1942

Chapter 2 | Training, Danger and Blowing up stuff

NOTICE: I do not own any of the photos in this story, I simply found them on google

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A cool breeze swepted through the tree's. There was a bit of snow falling on the ground. We all stood at attention, facing a Swedish Officer. He had black hair, he wore something that resembled an Ushanka, and had an Eyepatch.

"Welcome to Basic Training my name is Elli, for becoming a Tanker. Now before we begin, I would like to mention something very important.  If you want to become a tanker, remember the consequences"  and he rambled on about maintenance and code of conduct and what not but then he said: "The chances of a tank surviving a hit, is 1/3"

"Well sir, with all due respect, what is the tank kill to death ratio?"

"3-3'4"

These words stung into me, I felt like a sword had been stabbed in my chest. I looked around, and other cadets, as well as my friends looked shocked/worried. 

"Well, does anyone want to bugger out of this program?"

No one said a word. Everyone here was Finnish, and had at some point lived in Finland. Despite them being as scared as hell, they wanted to kick the Soviets out of Finland. 

Training went nearly as I had expected. We were all grouped up, and thankfully, I was grouped with Karl, Hans, Klaus. We then all debated on who should do what. In the end, Karl was the driver, Hans was the loader, and Klaus became the gunner. And me? Well I am the commander, and I am nervous. I wanted a more passive role, like maybe the loader, but since everyone wanted to be the commander, and since I didn't want to be the Commander, they anonymously elected me as the Commander. After that, we went to the Depot, and boy oh boy, was it amazing

I had never seen so many tanks in one spot, and before I could start wondering about, Elli said to us "The commies are bombing the living light out of Finland, so they moved the factories here" he said. We walked through the depot, and arrived at our barracks. Each crew had their own living quarters. We walked in and dumped our bags on the floor. Karl explored the room, while Hans collapsed onto a bunk bed. 

"Can't believe that in a few months, we will be out there, fighting..." said Klaus, fixing his hair in the mirror. 

The next day, we officially started training the next day, with there being specific officers for each role. I of course, attended the Commanders class, and it was the hardest. We had to learn tactics, how to spot hidden tanks, how to maintain etc etc. Soon, after about a month, my schedule was like this: I would wake up, get dressed, wash up, attend class, have lunch, attend class. Yep.

But then soon, after 2 months, we received word that soon, we would be assigned our tanks. And since we had finished all that studying and stuff, We went to a bar not far from the training depot. As we entered, eyes began looking at us. 

"By any chance, do you have month old scotch?" I asked the bar keeper

"Well, actually yes, let me get it out for you" and with that he left the counter and entered the basement. When he came out again and poured for us, he asked:

"When are yall gonna go out to the front lines and kick some Communist arse ey?" he asked

We laughed, and drank. Soon, some other tank crews from the depot arrived to the bar. A game of darts broke out, and one guy somehow managed to miss the dart board, and instead the dart landed on someone's head. Though instead of a fight everyone just had a big laugh about it. We also discussed what nickname our tank should have and we decided on "Savutanko" or "Smokepole", but we decided to officially name it Paula, after Otto Paula, Klaus's Grandfather who was a tank ace in WW1.