MrsAlvindseville is my co-writer for this story and I forgot to mention that she doesn't write the battle scenes only the home front. Also I must warn you now this story is very violent, a lot of cursing, and a lot racial slurring. However this is not meant to be racial. It was said in a time of war and I am trying to capture the mindset that was present during this time period!

Alvin's POV(Africa January 1943)

"FUCKING SHIT!" I screamed as I saw "The Desert Fox's army" advancing on our position! "FUCK! RETREAT!" I yelled to my small platoon of lighting fast tanks. FUCK I muttered under my breath. "WHERE FUCK IS OUR GODDAMN COMMANDER?:" I screamed out looking around frantically. I had 5 tankers under my command as acting platoon leader as ours had gotten sick and was rushed to the aid station some 50 miles behind us. I couldn't believe that our commander was in a GODDAMN HOTEL! 90 FUCKING MILES BEHIND THE FRONTLINE. We were at a pass that had some 2,000 men at the opening, 30 to 40 tanks, four or five miles behind the opening of the pass. We also had some artillery support. But it wouldn't have been enough as we were hit with some 100 enemy Panzer IV tanks supported by some 10,000 enemy soldiers.

My tank made a hasty turn around. I was in the gun turret which turn 180 degrees so that is was facing the rear. We opened up with out 75mm armor piercing round. (We were only one of a handful that could penetrate the enemy armor. BAM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! We opened fire trying to slow down the enemy. Then we began to take fire.

KABAM! KRRSLAM! BLAM! The shells were falling all around us with a deafening roar. If that wasn't enough were getting bombed and strafed by the enemy airplanes.

As we were making our way out of the combat zone we heard a whizzing sound as bullets went singing by us. We realized we were taking machine gun fire from the fast approaching enemy tanks. I was in the command part of the open turret and opened up with a return fire to help suppress the enemies machine gun fire. The .50 cal roared to life as I let of burst at the same time our main battle gun cut loose. The two noises combined where earth shattering and mind numbing. "NOOOOOOO!" I screamed just as I saw a 500 lb. bomb plunging straight down heading for my tank. I flashed back to the last time saw Brittany and my kids.

Alvin's POV(Last week of May 1942, USA).

I had spent my last free week with my family. I wanted to enjoy every moment of the day I could with my children. At night my time was totally devoted to my wife. Brittany told me she wanted to make my last night at home special, so she sent my children and sisters-in-law out for the night. It was just the two of us.

"Brittany, you look amazing," I said. My eyes outlined her lingerie-clad figure. I pulled her closer to me and kissed her passionately. Holding my wife was the best feeling in the world.

Brittany giggled in my arms. "Oh, Alvin."

I stared into her crystal clear blue eyes for a moment. My heart was breaking thinking of how I was going to miss her. Brittany pulled away and sat down on our bed. She crossed her legs and motioned for me to come over to her. I knelt down in front of her and kissed her stomach and chest.

Brittany let out a tiny squeak. "Alvin!"

I pushed her back onto the bed and hovered over her. I kissed her neck. Brittany moaned as I lay on top of her. I tried not to let my passion get the best of me. I didn't want to loose control and be too rough with her. She was so delicate. With in the next few minutes what little clothes we had on were on the floor. I buried my face in Brittany's breasts. They were quite large for her small frame. I kissed them and held them in my hand. Brittany let out a moan as I entered her. She dug her nails into my back and demanded more. We tumbled passionately until we were so exhausted I couldn't move. I collapsed on top of her. We were both panting and sweating.

Brittany stroked the back of my head. "Oh, Alvin. I don't want you to go."

"Believe me if I didn't have to I wouldn't," I said as I kissed her on the cheek. I never thought I would have to leave her and our family. Now I was unsure if I was ever coming back.

I sighed as I said good-bye to Brittany in our bedroom. I couldn't help thinking this might be the last time I may see her. She kissed me on the cheek and smiled weakly. We walked arm and arm into the den where my sisters-in-law and daughters were sitting.

Martha ran to me with tears in her eyes. "Oh, Daddy. I'm going to miss you!"

I picked my oldest child up and held her close to me. "I know, Pumpkin. I'm going to miss you too."

Grace came and grabbed my leg. "Daddy, don't go!"

"Oh, Sweetie. I have to," I said. My heart was in pieces now.

Eleanor and Jeanette pried the girls off of me. They hugged me too.

"Be safe, Alvin," said Eleanor.

"Take good care of yourself," said Jeanette who's five months pregnant with my nephew.

"I will," I promised. I looked back at Brittany. "Where's John?"

