We're just going to brush over training a bit because I want to get to the actual plot. Also, again, sorry for anything incorrect as far as my military knowledge… I'm keeping it fairly vague on purpose. I just, honestly, do not have the time or energy to do extensive research at the moment. But if you are a WW2 military buff and would like to offer your expertise to help me fine tune, by all means feel free to shoot me a DM!

Enjoy the 3rd chapter!

"I'm not going to leave mom May."

It was a promise- and it was a promise he had full intent of keeping. But it was also a promise he had made nearly three months ago, and a lot can change in three months. A month ago, there wasn't a grave with the name 'Mary Parker' inscribed on it.

It was two weeks after Steve left that her health declined, and the week after that that she passed. Week four was a meager funeral, one Steve could not make it back for. The next month was when Peter enlisted. His papers stated him as a 19-year-old named Parker Peterson (he wasn't very creative with the cover name).

The day he left, he waited until May had left for work. He then placed a jar of change- not much, but everything he made delivering papers (which she had insisted he save for himself)- on the table, along with a handwritten note.

May,

I know you'll probably hate me for this, but I had to go. You were right, I couldn't have left mom… it would have destroyed her. But she's gone, and I can't be the thing holding you back from finally having a life. You shouldn't have to be worrying about taking care of your little brother. I left you all the money that I've made this summer. It's the least I could do after you gave so much for me.

I'll write you as often as I can, however often that may be. Good bye, for now.

Love,

Peter

P.S. Please don't tell Steve about this, I would rather not have him track me down.

Training had gone by fairly well. It wasn't easy, per say, but he didn't have too much of a struggle. He wasn't outstandingly skilled, but also was not the worst, and this was how he preferred it since, being three years under age, he didn't want to draw any attention to himself.

After his training, he was sent to some small town in France. They were sent in a boat, and while it was a long trip, it was not unpleasant. He got to acquaint himself with a few of the men in his unit. He could tell a few had their doubts concerning his age, but none of them pestered him about it- which he appreciated.

John Wilkins, 22-years-old, was the most lively by far. He made sure to show them all a picture of his girlfriend that he had smuggled in his underpants (which Peter was sure she would love to know). She was a girl named Anne, with long, light hair, and a pleasant look. He smiled, a genuine smile, whenever he spoke of her, which made Peter happy.

There was also a man in his later twenties, who insisted they just call him Jack. He had a personality that only a dad could have- which made sense when Peter learned he had a 3-year-old daughter named Claire (of whom, he did not keep of in his underpants), and a son on the way. Peter liked being around Jack, maybe because he never really knew his own dad. It was melancholy knowing what it may have been like if his life had played out just a little bit differently.

The other person he got to know pretty well was the youngest of the bunch (besides Peter himself). An 18-year-old named Alexander Smith. He told them about his plans to go to, after the war, go to school to become a teacher. He knew it was a 'woman's job', but he wanted to follow in the foot-steps of his own mom. "And besides," he stated, "she always said that any person should be able to any job, and I think that too, so I plan to respect it." Peter decided that Alexander's mom and May would get along great.

When they arrived, he was placed in a battalion under an officer by the name of Captain Rodgers. As he stood in a line, at attention, with the other privates, he felt more nervous than he had since turning in his papers. He heard the loud steps of the officer approaching, and chanced a glance in the man's direction.

At the sight of the man, Peter froze- rigid in his place. Suddenly incredibly grateful that his helmet was too large on him, he directed his gaze forward, hoping he would go unnoticed. Luck, though, was apparently not on his side, as the commander officer stopped directly in front of him. He read off his name, as he stood at attention- gaze still directed downwards, hiding his face.

"Eye-contact, Private." The Captain stated, and Peter obliged, hoping that maybe (just maybe) the man's gaze would be held elsewhere. But as he shifted his head, he was met with the undeniably blue eyes of his older brother, as they widened in shock then narrowed with warning. Steve cycled through the rest of the names briskly, as Peter's heart beat heavily in his chest.

Still, it took seemingly forever for Steve to make it down the line, and when he did, it brought Peter no reassurance. Peter almost thought he got away… almost. But he knew better.

"Peter…son come with me. The rest of you go back to camp." Luckily none of the other men gave him any strange looks. He would take comforts where he could find them, as he was sure he was about to get the lecture of his life.