Hey everyone! A Hetalia Remembrance Day story here which I wrote in June… anyway I feel really strongly about Remembrance Day and decided to publish this little piece I hope you all enjoy.

Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya

I recommend watching/listing to "The Band Played Waltzing Matilda" by John McDermott before/while or after reading this story

*Please note I have rewritten the story to add more detail and give the plot more depth. I first wrote this over a year ago and I feel my writing skills have improved since then and that I have done this story justice.

The memorial stood solemnly in the pale morning light, the morning sun gently caressing the worn stone and weathered names. Kneeling in front of the memorial the figure gently rested his hand against the faded names. Crystal like tears slowly welled up in his lilac eyes hidden behind the half-moon frames that rested daintily on his noise. His curly blond hair danced lightly as the wind rushed around him; leaves scuttling on the paved cement as the bitter chill of fall hung in the air.

Reaching inside his soft brown coat the lavender eyed man pulled out a single poppy; not the ones you wore pinned to your chest, this was simply a real poppy picked from one of the many fields they once flourished in. Gingerly the man placed the poppy against the memorial surrounded by the hundred other wreaths and poppies left there from the ceremony earlier in the day. A small polar bear cub pawed lightly at the blonde's clothed arm asking, "Who?" In a soft childlike voice.

The blonde turned ever so slightly to the polar bear with a smile that spoke of sadness and grief before in a quiet voice almost a whisper saying, "Silly Kuma you know who I am. Matthew, your owner remember? Still it doesn't perhaps matter as much today, not when so many still lay unknown."

Behind the man stood three others all of similar appearance obviously sharing some relation to the bond kneeling in front of the memorial. The shortest of the three who had sharp sandy blond hair, luminescent emerald eyes and fairly large sized eyebrows regarded Matthew with a fond smile on his face as he said, "He does this every year. He goes to every single memorial across the country; sometimes when one of the cities doesn't have a memorial he'll visit the graveyards walking slowly through the row of crosses."

The two others turned their attention away from Matthew whose head was still bowed with grief to look at their friend of shorter stature; the one with long curly blond hair (very similar to Matthew's) and stubble lining his jaw and with royal blue eyes that were usually so full of amusement of light but today shone with a humble peace. He said, "Oh Arthur I didn't know I have not spent any Remembrance day's with Matthieu; I prefer to let him grieve in peace. We all know that sometimes family support is not what we need, though it is the one-hundred year mark for Vimy."

The two nodded; flashes of phantom pain flashing through their eyes like lightning before leaving behind the somber grief that filled the air and their souls. Arthur turned to the one who had not yet spoken short golden blond hair and a small cowlick which stood proudly at the front of his head. Half square glasses framed his azure eyes and a golden tan glowed healthily as he turned to look at Arthur.

"Not to be rude Alfred, but why are you here? Aren't you usually at your own ceremonies and memorials? You celebrate veterans day no?"

Alfred nodded, a small smile settled on his face as he turned to look at Matthew's azure eyes regarding him fondly before saying, "Matthew always finds time to come and visit me even as he grieves on his own, I think I ought to repay the favour."

Proud smiles danced across the others faces as they looked at Alfred with something akin to surprise on their faces. Arthur nodded turning to once more focus on Matthew who was slowly rising from his kneeling position a soft barely audible pop was heard as he stood. Turning to them with a small smile on his kind face, Matthew walked over and pulled Alfred into a tight hug and softly whispered, "Thank you" before he turned to Francis and Arthur and pulled the three in for a group hug. Tears still glistened in Matthew's eyes and his cheeks were red from the fall air but a soft smile still rested on his face even as he turned to give the memorial one last look before gesturing for his polar bear cub to come.

Together the four of them (not including Kuma) made their way to one of the many coffee shops lining the streets as concrete giants towered above them. Finally deciding on entering a Tim Hortons with much joking refusal to go on Alfred's part, they grabbed their order of two black coffee's (one with maple), a green tea, and a pumpkin pie latte before sitting in comfortable lounge chairs resting near a small glass fireplace, with a large TV screen overhead which was running through the horoscopes for the month of November.