"I'm right here, Dad," said John coming into the living room. He had his little suitcase with him. "I'm ready to go."

"Oh, John," sighed Brittany.

I bent down to John's level and placed my hand on his shoulder. "Son..."

"Come on, Dad. We don't want to be late," said John.

I sighed. "I'm sorry, John. You can't come with me."

"What? Why not?" asked John. He was on the verge of tears.

"I need you here to take care you your mom, aunts, and sisters. You're the man of the house while I'm away," I said. "Can you do that for me? Can you be strong?"

John held back tears and nodded. He hugged me and sobbed. "Good-bye, Dad."

I stood up and smiled at my family. I hated to leave them, but my country needed me. As I stepped outside and closed the door behind me I knew my adventure was just beginning. I had no idea what it would cost me.

Brittany's POV of Alvin's departure.

It had been five months since the bombing of Pearl Harbor. My younger sisters, Eleanor and Jeanette, had come to live with us. Simon quickly enlisted in the paratroopers, but Alvin was more reluctant. It's not that he didn't want to serve his country. Alvin just didn't want to leave me and our children. I wasn't going to argue with him. I didn't want him to go. I soon realized this wasn't optional.

I waited patiently in the kitchen for Alvin to come home. Martha and John were still at school and I'd sent Grace out with Jeanette and Eleanor. Alvin had called me earlier and said he was coming home from work early. He had something important to tell me.

"Hello, Brittany," said Alvin as he came into the kitchen. He had an open envelope in his hand.

"What's that?" I asked.

Alvin sat down at the table with me and sighed. In a calm and composed voice he told me. "Brittany, I'm being drafted."

In that moment it felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. "What?"

"I have one week to be at the base," said Alvin.

"No, this can't be right," I sobbed into Alvin's chest. "Please, tell me there's been some mistake."

I could feel Alvin stroking my hair. He tried to calm me, but he was on the verge of tears too. He kissed me softly on the cheek. I held onto Alvin. I didn't want to let him go. I kept thinking, "How am I going to get through this?" And although I didn't want to consider this the thought came to me. "What if Alvin never comes home?"

Alvin's POV(Africa January 1943)


The noise was so loud and the concussion of the air pressure was so powerful that my ears bled as well as my nose. The bomb missed up by a like 20 feet. My heart was racing; my blood was coursing fast and hard through my body. The blood streamed from my ears and nose. But I didn't feel the pain.

The air was filled with smoke and sand that was clouding my vision. I was frantic as we couldn't shoot our main gun half assed lest we run out of ammo in a crunch time.

"GOD-FUCKING-DAMN-IT!" I screamed as our tank almost collided with another. "WHAT THE FUCHIS GOING ON HERE!" I screamed into the radio.

"We have a serious bottleneck! We need you and your squad to provide covering fire so that we can get all of our support vehicles moving. The enemy advance was so fast that we didn't have time to react and we are still trying to get moving ASAP!" A frantic voice said over the radio.

"GODDAMNIT, WE'LL PROVIDE YOU COVER!" I screamed into the radio, not more scared and pissed than ever.

"Turn this son of a bitch around!" I yelled at the tank driver.

"First Platoon, ABOUT FACE! CHARGE!" I yelled into the radio that all the other tanks in my Platoon had.

We made a hasty 180 and then charged head long into the jaws of the enemy armor. Only one thought going through out minds. "Will I live or die? Will my training save my life or will it be useless in the battle that we will surely die?"

Alvin's POV(US, Fort Bragg Texas, September 1942).

"Now remember you are TAKERS! You are the biggest GODDAMN target that posses more of a threat to the enemy than a soldier. What's worse is that you men are FUCKED UP THE BUTT, Why you ask? I'll tell you why. You are driving a high speed tank that was meant for smash split tactics. You have almost no armor, you do have armor piercing rounds. But if you get hit you ARE FUCKED!" General Neil said in a loud almost somber voice, thick with a Texan accent.

"Sir permission so to speak?" I asked.

"Permission granted."

"Sir what is the point of having a high speed tank destroyer if it can't take enemy fire?" I asked with worry in my voice. I was afraid I had been assigned to a moving coffin.

"That is a good question son. But by the end of this training you will learn how to survive and out think/manure the enemy and come home in one piece." Gen. Neil said with a hint of hope in his voice.

