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// Infantry Attacks 
// Story: Panzerlost: Rommel in Equestria 
// by The Party Pony 
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Celestia's soldiers were pretty damn talented. Rommel enjoyed watching them practice in the passes of the Alicorn Mountains, biding the time until Sombra would strike again. He had adjusted to this new world surprisingly quickly. To the horses (or ponies, as they called themselves) he was a very strange creature, but apparently strange creatures weren't a rarity in this world of magic and wizardry. Word soon spread through the whole kingdom (which was rapidly shrinking with Sombra on the advance), and the ponies didn't even seem uncomfortable in his presence anymore.

Presently he was standing on a small plateau where the warriors would practice their fighting. Swordmen- swordsponies? -would spar with one another, Pegasi would swoop and soar through the sky, and massive armored chariots would rumble through fake enemies made of straw.

"They’re very skilled," he said appreciatively, lowering his field glasses. "They are as well-trained as my own warriors in my own world."

"Fierce battle makes veterans out of even the greenest of recruits." Jet Set, the Royal Marshal, gave Rommel a contemptuous stare. He certainly didn't like this outlander tagging along with him, even if his Princess ordered it.

"The pegasi weaken the enemy line, the chariots tear a hole in it, then the infantry goes through?" asked Rommel politely. Panzers opened the way for infantry in his world. He figured chariots would do the job here.

But Jet Set just snorted in condescension. "I don't know what kind of mocked-up tactics they use in your world, Rommel. Here, chariots hold the line and Pegasi stay on the flanks, to harry the enemy. Infantry is in the rear to try and protect if things go wrong."

"Haven't you ever heard of the schwerpunkt?!" exclaimed Rommel, his eyes widening. The answer was 'no', of course, but he had asked the question in sheer reflex. Their tactics were just so utterly awful, he couldn't help but be horrified. In his own world the French had scattered their panzers all along the line. They'd paid for it, too, when German armored divisions punched through them. Rommel thought the same thing should work here. Why wouldn't it?

He removed a sheet of paper from his breast pocket, and began to jot down a vague battle plan with his fountain pen. Jet Set saw what he was doing and shook his head. "This is how we've always fought, we're not about to change it all now."

The Desert Fox could feel his infamous temper starting to rise. "Don't you want to win? Don't you want to beat back the Crystal Warriors??"

"We're not changing the way we fight just because some new-comer that the Princess favors thinks he knows better than a thousand years of military strategy!"

Rommel could feel the bile rising in the back of his throat. If there was one thing that angered him the most, it was self-important know-it-alls that refused to accept new ideas. It was like the Prussian nobility of the Great War all over again. "We'll see what the Princess thinks!" he declared. His clout with Celestia could get him a thing or two.

"If Her Majesty wishes to waste her time, that's her business." Jet Set sneered.

"She'll listen!" exclaimed Rommel, waving his baton in emphasis, "Why the devil not?! You're not winning with what you've got, because last time I checked, your enemies are at the gates of your capital!"

Jet Set didn't answer him. Rommel chose to believe that was because he couldn't answer him. The Marshal stalked off, leaving Rommel's battle plans like untranslated hieroglyphics. So much for that.

What would the charioteers think of being used as a breakthrough group? Only one way to find out, he thought, and walked over toward them. Their leader was a captain named Fancypants. The name was absurd, of course, but Rommel had heard so many absurd names that he didn't even question it anymore. Seeing Rommel standing at the edge of the field, Fancypants guided his chariot towards him. "Hail and well met!" exclaimed the captain. He wore a golden helmet with a roman-like crest. He removed it as he bowed to Rommel in greeting.

Rommel clicked his heels and returned the gesture. "Your men are strong and indomitable, and your chariots... they're a fine work of engineering, I must say." The Chariot was practically as armored as a tank. It was a bit ironic having a horse ride in a vehicle drawn by other horses, but the system worked surprisingly well. Rommel cast his line. "Want to be even stronger?"

Fancypants's eyes became suddenly sharp. "How?"

"I'll show you." beamed Rommel.

Fancypants leapt down from his chariot and stood next to the German. He smelled like sweat and leather and iron and horse, the scent momentarily drawing Rommel back to the First Great War. Shaking off the memories, he proceeded to explain his plan to charioteer. He drew a column and aimed it at a line. "You see, you charge and-" he stopped, waiting to see if Fancypants would get it.

And he did. His eyes lit up. "We charge, and we smash right through, and we tear out the blasted guts of whatever poor soul should get in our way!" He gestured excitedly. "Flash Sentry! Get over here! You've got to take a look at this!"

