"Up"

The round was lifted and slammed home into the breach as the wheels kicked up dirt and dust. The powerful armoured vehicle roared along, it's heavy turret swinging about.
"Gunner, targeted sighted?" Emile licked his lips.
"Seen" the gunner reported.
The Zebra squinted through his own sight, looking out over the bushes and cratered ground. "Keep your course. Prepare to fire on my mark"
The AMX-10RC was a big, powerful beast. It's six wheels continued to roar as it's gun laid onto the target. Emile could feel the power rushing through the metal around him, through the seat and into his body. He grinned despite the sweat.
"Ready... fire"
The gunner stabbed on his control console and the 105mm gun fired. The vehicle shook, smoke filling the turret with the smell of propellant, the breach ejecting the empty shell with a loud "clang". Emile ignored it and watched the projectile fly through the air, before landing dead on the enemy tank. The fake target vanished in a cloud of smoke.
"Good hit. That's the last one done" he leaned back from the sight and wiped his eyes. "Well done boys"

The French cavalry crew sighed and nodded, the frantic range shooting over. Emile leaned back and grunted. His back squished into the side of the turret. He went to move and adjust himself, only for his arm to bang into part of the firing system. The Zebra rolled his eyes and sighed. "Merde" before grabbing waxpaper wrapped object and popping the turret hatch.
It was a slight struggle to get up. His head emerged into the French sunshine, the breeze of the moving vehicle ruffling his ears. Only for his gut to squish up against the lip of the hatch. Grunting, he planted his hand and pushed. His bulging pot belly was wedged into the hatch. Just his luck.
He strained and pushed, grunting before his gut finally popped free and rested atop the hatch with a loud slapping sound. Relaxed, he unwrapped his sandwich and took a bite. He leaned back, hanging an arm over the hatch, Hussars beret perched upon his striped head. Munching away as his stomach gurgled.
"Another one from your girl?" the loader called up, opening more ventilation hatches.
"Yes.. a good one. She makes them well"
"We can tell, your waistline shows it" the gunner snorted and the crew descended into laughter as the armoured vehicle drove along.

Emilie just shook his head and took another bite. Let them joke. Eveline sure knew how to make him a good sandwich...


Another older picture from the incredible  Volkenfox for my furry Cold War setting. This time going to the (sort of) NATO partner of France!