Chapter 1: A New Arrival, A New Beginning.

27th May, 1944. 1900 hours – Thetford, Norfolk County, England.

Outside, the street was relatively quiet. People in civilian clothing and uniform alike walked up and down the road, some donned with black berets. The area was quite tranquil. The sun shone in the sky, casting long shadows on the passers-by as they went about their business. Once in a while a military truck would roll past, carrying ammunition or military supplies, the noise slowly disappearing into the distance.

At the corner of the street, a door swung open with a loud bang as a group of soldiers, all wearing black berets staggered out, laughing. They quickly stood upright and saluted as they saw an officer walk past them. He gave them a curt nod and returned the salute quickly, before opening the door to the pub and walking in.

Once inside, the thick, hot musty air of tobacco smog and sweat hit him like a hard slap to the face. The quietness of the outside was instantly replaced with loud, indistinguishable raucous of chatter and laughter. The pub was packed. Soldiers of all ranks had all come to this bar to have a drink or two for the evening. A sudden uproar and chanting caused the officer to turn his head. In the corner, a group of men had huddled together as two others downed a large pint of drink, presumably in competition against one another as the rest shouted encouragement to either of them. A curve of a smile formed on his lips, as his watchful gaze swept round the crowded place.

In the other corner of the pub, a young woman sat patiently in her khaki battledress. On its sleeve, three downward facing chevrons denoted her rank. She fiddled with her blonde hair impatiently, her blue eyes searching for familiar faces. The woman was waiting. Waiting for her fellow crewmembers to arrive.

'What is taking them so long?' She thought to herself, taking out a packet of cigarettes from her pocket and placing it on the table as a young waitress walked over with a bottle and glass in her hands.

"Here's your gin, ma'am." She spoke, setting the bottle and glass down on the table. "Is there anything else you need?

The woman's blue eyes flashed upwards to look at the waitress with a gentle smile. "No, that will be quite enough, thank you very much." She stated. Her voice had a warm, elegant tone to it, which clearly emphasised her feelings. As the waitress walked away, she poured herself a small glass of gin, before quickly drinking it in one go. Her eyes once again scanned the room. An officer was at the counter, patiently waiting to be served.

Through the corner of her eye, she could see a group of young men, all donned with black berets, looking at her. She paused for a moment, just as three of the men walked over to her.

"Well, aren't you a beau'iful lady." One spoke sneeringly. "Sure you're in the righ' place?" The woman poured herself another glass, downing it in one go before standing up and confronting the man who had disrespected her.

"I would ask that firstly, you do not insult a non-commissioned officer, corporal." She spoke calmly, yet coldly, almost spitting out the man's rank. "And secondly, you also address me by my rank. Otherwise, I will report you to my commanding officer for insubordination to an NCO. Do we have an understanding?"

The man grinned. "Well, aren't you getting all 'igh and mighty, 'Sergeant'."

She frowned. The man was most likely under the influence of some sort of drink. "I will ask you one more time, corporal." She muttered, her voice suddenly dropping, becoming much more serious. "Take back what you said before, otherwise I will report you for insubordination. Talking back to a non-commissioned officer is not being exemplary of your rank, corporal. Perhaps you are not totally worthy of this rank?"

The soldier stepped forward. "I'd take that back if I were you." He growled. The woman crossed her arms.

"You're not in any position to argue, corporal. This is your last warning." She replied slowly. "Or maybe you are too proud of yourself to keep quiet?"

The man frowned. "What did you sa-"

"What is going on here?"

Turning round, the woman saw an officer standing behind her, only the table separating them. It was the man at the counter earlier. "Are they causing you any particular trouble, Sergeant?" He asked, although his gaze was directly locked at the men, who had now stepped back a couple of paces.

"Yes sir. This one," She pointed at the man who had confronted her. "He commented about my stature as a woman, and when I asked him to withdraw his comment, he refused, even to the point of confronting me. I feel this may be an act of insubordination to a non-commissioned officer."

The man nodded, his deadly gaze still looking at the men. "I see." He spoke coldly, his voice and facial expression void of any readable emotion. He stepped round and confronted the man. "How. Dare you speak to a NCO is such a manner. You deserve to be court martialled and arrested right now for direct insubordination. But since we are so close to the offensive, I shall have to deal with you later, with other methods." He glanced over at the other men. "Get him out of my sight. Immediately."

Watching the men slowly walk away and out of the bar, the woman turned to the officer. "Thank you, sir." She spoke, sighing with relief. "Please, take a seat sir, if you wish."

The man sat down slowly. "With pleasure." Noticing the black beret that was on her head, he flashed a small smile. "I see you are part of the Royal Armoured Corps. What is your name, may I ask?"

The latter smiled. Judging from his tone of voice, and the way he spoke, she could tell he was a southerner, presumably of upper class. "My name, is Sergeant Darjeeling. Attached to the 7th Armoured Division, 5th Royal Tank Regiment, and I was posted to A Squadron, 1st platoon."

The man raised a brow. "I see." He replied. "Well, jolly nice to meet you, Sergeant. I am Lieutenant James Moore. I am your platoon leader." He flashed another small smile, before extending his hand, in which Darjeeling warmly shook. "Excuse me if I seem negligent, but it seems I haven't seen you here before?"

