A/N: Yea so this is about the Battle of Vimy Ridge - a story I wrote a few months ago when we were still learning about WW1 in my Canadian history class. If anything is historically incorrect [I spent two hours studying the Wiki page on this] just let me know!

Reviews make my world. :)

The Battle of Vimy Ridge – Matthew's Coming of Age

"Y-you're making m-me fight them?" Matthew stuttered, shocked. He had been resting with several of his men when Arthur had approached him and asked to speak with him privately. Nervously Matthew had followed Arthur to a secluded area away from any of the soldiers. Matthew hadn't really spoken to his father figure before this moment; mostly Arthur spent his time with Matthew's brother Alfred. Of course, Matthew resented being ignored, but at that moment, with Arthur staring into his blue eyes, Matthew wished he could go hide in the shadows.

Arthur had informed him that he and all four of the divisions of the Canadian Corps would be battling against three divisions of the German sixth army for Vimy Ridge.

"B-but didn't you and Francis already attempt…?" Matthew asked nervously. Arthur scowled. Of course the British and French troops had attempted to gain Vimy Ridge. It was a fruitless try, of course, something Arthur did not like to be reminded of.

"Yes but this is different. I want you and your men to fight against Ludwig. He doesn't know of you yet – you have the element of surprise," Arthur answered, flushing slightly, not wanting to admit to his failure in Vimy Ridge. "Some of my men will be backing yours up of course," he quickly added.

Matthew blinked. This was all so sudden… so new for him. Sure, he had participated in battles before but he had never been a central member of one. Matthew was only a few months away from 18. He was a boy – not even a man.

"Why are you making me do this?" he asked quietly. Arthur blinked at him.

"Because I trust you Al-Matthew," Arthur said, turning red at his almost slip-up. Matthew pretended not to notice. He was determined to show Arthur that he was worthy of Arthur's trust.

Matthew glanced around at the men huddled around with him. There was little light in the tent and Matthew could see that the men, all much older than him, were all in thought, trying to figure out a strategy to defeat the German forces.

"I think we should look at the Battle of Verdun for inspiration," a commander, Arthur Currie, one of Matthew's own men stated, breaking the silence.

"What do you mean?" Matthew ventured out. Commander Currie glanced at him briefly.

"I mean we should use several of the techniques the French used," he replied. "Those of us who attended those lectures – what did they say? We can use their victory to our advantage."

And with that, ideas began to spark. Matthew watched in awe as the older men began to contrive a seemingly foolproof, detailed plan. The possibility of such a plan working was still in the air. Matthew hoped that it would.

"It's weird ain't it? You spend most of this damn war fighting with them Punjabs and Aussies and then suddenly you're with your own men! I was talking to a man a while ago and it turns out he married my neighbour's cousin!" a sergeant chattered away to Matthew as they ate their meagre meal. "I used to think of meself as a British man but now – I feel like I'm a Canadian!" he said exuberantly. Matthew paused in his eating to stare at the man.

"You feel l-like a C-Canadian?" Matthew asked quietly. The sergeant nodded.

"It's not just me either – loads of the men have been talking about how they ain't British but Canadian. Must be because we're all together for the first time," the man added, grinning happily. Matthew smiled back and nodded. The man's smile faded. "But you know," he continued quietly, looking around to make sure no one was listening, "I used to think that this war is hopeless and that we're fighting for the British people who wouldn't give a damn if we died in this hell hole. But now… now I think that we're fighting for Canada and that everyone back home wants us to pull through – you know?" he ended, raising his voice again and smiling at Matthew. Matthew nodded, shocked. He had never realized how patriotic his men were to him. Maybe Alfred had a point. Maybe it was time to break away from England… from Arthur…

"Sergeant Williams," a voice said behind him. Matthew stood up immediately and turned around, facing Commander Arthur Currie.

"Yes sir?" Matthew asked nervously.

"Our plan has been approved."

