Despite the fence battle that had been going on, the town looked almost unaffected. A few building hand collapsed with more still burning. But, most importantly, the bridge was still up and didn’t belong to either side. On the bridge dozens of T-34s, panzer IIIs and jagdpanzers cluttered the road, their flags fluttering slightly in the breeze. On the town side the road was empty, save for a few piles of rubble. Darjeeling had collected her knocked out tanks and were now being repared. The majority of injured and knocked out crews were crammed into a large four story town house.
Darjeeling was doing rounds, checking on the injured when a girl with a bandaged shoulder came up to her.
“Assam wants to see you ma’am, she says it’s urgent.” She said.
“Alright thank you.”
The girl stepped aside to let the St. Gloriana commander past who then made her way up the crowed staircase.
“Alright chamomile?” she asked to a girl with a bandaged head