After several hours of marching, and the sky above him getting darker, they finally come to a clearing of a few houses, a field, and a barn. There are lights gleaming from inside the houses and an bigger light, which Harry can only assume is a fire pit, flickers from a small area in between the houses. Harry can't make anything out until they draw closer, where he can see a large group of men surrounding the fire, chatting and laughing. However, everything becomes quiet as the men come closer, and a couple men run out to greet the returning soldiers.
"That's a lot of 'em," One of the men comments. "are you sure we can handle that many?"
"Some of them are injured and they'll prob'ly die during the night." One of the men on the front line speaks. Harry glances at his friend, who he has yet to learn the name of yet.
"Eh, good point. I'll go get the corporal." The same man scurries off, as the group continue to push forward until they're completely in the light. Harry can hear whispers around him, and he chances a glance around, taking in the small base.
In total, there are five moderately sized houses, with a few tents pitched up in the space between each one. In the distance, about 100 meters away, there is the barn, which is a pretty good size considering. The field surrounds them, extending to the left and right about fifty meters on each side. Right behind the barn, however, there is a small clearing of about ten meters, and then the woods begin again. A small village; Harry can't figure out if these men built it, or found it. He's never seen something laid out this way before.
"Good job, boys. These ones will surely get the enemy wondering." A man begins speaking, snapping Harry out of his analysis of the surrounding area. "Get 'em into the barn, now, would ya? We still have some more planning to do."
"Permission to speak, sir!" One of the men to the side of Harry salutes.
"What is it?" The man, who Harry can only assume is the corporal of this small company, asks.
"Who is going to watch over the barn, sir? We need someone to keep watch just in case they try to escape." The man to his side continues.
The corporal seems to think for a second, before turning around to the men sitting around the fire and calling out, "Attention!" All the men from around flock to the corporal, saluting him gracefully. The corporal salutes back, allowing all the men to relax. "Which of you men would like to keep watch of these men and the barn at all times, and is willing to report any problems encountered with these men?" He asks seriously, with a look of determination on his face. None of the men react. The corporal sighs, looking around at the group. "Show your worth, men! Show that you're able to handle this tough job!" He tries to encourage them. A few of the men look around at each other.
Just then, one of the men steps forward. "I am willing to take on the task, sir." His voice is soft, and very dissimilar to all the other voices of the men surrounding him. It's not gruff, or harsh, or loud.
"What was that, soldier?" The corporal yells, and the man visibly gulps.
"I am willing to do whatever it takes to watch over these men!" He tries to match his corporals intensity, but his voice is still slightly shaky. However, he salutes and breathes out harshly, "I will not let you down, sir!"
"Good, thank you, soldier! And what is your name?" The corporal asks.
"Niall Horan, sir!"
The corporal nods, "All right, Horan." He salutes back to the man. "We will discuss your duties while they put these men in the barn. Go on, boys." All the men salute once again, and begin to march in the direction of the barn.
Harry looks back at the man, Niall Horan, and the corporal walking into a building off to the left of them, with a few more men following behind. He faces forward again, towards the barn, where a small group of three men have gathered. Once they come close enough, two of the men lift their rifles and aim it at the group.
"We'll be checking each of you, one by one. Any funny business, you're dead." The man without a gun tells the group, and Harry can hear the back line of the surrounding enemies hold up their rifles as well. Once they're all set, the front line separates enough to where one of Harry's allies can step out.
The two gunmen on either side of the man checking aim their rifles at the enemy's head, as he is patted down. All that he finds is a small pocket knife that all of the soldiers in Harry's company were provided with, and a couple rounds for his rifle, that was already taken away earlier. He's then passed into the barn, with two men from the large group following him.
After several minutes, all the men are checked, including Harry, and are put into the barn individually. No one tried to escape during the process, but Harry could tell that some were already planning a way to get out eventually. They were allowed to keep their clothes and canteens, and Harry is thankful that he didn't waste it all earlier, unlike some other men in the group.
