A break from the hardcore emotion/action... This chap isn't really that historical; just for the sake of the story. And why can't I write a happy Italy?D:

Dear Diary,

I can't believe it! At long last, I am off to war with mein alterer bruder! I can't describe the pride I felt when I put on my uniform. This is it – the moment I've been waiting for since as long as I can remember.

Early this morning, Bruder and I boarded the railway to Huhnwasser. The train station was bustling with hundreds of young men in uniform, each with a gun slung across his back. I was surprised to see that there were plenty of boys who looked my age – young, thin teenagers with determination in their eyes. Of course they have not nearly the experience that I do; my memory goes back about sixty years, though I'm not sure how old I actually am.

I surveyed the crowd, taking it all in. These were our people. Physically it was impossible to tell the Germans from the Prussians, but somehow I was able to recognize each and every young man who was from a German state. They are a part of me – my blood runs through their veins. I swelled with pride. These were the young men who were ready to fight and face great trials all in the name of their country. It no longer mattered whether they were from Oldenburg or Brunswick; they were German. My whole body tingled with excitement. German. How magnificent it will be when all of the states are united!

I was so enthralled that I began moving with the crowd when they started boarding. A hand grabbed my shoulder.

"Whoa, hold your horses, dummkopf. We don't ride with them."

I looked at Gilbert in confusion and he flashed me an amused grin.

"Follow the Awesome Me!"

I rolled my eyes and followed the bob of his ridiculous feathered hat through the crowd. We wove to the front of the train where a group of important-looking men stood. Their uniforms were adorned with dozens of medals and their hats were even more absurd than Bruder's.

"General Preußen!" The men all saluted and snapped their heels as we approached. Bruder saluted in turn.

"Guten Tag, Männer!" There was a flash in his eyes that told me he was looking forward to crushing Austria. It was then that I realized most of the Generals had trained their eyes on me.

"Wer ist jetzt das Kind, Beilschmidt?" One of them asked. I felt my face flush with anger. Kid? I was older than all of them put together! I opened my mouth to protest, when Bruder cut in with an obnoxious laugh.

"HAHAHAHA! Das ist kein Kind, General; es ist dein ganzes Grafschaft!"

The Generals looked at each other in confusion while I shot a surprised glance at Bruder. Were they supposed to know that I wasn't human?

"Mein… Land?" The man studied me hard with squinted eyes. After a moment he asked,"Ist dein Name Brunswick?

I glanced at Bruder and he nodded, the ghost of a smile on his face. Then I squared my shoulders and looked the General in the eye.

"Nein, ich bin Deutschland."

There was a confused murmur amongst the men. Deutschland? There is no such thing! This time I did not need Bruder's approval to speak up. I rose to my fullest height and said in the strongest, most resolute voice I could muster,

"Ich bin Deutschland! Ich bin Sachsen, Bayern, Württemberg und Hannover. Ich bin Baden, Hessen-Kassel, Hessen-Darmstadt und Nassau. Ich bin Deutschland."*

The officers all stared at me in amazement. Finally after a moment of silence, the first man saluted and snapped his heels.

"General Deutschland!" The rest soon followed, and I looked over to see Prussia grinning with pride.

"If I didn't know better, I would say that was awesome!"

I couldn't help but smile as we boarded the train and set off to Huhnwasser.

After a few hours of watching the countryside glide past the window, the train finally hissed to a stop.

"Come on Luddy! Und try not to get lost." Gilbert ignored my glare as we filed out of the car and into the warm summer breeze. The air buzzed with the voices of thousands of soldiers and orders being called out as we unloaded supplies from the train. It was about thirty minutes before Bruder and I were setting up our tent.

"Go ahead. You can say it."

I frowned at Gilbert, who was busy hammering a steak into the ground.

"Say what?"

He looked up from his work, a cocky grin plastered across his face.

"That the sheer AWESOMENESS of my army is blowing your mind in to a million little pieces! You have never been overwhelmed with so much awesomeness, and the awesome is just too much for you to handle!"

I wrinkled my nose. How is it possible that mein alterer bruder acts more immature than me? I will never understand it. I was about to mouth off to him, when something smashed into the side of my head with a giant SPLAT! Red juice ran down my neck and Bruder just stared at me, his mouth hanging open. Did I smell…tomato?

