I do not own Hetalia, so please support the official release because it is as awesome as Prussia! ^.^
England gasped as the bullet pierced is chest. A red stain slowly expanded like a blossoming flower around the hole in his uniform. He stumbled but would not fall. One of his men lay wounded in no man's land and he was not going to let him die there.
The bandages that were already wrapped around his chest were soggy with the fresh blood. The large cut that extended across most of his chest from the blitz was starting to reopen. Another bullet hit him in the leg. He fell to one knee but picked himself up and ploughed on through the mud.
Barbed wire lay between him and the fallen soldier. Having nothing to cut it with, he crawled underneath it. His helmet snagged on the wire and stopped him from getting any further, he unclipped it, he'd put it back on when returning.
The mud got into his cuts and it stung, but he wasn't going to let that stop him. Not with a man in need of help on the other side of the thorn bush of wire.
He was finally free of the wire, though it had scratched his back and left long tears in the back of his uniform. He half got up before being shot again in the chest. He felt his strength ebb away as he forced himself to get up again and get to the soldier who lay in the mud hardly ten meters away.
He knelt beside him. He was a mere boy of 19. It sickened England too see someone so young in the war, he looked to out of place in his youthful innocence. The boy was unconscious so England lifted him and took him to the barbed wire. England laid the boy on his back and pulled him alongside him through the barbed wire, careful not to hurt the lad.
Out the other side, England put his helmet back on and lifted the young soldier into his arms, using his back as a shield as he carried the youth back to the safety of the trenches. Several bullets hit England in the back, but he ploughed on, fighting the pain. His breath now came in short rasps and sweat drenched hi forehead. England thanked god that he was a nation, or he was sure that he'd be dead by now.
A final bullet brought him to his knees. He was so close to the trenches, he had but 20 or so meters to go. England tried to stand but couldn't find the energy to make his limbs move. A soldier climbed out of the trench and came to help him. England handed him the soldier that was laying in his arms and panted out the word 'Go!' The soldier nodded and took the injured soldier to the trench.
England started coughing, and blood dripped from his mouth. He doubled over onto all fours, staring straight down into the mud. The cut from the blitz had now fully opened from the strain and fresh bullet wounds. England couldn't remember much else. He could faintly remember his older brothers Scotland and Wales at his side before he collapsed into the mud.
Please review this, I do not mind critisism because I shall learn from my mistakes! In fact, I rather want a few critisisms so that I know what to change in future writing 'nd stuff ^.^