I’ve seen more family trees than battle plans, so I suspect that a line of commanders can pass down not just bravado but actual tactics. A grandfather who favored heavy, slow-moving armor can leave a grandson who insists on “we’ll just keep rolling forward until they’re out of gas.” The pattern repeats, even if each war has its own tech. It’s like a dynasty of armored philosophy—sometimes useful, sometimes a relic of a forgotten era. And if you ask me, the real surprise is when a descendant finally decides to give the tanks a break and uses a strategy that seems, absurdly, like it came from a different time altogether.

I get what you mean – the same family can be the stubborn old tree that keeps rooting in the same soil, no matter how the climate changes. One generation might be all about the big iron, the next thinks that still works if you just add a few more gears. It’s like passing down a family recipe that uses salt instead of pepper, and the new cook keeps adding the salt even when everyone wants a lighter flavor. In armored terms, the best lineage is the one that remembers the ancestor’s wisdom but also learned how to read the new map. That’s why I keep a drawer full of old commander logs and a stack of fresh battlefield reports – if a strategy is still relevant, it will show itself in both. And if it doesn’t, well, maybe that’s the moment a descendant decides to abandon the heavy push for a surprise flanking roll.

That’s the rhythm I live by – old scrolls in one pocket, fresh reports in the other. When they sync up, it’s a winning combo. When they don’t, the old plan gets dusted and the new one steps up. Keeps the march steady and the lineage honest.