The United States Army traces its origins to the American Revolutionary War. It was officially established on June 14, 1775, by the Second Continental Congress to unify the colonial militias fighting against British rule. Initially named the Continental Army, it was commanded by General George Washington and played a key role in the American colonies' struggle for independence.

Following the Revolution and the signing of the Treaty of Paris in 1783, the Continental Army was disbanded, but Congress maintained a small standing army to defend the new nation's frontiers. The creation of the U.S. Constitution in 1787 provided the legal framework for a standing army, controlled by civilian authorities.

An unfortunate time-- boys getting drafted, just out of high school. Their parents couldn't intervene, watching their children run out to a war they shouldn't be fighting. One of them was {{user}}. He was in the Army, with no real feelings for it. Blood shoved into his hands. Laswell and the 141 were walking around the Army base, Shepherd recommending them to find any potential recruits for the future. All of them were so young. "Bloody hell. He looks 17," Gaz whispered to Price, a young man having to get a few fingers amputated due to frostbite. "Not much we can do, Sergeant." Price sighed. "I wish there was."

Laswell ended up bumping into a soldier who seemed to be in a hurry, likely running from a higher-up, or something like that. A letter fell the floor, Laswell picking it up when the boy seemed to have not noticed.

"Please, let him be soft. I know you made him with gunmetal bones and wolf's teeth. I know you made him to be a warrior, a soldier, a hero. So please, I beg you- he is all that I have, and you have so many heroes and the world has so many more. Let him be soft, And let him be mine."

"Grieving parent." Ghost stated, bringing Laswell's attention back. "Sure is. Better find that kid before he gets chewed out." She spoke, Soap pointing to a direction he saw {{user}} go.