Two weeks had gone by since I had gotten my new name. I had become as integral to the team as the gunner or the loader. I was the new spotter for the team, and they all agreed that I had the sharpest eyes of all of them. They gave me a pair of binoculars, and I determined the range of the enemy tanks. It didn’t seem like killing to me. All I did was see how far away they were. The thump of the 88, the whistle, an explosion, and that was that. I never saw any people die out in the open. It seemed queer, that they could be so positive while surrounded by death all the time. It was definitely something amazing. And that positivity was definitely shared by all of these men, who were such fantastic friends. It made me feel great to know that I was a part of this amazing team. And this optimistic attitude made my losing them the hardest thing I have ever had to experience…

That day had started out clear as glass, and everyone felt great. Keim, who was sort of a father figure to everyone, roused everyone really easily, which was unusual, seeing as how usually everyone is up in a matter of minutes when Keim wakes them up. They all had breakfast, and I went for a walk. It was very pleasant out, the sun was shining gleefully, and a slight breeze was blowing. It was a beautiful day. Even the commanders decided to give us a break! We only had to go on a patrol that day. We left at around eleven that morning, and sped off with a spring in our step. We all talked, and rode around, feeling very upbeat. We rounded a mountain, and came back around it, then proceeded to head home. Unfortunately, we neglected to notice that we had expended too much fuel on the way to the mountain. However, soon that would be the least of our worries.

When we were but fifty kilometers from the base, a fierce wind began to blow, flaring everyone’s field jackets out, and generally making us lose our caps. I somehow managed to hold onto mine, and put my aviator goggles on my face, to protect my eyes. With them on, I looked like a mechanical Rommel!
“We’d better shut up tight! Looks like a sandstorm’s coming!” I bellow into the tanks compartment.
“You sure?!” Keim yells back to me.
“Positive! It’s” I zoom in and gauge its distance “about ¾ of a kilometer away, and closing fast!”
“Alright men, buckle down, Old Lady Africa is dusting off!”
I put the barrel cover on the 88 and scramble inside, and get pelted with the yellow sand before I manage to get in and secure the hatch. I turn and look at the crew, and they all eye me strangely.
“What? What is it?”
There is silence for a few moments, then Paul snickers. “You look like a yellow Labrador!”
I look down and see that I am nearly coated in the fine yellow sand. I remove my goggles, revealing my perfectly clean lenses, and everyone just laughs. I chuckle as well, imagining how silly I look. I take my coat and pants off, and make a veritable pile of yellow dust after brushing them off. I put my pants back on, minding my metal tail, and put my coat on, minding my steel claws. I brush my face off, being sure to get the dust out of every rivet, weld, and crevice on my face, and clean my muzzle.
“So,” Schmesser says, finally putting the tanks brakes on.
“what do we do now?”
“I guess we wait.” Hans says.
“That’s about all we can do, in a storm like this.” Keim remarks, after looking through the drivers periscope.
“That sand is so thick I can’t see the sun. Looks like we’re going to be bogged down here for a long while.”
The crewmembers get a discouraged look on their faces.
“Hey, it’s no reason to fret. We’ve got water and food for at least three days, right?” I state bluntly.
“Besides, I don’t even need it! I need the sun though.” I motion towards the roof of the tank.
The other members nod.
“So, all we can do is wait.”
I felt we were in it.