April: 1917
*Fredrik Hammilton sits on a broken peace of rubble in the Canadian city of Wenipeg. It had been two days since Canada and the United States had surrenderd to Germany and it's allies. He was, or at least use to be, part of the Canadian Army. His eyes filled with tears as he looked around at what was left of the city. He had been born and rased in the Domminion of Newfoundland, but he loved Canada. He had hoped that once the Americans joind the war they would have a fighting chance. But he was wrong. First the damn Germans attacked northern Quebec and slid into Nefoundland. That brouth the Yanks onbord with the Canadians and what was left of their friends from Europe. But then the Austro-Hugerians attacked threw Mexico, who they had forced into letting them threw. They were able to fight the Germans back a long ways... almost out of the country.. the Americans were cleaning up with the Austro-Hungerians... but then... some how. The Ottoman Empire landed its armies on the West coast. With in days all of the great North American forests wre in flames. The Canadian and American armies were spred to thin... and now... all that was left was to wait. Wait and see what the result of the war would be. If the nations would recover. Fredrik went back to flipping the German dog tages he took of a man he stabed in the chest minuts before Winipeg fell. "A.Hitler" they said. He frouned. The man's last words were in english. He had pulled Fredrik close to him and wisperd "destiny" then died. He disirved it. For what his people did to Canada. He clenched the tags in his hand.* "They all disirve to feel the pain Canada has felt."
*Fredrik Hammilton sits on a broken peace of rubble in the Canadian city of Wenipeg. It had been two days since Canada and the United States had surrenderd to Germany and it's allies. He was, or at least use to be, part of the Canadian Army. His eyes filled with tears as he looked around at what was left of the city. He had been born and rased in the Domminion of Newfoundland, but he loved Canada. He had hoped that once the Americans joind the war they would have a fighting chance. But he was wrong. First the damn Germans attacked northern Quebec and slid into Nefoundland. That brouth the Yanks onbord with the Canadians and what was left of their friends from Europe. But then the Austro-Hugerians attacked threw Mexico, who they had forced into letting them threw. They were able to fight the Germans back a long ways... almost out of the country.. the Americans were cleaning up with the Austro-Hungerians... but then... some how. The Ottoman Empire landed its armies on the West coast. With in days all of the great North American forests wre in flames. The Canadian and American armies were spred to thin... and now... all that was left was to wait. Wait and see what the result of the war would be. If the nations would recover. Fredrik went back to flipping the German dog tages he took of a man he stabed in the chest minuts before Winipeg fell. "A.Hitler" they said. He frouned. The man's last words were in english. He had pulled Fredrik close to him and wisperd "destiny" then died. He disirved it. For what his people did to Canada. He clenched the tags in his hand.* "They all disirve to feel the pain Canada has felt."