Dedicated to JT. 

There was once a tank. 
She was a strong tank. 
She was a good tank. 
She was a tank built with the greatest engineering her country could devise. 
She was of a proud lineage.
She had carried her crew safely through battles and across the plains. 
Then the war ended and the peace time works began. 
Old weapons were to be scrapped and remade into the tools of peace time.
But the crew members that had survived did not wish to see their steel friend end up as scrap. 
So they banded together one last time. Together they petitioned for their tank to be saved. 
It was long and grueling process. 
Some of the old crew joked that pushing through artillery barrages would've been easier.
The tank however did not know her old crew was moving to preserve her and simply sat in the boneyard. 
Patiently waiting for torch.


Then one clear spring day the tank's old crew came to the boneyard. 
She was overjoyed to see them, for what she though was the last time, however her old crew was not alone..
With them was their wives, sons and daughters.
The children looked at the old tank with awe and wonder.
The old crew told stories of their adventure and scares throughout the war
The tank listened on. 
If she could smile she would have.
If she could cry happy tears she would have.
Then came the men in coveralls bearing tools and crates.
The old tank thought this was the end. 
She was happy she got to spend time with her old crew and their families.
But the men with tools smiled and shook hands with her old crew. 
And then they began to gather tools and repair plates then they all started to repair the old tank. 
It was long and hard job, but it was a worthy cause. 
Two days later the old tank proudly rolled into her new home. 
The Field Museum of History.
Here the old tank would not simply sit and be looked upon. 
No, here she would be demonstrated and driven to show the visitors just what she could do. 
And once a year on the armistice. 
She would be given three live shells. 
One fired to mark the start of the war. 
One fired to honor the fallen. 
One fired to mark the end of the war. 
And so the tank stayed at her new home.
Well cared for and driven about in demonstrations for years to come.
Here she would stay and be at peace. 

Or until her people faced a new threat and needed her once more. 
Then a worthy crew would come to her and she would carry them safely through battle once more.