The 'Tank Poetry Contest' winners

Vallter: After a heated debate, we finally came to our decision. Allow me to assure you that this has been one of the hardest contests to judge. A lot of interesting and excellent works were submitted and more often than not, it was very difficult to choose between them.
We assembled a group of ten judges, who all carefully read the submitted works and gave them a score out of ten-point system.
We read many pieces that were very good, but unfortunately did not fulfil the main requirement: you had to write about your best battle. Nevertheless, we still awarded some of them as they were of such a high standard.
In some poems, the lyrics were connected with some beautiful melodies but we were unable to give any additional points to these poets. But stay tuned! As we will soon run a “Tank-Mix” contest and you will soon be able to participate.
The team at Wargaming.net would like to take this opportunity to thank all the participants! We really enjoyed reading the poems, but it is now time to get to the part you have all been waiting for and announce the winners!
The winner is Jedi Tanks with his poem dedicated to his Leopard!

My “Leopard” is ready. It is ready for battle.
The ammo is loaded. The crew has been settled.
Battle of Ensk. Excited. I feel my heart beat.
My God! My tank is the smallest one on the field.
What should I do? Should I stay? Should I hide?
Run like a coward and hope to not die?
No! I’m going to charge! I’m gonna die proud!
“Hey guys, I’ll scout, I’ll find the enemy crowd!”
Three, two, one...Let’s take this show on the road!
Yeah, let’s play this game on “dangerous” mode!
And I charge. I run like I’m crazy.
While the heavies starting to turn kind of lazy.
To enemy lines! To Glory! To die!
“Hurrah! Hey team, guns on me! I’m saying good bye!”
I’m running alone... Only ruins and trees...
I ran into enemy heavies and couple TDs.
Sharp turn to the left, hide behind this wall.
To fight, to not die, to live is my goal.
The enemy tanks, they are gods of this war.
They fire at me! They crumble my wall...
Swift on his tracks, friendly “Sherman” appear.
More friendlies behind! They bringing his rear.
No time to lose. I put pedal to metal.
Leaving behind the heat of the battle.
The enemy leading... They lost only two...
My team in retreat, we lost half the crew...
“Hey Arty, wake up! Eyes on the scout!
I’ll find you a target! You can take them, no doubt!”
I spotted a ”Tiger”. He is turning his turret.
Artillery shells are hitting my target.
He is smoking! He is gone! Yes, this is it!
I’ve suddenly stopped. My tracks have been hit!
I quickly repair. From where did this came?
TD in the bush is training his aim.
I aim at him, take a shot... Ricochet!
His armour is weak, no match for my shell!
I’m faster than him, I circle around.
In several shots I have taken him down!
There’re three of us now – me, heavy and arty.
And five of the enemy in charge of this party.
Two enemies down, friendly heavy is gone...
Killing the enemy tank my arty was done.
T-32, “Tigers”, IS
They nothing, but dead. Their bodies are mess.
Their tier more than 7, my tier less than 5...
The Gods are all dead! I’m still alive!
Two enemy arties and me... HA-HA-HA!
To Victory, Glory! I’m charging! Hurrah!
2nd prize goes to HorridTanker and his poem, “Tale of Campinovka”

The battle is all ones and twos
Surely this time he can’t lose
A tiny tank that’s truly mighty
And maybe only OP slightly
Thirty seconds and battle starts
The teams split up in two small parts
Many camping in their base
The others toward the windmill race
The mighty Hotchkiss loads in late
And quickly decides to just go straight
Across the open no mans land
Straight into the enemy’s open hands
Halfway across spied on the right
Two enemy scouts ride into sight
Quick shots the Hotchkiss does deal
And where once scouts were is now hot steel
Pushing further into the middle
The Hotchkiss spies three tanks so little
Hiding in the enemy base
Six shots fell two and one displaced
Oh no! Tracked in the middle is he
And hurt the driver surely must be
A quick repair kit and medical pack
So quickly was repaired the track!
Right out front their base he parks
No more enemy shots find their mark
Their Panzer 2’s flak guns open up
But fire is returned and “We lit that one up!”
Into their base he slowly pushes
They cower in fear hiding in bushes
Capping slowly all alone
But fearing not his armor like stone
The counter reaches 90 percent
The enemy fires and makes no dent
Rounds pierce his armor like its woolen
But alas the kill quickly is stolen
The battle ends Hotchkiss victorious
Nine kills he had this battle glorious
This round so great is first of day!
Double exp of three grand today!
3rd place winner is Pekiti with his view on Clan Wars!

