The Veteran Tanker laughed madly as he heard the terrified screeches of the Bugs as they either ran for their lives or were crushed underneath.
He had been in command of this StuG IV for at least two years since he had been assigned to it's crew. From what he could remember, the IAF had 'acquired' it from a museum long ago during a previous deployment. Whoever decided to take it back with them must have done so thinking what a shame it was that it was simply sitting there gathering dust when it was fully operational.
And the Veteran Tanker was glad for it, for he had the honor of commanding one of the handful of actual Tanks that the IAF had at it's disposal. Most other armored vehicles that the IAF had to make do with were little more than civilian trucks with metal plates welded to them and mounted with light AT guns.
The front of the tank-destroyer vibrated slightly now and again, as if someone were throwing large rocks at them, the Tank Commander scowled, and, squinting his eyes up against the thin view slit, strained to see a large mass of black shapes against the bright world of the desert outside.
Green bolts of light impacted the front, but left little more than dark scars.
The Tank Commander hollered at the top of his lungs, calling for his crew to ready another High Explosive round.
'Three hundred meters, closing to two!', called the Gunner as the Loader slammed the large Explosive shell into the receiver, and the Commander smiled viciously.
'Wait!' He called, as the battered, old StuG rumbled just a bit closer to the Bugs' firing line. He could almost see the enemy beginning to waver, witnessing their magic bolts do nothing but scar the metal beast.
The Commander screamed wordlessly, though the meaning was obvious as only seconds after, the Explosive shell rocketed towards the enemy line screaming like some hellbound Wraith.
The Crew cheered as limbs flew and organs were spilled, and the line of dozens upon dozens of Changelings were reduced to mangled corpses.
The Commander rifled through a small pile of papers as the Tank's aged radio blasted calls for support alongside enemy troop numbers.
He scrunched his eyes as sucked on his teeth in impatience as he marked several spots, before shouting orders.
'And to think,' The Commander thought ruefully, 'There are more Bugs on the way!'