We were all terrified, thinking about the enemy that we had been learning about for the past 4 weeks. We had all survived our 6 weeks of basic training. But then we were forced to memorize what every enemy mobile unit was. How to spot a soldier with a Panzershreck. We knew them like the back of our hands. We knew everything from the armor thickness to the size of the gun on the tank. We were ready for the enemy, now to bad it wasn't "who could guess this tank" and the first one would stop it. No it was "he who kills first walks away" and that wasn't a really pleasant idea since we had just gotten told that we were in a lightly armored tank.

Alvin's POV(Africa January 1943)

As they neared I hear a voice in my head "Ok, today's the day we start putting your tactical training to use. Now you know that you are supposed to charge the enemy and keep moving. Do not I repeat DO NOT STOP!" I realized it was Gen. Neil.

The enemy was half a mile in front of us, we were all sweating like crazy, this was first time we had ever faced the enemy. I was so scared!

"Are we going full speed or not?" I asked the tank driver.

"No I am keeping here in gear two of three. I am doing that to increase out speed just increase we need to." James called back.

"Good! I will need you run right just before the enemy columns so that we can get the advantage on them. So when we are within a quarter of mile away from the enemy increase speed." I yelled.

Now the sounds of the battle were increasing with deafening ferocity, as soon as we were within a quarter of a mile the tank surged ahead. I jumped onto the gun again. I locked and loaded the gun waiting a few more precious seconds. "To hell with saving ammo!" I thought as I opened up my .50 cal shooting hot lead at the enemy.

Just then our main battle gun opened up point blank at an enemy tank. We were taking a huge risk by turning to the right but what was the difference anyways? I mean we were just as vulnerable from the front as the side due to the lack of armor. We did however manage to reach top speeds of 60 so we could out speed their turning gun turrets.

We must have been doing something right as just then we noticed that we weren't gaining on the enemy as fast. By now my tank was hammering out 7 to 8 rounds a minute. We had knocked out about for or five tanks and hadn't taken any losses.

Just then to my right, there was a loud exploding sound, followed by screams and the smell of burning flesh. I stopped shooting and puked my guts out over the side of the tank.

That could have been ME! I could have been taken from Brittany and my kids.

We made the sharp turn to the right and raced as fast as we could. I got a call on the radio that it was all clear for us to make a run for it as the evac at the rear was moving at high speed.

With that we turned 90 degrees and made a mad dash to get the hell out of dodge.

"When having to make an all out retreat zig-zag, it makes it almost impossible for the enemy to get a lock on you!" the voice in my head told me.

"On my mark I want everyone to zig left for 10 seconds and then zag right for 20 seconds. From here on we will zig and zag for 20 seconds." I said into to radio's microphone. "MARK!"

We zigged zagged like that and to our wonderful amazement we didn't take a single hit. We retreated for some 90 miles before the enemy finally hit a brick wall. I couldn't believe that this was our greatest defeat and loss of ground in the war so far. It was terrible. I was just glad that I had made it out of there alive. I was selfish but I loved my wife so dearly that I never wanted to leave or lose her at all.

I thought our losses had been minimal. Well when we counted the tanks and the men we found that we had lost 15 tanks and 60 tankers! I was crushed, I felt this unbearable weight on my shoulders as I realized that I KILLED THOSE MEN! THEIR DEATHS AND BLOOD WERE ON MY HANDS! I felt sick to my stomach, I thought I was going to throw up again.

I couldn't stop thinking about my wife and how close she came to being a widower. I was so blessed that that bomb missed me. I decided to write her a letter.

"Dear beloved Brittany,

How are you holding up with out me? I really miss you I cannot tell you the place or date of this letter as it is restricted but when you hear about the 90 mile loss in North Africa just know that I was in that battle. It was on that day that I almost died. It was by the grace of God that I was spared. Oh how I wish I could just forget the horrors I have just witnessed. They are so…so terrible that it makes me sick just thinking about them. Like the fact that I have the blood of 60 on my hands. That is the number of men who died under my temporary command today. God I feel like a murderer! It makes me feel as if I was the one who personally shot and killed those fine young men. MEN! They aren't even old enough to buy beer, to live life, to know what it is like to find the woman of your dreams like I have. You are the only reason why I am not going trigger happy. You are my anchor and without you I would go crazy. No crazier than crazy; I would go insane without you.



Author's note; when someone goes trigger happy it means that they act without thinking. Its almost as if they have a death wish and they will do things that a sane person wouldn't. Like charging an enemy tank with a grenade is an example.

Well I hope you liked this chapter. The best way you can tell me and prove it is to review it. Now if you read Ch. 1 and didn't leave a review well then pleas go back review it. I want to know what you thought of it. Is our writing good or great? Do we need to improve on something? Let us know so that we can work in improving ourselves.