All the King's Men
Adapted from: chess•com/games/view/16025085 (replace • with a period)
April 26, 1917
My dearest Emily, I fear that the war is about to begin as I write this letter to you. The White King has officially declared battle with his Majesty, and it shall not be long until we get deployed. E Detachment has already left base camp and is heading for a battle position. The general said that the battles are going to be primarily in the White Kingdom's territory, as we're planning on making this an offensive war. Take all, give none.
Leaving base to go and fight is something I have never wanted to do, especially when I'm leaving you and Sarah behind. We all knew the war was coming, but I cannot say that I wished for it to arrive now. Leaving you and my baby girl behind hurts me, but I promise it will be the last time. Captain said that my 3 years of service will be over after this engagement, so I can only hope it ends quickly so I can come home.
Looking forward to seeing you again,
Jeremy
May 5, 1917
My dearest Emily, I write to you now, trapped in conflict with both detachments of our cavalry troops ahead of me. My squad has been designated the gracious honor of defending Her Majesty and the servants of the castle (not like her Majesty needs the help), and we have been put into Detachment D. E Detachment is gone. The bastards from the south sent a raiding party of horsemen to ransack and destroy them and their camp during the night.
Word around camp is that they left no survivors.
I've heard a message from up the command that his majesty is planning on sending us out into conflict soon, and the rest of the men here in D, are both expectant and worried for what is to come. There is no greater honor than to fight for the protection of His Majesty, but those in white don't fight fair and never have.
The 63 of us in Detachment D are ready for battle, and I can only pray that the number doesn't decrease.
Hope to come home soon,
Jeremy
May 25, 1917
My dearest Emily, it's time for us to move. We've been given orders straight from Her Majesty to advance forward and run an attack on an advancing detachment of troops. We've heard word that the Queen of White has begun to move. She's quick too. I've heard a rumor that she traveled over 30 miles in one day, with nothing but her carriage and her personal guard. Ransacking scouting parties as she goes along. Like a true maiden of war. Or so the story goes...
The casualties on both sides are racking up. We've lost an entire cavalry unit and a squadron of tanks was brought down by the opposition. We were able to win that battle, as our cavalry was there to stop the tanks from advancing on her Majesty's castle, and we in Detachment D stood by ready for what felt like an eternity. When the all-good message was relayed, it seemed a great weight had been lifted off of all our shoulders.
I received the cake and those pictures of Sarah that you sent to me, and the other men and I in Detachment D had a party that night. The men who had homes to return to, and those that didn't, all joined together that night. Tonight the only thing we have is silence. Worry hangs in the air like a foul spirit, clogging up our minds and our bodies.
Ahead of us is a group of infantry, and the scouting reports say are similar in size to our group. I've also heard that one of the white's cavalry units is positioned in a way to keep us trapped in conflict with the infantry ahead. I know not what the road ahead brings, just that this fighting has only just begun.
In those pictures, Sarah looks much older now. I can hardly believe it's already been a year since I've seen you two in person.
Forever yours,
Jeremy
June 13, 1917
My dearest Emily, I'm writing this to you as mortar fire rains down around us in torrents of explosions and destruction. We've been locked in combat with a heavy infantry unit for what has felt like weeks, but the scratches in my journal tell me it's only the 13th. We dug trenches as the fighting began, and neither of us has let even an inch go unguarded. The casualties are adding up.
Just yesterday, Peter was shot by shrapnel from a stray rifle bullet. The bullet didn't pierce him, but instead grazed by and cut open his neck in a clean slice. I tried to plug up the hole made with my hands alone, anything to keep the poor kid alive to see his mother again.
God Emily, he only turned 18 in March... I still have his blood-stained onto my hands as I'm writing this letter and his screams of pain and the look in his eyes as life slowly left his body will never leave me. The other men were shocked.
There are only 47 of us left here. Who knows how many they have, hiding underneath the ground in a trench no less than a hundred yards away.
The mortar fire has stopped. I must end writing this quickly and go to do my duty to his Majesty.
I regret I cannot tell you the plan, in case of a scout intercepting this letter and finding out the plan, but I have faith it will work. It is something that the Bishops told us a couple of days ago when they were stationed behind us.
With love and hope,
Jeremy
July 19, 1917
My dearest Emily, as I'm sure you've heard, the war is going well for us. The men in charge have told me that we are winning and that the high command has a plan to end this war in little under two months.
That news could not have come at a better time.