The Clan Lord has called me to fight by his side,
So loaded with ammo, in armor I ride.
On the cliffs of El Halluf, our plans are well laid,
Behind rocks and the dunes our camp is well made.
Now patiently waiting in the gray light of dawn,
TDs are crouching, with binoculars on.
In chat eager voices, while stories are told,
Of valor and vengeance and glories of old.
Our leader has ordered, the team is arrayed,
A place in the vanguard the honor I'm paid.
The scouts now surge forward, with dust at their heels,
Our courage this day must be strong as our steel.
A target is spotted and marked on the map,
Our artillery fires and turns him to scrap.
Enemy tanks battered, then shattered and slain,
Their armor is sundered by cruel iron rain.
My tank thunders forward to fierce battle cry,
Incoming shells pass by me, gray streaks from the sky.
Bright tracers are glancing from turret and gear,
Though my armor is tested, I feel no fear.
We charge in among them, they feel full our wrath,
Their defenses pierced, their artillery smashed.
My driver is wounded, but I cannot delay,
So its time for First Aid and back to the fray.
Our charge it was strong we are deep in their ranks,
but their TDs surprise us, we're taken in flank.
Our plight it is desperate, we swerve and we shout,
And turret to turret, we blast our way out.
Now winded and wounded our numbers are few,
But no rest for the weary, there's much work to do.
Our flag is in danger, its pressed from one side,
Get a move on my friends, to rescue we ride!
A smashing blow causes my weapon to jam,
Without hesitation, I swerve in and ram.
The TD is broken, unable to turn,
Artillery strikes him, he begins to burn.
I reverse and traverse, repairing my gun,
Cursing and praying, but enjoying the fun.
We've crushed them between us, they're crumpled and bled,
The plow field of battle is sown with their dead.
Now battered and tattered, we wheel on the foe,
To defeat or to victory in one final blow.
We cut through their lines with a zig and a zag,
We move into their base, and capture their flag.
The battle is over and stats are displayed,
Some medals were earned and a good game was played.
Voice chat is crowded with much laughter and glee,
Boasting and bragging and comparing XP.
Thirty random players, one common desire,
Sharing a battlefield and exchanging fire.
Ten minutes have passed since I heard battle's din,
A drink and a snack and we're at it again.
In addition to the above winners, 750 gold will also be given to the following writers;
Bobby9719 – For “Battle which we cry”, it does not satisfy the main requirement, however, it is very good, so enjoy the 750 gold.

The captain gave the order,it was executed
in the smoke we wait,was it a hit?
we hear the crying and waning, men burning
houses destroyed, families broken
why do we fight? How did we become monsters and
no longer men? Why am I a beast,in a cavern made of steel
a weapon yet is a part of my body,1,2,3 as the tanks
are destroyed, and the screaming continues, it groes dark
fire,fire, i blindly move, my comrade screaming,
yet not paying attention to him and getting out
i hear a ringing in my ear, i fall.
Darkness closing in.....
Furrymongo – For “The Battle”, you just missed out on third place by a few points only! Congratulations.

With the break of dawn,
Came the fifteen strong,
Visions of glory filled their eyes
But across the glade,
The enemy blockade,
Longed for their imminent demise
Scouts were sent forth,
To recon, of course,
But the cannons laid them smoking wrecks
Flanking was done,
Artillery killed some,
With their arches of lethal effects
A lone tanker it seems,
Charged out unseen,
His chariot glistening in the sun
Moving like the wind,
His tank under him,
Death hurling from his thundering gun
His allies rode in,
To help him to win,
But in vain, it seemed too late
The tank was hit,
The tracks went to shit,
And with it sealed the tankers fate
That's when his allies,
With rage in their eyes,
Killed the last of the enemies horde
And now it was done,
The day had been won,
But such victories one can ill-afford
So let it be said,
And stories be read,
Of the men and their victorious ways
When the noble fifteen,
And their killing machines,
Rode into that valley that day
Nocture – “Ode to Artillery”, keep up the good work.

