someone on her radio.
"Hmm, these ain't the usual folk." The commander found it unusual that a girl was operating a battle tank.
"Maybe the same ones we saw last? At town."
"Perhaps, but don'cha think we should just hit 'em and take their loot?" The gunner thought.
He thought, but knew to obey orders and not ruin the ambush.
"Just hol' on."

   After some time, the commander of the Scorcher Sherman received new orders directly from Ruster himself.
"Popper, got a new job for you."
He straightened his tanking helmet, and responded.
"Awaiting orders General Ruster,"
"Light'em'up, but don't kill 'em. I want to know if these humans are the ones."
What? What does Boss mean.
"Pardon me Commander?"
"Just disable one of 'em and capture the crew, I wanna see if these girls are the ones we met before."
Now it made more sense, and he went on to command his tanks.

   "Pierce, you take aim on the that damn Firefly. Penetrator, you keep an eye on that 76 Sherman. And we'll get that commander's M4. And Pummel, you have all the others."
He looked through his periscopes and made sure his men were doing what they were told to do.
"I'll shoot 'em first, then everyone fire when I give the order. Don't waste this opportunity, we have clear sights on Sherman's flanks."

      "Ok son, aim for right above them tracks, hit their motor." The commander told his fresh gunner.
Their new and still learning gunner took aim at where he was told.
"You mess this up then I'm doin' it."
The gunner was on their target which was Kay in her M4 Sherman.
"Fire at will soldier!"

A loud pop was heard as the 76mm cannon fired, the recoil system bounced back and returned to its original position, and a tiny bit of smoke filled the tank.
The crew watched the round fly towards the M4, but the shot was still unconfirmed as smoke blocked their view.
The smoke cleared, revealing the shot to be true.
"Got 'em!" The young Scorcher gunner cheered himself before looking back to his commander.
"It's a hit!" The commander gave his gunner an impressed smile and a high five.
"Let's give em a popper just for good measure. Loader, load APHE!!"
The sound of the loader throwing out the empty shell casing echoes in the tank.
And soon their loader rams a new fresh round into the gun breech, "UP!"

    "Everyone new plan! Shoot at 'yer targets but don't hit 'em! We gonna scatter 'em!"
"Hey Popper! We gonna get some spoils?" It was Popper's loader.
"Of course we gonna get some loot, it's part of why we're here." Their commander Popper said.
"After 'em, driver!" Popper courageously yelled, but their tank didn't budge.
Huh?
Their driver was fast asleep.
"GET 'YER ASS UP!" Popper yelled as he kicked his driver in the back.
The driver sprang up, he was clearly a heavy sleeper, and somehow managed to sleep through the sound of a 76mm gun firing.
He pushed both of his sticks forward, and the tank began to advance onto  Kay in her disabled tank.

Earlier...

    Kay opened her hatch, she could really use some fresh air. She looked around, not seeing any tanks or any sign of enemy movement.
"All girls, stop here." She gave her commands to her fellow tankers, who were all in some sort of Sherman and it's variants.
"Wait here, if you see anything fishy, then tell me immediately."
Kay sipped on a soda she had saved from earlier that day, sipping the sugary drink through a red and white straw.
"Kay, you look a little bored."
Alisa joined in through the radio.
"Can we just get this recon over with? Obviously no one has been here. None of those 'Scorchers' or whatever."
Alisa was lucky, for last night she did not witness the live execution of Anchovy.
Kay was still traumatized. She remembers Anchovy's head becoming more and more flattened hit after hit. The pink and red paste that polluted her beautiful hair. The sound of chunks of meat splattering as they hit the ground. But the twitching of her corpse was worst part for Kay.
The aftermath of the execution was stuck in her head.
Anchovy lying there with her bashed apart skull was comparable to the aftermath of someone dropping a watermelon, or the shattered gooey bits of a smashed pumpkin on the morning after Halloween.