//------------------------------// // Cultural Exchanges // Story: Team Yankee // by Eagle //------------------------------// “Thank God they made it,” was all Bannon could say at the moment. “We’ve finally got help.” With a portal open, the rest of Team Yankee’s battalion could finally get through, and with that supplies. What was even better for Bannon was that he finally had a way home; he wasn’t able to go there yet, but still it was there. With the rest of Equestria safe for the time being, Team Yankee was allowed to go and meet up with the rest of the battalion. The battalion was composed of three other companies; Team Bravo, another armor-heavy company, and companies C and D, which were made up of infantry. Personally, Bannon felt they would be better off without Company C, as their commander, and by extension the troops, were incompetent, disrespectful, and overall inefficient. Unfortunately, Colonel had to bring along his little pet of a company commander, the one Bannon was presently sitting next to in the small tent that would be used for the briefing. Bannon was actually more scared than anything else; Colonel Sawyer already let him know he was not going to take this lightly. The old man had a real General Patton mood on all day every day, minus Patton’s tactical genius. He was just thankful the Princesses were both here to speak on his behalf. “Hey, Bannon,” the staff S-3, Major Jordan, nudged, “the old man’s here.” Looking outside, Bannon saw a command jeep driving down the road. The four antennas attached to it flung about wildly, never being tied down. The most identifiable marking was a large black ‘6’ superimposed on the blue license plate, thoroughly violating every security measure the Army had. The jeep came to a halt in front of the tent, an older Lieutenant Colonel stepping out. Walking into the tent, all of the men stood to salute him. The colonel returned the salute and the men returned to their seats as he took his own at the end of the table. “Captain Bannon,” he began. “Where the hell have you been and what the hell have you been doing?” “We’ve been stuck here when the war back home broke out and we’ve been fighting ever since.” “Just what in that thick skull of yours made you think that was a good idea?” Bannon lost it at that. He hadn’t planned on this to happen; he didn’t even think it was possible. What made this guy think he even wanted to be here when his family back home was in danger? “What do you mean? You think I planned this? Like I had some secret to escape to a land of pretty ponies and drag my whole company with me while everyone back home died?” Bannon asked, standing up angrily. “That’s just damned stupid!” “Calm down, captain! Otherwise the only thing waiting at home for you will be a court-martialing!” Bannon sat back down and relaxed. He kept telling himself that he couldn’t have outbursts like this. There was always something no one could control that happened to him; not enough of this, too much of that, this guy’s got a disease, this guy got his foot blown off, the men on the flanks are retreating, the rear HQ is getting shelled. And, of course, you and your men are transported to an entirely different dimension. It really got to him when stuff that people can control happened, especially when it happened because of mindless idiocy like Garger’s at first. This just felt insulting. “Captain, I understand you had no intention for this to happen,” Reynolds explained. “What I meant was why did you think it was a good idea to intervene in this war?” “Well, it looked like they were in some serious trouble, sir. I did think it would be within our ideals to help protect them from a dictator.” Reynolds rubbed his head. “Even if it is, captain, we’re already in a war. Do you know how bad things are in Germany? NORTHAG is getting crushed and the Russians are nearly at the Dutch border. We need everyone and everything there, and we can’t afford to piss off another country that we have to fight. Our hands are just too full.” “I understand, sir, but we kicked them out of this country rather easily, and their leader is coming to meet with us today to talk about peace.” “We think that’s what he’ll want to do, Bannon,” Reynolds replied. “He might just be coming to declare war on us.” “If I may, Colonel,” Celestia interrupted. “I do believe my nation owes your Captain here a debt for rescuing us. Even if you have made new enemies, you have also made some allies.” Reynolds raised his eyebrows. “Would you kindly not talk in riddles, ma’am.” “Since your Captain aided us with our war, I am willing to offer my assistance to yours.” Bannon was surprised at this; he didn’t think they would be so willing to help. Even if their magic was useless against vehicles, it could still help in other ways; and he was pretty sure the Russians didn’t have flying horses. Maybe there was something important hidden in there. “We’ll see about that when things are cleaned up here,” Reynolds replied. “Now when’s this guys supposed to show up?” “Now, actually, he’s flying down right now.” “Flying, what’s-” He was interrupted as a large dark brown pegasus strode angrily into the tent. “Oh right, wings,” Reynolds sighed. “So are you Leon-” The Pegasus walked right by him and up to Bannon, getting into his face. “You! You are the one responsible for this!” he snarled. “How dare you intervene in my liberation of this country!” Bannon didn’t take lightly to this, standing up and making the most of his superior height. “First of all, can the ‘liberation’ crap,” he shot back. “I’ve heard that line back on my world a million times by people like you, so you can drop the ‘man-of-the-peasants’ gig, you power-hungry maniac.” The pegasus’ face grew bright red in anger, searching for a response. “It doesn’t matter, you and your men will pay the full price in your vain attempt at rescuing this monarch!” he growled. “Are you threating the guys that just kicked you out?” Bannon