Five men sat around their dying fire in the cold, telling their stories of how they ended up fighting a war in the unforgiving tundra known as Russia.

"Let's get to know each other a little. Hell, if we're going to die together, we may as well know a little bit about each other," said a blonde British man with almost comically oversized eyebrows.

"Hey big guy, vhy don't you start?" said an albino, seemingly German by his accent, as he gestured to a large bespectacled blonde. The other men nodded in agreement.

"M' name's Berwald," the blonde mumbled.

"Why ya here, dude?" inquired a young blonde who also wore glasses and had an unruly cowlick in the front of his head.

"T' protect m' wife."

"Like, what's her name?" asked an effeminate man with neck-length blonde hair and green eyes.

"Tina."

"That's, like, totally adorable! My name's Feliks and I'm here 'cuz, like, my parents sent me. They totally said it would make me more manly and stuff."

"How old are you, Feliks?" the Brit asked.

"I'm, like, 19."

"Ah. How old are you, Berwald?"

"'M 21."

" I see. Well, my name is Arthur. I'm 23 years old and I'm here to fight for my country."

"You're from the land of fancy people?" the albino guessed, snickering.

Arthur tossed the albino a miffed look. "If by 'the land of fancy people' you mean England, then yes. And that's my idiot American brother," he said gesturing to the blonde with the cowlick and glasses.

"I'm not an idiot, dude!" he yelled at Arthur. Turning to the others, he introduced himself. "I'm Alfred, I'm 19, and I'm here because I'm the hero!"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Idiot. . ." he muttered under his breath.

"So you save zhe most awesome for last?" grinned the albino. "Okay zhen. I'm Gilbert und I'm 23. I'm here because it's vhat mein family does. Mein bruder is a pilot und mein grandfazher vas a general."

"Good." said Arthur. "Let's get last names in the case the that we would have to report each other. . . missing or fallen."

His teammates looked at him and Alfred said "Geez, dude, you don't have to make it sound so depressing."

Arthur ignored him and continued. " Go in the same order you introduced yourselves in." He nodded at Berwald to begin.

"Oxenstierna."

"Lukasiewicz."

"Kirkland."

Alfred pumped his arm and yelled "Jones!"

"Beilschmidt."

"Oh, dude, was your grandpa Aldrich Beilschmidt?" asked Alfred excitedly.

Gilbert looked surprised. "Ja. How do know about him?"

Alfred grinned and pushed up his glasses. "I like history."