Another charioteer leapt from his mount. Fancypants explained the idea as well as Rommel could have himself- probably better because Fancypants was an actual working chariot officer. "What do you think, Flash?" he finished with a grin.

"Stinking Crystal soldiers won't be looking for it - that's for sure!" exclaimed Flash Sentry, "it'll give us a fighting chance just from surprise."

"What did Marshal Jet Set say? You were talking about it with him weren't you?" Fancypants was quick on the uptake.

"I'm afraid he doesn't like it." admitted Rommel quietly. "He thinks the old way is good enough."

"Old way is good enough? Ha! He'd be saying that while Canterlot burns!" exclaimed Fancypants vehemently. "That pony wouldn't know a good idea if it slapped him in the face!"

"I considered doing just that." replied Rommel with a wry smile. It seemed that even in another world, soldiers till had adamant opinions about their superiors.

"Don't worry, you can talk to Celestia." said Fancypants lightly. "She'll listen to you. By Tartarus, Flash and I will talk with her too. She's game for new things, so I think she'd go for this column fighting. Jet Set isn't a god, the three of us can cancel him out!"

Rommel smiled. "I'm ready to go whenever you are."







The Desert Fox gestured around the map with his baton to show Princess Celestia what he had in mind. He didn't do much talking. He didn't have to; Fancypants and Flash Sentry did it for him. They were exceedingly enthusiastic about his idea, filled with the convert's zeal.

Jet Set listened to the charioteers bragging about what they'd do if the Princess turned them loose to fight the way the wanted to. The Marshal didn't look like a happy man - er, pony.

"You can do this?" asked Celestia when the officers finished their excited exposition.

"Yes your majesty!" Flash Sentry and Fancypants chorused. "Once our chariots break through the enemy line, it's like breaking a turtle's shell! What's inside is meat- our meat."

"Hmmmmm." Celestia looked thoughtful. If she had a beard and a hand she probably would have stroked her chin. "What about you, Jet Set? You haven't had much to say."

"Everything sounds wonderful when you’re sitting in a comfortable throne room." replied the Marshal with a sneer. "How it'll work when we really try it out... that's liable to be a different story, and not such a pretty one."

"Nothing is perfect, your majesty!" exclaimed Rommel, his temper rising again at the Marshal's crack, "but how good is what you're doing now? Last time I checked, your enemies are knocking on your front door. Maybe it's time to try something new, something different."

"A good answer." replied Celestia with a smile.

"No, not so good!" cried Jet Set. "This... this outlander will risk our men, and our supplies, and our last slender hopes of victory. But where will he be? Someplace safe, that's where. While our soldiers die in the snow, he'll be reading a book by a warm fire!"

"I am too old to be a warrior," Rommel said. The Marshal sneered. Rommel held up a hand. "I'm not done yet. I am too old to be a warrior, but I'll ride at the front when the column charges." He bowed and clicked his heals towards the marshal. "I will ride there. Will you ride beside me? Or will you hang back like a coward?"

Fancypants sucked in a breath. Flash Sentry chuckled and then politely tried to pretend he hadn't. Rommel had just issued a brazen challenge, and Jet Set cared far too much about his reputation to act like a coward in front of his sovereign. "If the Princess orders this foolish scheme to go forward, you will not see me hanging back." he growled. "No miserable outlander will ever say he dares to go where I dare not to come with him."

"Good!" Rommel beamed. He ignored the insult, accepting the statement for the victory that it was. "We will ride out together, and together we shall crush the Crystal Warriors. Nothing else matters. You do not have to like me, Marshal, you only have to wish for victory. That is all I want."

Jet Set growled again. "You want to make a big name for yourself, show everyone how smart you are, eh? Just be careful you don't outsmart yourself."

The German only shrugged. "What can I do? Where can I go? I am trapped here until I die, or until I give victory to this kingdom. Make no mistake, I will do my very best to bring victory to Princess Celestia."

"Then it's decided!" exclaimed Celestia with grin. It was fierce and decisive, and seemed odd on such soft, gentle features.

"Yes, your majesty." muttered Jet Set. By the way he agreed, he would rather go on the rack than do anything Rommel suggested.

But if Celestia saw anything wrong with the way her marshal agreed, she didn't let on. She stomped her hoof on the cold tile floor of the palace. "Then we will prepare a counter-attack at once!" she declared. The Fuhrer could not have been more decisive.