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[centre][i][color=4C00FF]Come on, calm down,[/color][/i] Zac told himself as he took a deep breath. He could feel his heart beating at a mile a minute in his chest from some odd combination of excitement, nervousness, and utter dread. He thought he was ready. He thought he'd be able to handle whatever came his way. But, ever since hearing about the Hill 58, then finding out he had been assigned to the 15th Atlantic Rifles, the regiment that had lost 700 men and women during that battle, he hadn't been able to get his nerves completely under control. He'd be fine for awhile, until he thought about the stories he had heard, then he'd end up leaning against a wall, trying to calm down like he was now. [i][color=4C00FF]You're not even on the train, but you're acting like you're in the middle of active combat! Just think about it like hunting with your da back home...No, no, don't think that. That's bad. Just take deep breaths and you'll be fine.[/color][/i] Breathing deeply, he leaned back against the station wall, his rifle next to him, as he thought about how he ended up waiting to go into war.

It all started with that letter, telling his family that Colin had gone missing and was presumed dead. Then the arguments between himself and his parents, how he just couldn't accept that Colin was dead, that he just [i]had[/i] to go to war just to try to find him. His parents eventually relented just before his 18th birthday when he pulled the I'll-be-eighteen-soon card. Knowing Zac would have enlisted after his birthday, they had decided it was best to let him go rather than risk him resenting them. A few months of training and here he was, getting ready to go into battle.

He glanced over to a pair of young men, about his age, as they talked about sending the enemy running and found himself wishing he shared in that confidence instead of trying to get his heart to settle down. It was then that he remembered something his father had told him before he left: [i]Your calm heart is your greatest strength. Be the anchor your allies will need when shit hits the fan.[/i] Zac took another deep breath and felt his heart settle. [i]Don't think about it as killing the enemy,[/i] another voice says, this time his sharpshooting instructor. [i]Think about it this way: from your position, whether it be high up or well behind the frontline, you're more likely to see threats before any of your comrades do. For example, an enemy force attempting to flank your allies. Being able to see and react to those threats before any of your allies will allow you to save more lives than if you were fighting next to them.[/i]

[i][color=4C00FF]I can do this.[/color][/i]

He looked down at his rifle. Instead of seeing it as a harbinger of what was to come, as something to be afraid of, he began to see it as a tool to save the lives of those he would come to care for. Instead of being purely a sword to kill the enemy with, it would be a shield to protect his friends with.

[i][color=4C00FF]I can do this.[/color][/i]

Zac reached down and picked up the rifle. It felt heavy. But, if it meant he could keep people alive and stay alive long enough to find his brother, he'd gladly carry that weight as long and as far as he possibly can. Hopefully until the end of the war, that is.

[i][color=4C00FF]I [b]will[/b] do this.[/color][/i]

Shouldering his rifle, Zac looked ahead. His heart was calm. His mind was no longer racing with worst-case scenarios. Carrying his greatest weapon, he finds himself smiling easily, just like he used to at home. [color=4C00FF]"Right, then,"[/color] he said as he began walking toward the train. [color=4C00FF]"Let's get this show on the road."[/color][/centre]