On the other side of the small camp, Niall was given a firm talking to by the corporal and his surrounding men. His main duties were to keep watch over the barn and the men during the night, as there will be enough activity during the day and men working in the field and around the barn to notice anything going on while the sun is out.
"You will be provided with a small sleeping shelter and daily replenished materials to build a fire during the night. You will be responsible for collecting these materials each day. You still have your other duties during the day as well, but you will be temporarily pardoned from night watch over the camp, and we will find someone to replace you for all the nights you miss." The corporal explains diligently, and Niall hopes he's actually able to handle all this.
"Sir?" He asks meekly, trying to strengthen his voice by clearing his throat. The corporal nods, allowing him to continue. "What about meals, and water, for the men? We didn't capture them to kill them, did we?"
The corporal shakes his head, and a few surrounding men send each other peculiar looks. "We do not plan to kill them, no, but if any of them die in there, so be it. We will not be providing medical aid for any of their wounds. As for food and water, you will have to collect that each day and ration it as you wish. We were not expecting such a large turnout, so I must congratulate the men later on." He seems to make a note on that in his head to remember to do so.
"Sir, could I ask you to tell me the actual plan on what to do with these men, exactly?" Niall questions, and the corporal's eyebrows furrow. "I know you sent that troop out to hopefully capture some people working for the enemy, but why?"
"That is classified information, Horan. It would be best if you didn't ask any more questions." The corporal responds, a harsh edge to his voice.
Niall nods. "Yes, sir. I apologize."
"As I was saying, you will also be maintaining upkeep of the barn. You will not have to fix anything, but you will report anything broken or damaged each day to my assistant here, Jackson." The corporal motions to the man standing to the right of him, and the man standing there nods in greeting. Niall nods back, and returns his eyes to the corporal. "You will also report any suspicious noises and activity to him as well. Every death that occurs must be taken into account, so make sure to take a headcount every day and night. If you can, try to identify the men, whether by name or appearance, and report them alive, dead, or missing each day. If any men go missing and a corpse cannot be found anywhere in or around the barn, notify us immediately any we will send out a search party for them."
Niall remains silent as the corporal continues to speak. He glances back and forth between the corporal's eyes, taking note on the rather intense gaze he has on him.
"And finally, do not let any of the men know of the location of this camp. It is very important that we keep the enemy as clueless as possible, just in case, if there were any one to escape, they will not be able to return to their home base. And also, and I know this is asking a lot, but try to get as much information as you can about the location of the base that they belonged to. You might not be able to do so directly, but even just passing comments you hear will really help us pinpoint where the enemy is located. Do you understand you duties, Horan?"
Niall nods, "Yes, sir."
"Do you have any questions?"
"No, sir."
"Good. If any questions are to arise at any point, ask Jackson whenever you deliver your daily reports."
"Yes, sir." Niall salutes.
The corporal salutes him back, allowing Niall to collect his belongings from his current shelter and bring them over to the barn. "As you are doing so, I will send someone out to create a small tent for you to sleep in just outside the front door of the barn, along with a fire for the night."
Niall nods, heading toward the front door of the building they were in.
"Oh, and Horan?" The corporal calls out again, and Niall turns to attention and stands tall. "If there is ever an escape at any point during the night, you will be punished. We are entrusting you with this responsibility, and if you prove to not be doing your job correctly, you will be replaced and punished. Do you understand?"
Niall hesitates for only a brief second. "Yes, sir, I understand."
"Good. You may go." The corporal salutes, along with all the men surrounding him, and Niall stands tall, determined, and puts his hand to his forehead proudly.
Niall leaves the building and goes across the way to his tent, which he has been sharing with another man named William. When he enters, William is not there, so Niall collects his belongings quickly before he returns for the night. He's not sure if William's aware of his new job, but he's sure he's probably thankful that he doesn't have to share a tent with Niall anymore He's been complaining ever since they were paired together.
