Disclaimer: I do not own WarHorse or anything related to it, and most likely never will. I only own my OCs (which aren't much) and will be nice to the other characters involved.

Sam0728: Thank you for reviewing! Yeah being punched in the face does hurt! :)

MustangLover97: Thanks for the review! I will change rein soon, sorry about that! :)

DestrierSnowflakeMoonwood: Thank you so much for reading! I love your stories, and I'm truly honored for you to have read mine! I was just wondering, but who's your favorite; Albert or Nicholls? ;) Personally mines Captain Nicholls. :)


The next day I woke up to someone slapping the side of the tent and saying, "Get up! Our punishment starts now!" I groaned and pulled on my old shirt and vest with my trousers. After I pulled my boots on I crawled out of the tent into the dim light of five o'clock in the morning.

Buckley stood beside the opening, looking exhausted. I stood up and gave him a nod. I guess we're not on speaking terms yet. We started walking down to the stables, where the workers handed us shovels and put us to work.

We shoveled horse manure out of the different pens and stables for a couple hours. With scattered bits of conversations throughout. Finally when the trumpet sounded we were able to go get breakfast.

I walked back to my tent and pulled on my uniform. Wandering over to the nearby pump I splashed some water on my face while washing my hands. I went back to the mess hall and had a meal similar to the one yesterday.

After finishing my 'delicious' meal, I walked back to the stables for another round of drills. From bits of conversations I heard that practice went well yesterday, besides Buckley and I's mishap. Today we would start practicing actually using our swords on the back of an galloping horse. I mentally groaned, I'm not going to have an easy time at this.


In the first session we practiced swinging and thrusting our swords on the ground, not on a horse. That was easy enough. Then we started trying it on a standing, unmoving horse. That was a tiny bit more difficult, the sword being waved around threw me off balance. Then my arm started up a dull ache again.

Just as I was starting to get the hang of it, we were trotting slowly on the horses. I had a horrible time. Of course on the first charge the Captain, Major, and lieutenant showed up to watch, in which I fell off my horse halfway through. I groaned and stood up, Harry had turned back around when he felt the weight on his back suddenly disappear. No other men had fallen, although some had come close. The three higher ranked men were staring at me.

I growled a few choice curse words under my breath, and hopped back on Harry. We walked slowly back to the starting line, I practiced my swings and thrusts along the way. I had a few near misses, I quickly stopped throwing all my weight at the invisible opponent. Just using my arm muscles, swishing it quickly through the air. That made it easier to stay on the horse, in fact I now had no problem with that by now, but it tired my arm out three times as fast.

I stopped Harry and waited for the rest of the men to come back. We had another try at using the sword on a moving horse but I decided to make up for my blunder before and trotted up to practice right next to Perkins in front of the group. He glanced at me from the corner of his eye and snorted, apparently he found my mistake funny. I turned back to the sword and glared at the ground, may as well ignore him. He's a old, crotchety man. I decided not to let him get the satisfaction of seeing me obviously getting angry.

I held my head high and had Harry trot steadily beside Perkins. I grinned and looked over at the three bystanders, the Lieutenant was barely hiding his grin at what I could guess was; Perkin's angry face. The Major was as stoic as usual, but his eyes seemed to twinkle with amusement. Captain Nicholls was starring at the ground, his cheek raised slightly. I grinned and turned back to focusing on the drill.


We continued the charging drill with a sword for a week. Me beginning to do pushups before bed, after cleaning stalls and at lunch time. My arms were starting to get used to the weight of the sword. Buckley and I continued working on the stalls together, barely talking, as usual.

The man actually wasn't that bad, when he wasn't trying to show off or around his friends. I guess my anger at him is dying down. I didn't mind our punishment so much anymore. My whole body was benefitting from it.

Anyway, in practice we began galloping with our swords, Perkins trusting us that we wouldn't impale ourselves. The men were slowly growing eager for battle, they were tired of the safe, open field. No one has to much problems with the drills anymore, me included.

I was walking back to the mess hall when Captain Nicholls walked up behind me. He began walking beside me. I glanced out of the corner of my eye at him, trying to look lost in space.

"Hello Private Copper," he said suddenly.

I jumped slightly at his sudden voice, even though I was fully aware of him being right next to me. "Hello, Sir."

He smiled slightly, noticing my small jump, "How is stable duty going? We're thinking about ending it soon."

I smiled slightly, turning to him, I said, "Pretty good, I actually don't really mind the job. Buckley is actually not such a hot-head when he's not around other people. It would be great though, if you ended it."

He smiled, "And your nose?" he looked at it.

I reached up and felt it, it had slight bruises around the sides and it was a bit tender, otherwise it's healing. May as well tell him what was exactly happening, "Healing."

