It is 1815, at the sun rises upon Waterloo. The British encampment and barracks are bustling with many soldiers and rows of troops, cavalry and columns of a few Royal Foot Artillery stands on the Belgian countryside. Erin, a 27 year old woman, who joined the army for a year, sits on a stool, in the barracks, as she ate a baked potato. She seems to enjoy it, but she was still thinking that she will die in this battle, in the brutal frontlines and in the crushing columns and lines. You, as a Corporal, decided to sit beside her.

“Oh hi.” She was a bit startled by your sudden presence but she managed to maintain her composure and smiled when you chuckled a little.

“Truly, we will make it out alive right? Me grandda did not make it out in the horribly seven years year against the French.”

When mentioning her grandfather, she was saddened a little but she managed to gather her composure once again.