All Niall has to collect is a bad excuse for a sleeping mat and a quilt, along with his rucksack with a few personal items, such as a notebook of yellowed parchment, a dull pencil, a painted picture of his family back in Ireland, and a detailed hand-drawn picture of the people he left behind when he went to war. He flips the hand-drawn picture over, where there's faint handwriting of the names John, Mary and Elliot.
"What're ya lookin' at?" William asks, returning to the tent. Niall jumps and stuffs the picture back into the bag, crumpling it slightly.
"Nothing, just, uhm... my family. I have a picture of them." Niall explains.
"Aww, are you some kind of Nancy? Missin' your family, that's cute." William exclaims in a softer tone. "Sure you weren't misgendered at birth?"
Niall shakes his head, "I just miss them, s'all."
William pats him on the back, "Don't be afraid to admit that you're a Nancy, Horan. Don't worry, I don't judge."
Niall doesn't recall ever being called a 'Nancy' back in Ireland, and it wasn't until he started training to fight that people began calling him that derogatory nickname. Training didn't last long, so he thought the slight bullying would end once he actually got assigned to a company under a corporal, assuming that people actually fighting in the war would be much more respectful and serious, but he's still gotten a few name calls by a couple people. For the most part, though, many people have been very understanding, especially the older ones that would prefer to be homes with their families, rather than risking their life.
That's all Niall came to this country to do, as he does every other summer; come to his family farm in Virginia to spend time with his uncle and his extended family. However, he seemed to come by at the worst time, since only a few weeks after he arrived, many soldiers came to the small back-country farm in the small town recruiting soldiers to fight. His uncle was indifferent, as he didn't openly support either side in the war and would rather no one fight at all. He just wanted to stay home, with his family, and tend to his farm. However, after the soldiers left, a few people from the town pursued his uncle, threatening to burn half his crop if he didn't send someone.
Niall just shakes his head as William makes himself comfortable on his small bedding. He closes his bag, collecting everything in his hands, and then leaving the tent. William laughs as he leaves.
As Niall is making his way over to the barn, already seeing a small fire just out the front of it, another man jogs over to him, "Niall!"
Niall turns to him, smiling.
"Look, mate, I know you hated William, but was volunteering to do this really necessary to get away from him?" Louis asks. He's the only friend that Niall has been able to make since being put together in this company, probably because the reason they are fighting is slightly similar. Louis was forced to choose between dying or joining the fight when a skirmish commenced in his town, and the entire town was destroyed. Louis was left homeless and without resources for several weeks, and was found nearly on the verge of death when he was approached by recruiting soldiers in a new town he stumbled upon. Louis figured the army would provide him with enough to keep him alive, which they have, but he also wishes he could find a way out of it now that he's back on his feet. He knows his family back in England are probably worried after not hearing from him for over a year.
"It's not just that," Niall starts, motioning for Louis to follow him. The corporal didn't specify if he was allowed to have friends around his camp before everyone was required to return to their sleeping quarters for the night. "I thought if I did this, I might actually gain some respect by some other soldiers."
"I respect you." Louis adds, furrowing his eyebrows. "I think the reason you came to fight is really admirable."
"Yeah, you do, but not everyone else does. I'm sorry to break it to you, Louis, but I can't just have you to fall back on all the time." Niall sighs as they come closer to his new home for however long this hostage situation lasts.
"You went to war to save the life of somebody else, Niall. Who wouldn't respect you for that?"
Niall scoffs, "The person I wanted to save doesn't even qualify as a human being around here."
Louis sighs, grabbing Niall wrist to stop him from walking. "And who do you want to gain the respect from?"
"Someone other than you. The corporal, maybe." Niall shrugs his shoulders, trying to shake Louis off.
"Who said the corporal didn't already respect you? I wouldn't find it very fair of him to judge one of his soldiers solely for the reason he's here, if he even knows."
"He didn't even know my name, Louis. He had to ask me, in front of everyone, what I went by."