"COME HERE, YOU FUCKING POTATO BASTARD AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS TO JERKS WHO JUST STAND BACK AND LET MY LITTLE BROTHER LOSE ! YOU ASKED FOR IT, YOU GET IT, YOU FUCKING PIECE OF CRABBY KRAUT!"

Before I knew what was happening, I was being pelted by a bombardment of tomatoes while Bruder fell to the ground laughing. Red juice and squishy pulp smashed into my brand new uniform, and one hit me in the eye.

"STOP, Romano, don't hurt him!" A familiar voice called out.

"What - GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME, YOU IMBECILE!"

The barrage of tomatoes came to an abrupt halt and a bush to my left began to rustle violently. After some more shouts, cursing in Italian, and squeaks, someone launched out of the bush and sprinted in my direction.

"Romano, NO!"

Romano leapt onto me and began pounding my head with his fists. It took a minute for me to push him off, but then I socked him in the face and he staggered backwards, falling hard on his butt. I punched him again. And again. Gott, this felt good!

"Germany, STOOOP!"

For some strange reason, Italy's sobbing voice actually got me to look up. I was surprised to see that he was covered in bloody bandages, with a cut lip and bruises all over his body. His eyes were wide, as if he had just seen a ghost.

"Please…please don't fight. No more fighting." His huge amber eyes looked directly into mine, and my heart melted.

"Aww, it was just getting good!"

We all spun around to see Gilbert, who had been sitting on the ground watching the whole time. He looked on expectantly, eager for the next punch. I groaned and stood up, offering a hand to a bruised Romano, who cursed in Italian and swatted it away.

"Fucking potato bastard…"

"So…what happened?" I asked Italy. His eyes shot to the ground and his lip began to tremble.

"I – I…." Without warning, he fell to his knees and burst into tears.

"I lost! I know I promised I would win and I'm sorry – I'm really, really sorry! I really tried, I did the best I could, but Austria was too strong! He's so scary when he gets mad and he was pointing a gun at me - -"

"Hold on a sec." Bruder stood up, looking at Italy with a kind of contempt. "Did you say you lost… to ASSTRIA?"

"Si!" Italy wailed. "He's so much bigger and stronger than me, and he had a gun and it had blood on it and I hate blood but there was blood everywhere - -" His words tumbled out in a great waterfall of remorse, and by now Bruder and I had stopped listening. I tried to ignore the fact that Gilbert was glaring at me.

"I thought these two were going to help us, not drown us in tomato juice and tears! Although that was damn funny – you should have seen the look on your face when that first tomato hit!"

"YOU WANT ME TO KILL YOU TOO, RABBIT EYES?"

Despite the threat, Romano was still sitting on the ground, rubbing his soon-to-be black eye. Italy hadn't stopped wailing.

"We need to talk." Bruder muttered into my ear. I felt my stomach sink to my toes – I have never felt so embarrassed. He led me behind another tent, Romano still screaming obscenities at us. I looked down at my feet, refusing to meet mein bruder's eyes.

"Es tut mir leid." I muttered. "I had no idea…"

Bruder put a hand on my shoulder, and I reluctantly looked up into his ruby red eyes.

"Just promise me you will NEVER make an alliance with Italy again. Got it?"

I almost said yes, but then remembered Gilbert's promise to Hungary about not bothering Austria.

"Erm…Isn't it a bad idea to make promises like that?"

"Bruder, you're missing the point. They suck. All they do is make pasta. If you're going to make an alliance – for the LOVE OF GOTT – Do NOT make one with Italy!"

I gazed at the ground again, thinking. After a moment I looked sternly into his eyes.

"Alright. I promise never to make an alliance with Italy again."

"Gut." Bruder let out a sigh. "Now let's get those two dummkopfs out of my awesome camp. They're ruining the awesomeness! I will not stand it!"

I followed him back out into the open, smiling to myself. Bruder may have taught me how to cook wurst and fire a gun….

But he also taught me how to cross my fingers when I do not want to make a promise.

Mit freund lichen Grüßen,

Ludwig Beilschmidt

German Confederation

*Germany is naming some of the German states, saying that he is not one, but all of them united.

Translations:

Wer ist jetzt das Kind, Beilschmidt? - Who's the kid, Beilschmidt?

Das ist kein Kind, General; es ist dein ganzes Grafschaft! - That is no kid, General; that is your country!

Ist dein Name Brunswick?- Are you Brunswick?

Es tut mir leid - I'm sorry