“All units, halt at once!” An authoritative voice commanded.

“Damn it,” Lieutenant Collier, an M4 Sherman tank commander exclaimed, “Don’t worry boys, I’m sure it’s probably just Patton inspecting the whole damn column again. Some idiot must’ve left his sand hood up.” Collier’s bravado was a bluff to cover his nervousness as he signaled his second in command to make sure that theirs was down.

Collier’s driver, McGregor shouted, “What the hell are we doing? Fredendall, didn’t have us babying the idiots while he was in command. This ‘Patton’ asshole has all of us stop for ‘em, even if we’re just fine.” As McGregor finished saying that, the tank crew could already hear laughter as another squad had their hood shut by Patton himself.

Ammo loader; Gibb’s shook his head as and pointed out to McGregor,“You complain about checking sand hoods but not about the uniform enforcement? You need to get your priorities straight, McGregor.”  

McGregor shrugged and said, “I look stylish, I ain't complainin’.”

The tank crew of Hurricane sat in silence for a few more moments before the order to move out came. As McGregor once more took the controls, an explosion of sand erupted next to the Hurricane’s right track. Before Collier could order any response, his wordless thoughts were shattered by a torrent of incoming enemy fire. Hurricane rattled and bolts shook loose as shells bounced off its hull. The tank Herald of America erupted into flames as German gunners opened fire. The Herald burst open as more German shells found their mark and hit volatile ammunition.

“God damn those kraut bastards,” Collier snarled like an enraged animal. “Tony, hit that fucking tank! Gibbs, get us out of here.” Collier ordered. Tank gunner Antonio “Tony” Valenti nodded as he swiftly rotated the turret to where the German tank had last been spotted. McGregor cursed as the tank stalled on him, “Shit! Sir! I can’t get the tank to move!”

Collier shouted in frustration,  “Damn it McGregor! You get this tank moving or we are going to die here! You hear me, boy?”

McGregor made a grunt of acknowledgment, too busy coaxing the Hurricane to life. With a sound of grinding gears and protesting metal, the Hurricane started once more. Before long, it rumbled across the last of the beach until it made it on to Sicily’s rough ground. The Hurricane was soon joined by other elements of the Third Army as the rest of the column sprang to life to counter the German assault. A few supply trucks were immediately destroyed in their attempts to escape the ambush but most were able to move into better positions covered by friendly armor. Hellfire let loose like its namesake would suggest with a heavy 76mm gun and left an acrid smell of gunpowder in the lingering air. Hurricane shuddered as its 75mm gun fired and dropped smoking shells within its depths. Lieutenant Collier shouted orders that were only heard by the men of Hurricane, the fighting drowning out any other noise. Despite the fierce resistance from the tanks and infantrymen, more and more of the column began to bleed from losses. Some how, over the chaos of war, Collier began to hear a commanding voice and scanned through his periscope to see an injured man providing covering fire for several prone figures. As Collier began to order their rescue, an armored jeep appeared over a desolate, crater marked hill and laid down heavy suppressive fire from a 30 cal. mounted on the back. A figure hopped off and started helping the men aboard as he quickly fired off shots from his hand gun. Collier squinted and could almost make out the figure.

“That son-of-a-bitch Patton, I can’t believe it,” Collier said with bated breath, “he’s actually here on the front.” Though Collier could not see it, he felt the puzzled looks of the men of the Hurricane as they processed what Collier just described. All the while, the Hurricane advanced closer to Patton to the point where the tank crew could hear him despite the clattering of the machine.

Patton’s voice vehemently yelled out, “Are you yellow pansies dead or are you going to get your asses in motion and send ‘em to hell!?!” The anger and power from his voice broke them from their light stupor, then, Collier opened his hatch and responded with, “Sir, we are ready to bring the storm. Patton let loose a savage grin. “Good, gather up the rest of H company and prepare for our counter attack.” Without another glance, Patton went back to his jeep and speed off to talk to other squads. Inspired by the Patton, Collier armed the 50 cal. mounted on Hurricane and unleashed a storm of bullets upon a light German vehicle. The light armor did little to stop the 50 caliber bullets from inflicting damage, ripping holes, twisting metal, and shredding through the armor.   

After the rest of the column rallied,  they seemingly drove off the Germans. In actuality, the German commander’s mission was to disrupt the column, and with their objective done, the Germans  made a withdraw, disappearing into the desert. Once dust had settled, Collier climbed down from the 50 cal. his arms numb from the recoil. A second afterwards, the rest of his crew emerged from Hurricane and surveyed the merciless sands. After taking in the measure of the area, each man felt sorrow as they looked upon the broken forms of the Huntsmen, Heroic Defiance, Headsmen, and Hawk. Yet, in turn, it was good to see the battered, yet still standing forms of Hellfire, Hitman, Haunt of the Desert, and Honor. Collier looked to the supply trucks, seeing the weary and tired forms of the infantrymen perk up when Patton approached. Instead of some harsh, foul language being thrown at them, words of encouragement and praise for courage were instilled in their place.

“Men, today you embodied true American patriots! I am proud to have seen you push back those kraut bastards. Those-sons-of-bitches thought they could get us while we were correcting some fuck ups, you proved them wrong. You obeyed my orders flawlessly.”

His gathered men began to cheer as Patton took a moment to pause. He began again, “Alright, alright, shut up and quiet down! Now, we are going to find that Nazi commander and kill those kraut bastards! It’s our turn to get catch ‘em with their pants down. Now move out!” Patton pointed and a few of the command staff began to share the orders. Lieutenant Collier looked to his men as they scrambled on board Hurricane, like ants crawling into an ant hill. Collier took his place in Hurricane and barked his orders as the tank went on the prowl once more.