Tiger, Tiger burning bright,
In the forest on the right.
What stead hand and what stead eye,
Have nailed you with artillery.
In what distant line of trees,
Lurks the eyes that my tank sees.
And is it mirth or is it ire,
That twist their face when they yell “Fire!”.
And what tactics and what art,
Conspire to tear our tank apart.
As the rounds begin to beat,
Return fire! Reload HEAT!
With what hammer hits our treads,
Skews our tank, our driver dead.
What the fire, What the smoke.
That stops the tank our engine broke.
Just as we began to aim,
The arching shells beat down like rain.
Did he smile his work to see,
Who killed us with artillery.
Tiger, Tiger burning bright,
In the forest on the right.
What stead hand and what stead eye,
Have nailed us with artillery.
Sargent67 – “Acrostic”, an interesting concept for the contest.

Wait is on clock is ticking
Outward movement as battle starts
Race for position alas slim pickings
Leaders spot for diligent art
Dodging shots from advancing foe
Outnumbered greatly as allies fly
Fourteen to three nowhere to go
Trembling hands as last friendly die
Amassing admirers as majority fall
Near to base I feel the rapture
Killed majority just not all
Sweetest victory I complete the capture
Rupidupe – “A Tanker’s Lament”, it had an interesting rhyme style and a good story.

The red light flickers hinting at lag
Far off in the distance the enemy flag
The grind of metal as team mates race past
One rips your track off, man what an ass!
An incoming scout makes a quick, easy meal
If we can just use our heads we'll win this with zeal
Sight in a medium for kill number two, you squeeze off the shot
Damn,"That one didn't go through!"
In the chaos of battle the crap you will see
Like the guy in the loltracker taking on IS-3's
Of course he gets killed he hadn't a clue
Surely the rest won't play like that fool?
Spread out we start dying one at a time
Why go single file toward the enemy line?
Hiding from arty in a thicket of bushes
A friend ruins that smashing trees as he pushes
You hope sitting still will remove you from sight
But are immediately hit from the left and the right
No chance for stealth you run for your life
But you're now exposed, a TD's paradise!
You can't see them but boy, they see you
Blasting into your tank first with one shot, then two!
Cursing your ally you search for the key
"Where the hell's that repair kit, F1, 2 or 3?!"
You've been holding your line and defending quite well
You glance up at the score and yell "What the hell?!"
It's now five to twelve and the right side will fall
The three of you left decide you will stall
A draw sounds good when you are surrounded
And by armor you can't see are continually pounded
The landscape is splattered with black, smokey, plumes
The remains of your comrades in their metal tombs
Eight enemy around you while two cap the base
You're bewildered at how you got into this place
You back into a rock with cover for one
Three tanks fight like dogs giving quarter to none
Like 100 tons of tanks in a 30 ton bucket
It's a creek filled with shit and you're all surely up it
Your tank rocks up and down with each incoming hit
Getting off a good shot is a near impossible trick
Your ammo racks busted and your fuel tank is lit
You've lost count of the times you've been critically hit
Of four original crewmen now there are two
The Commander fires the gun while grabbing the tools
With six hit points left and blood in your eyes
You seek motivation from your team's rallying cries
But the map spams locations while the chat spams "Attack them!"
Friendly dead are now Generals like Rommel and Patton
As the capture bar fills sealing your team's fate
Dead comrades curse you as "noob" not a moment too late
With 400 lousy xp you must therefore settle
Well at least you survived and "Hey, I got Billote's medal!"
Tempest_au – “Ode to a virtual tanker”, despite its length, all the SPG players loved it.

