August 10th, 1914.

Amiens, France.

As German Forces began their full annexation of France, the United Kingdom stepped in to stop their progress, in fear they may be next.

This is told from the eyes of Axel Lange, a simple medic in the German Empire.

The sound of gunfire echoed through the once-crowded city, soldiers of the German Empire and Great Britain scattered across the east and west sides of the area, each one exchanging shots at one another. Some were lucky enough where the bullet merely passed them by, and God had given them a second chance. Others did not have that luck, the flying lead projectile penetrating what little armor for a helmet protected their head, killing them instantly if positioned correctly. Around twenty percent of each of those who were shot did not make it out alive to see tomorrow, but one man was dedicated to change that for the fatherland.

"Enemy snipers to the left! Keep your heads down!" One of the German soldiers yelled out to his comrades, only peeking over cover before a bullet from a British scout merely grazed his left eye, causing him to stumble over, clutching it as the shot had only left a slight burn. Another soldier rushed over to him, sliding into the same area for cover, another bullet flying right past him, only to hit a soldier behind him directly through the heart. This was Axel Lange, the medic in his small squadron tasked with holding down the west bridge that led to the German's side of the city. He stood at 6'1", weighed around 193 lbs, with lightly tanned skin. His eyes were a light brown, his hair a darker shade of the same color, almost easily mistaken to be an Italian, or an American.

"Just stay down, make sure you are not bleeding. From your injury, I can tell you will make it out of here." The medic said to the soldier, placing down a small satchel of medical supplies as he quickly, but efficiently, applied a few bandages to the wound along with some disinfecting liquid, which made the burning sensation even worse. Suddenly, the ground began to tremble as the Germans encountered a much larger, stronger enemy, the British Mark V Landship.

"Enemy tank! Fall ba-" A soldier began, attempting to run from his cover before it, along with him, was blown to smithereens by one of the 20mm cannons on the side of the giant tank. It began to advance slowly, the Germans having to slowly retreat as any officers in the field had ordered them to. The machine gun on the front of the landship gunned down anything it saw, the United Kingdom troops slowly pushing up through the bridge, using the behemoth of a tank as cover for them. As the English forced pushed forward, Axel came to realize that death would be near if he did not follow orders, either from his officers or the enemy troops. He grabbed the injured soldier and hauled him to his feet, soon using whatever strength he had to sprint away from the oncoming tank. The voice of German soldiers was heard from nearly all angles, especially the man he was carrying as he took five machine gun shots for the medic, falling to the ground with a thud. Axel dropped him and ran normally with the rest of his battalion, soon noticing one of the soldiers dropping what looked like a cluster of grenades. Realizing what it was, the medic picked it up and began to run towards the British Mark V, soon pulling the pins of the grenade and lobbing it in back of the tank from around the corner of a building, a hail of bullets passing him as he retracted back into cover.

"I hope that wasn't a dud. If that is, then I'm not sure what will save us now." He said to himself, unholstering the semi-automatic handgun that had hung from the left of his torso, having no time to take out and load the bolt-action rifle that he had strapped to his back along with various other medical supplies. Suddenly, the ground shook harder for a second, a massive explosion going off around the corner as the light of the fire illuminated the area, and then it stopped, the medic peaking around the corner to see what had happened. The grenade was not a dud, it had taken out the treads of the Mark V and killed the soldiers behind it. The soft crackling of the fire could be heard from where Axel stood, the flames already engulfed the inside of the tank, seeping out through the new dents in the vehicle. Suddenly, the side door swung open and a British tanker hopped out, stumbling to the ground, standing up and looking right at Axel. The German man was worried for a second. This had been his first time on a battlefield and it was almost time he took someone else's life, being inches away from pulling the trigger. The British man then rushed at Axel, grabbing a severed piece of metal from the explosion and holding it up to protect him. The medic fired three shots, each shot doing nothing to the man as he was rammed against by the enemy. The man dropped the makeshift shield and grabbed Axel by his collar, winding back a punch when a sudden shot rang out and the man jerked his head back, falling over dead.

"H-how did…" Axel began, soon turning to look at what had caused the shot. In one of the attic windows of the buildings that overlooked the west bridge, was a sniper, the glare of the sun against the scope clearly pointing out where he was. The man lowered his weapon and nodded to Axel, the medic returning it with a smile.

"Danke!" Axel called out, waving to the man in the window.

"Keine Ursache." The sniper responded, making his way down to meet Axel as the two walked back to the German lines, the other soldiers already advancing forward once more. The two began talking to each other, mostly just Axel thanking the man for saving his life from the enemy. They didn't have time to get acquainted with each other as the officers began to bark out orders to move up and secure the lines, the two of them nodding and then splitting up to join back with their respective squadrons. With this area of France secure and under German occupation, it was time that they were either stationed at one of the newer forts they had captured or moved back to Germany to await further orders.

"Reporting in, sir. What are your orders?" The medic said with a slightly enthusiastic voice, saluting as he approached the Colonel that his battalion was assigned to follow.

"Your squadron along with two others are being transferred back to Berlin. We have just received word of a possible American attack. Your orders are to have the three squads set up defenses around this location, use anything you find necessary." The man said, handing Axel a folded sheet of paper with a red, wax seal on the paper, the Imperial German insignia visible on the seal itself. He nodded, placing the paper into the right pocket on his blackish-grey trench coat, a uniform medics and snipers alike have worn through the war. Axel then headed off to gather the small division of men, not wanting to disobey orders from his commanding officers, which could inevitably lead to either arrest or even execution by placing him in the front lines. The medic soon met with the other two squadrons, having already gathered his own and began to speak to them.

"Orders have arrived from Colonel Schneider, we're being relocated back to the fatherland to defend against a possible attack from the Americans. Make sure everyone has their equipment and we will move back." The medic called out to the group of fourteen in front of him. As they heard this, questions began to be passed around through the group.

"Americans planning to attack us?" One soldier asked.

"Apparently so. Do you think they are well armed?" Another replied, asking his own question.

"I heard they had tanks just as powerful as the British, only a lot more of them." A third one explained to a friend of his, one of the other soldiers soon moving to silence the group.

"Instead of worrying what they have, think of what we will have when we get there. The colonel said to use anything we think is necessary for defense, which means we may stand a chance, even if they do have one of those tanks." The man said. Axel noticed who it was and simply stood back and listened with a smile. This was the sniper who saved his life just a few minutes ago, Adalbert Wissenaug, possibly the smartest, most proficient sniper in the entire battalion. He stood at 6'3", his suntanned skin barely showing behind his uniform apart from his face, and his green eyes which brought attention to his face, which possessed a scar across his mouth from previous battles.

"Wissenaug is right. The colonel did give us that permission." Axel added, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back against a supply crate.

"Now, let's move out, we are burning daylight." Adalbert finished, grabbing his Gewehr 98 MA as he headed towards one of the jeeps that had been waiting for them. Axel did the same, making sure the Selbstlader M1916 AR was still strapped to his back and loaded. The other soldiers of the squadrons made sure to gather their weapons and equipment before loading into the trucks, already speeding off back to Berlin, leaving Amiens behind, most of them glad to be going back home. The only thing that will change about the battle, Axel and Wissenaug will be on the receiving side of the attack, against a larger, possibly more trained battalion of American soldiers.