REIWA JIGOKUHEN - Chaotic Disturbance of Reiwa Era

Chapter 103 - A Scene in the Middle of the Road

Mohave County, Arizona: near Kingman

The air conditioning installed in tanks is primarily for cooling the onboard electronics. In other words, the crew's comfort comes second, and Sergeant Kushimoto, the commander of a Type 10 tank, learned that the hard way. This is a story that follows them wherever they are deployed, but in the hottest and driest place on Earth, it's natural that the situation becomes even more severe.

Therefore, when the troops trudged through the scorching hell of the Mojave Desert and reached the designated point to set up camp, they felt like they had come back to life. They only had to defend this area for a while and wait for the arrival of the follow-up unit. However, the regular infantry platoon under the command of the 12th Brigade, which had been deployed in advance, had been doing their best almost without any support since they were dropped off by helicopters, and their efforts were probably greater than theirs.

"There is a low possibility of enemy attack, but do not neglect vigilance. That's all, dismissed."

The squad leader's instruction ended, and the tank commanders returned to their respective vehicles.

"Let's start with a toast with cold juice."

Another tank commander and Kushimoto's good friend, Sergeant Shiratori, smiled.

"I'd rather have an ice-cold beer, though."

"We're on a mission, remember?"

Kushimoto lightly nudged Shiratori with his elbow while agreeing with him. However, in reality, there was no possibility of an enemy attack. The US Army, which did not know how they were being detected and attacked by them, had been thoroughly swept along Route 66. After all, there had been no resistance to speak of until they reached this point, and the situation was the same for the 12th Brigade. So, for now, their only enemy was the harsh climate, and they just needed to be vigilant as ordered and take a rest.

'And...'

No matter how well they did, their vision would eventually blur, and there was nothing they could do about it. The moment he started thinking about such things, the intense sunlight flickered for a moment, followed by a high-pitched voice from above.

"Huh, what's that? A bird?"

"That's a bald eagle."

Perhaps because the word "bird" (tori) was in his surname, Shiratori answered immediately. Looking up, it was true that several shadows resembling birds of prey were flying around the bright blue midsummer sky.

"There are more condors, but there are also bald eagles."

"Wow. You're as knowledgeable as ever."

"Well, sort of. Anyway, only birds can be so lively in this heat."

"True," Kushimoto responded casually.

Right now, he was more interested in a cold juice than bird watching. However, he suddenly remembered that the bald eagle was the symbol of the United States, and he felt that it was an extremely cynical black joke. He was sure that the reason why the birds of prey were flying vigorously in the sky was because there was plenty of nutrient-rich prey on the ground that wouldn't even try to escape, and it went without saying what that prey was. Then, a few of the birds, descended, seemingly finding fresh prey. Until then, they had been circling in the sky, perhaps as a form of gratitude to their feeders.

"Ironic," Kushimoto muttered quietly, but no one paid attention to him.

Nevertheless, his perspective might be correct even from a more macroscopic viewpoint. Dozens of divisions that had deployed to the southwestern part of North America to plan a decisive battle were being swallowed up by the harsh natural environment of their homeland that they had tried to defend, losing their supply and command system to the fierce attacks of modern weapons and civil goods converted into weapons.