Title: Remembering the Fallen

Rating: K

Notes: The tale about Thomas is true, if you do a search for 11 Facts of World War 1 you should find it.

Summery: Arthur has decided that he doesn't want to go to the Armistice day memorial, though Matthew was going to go with him, instead the two talk about past wars/.

The blonde haired Canadian walked up to the door of Arthur Kirkland's house, all dressed up in his former uniform for the Remembrance Ceremony that was to take place in a few hours' time. He raised his hand to ring the doorbell only to see Arthur walk over to him from the garden.

He blinked in surprise, Arthur was dressed in his usual get up, trousers and a white shirt with a pull-over.

"Eh, Mr Britain…" He said softly and Arthur just grunted as he walked into the house; "Mr Britain!" He tried to be a bit louder.

"Bloody rabbits…" Arthur muttered under his breath, still not noticing his guest and walked into the kitchen.

"Mr Britain!" Matthew tried once more, only to trip over a rug with a loud thud, which caused Arthur to look at him in surprise.

"Matthew? What the bloody hell are you here for?" Arthur exclaimed, wondering how he got into his house.

"It's… It's Remembrance Sunday…"

"Oh, yes…" Arthur said; "I'm not going this year,"

"You should get…" Matthew let that comment sink in and he looked at the older nation, wide eyed; "What?"

"I'm not going this year, I want to pay my respects in my own way, not in front of a crowd of people who think I am a regular human, but as a nation, I want to respect those who died in my own way," Arthur explained and began to make some tea, for himself and Matthew.

"B… But why now? Why not…"

"Because now I don't care what the rest of the world thinks, the economy is dire, we're still at war, although not a great as those two wars were and we are still arguing with each other. Every time I see France I want to fight him and I usually do, that's not what the day is meant to be about," Arthur put out the milk and sugar on the table.

"What do you remember?" Matthew asked him and Arthur blinked, he had no idea why he was surprised at such a question, it was Matthew, not America.

"So, many things. Too many horrors. I suppose the older a nation is the more they are meant to be immune to such horrors, but to do that would make us cold and unfeeling. I remember the screams when the lads left the trenches, when the fights took place in farmers fields it wasn't only the cries of the dying men that you could hear, but also the farm animals who were caught in the cross fire," Arthur paused and looked at Matthew; "But which war did you mean?"

"Both,"

He looked at the clock; Five minutes until tea. He sat down across from him; "I remember a man, called Thomas, he had been gravely wounded, at least everyone who saw him thought so, so did he. He had been hit in the face, no one knows from what though, possibly a bullet or a shard of something, but whatever it was, it had tore away the lower parts of his face, the nose, mouth and jaw. He had been wounded on the 6th November 1918 just before negotiations had begun for Armistice, he was still alive and conscious when Armistice took effect as well. The nurses were shocked, very few people could survive from wounds like that, and survive he did, he had reconstruction done to his face and he almost had a normal looking face five years later,"

Matthew looked at him, wide eyed; "Really? Were you… friends?"

"No, no," Arthur shook his head, a nation couldn't be friends with a human, it wasn't done, it was too hard; "I visited, I went to the trenches and even fought there, but I was always moved somewhere else, just in case. The enemy side could learn of my being there and all they would have to do is throw a grenade…"

"But that wouldn't kill us," Matthew pointed out.

"But it would kill the soldiers around me, a lot of them gave up their lives for me, they didn't know it, but it's true, they died for me, but I was a major risk, I was a target for them, much like Germany was a target to us," He moved back to the tea pot and began to pour out the hot liquid into two cups.

"Half nine," Arthur commented as he sat down; "The last British soldier to be killed on the 11th at this time, he was scouting around Mons,"

The two became silent for a minute, remembering before Canada spoke;

"One of my soldiers was killed two minutes before the 11th hour, just north of Mons," Matthew took a slow sip of his tea.

"I remember the commanders of the Allies saying that it was a mistake to let Germany simply lay down their arms instead of actually beating them," Arthur said thoughtfully.

"I heard that too, at the time America's soon to be President also thought that, he kept firing at the German trenches until a few minutes before Armistice,"

"General Pershing predicted that since Germany hadn't begged for peace on their knees inside a ruined Germany then the Allies would be back to fighting them again," Arthur commented, finding it funny that such a serious man could make such an astonishing prediction.

"France said that Commander Foch read the treaty of Versailles he said 'This isn't peace. It's a cease-fire for 20 years',"

"Well, a smart French man, don't find many of those," Arthur commented; "As good as it was for the war to end, even if it was only for two decades, the mental state it left…"

Matthew nodded slowly, he remembered seeing some men on the street as he walked around London, if children were playing loudly the men would run and curl up in an alley way.

"But… It was you and the Commonwealth who killed the men who had shellshock," Matthew pointed out and Arthur looked away.

"Yes, yes we did. I don't know why, General Haig had said that all the men who had been accused or were accused of being cowards and deserted the ranks were all examined by the Medical Officer and none were sentenced to death if it was thought he had shell shock., of course we know now that he lied to us, misled the House of Commons on the matter. All of them were never examined by the Medical Examiner, or if it had been it was ignored and the man was shot anyway. We had our own war criminal in our own ranks," Arthur admitted; "I remember seeing those men who were sent away, the lucky ones who weren't murdered. The children used to taunt them in the street. Their own families didn't know what to do apart from send them to a hospital far away,"

"Now we know better," Matthew stated.

"Yes, we do. Or we should do," Arthur slumped; "I hope, I always hope that we will never need to answer the call for war any more, that my people will only need to be sent out to another country to help them," He laughed bitterly; "That's rather naive of me isn't it. The former Empire of the world, hoping for peace,"

"But…" Matthew stopped talking; he noticed the clock and pointed at it for Arthur to see.

The two became silent, thinking of the past, the bitter taste of seeing one of their own people being killed, the men and now women, who risked their lives, but not just for the country that they were born and raised in, but also for other countries.

For a moment they remembered the past, not just the men in the front line who risked themselves to defeat an enemy, but also those behind the front lines, the people who cared for those soldiers, like Thomas, who was surly seen as a miracle by many.

They remembered what was lost, the many lives, in battle against an enemy, in a battle against infection and the battle of the mind.

They remembered the glorious days of peace, of seeing the soldiers return home to their loved ones, of the celebrations that were had on the streets, the joy that no more bombs would fall upon so many cities.

They remembered.

They would never forget.