I make my way to a tree, hiding behind it for protec tion as I look over to the 'American army'. Some times I wonder why I even keep on fighting. I rool my eyes as I look upon them, and gasp, inaduably, and feel a pian of sorrow. I mently smak myself and remind myself it's his fault! He wanted to be indepented and this is what he gets!
Most of his men were not dying because of war, oh no, it was because of the cold. I see a German leader come out from a tent and gasp, inaduably once again, and run back to my own camp sight. "Bloody hell!" I murmur, than gasp slightly, giving a bow to my own leader. "I am terribaly sorry!"
I make my way out of the tent, after he motions me out.
~~~ The Last War ~~~
I stab my sowrd threw anouther Milita, twitching slightly. I move back into formation, and call out. "Let's end this!" To my men. We move forward, I shoot once, and ram the but end of my sowrd into a Milita head, leaving him spralled, passed out, on the ground and advance. There was no formation now.
I stop to look upon the land, a land that was once so beautiful, now grim and barren from the war. I almost tear up, and shoot anouther Milita. I hold back my tears, how ever, and keep on advancing. I call out once more. "Win this for The Great Britich Empire now lads!" I hold up my gun and run forward, going into the war full force. I hear shouts behind me as my men run. The man to my left is shot, the one to my right shot down, fatilly ingured.
I stop as I look at the once so very happy face, and almost lose myself in tears. "Why?" I ask as I stand infront of him. I feel a sharp pain in my shoulder, and hold it, dropping to one knee. I let my tears loose, the rain covering it, to make it look like I wasn't crying oh so terrably. I can hardly hear the "I'm sorry." that erupts from his mouth, and I look up slightly to see him looking down at me, slightly holding back tears.
"I know." I choke out, and give a slight grin. "If you call off your men-" I never finished my sentence as I feel a really sharp pain in my back, and fall down on both knees, slowly sliding onto my front side. I can hardly hear the American drop to his knees, and anouther appology.
"I'm so sorry." He crys, not holding back his tears any more.
I give off a small smile, and let him pull me into his lap as he wraps his arms around me,leaning over me. "I know." I whisper, and let the blackness consum me.
~~~3rd Person POV~~~
The American solder leans over the body he was holding, and shouts loudly. Men every where on the feild hear the cry, and stop there fighting. The Milita holds the British solder closly and crys out, his tears slipping off his face and onto that of the British man's. "I'm so very sorry." He crys out, now wishing he hadn't told him he wanted Independince.
"I know."