Nourishing his cup of coffee close to his chest hoping to absorb some of the heat with little success, Matthew stared out the window giving a small sigh. The other three turned to look at him with varying degrees of concern on their faces. Matthew continued to stare at the empty streets as red and brown leaves rolled along the sidewalk as he said "They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old: age shall not weary them nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember."

"As said by Laurence Binyon in her poem "For the Fallen" I feel as if her words both contradict our lives as well as reflect the truth. Though we shall not grow old, never feel the fading of the mind the blurring of the senses that comes with age. We still are weary and condemned. Weary of the fighting that even now in this day and age continues when peace is an option. Condemned to forever live with the memories and mistakes we've made. Yet still we persist in remembering each and every one of their lives.

Even now if someone were to ask me the name of the private who served in the 4th navy corps deployed to Greece bringing supplies I would tell you it was Stephen Smith. I could even tell you how he died, the family he left behind. All the veterans today; so few left to walk the streets with their medals gleaming in the light as they proudly hold their heads up. And yet there are now many who come from Afghanistan to Syria some barely over 30 struggling with PTSD and have seen unspeakable things.

I just wish the world, the people of our countries could see that peace is the only option unless we want to lead ourselves to our own destruction. There are more than 7 billion people on this planet and still they let their governments dictate their every moves in some countries, while others are forced to endure politicians who think nothing of their greed and corruption thinking only of the money which somehow makes the world tick, like a clock waiting to detonate.

When will they see that war is not the answer? Peace however uneasy to maintain; love will always triumph over war and hatred."

The three others stared at Matthew in shock as his words tumbled out, his gaze ever locked onto the cold and deserted city streets. He darted to look over at them once connecting with their eyes as a wave of emotion passed through the four as a tense atmosphere filled the small coffee shop that was slowly beginning to fill with people as the lunch hour started.

"I think that's the most I've heard you say in one sentence Mattie but you're not wrong. I think one day they will perhaps see the error of their ways. But as they say it's human nature some humans thrive on violence and greed but that's why there's people like Craig Kielburger, Mahatma Gandhi and Malala Yousafzai to name a few. There are people who believe in the world and believe in doing good things for other people and expect nothing in return. It's like the Ying and Yang there must be the day to the night, the good to the bad. How do you change the world? One random act of kindness at a time."

Matthew nodded a small smile on his face before he turned to look at his watch reading the small hands and looking up at Alfred to say, "It's almost 5:30 you probably need to get home I don't mean to keep you here. Al thank you for everything."

Alfred stood up and pulled Matthew into a tight hug whispering into his ear. "Come visit some time, I have a new video game we can test out together."

Matthew nodded before pulling away and watching him hug Francis and Arthur farewell (who were also leaving feeling they had overstayed their welcome) before walking out the door and into the chilly air; his coffee cup cradled against his chest as he slowly faded in the distance. He gave Arthur and Francis warm hugs expressing his gratitude for their consideration and showing up before waving farewell and stepping out the door himself.

~H~

The crisp night air echoed the coming winter as a blond man pulled his coat tightly around himself, shivering slightly as he walked through the graveyard. Row after row of white crosses covered the field as he made his way with a serene smile on his face as he let the warmth of his heart and memories encompass him. Softly as he walked he whispered the words to Flanders Field as the dew collected on the grass and the sun waited to make her appearance the world would keep on turning there was no use trying to tell it to change direction after all.

I hope you all like the rewrite I decided to take out Flanders Field as most people know the poem. The other one I used caught my eye as we say it every remembrance day and it allowed for some insight and thought into the words. I hope I portrayed America in a better light this time wanted to include the points that the reviewers left and I hope I live up to code. Thank you for reading reviews are much appreciated!