Another day is nearly done,
The children fed, the chores complete.
Long has gone the setting sun,
None for my time now can compete.
To my box of gleaming black,
My PC sat beside the table.
Upon the chair I rest my back
As best my frail husk is able.
My head garb, padded earphones
Abates the household noise.
Near my lips the microphone,
To banter with the boys.
Two clicks, a pause, and I am there;
‘Tank-land’s eternal day.
My sweet relief from worldly care,
A place for me to play.
I look around the garage
With a General’s practiced eye;
“Fix that Hummel’s camouflage”,
I can almost hear the cry.
Then the call that brings delight
To men who feel no pain:
“Achtung! Machen kampfbereit!”
It’s time to die again.
In my mind, my eager crew
Dash quickly to their tank.
These gleeful troops that only knew,
That battles bring them rank
A seconds pause, transport through rift,
And then the battlefield;
This hallowed ground where death is swift,
To those who do not yield.
To left and right my allies
In this war that never was.
This mix of nations must surprise;
The why is “just because”.
Left of me a Soviet’s parked
His red starred IS-3.
His frontal armour much remarked,
And feared by all who see.
To my right a group of Yanks,
(The three platooned together),
Sit proudly in their Pershing tanks
And note the perfect weather.
15 commanders, 15 crews,
From three disparate nations.
Now together all their views,
As readied battle stations.
The enemy, oft called just in fun
“That awful team of red”;
We know that thoughts they have but one,
They wish to see us dead.
The timer ticks down as we wait,
Some say something gory.
How many kills before we sate
This quest for virtual glory?
Finally we cease our rest,
Our vehicles all start.
Then north and south and east and west
We differently depart.
The reckless ones gallop away,
They wish to end it fast.
No argument can make them sway,
We know that they’ll not last.
The cautious ones creep to their hides,
These campers call “defend!”
Impervious to our derides,
They’ll be there to the end.
Then the rest, those valiant few.
Those men of certain skills.
Tactically drive to the stew,
To garner all the kills.
Then alone is little me,
The tank they love to hate,
I relocate my SPG
And watch them all, and wait.
Next the clash of steel on steel,
Like viper’s spit each gun,
As they struggle now to steal
From each the other’s fun.
Above them all I sit and stare
And see the circle shrink.
I watch as armour is laid bare
And hear the shells a’ tink.
Then a boom from Hummel’s gun
And death rains from on high.
The HE ends a tanker’s fun
“**** Arty!” oft the cry.
Ignored the anger of the dead,
I’m targeting another.
I care not for what you said,
Next match I’ll be your brother.
“Boom” another ends the fight.
Another curse is heard.
I’m only doing what is right,
This language is absurd!
I move, then pause, another boom,
Tank number 3 lies dead.
Someone calls out for my doom,
Across from irked team red.
To my surprise I see a call,
“Light coming from the east”
I switch from where I saw treefall
And try and spot the beast.
A Leopard coming on the prowl
Approaches at full speed,
I start to track him with a scowl
And quickly plot the lead.
The campers shoot, the campers miss,
As campers often will.
Then through gritted teeth I hiss
“I miss, I’ll be his kill”.
Patiently I place my aim.
With care I take my shot,
For if I do not kill, but maim
My chances? Not a lot.
My luck is good, my aim is true,
The leopard’s KIA;
Then quickly I press “W”,
I need to get away!
Red’s arty lands just aft of me,
Then thunders in to right.
It’s just as well I chose to flee,
The resultant damage, light.
4 vehicles lie dead verily
The victims of my gun.
Now kill the red artillery
Before he ends my fun!
Maybe I can smoke him out,
I’ll chat to him a taunt:
“You’ve nearly killed me, have no doubt,
Yet still I’m here to haunt”
Another red shell hit the dirt,
But I had seen the trace.
“Close, but I remain unhurt”
I could almost see his face.
Another tracer on the map,
Confirmed I had the spot.
Upon the mouse a gentle tap,
“Boom”, another shot.
Now I’d 5 kills from the match
And had a little grin;
My total would be hard to catch,
This match we’re sure to win.
Another red was sighted,
Then “boom”, another dead.
If British, I’d be knighted,
But I’ll get “Top Gun” instead.
The red team taunts that I do hack,
As of them just two remain.
I tell our campers “Hey, attack!”
“Go to their base and claim!”
As our army marches in
I spot and kill one more.
I know that pride is such a sin,
But seven was my score!
At the end, the battle won,
Then port back home, rejoice!
At least I think that’s what was done,
As “garage” has no voice.
I picture how the crew returned,
My valiant group of chaps.
Medals and credits duly earned,
(and some then spent on schnapps)
But the war is never ended,
Where the sun shines all the time;
The dead and dinged are mended,
Here where murder’s not a crime
So I look upon my stable
Of artillery large and small,
And think which one’s most able
To answer the battle call.
I’ll send off Grille and Hummel
Into battle time again,
The enemy to pummel
Into scorched and bloody stain.
‘Til after many times at tilt,
So often lost and won,
Sleep deprived my eyelids wilt
And combat’s not such fun.
Then sadly I am forced to stop
And face my world of pain,
Into this poor husk I drop
‘Till I can war again.