[b]The last Night at Home[/b]
James and his family sat around the dinner table silently eating their supper. The only sound to be had came from the clinking of their utensils as they came into contact of the plate. Suddenly James's father stopped eating and put down his utensils gently and looked at James. " James I would like to have a word with you."  He said as he stood and excused himself from the table. His voice mild and even tempered and uncharacteristically quiet. "Let's go boy." He says as he waits for James. Silently James stood up and followed his father out onto their front porch.
 The night was cool with a soft breeze floating in from the sea. Being outside of town James had gotten used to the homestead life style with little to no contact outside of town.
"James...tomorrow morning you are leaving here and you will be reporting for duty with the militia." He said softly as he looked out down the dirt road that lead to town. "You have been called to defend the country...I know we have already talked about this... But I have a friend that can get you a nice post on base." He said as he walked town to where the front gate of their house. "Though I don't know why I asked...You made it pretty clear last time, I..." He said as he stopped at the front gate and turned around to look at his song. With a half smile James's father clears his throat and says "You know both your mother and I are proud of you... Between your mother and I we could have gotten you a desk post at a training facility for the regulars..." He said as James cleared his throat and spoke before his father had a chance to continue
 "I know that father...I love and am forever grateful for everythinjg you and Mom have done...But I can't let others do my fighting. I know it must be hard for you to let Walter and I go off to war, there isn't much that could be done for Walter since he's with the regulars and all." James said as he thought about his old mustard yellow uniform laying neatly folded atop a pile of his old school books. "But I need to do this...this country has given me so much that I couldn't do anything else but put my life on the line for a country that I love, especially in it's darkest hour." James had never been a cruel or violent man, he hated the idea of fighting and he hated knowing there was a chance his mother may get a letter telling her her son had died in battle. The very thought tore at his heart strings and knew his parents would think about it every time the mail arrived. Yet so many more parents had would go through that. How many mother's would look at empty space at the dinner table knowing their child would never sit there again. 

[b]Second Militia Headquarters: second regiment recruit depot[/b]
James, along with over a dozen other new arrivals sat silently in the back of their canvas covered truck. Even with the back open many of the recruits were sweating. They had just entered the base when the truck slowed to a stop and the yelling began. "Off the trucks!" Someone yelled, as everyone in the truck began exiting the vehicle. Quickly the troops formed into ranks and the roller call began. After about an hour of calling names James was told where his unit was. 
 Quickly he found out his squad barracks and put his stuff away. Quickly James went to find his CO. After a few minutes of asking various people he got directions to the squads workshop. Upon arrival James sees several people speaking within.