Our rations are low. Medical supplies are nonexistent. I don't think I've seen a smile on anyone's face since Johnny took out the bottle of rum and we drank all that we could. That ended quickly when Johnny started throwing up blood.
He died the next morning. Doc. Trevor said it was probably the rats. He had bites all up and down his legs and arms. Heard a rumor going around that he even had baby rats in his stomach, but I never saw that. I can only pray that wasn't the case.
The current reports are saying that Detachment B is under fire right now. An ambush, or so I'm told. Her Majesty the Queen has rushed to their aid, but I doubt she will be able to get there in time for support. Detachment A hasn't been heard from in a week. They've been marked as MIA, despite the pleas from our captain to find them, or at least their bodies. Said his brother is in that detachment. Told them to keep sending scouts to find them.
I heard the only thing the scouts found were a bunch of unrecognizable bodies at A4. They couldn't be labeled to either side, so the search was dropped.
How are you and Sarah doing?
It's the middle of summer now, so I would hope the two of you would be out on the beaches and relaxing. This war will be over before you know it, and I can return home to the two of you.
Peter has begun to watch over me, as with the rest of the men. We all have dreams of him in his dying breaths. The labored breathing, the gushing blood, and the looks as color completely leave his face. It's a reminder to us all to keep alive. One of us has to break the news, and there are only 29 of us left to do so.
Much love,
Jeremy
August 10, 1917
My dearest Emily, I write this to you in the aftermath of our massacre. We got news from command that a group of their bishops was coming our way, and we were to intercept them and remove them from the war. We were told to abandon this strip of land we had been fighting tooth and nail for, for over 2 months, just to take out and deal with a group of priests? Needless to say, the detachment (including the captain was furious).
There wasn't much we could do, however. Command's orders are absolute. We relinquished the land and moved to ambush the Bishops of White.
They didn't last an hour.
The 24 of us in Detachment D completely cleaned them up.
The blood on my hands will never be cleansed.
They had no survivors.
We didn't lose a single man.
We didn't even know that the Bishops were moving refugees to outside the conflict area. The anti-personnel mines went off before we could do a thing.
The blood of the war keeps pooling up. I've heard that the White King's forces have almost been completely defeated. Only a couple of infantry detachments and the Queen and her bodyguards are left. I can only hope this ends soon.
Love,
Jeremy
August 12, 1917
My dearest Emily, it seems the Lord has already decided for our punishment to be brought down upon us for the terror we inflicted on those of the cloth. Our detachment began to advance to flank the King of White and his troops. But the Queen of White is headed our way.
With the little supplies we have, we stand no chance in any battle whatsoever. Four more of us have already died, just moving forward these 10 miles. Simon went out with a broken leg. The diseases and pain got to him. Captain was the one who put him down. None of us could do it.
He's been held up in his tent since then. Gnives went to report the situation with the Queen of White approaching and said that he heard the Captain talking to command on a radio. Gnives said he heard command say that no reinforcements would be coming for us. The 20 of us are on our own and tomorrow we fight the Queen. The maiden of war, or so the rumors say.
We agreed to send Billy back to base. He has the fastest legs, and we old ones don't want to see another child lose their lives fighting this war. I've given him this letter in hopes that it will find its way to you and Sarah before the Queen reaches us, and no more letters can be sent.
It's a quiet night. The stars are shining brighter than they ever have back home. It would be beautiful, if not for the heavy dread upon my shoulders. Pushing me down into the ground. Slowly draining the power out of my body, and replacing it with fear. Perhaps this is how they win. Not with might, but terror. There is nothing scarier than knowing that nobodies coming to help.
The only sounds of tonight are of cicadas, prayers loudly spoken for all to hear in about four different languages, and the tears of fear and regret falling down many of our faces.
Tomorrow is the last day. Tonight is little more than the final supper for the 20 of us.
I love you so much. More than I could ever put to words. Sarah is my greatest pride and my strongest joy in this life. It hurts to say goodbye, but this is my last chance.
I love you.
Goodbye.
Jeremy
AN - This was a lot of fun to write. I wanted to do something funny for April Fools day that's not just a pure joke, so I was like "What's the stupidest thing I could possibly write a fanfiction about?" My friend Mac was playing chess right next to me, so it was then decided. Another idea I had was checkers, but that would be incredibly hard. This did get a lot more depressing than I thought it was going to be. Setting is inspired from WW1 (duh). Title is from a WW1 movie of the same name, but I thought it fit with the story (really good movie btw, from 1999). Don't take this story seriously, as I didn't take it seriously when writing it. Thanks for reading!