Darjeeling nodded. "I only arrived here this afternoon, sir. I had finished my NCO training just under a month ago, but they took a long time getting the paperwork done." She spoke clearly, whilst pouring another glass of gin.

"Ah. That may explain that discrepancy." Said James, taking out a cigarette. "So you're yet to go through your baptism of fire."

"Yes, I am." Darjeeling responded. "But, may I ask another question, sir?"

"Go ahead."

"Is it uncommon for women to join the Royal Armoured Corps?" She asked. "Judging by the behaviour of… that group of men."

James thought for a moment, taking a long drag of his cigarette before answering. "It isn't considered rare these days, but the numbers are still few. Take for example my platoon. I know two other crewmembers who are women there."

Upon hearing his words, Darjeeling's eyes lit up slightly. "What are their names, may I ask?"

James' face brightened up slightly at her tone of voice. "Ah, you may well know them. They've talked to me some time ago about you joining up. They are Corporal Assam and Lance Corporal Pekoe. Do their names ring any sort of bell?"

Darjeeling nodded quickly. "Yes sir. They're my lifelong friends." She smiled in delight upon hearing their names.

"Well," James stated. "You do know I have placed them under your command? You shall also be commanding the Sherman Firefly in our platoon." He asked. "Because from the looks of it, I assume you all work jolly well together, and I feel you and your crew are worthy of this responsibility." Darjeeling blinked in surprise.

"No, I didn't know." She smiled. "That is very welcoming news to me, thank you sir!"

James got up slowly. "Well, I shall leave you with that thought. I have to deal with that man who offended you. Until then." He shook Darjeeling's hand, before walking out of the bar, just as another group of people entered a few moments later.

Darjeeling smiled, her hand taking out a cigarette from its packet, when she felt two figures standing behind her.

"Well, look who's finally arrived." A female voice sounded from behind her. Her voice was rather soft, rather matching of someone who had a quiet yet gentle character. Darjeeling beamed, standing up to face the two women who were stood behind her.

"Well, you do not look a day older, Lance Corporal Pekoe." She spoke happily, before grabbing her into a tight hug, and doing the same to the other.

"Lieutenant Moore said that you were here, so Assam and I decided to look for you." Said Orange Pekoe. She was a modestly tall woman, just a little shorter than Darjeeling herself. Her light ginger hair was tied up in two braids, which was common for her to do so.

"Really? Well I sure am surprised that you were able to find me in this… place." Darjeeling replied quickly, finishing her glass of gin before smiling once more. "So, ladies. What did I miss over the last few years?" She asked, gesturing them to follow her.

"To be honest, we spent our entire time fighting in Africa against the Afrika Korps, before briefly fighting in Sicily." Assam stated as they exited the pub. "You missed a lot." She grinned, seeing the look on Darjeeling's face. She was a beautiful woman, with long, straight blond hair which usually extended down to the middle of her back, but army regulations made it that it could only be shoulder length. Like most tank crewmen, she wore the khaki battledress, with two downward pointing chevrons on each sleeve that denoted her rank; a discrepancy Darjeeling noticed.

"Congratulations, Assam. Seems like you've finally become a corporal."

"Why, thank you Sergeant. I worked hard to achieve it." Assam responded happily as the trio walked down the road towards Thetford Forest. A few meters out, they spotted an officer wearing a peaked cap coming their way. Immediately, all three turned their heads to face the officer and saluted. He quickly returned the salute.

"I'm sure you did." Darjeeling spoke as the officer soon walked past them. "You deserved it." They walked on for a while, as the orange sun began setting below the horizon, gently coaxing the night to come. Silence fell upon them momentarily, before Orange Pekoe spoke.

"What's your first impression of Lieutenant Moore?" She suddenly asked.

Darjeeling thought for a moment. "I think he's a nice person. But, since I've only met him today, I cannot be sure. Only time will tell, I guess." She smirked. "Well. He did 'save' me from a couple of drunk lads who tried to get the better of me."

"Oh, you've got to tell me about that." Assam spoke excitedly.

"I shall, at a later date." The latter spoke, changing the subject before she could question her any further. "So, are we all ready for the operation that is about to happen?" In her heart, Darjeeling knew very little about the operation that was supposed to take place. All she knew was that it could change the tide of war on the western front. She didn't know what to expect. After all, she'd never seen any action, unlike her peers.

"We've been readying up all our equipment." Orange spoke gently. "From what I know, it's a big operation. Like, massive." Darjeeling raised a brow.

"Has it got a codename?"

"Operation Overlord, apparently."

I am back with a new Panzer Diary! I decided that Britain would be the next country to feature, so, sorry for those who thought differently. I hope I could shift your mind with this new Panzer Diary.

For those who don't know, this is the sequel to "The Panzer Diaries: Germany". Each Panzer Diary will revolve around a country, and include a major offensive or tank battle they have fought in.

If you've read the first Panzer Diary, or have started with this current Panzer Diary, I hope you enjoy this one as well.

As always, any reviews with constructive criticism would be welcome.

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