asked. “You really are delusional, huh?” “I will have my vengeance on you, and when this world is united, yours is next!” All of the humans seemed stunned by this response. “Is that a declaration of war?” Reynolds asked. “I don’t take threats against my men and country lightly.” “I will have my revenge on you, all of you!” he said. “And you, and your ‘Yankees’ will be first!” The pegasus walked back out and took off into the skies, flanked by some guards. “Peace, huh Bannon?” Reynolds asked. “Well, I suppose we’d better get out of this hole you’ve dug us all into.” This had been the first time the team had actually been able to stop and interact with the town and its residents. Many were still a little too afraid to come out and interact directly, even if these humans had just rescued their town. The men didn’t mind, though; they were going to relish their break as much as they could. Most of them did one activity or another to pass the time. Avery and Garger spent a good deal of time sitting on the back of the 41 tank, eating and catching up for the first time in a long time. Pinkie had been the most welcoming at first, with the men willing to buy food from the bakery to get a break from the rations they always ate; there was some problems with the currency at first before she decided to just give them away as a thank you present. Blackfoot fashioned a makeshift pillow out of his rucksack and took a nap on a bench next to his track. The thing that struck the ponies most of all were the activities themselves; many were talking like normal ponies would, but it was what they were talking about that was different. Their world apparently had far more issues than Equestria. “And Reagan just looks straight into the camera and says ‘We begin bombing in five minutes’,” McAlister said, gaining some hearty laughs from his crew, as well as Weiss’. “I can’t believe you’ve never heard that, Weiss; he said that back in ’84!” Apparently, Rainbow thought this would be a good time to start a conversation. “Who’s Reagan?” “He’s our president,” McAlister replied, “the leader of our country.” “What was he talking about?” “He was making a joke about passing a law to outlaw the Russians.” Rainbow tilted her head sideways with a confused look. “Uh…how was he planning on doing that?” “By bombing them,” McAlister replied with a chuckle. “What?” Rainbow asked, surprised. “And you guys are wondering why you’re at war with them; you’re leader is nuts.” “Wondering, no; we’ve been at each other’s throats for decades,” Weiss explained, stunning Rainbow even more. “Be honest, we’re all tired of living in fear of it. It was bound to happen at some point, and now it has; might as well have a laugh or two over it.” “Unlike with IC,” McAlister’s driver added. “Man, he messed up with that.” “IC?” Rainbow asked. “Iran-Contra,” McAlister said, turning back to his driver. “All the same, his defense spending is part of the reason we aren’t driving Pattons anymore.” “He gets a lot more crap than I think he should,” the loader added. “They keep complaining about his physical fitness; why does it matter?” As that conversation deteriorated, Rainbow diverted her attention to Weiss and his crew. “Damn it, you spoiled the ending!” “Yea, and when Marty gets home his family is actually pretty good,” Weiss said. “Like his father is an author and his mom is really hot and everything.” “Aw, c’mon, LT,” the driver moaned. “I haven’t seen it yet; you can’t stop talking about it for just a minute?” “No,” Weiss chuckled. “So they made a time machine out of a DMC-12?” the loader asked. “Yea, something about the specific design allowing it to travel through the…something.” After listening to that, Rainbow decided it wouldn’t make much sense, either. One of the other sources of attention was a makeshift football game between some of the tankers and the Mech platoon. The crowd of ponies sat next to the humans on the sidelines, watching the game with them and getting startled whenever the men started cheering. They did have a similar game in Equestria with a similar ball, but since they had hooves instead of fingers, some of the rules and moves were radically different. Another, smaller spot of attention was a throwing match between Hebrock of 24 tank and Rhoads from 22. They gained a small crowd by tossing another football between each other, the catch being that they had to stay on each other’s tanks. Finally, Rhoads threw a higher pass and Hebrock reached out to catch it. He accomplished this, but also fell off the back of the tank and into the grass which blessedly enough was rather soft. He groaned and got back up, stretching out a bit to make sure he was ok. Of all the ponies in town, Lyra was the most sociable with the troops. For some strange reasons, she felt a strange attachment to them; even to the point of stopping and talking with each tank crew. They were, in turn, happy to see someone from the town willing to be so sociable with what were basically aliens. The last track she wanted to visit was Uleski’s 55 tank, which was parked a ways away from it. Trotting over towards it, she noticed that the four crewmen seemed to be working on their vehicle. Coming closer, she also heard a strange sound emanating from its direction. “Ok, Newman, hand me the spare antenna!” gunner Gwent called to 55’s loader over the song, who handed him the tank’s spare radio antenna to replace the shredded one. “Gwent, how’s the antenna replacement coming?” Uleski asked. “Nearly done, sir!” “Good,” Uleski replied, turning to driver Lorriet, who was on the ground inspecting the wheels, track, and sprockets. “Lorriet, how’s everything looking down there?” The driver gave a thumb up as he continued looking closely for any loose or damaged parts. “Hey!” Uleski turned around from his position on the front near the barrel to see the pony walking up to his vehicle. He motioned for Gwent to kill the portable stereo resting on the back of the tank next to him as he jumped down. He always loved to see the faces of people who saw that and asked ‘how the hell did you get that?’ But, be it this or that can of coke; he’d mastered the art of acquiring items others couldn’t. “Nice to meet you,” he said. “1st Lieutenant Uleski, at your service miss…” “Lyra, and…what was the sound coming out of that? Was that music?” “Hm? Oh, yea; the boom box. Yep, that’s our music.” “How does that thing make music? I’ve never seen anything make music like that?” “So you’re a musician, huh?” Uleski asked. “Well it doesn’t really ‘make’ the music; it just plays it from a recorded cassette.” He jumped back onto the tank before she could ask anything else. “You want to hear some more?” he asked from the cupola. “Yea, it sounds great!” “Ok, let me take a look at my little collection,” he said, going into the tank and popping back out with another cassette tape. “Perfect! Hey Gwent, stick this in and hand Boston back to me.” “Ah, good choice, sir!” he said, putting the tape into the machine and turning up the volume. “Not too bad, huh?” Uleski asked to Lyra, who had been dancing in her own world through most of the song. “Huh? O-oh yea, it was pretty good,” she said, blushing a bit from her act. “Hey, don’t feel embarrassed; good music does that to its listeners. You didn’t hear me singing along badly to it?” “I couldn’t hear, honestly.” “Well trust me, you didn’t want to,” he chuckled. “I’d hate to make you sick of our music because of my voice.” Lyra laughed surprisingly hard at this. “You want to listen to some more?” “Yea!” “Alright, let’s see if I can find something a little different. Hm…ah, here we go; this’ll be fun!” he said, handing Gwent yet another tape. Bannon spent most of the remaining time talking over supplies with the rest of the staff. The biggest shortage was actually the radio antennas of the tanks; the HE rounds that did explode on their sides tended to shred them and he had to actually get up in his cupola and yell to the others which way to go. Though the spares on each track were being used to replace them, they had no reserves of these left. Unfortunately, there was only enough left in the battalion’s supply to augment half the team. Most of the personal care issues were being fixed, despite the battalion being unable to do it. The town had been very willing to help with what they could. The men of the team treated themselves to a nice bath in the Spa, the owners of which also offered to help clean the laundry. Even if it did get crowded, the troops weren’t looking for an all-around treatment, just enough to make them smell human again. Not to mention the tips they left were rather generous, or would be once the currency issue was straightened out. Many of the ponies offered to let the troops sleep in their homes on whatever bed was available, right down to the couches; this was probably the biggest blessing to the tired men. Most of the food they ate at the time was also cooked by Ponyville’s residents, giving them a break from the cold and rubbery food they usually acquired. Thankfully, fuel, ammo, and the most serious requirements were being met well. Spare parts and fresh shells were being loaded onto the tanks and any armored plates that were too damaged were being replaced by the mechanics. The last and most important issue was on the replacements for those lost. That, too, was being solved, in both men and material. And the deceased, of course, were returned to the States. That left Bannon where he was now, sitting in the library late at night, trying to think of what to write to the families of the deceased. It certainly was not the best part of the job as the dozens of ideas flew through his head became more and more angry. “Your son passed away while bravely defending innocent…ponies?” “No,” Bannon said to himself. “It’s got to sound more serious.” But just how serious was this whole thing, anyways? “Your son passed away defending a bunch of alien horses that no one knew about in a war no one cared about. Unfortunately, those efforts were not enough as we are still currently at war with them; thanks for your cooperation.” “Damn all,” Bannon sighed. “How the hell do I explain this? These people lost friends, sons, husbands; all for what?” His soul-searching was interrupted by Twilight. “Captain, do you mind if I ask a few questions about your world now?” “I’m busy,” he replied sharply. “Why not? I’ve been waiting patiently for you to finish working; you can’t stop writing a letter for five minutes?” “No, it’s too important.” “Well, maybe I can help write it,” she suggested. “I’ve written dozens to Princess Celestia-” “You know how to tell this mother that her son was killed fighting your war?” Twilight stared at this. “Oh, I’m…I’m really sorry; I-I didn’t know it was that kind of letter.” “It’s alright,” Bannon replied, still starring at the blank sheet on the desk. “It’s just…hard is all; I just don’t know what to say.” “Well, I’ll let you…take care of that. Maybe…uh. Actually, I’ll just go to bed; I’m sorry for interrupting you, Captain.” “It’s ok, you didn’t know; sleep well.” “Oh, and captain; could you thank his family for what he did?” she asked. Bannon wasn’t really expecting this, but understood. “Of course, you sleep well.” As she trotted upstairs, her request finally gave Bannon an idea of what to say. ‘Your son for many reasons, even if he didn’t know it; he died protecting a world from aggression, he died fighting for his friends next to him, and he died doing what he believed was the right thing to do. I am proud to have had him as a soldier in my company. The innocents he was defending, as well as myself, wish to thank you and him for your service during these difficult times. And please remember that no matter what happens, no matter how long this war lasts or it's outcome, we will always remember his sacrifice. Please take care. Sincerely- Captain Sean Bannon, Company Y commander.’