Louis shakes his head, "He's the corporal of nearly 200 people, Niall. I'd be honestly surprised if he knew his own name by the end of all of this. Also, maybe he did know your name, but he just wanted to make sure everyone else knew."
"Knew my name?" Niall questions, having not thought about that previously.
"Yeah, and knew you as the lunatic who actually volunteered to stay up all night and watch over, what, thirty men? Who, might I add, could kill you and escape as soon as you open that door."
"I see your point, but it's too late to back out of it now." Niall nudges Louis' shoulder with his own until he starts moving again. "And it's twenty-three men as of right now. I counted before volunteering."
"Or, you could just open that door and tell all those men they're free to go. Why did we even capture twenty-three enemy soldiers, anyway?"
Niall shrugs, "They wouldn't tell me. Apparently it's 'classified' or something."
"That's bull-shit. You're risking your life to watch over these men, but they won't tell you why?"
"I didn't question. They already told me I asked too many questions while I was in there."
Louis squints his eyes, "I feel like you deserve to ask as many questions as you find necessary."
"Well, I didn't. Now, get back to camp before you or I get into trouble."
"Lucky for you, I'm on night watch tonight, so you're stuck with me." Louis proclaims as they finally arrive at Niall's tent. "And that walk is way too long to make out here every day. Also, this tent is pitiful,"
He looks as he's gonna carry on, but Niall cuts him off. "Go away and leave me to my fire and tent. You have your own job to do, and I will not be the reason that you're not."
Louis grumbles, "Someone's got a stick up their ass today. But alas, I will leave you to your men. Try not to get killed." He says in a joking manner, but Niall knows there's a bit of seriousness to his last statement.
Niall seats himself on the cold, hard ground in front of his fire so he's leaning against the harsh wood of the barn. He places all his belongings on the ground beside him looking up at Louis' retreating figure.
Once he can barely see Louis' outline in the darkness, he pulls out the picture of his family back in Virginia, a sigh escaping his lips as he curls his legs up. He runs his finger over the paper, the pencil led no longer smudging due to how many times he has repeated the same motion.
"I'll see you all soon. Promise," He whispers, knowing that no one is around to hear him and hopefully no one inside the barn would care enough to listen.
On the other side of the door, the twenty-three men have seemingly calmed down. After the large group of men left, with all of their weapons, almost half of the soldiers began banging on the walls, looking for some sort of escape. The barn has seemingly been refurbished with strong boards lining the walls and several layers of wood keeping them fenced off from the outside world. The air inside the building is thick and smelling of manure, probably from when it used to hold livestock. There is a second floor but it is impossible to get to from the ground since there are no ladders, ropes, or objects that would reach high enough, even if they were stacked.
After twenty minutes, the men seemed to have given up from searching for an escape, probably exhausted from their long walk out here. A couple of the men, ones who were wounded while fighting off the enemy, seemed to have accepted their fate of death, and lie sprawled around the area, pressed against walls and some even laying flat on the ground.
Harry has found himself curled up against a wall with his ally that he was caught with. The wound in his shoulder has stopped bleeding, thankfully, and Harry hopes the bullet went clean through and it's not still lodged in his arm.
"Styles," His ally calls weakly, turning his head to him.
"Yeah?" Harry responds, huddling closer to him.
"My name is Andrew Saddlemeyer." He whispers, letting out a sigh. "Ya can call me Andy."
Harry smiles, "Nice to meet you, Andy. Get some rest now."
Andy lets out another sigh and looks up to the ceiling of the barn, "You too, Harry. You should rest, too."
The two of them simultaneously lie on the uncomfortable, dirty ground, Harry huddling as close as he can to the wall due to a small bit of warmth coming through it. It's the first time he's ever appreciated his stupid blanket and flattened pillow back at his own base, which he will probably never see again.
He wakes up the next morning to a loud bang and a blinding light. He goes to shake Andy awake as well, only to find his body cold, stiff, and lifeless.