He nodded, "That's good. You doing okay with the drills?"

"Yeah, need to build up more arm strength though. My arm gets way too tired, way too quickly," I said honestly.

"Yeah, I had a hard time doing that when I first joined too," he said. His eyes becoming nostalgic.

I smiled again, "If I you mind me wondering, when did you join Sir?"

He looked wistfully at me, "I joined the military when I was twenty-one. I was an eager, anxious lad back then," he paused for a minute, "Between you and me, I'm not quite sure of this idea of a Calvary is going to work out that well," he said quietly. He looked disturbed at thought of charging into battle.

I raised an eyebrow, "Why would you think that?"

He shrugged, "Just a feeling. A very ominous foreboding," he shook his head slightly. "Lets move on, shall we? Don't want you and the men's moral going down." He smiled, trying to raise the mood.

I see what he meant, but I still couldn't help but feel excited for battle. "How long ago did you join?"

"Ten years ago," he said, "and I never once regretted that decision." He raised his chin slightly, a proud tone to his voice.

Grinning I said, "I want to help my Country, like you, Sir."

He gave me a brilliant smile, but we were at the mess hall and were to go our seperate ways. "I'll leave you to eat now."

"Thanks, Sir," I said. Giving him one last smile I turned to go inside, glowing as I made my way to get food.

After grabbing some edible looking bits of food, I sat down at a empty table, far off in a corner. To my suprise a popular, easygoing guy sat down beside me. I think his name is Steve Rogers. He was a popular member of the 54th Calvary. He was tall, with wavy blond hair, and a well muscled figure. I found him quite handsome. His friends also trailed along behind him.

"Hello, I'm Steve Daniels," he said, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Hello, Michael Copper," I said, sounding slightly uncertain.

"Nice to meet you Copper," he said, holding out a hand.

I shook it, "How's it going?"

"Good, you having a easy time at this?"

"I'm getting better," I said truthfully.

"I'm just wondering, but how old are you, Copper?" he asked curiously.

"Twenty, you?" I lied.

A couple of his friends snickered slightly, he glared at them and that made them be quiet. "Sorry about them, I'm 23. There were no wars when I was twenty, otherwise I would have joined earlier."

I smiled, "Thank you for understanding, I want to protect my Country."

"As do I, Copper," he said genuinely. He smiled and looked at one of his friends sitting across from him. He sighed, "It's okay if we sit here right?" I nodded, turning back to my soup, "May as well introduce you guys," he introduced the four men around us.

"David, Michael."

"Nice to meet you Mike," said the brown haired man with a scraggly beard. I nodded and grinned.

"Joe, Michael."

"Hello, heard about you around camp," said Joe, a tall, lanky fellow with jet black hair.

"Aren't I popular, eh?" I asked jokingly. He grinned in return.

"Ray, Michael," Steve said, gesturing to a gaunt, dark brown haired man.

Ray tipped his head acknowledgment, I nodded in return.

"Sean, Michael. Michael, Sean."

Sean, a heavily accented, jolly Irishman said, "Heard about you as well, how's the nose doing?" He ran a hand through his curly red hair, he was the stereotypical Irish man.

"I heard about you guys too. That seems to be a popular question today, it's healing."

He grinned and dug into his own food. The rest of the men, I had a feeling I would get I know as friends, followed his example. I smiled and finished off my food.

"Well, it was nice talking to you guys, but I've got to go. Punishment time!" I said with fake enthusiasm.

They laughed and David spoke up, "Don't make Josh to angry!"

"Yeah! You don't want the rest of your face smashed!" added Joe.

I ginned and stood up. "See you guys." They mumbled replies of their own as I walked away.

I was walking out of the mess hall when I felt it. Mother Nature decided to give me her gift a bit early this month. I gasped and bolted, slowing occasionally to attract less attention, to my tent. I flew inside, grabbing a couple rags and underwear, and shoved them in my pocket. I ran to the nearby outhouse and bolted the door. I desperately ripped off my pants. They were spared and luckily my underwear wasn't completely ruined. I thanked God that Amanda had the forethought to cut up rags for me to use. I did my business and left.

No one seemed to have noticed, except Buckley. I arrived at the stables in full uniform and gasping for breath. Buckley had managed to get about three quarters of the work done. I walked over to my shovel trying to be inconspicuous.

"Where have you been?" he asked snidely.

"I umm-" I paused, "was talking to Captain Nicholls and lost track of time." It was partially true after all, I had been talking to him.

He opened his mouth to respond, but snapped it shut. He glared at me and continued with his work.

I grinned triumphantly and went to a different pen and began working.