The next few weeks were the most painstakingly slowest Matthew had ever lived through. He and his men studied intently the strategy they were going to impose on the Germans, memorizing, studying maps and mini replicas for hours. There was not a soldier who was not aware of what was going to happen in the next few weeks. Every division was well informed, right down to the lowest sergeant.

Matthew watched as his men studied a map, noting with interest that one was white, and the other black. The fact that they were both Canadian seemed to have united them both despite prior prejudices. It was evident throughout all four divisions of the Canadian Corps – the men were getting stronger just by being with their own men. It was making Matthew stronger as well. He had never felt this strong before. He wondered if that this patriotism was the reason Alfred had defeated Arthur so long ago in the Revolutionary War.

As well detailed the plan was, there were some flaws. Before the plan had been approved, a German-born soldier had joined the German side, telling the enemy all that had been planned so far.

In order to confuse the Germans from their preconceived knowledge of the Allied Force's upcoming attack, it had been decided that they would use their artillery to bombard the Germans to stop them from executing their quickly thought of plan.

April 9th. Matthew would remember the day forever. It was when the battle truly begun.

Matthew moved into his forward assembly position early in the morning. Francis and his troops had asked for them to wait an extra 24 hours before executing their attack. So much for attacking on April 8th.

Snow blew into Matthew's face, biting at his flesh with sharp teeth. Matthew winced but did not move. He should be used to this now, he was Canada after all.

The light bombardment had stopped. Matthew watched from the corner of his eye as the troops began to recalibrate their artillery for the simultaneous attack.

5:30. The sound of every single artillery piece that the Canadian Corps owned began to fire at the enemy line. Matthew and his division began to advance, unaware to the German troops.

Matthew had never seen his men so fierce before. It was being together, representing a single nation together, fighting together and dying together that was making them so powerful. Matthew himself felt almost invincible.

The 1st, 2nd, and 3rd divisions fought bravely as they made their way to each of their objectives. It was reported that the 4th division encountered many problems. Matthew felt some pain as many of them died. But he would have to remain strong. For them. For his people.

For Canada.

It had been a long 3 days. Or was it 4? Matthew wasn't sure. Wounds lined his body as he relentlessly fought on.

He was with the 10th Canadian Brigade, helping them secure the 4th Division's final goal: the "pimple"; the highest point of the ridge.

Matthew could see Ludwig in clear view – although it was evident Ludwig couldn't see him. Matthew fired shots inexorably as soldier after soldier fell. General Winter seemed to be on Matthew's side, as biting cold winds blew into the enemies' faces, causing them pain. There wasn't many German soldiers left to defeat.

Finally Ludwig spotted the young man. His eyes locked onto Matthew's own blue eyes. Matthew stared back at him defiantly, pausing in his shooting. Matthew wondered if the older nation recognized him as one of his own.

"Rückzug!" he heard the older nation shout to the remaining German soldiers. Even with Matthew's limited knowledge of German language even he knew that meant "retreat".

Matthew watched with a sense of triumph as the remaining German soldiers retreated quickly, letting the Canadian troops seize the "pimple". Matthew collapsed on to the ground, exhausted. His people had fought well, but for a horrible price. As Matthew sank into unconsciousness from the pain of loosing so many soldiers, Matthew for the first time ever, felt like a country.

Matthew opened his eyes. It took him a few seconds to realize that he was in a make-shift hospital. Wincing slightly, he glanced over to see that he had a visitor.

His "father" – Arthur was sitting on a chair next to Matthew's bed, fiddling with his uniform awkwardly as he waited for Matthew to wake up.

"A-Arthur?" Matthew asked quietly. Arthur didn't seem to hear him. Matthew was used to it of course and tried again, only louder.

Arthur jumped slightly, blushing as he looked up at the young man. "You're awake," Arthur stated.

"Obviously," Matthew replied, feeling oddly surprised. Him? Being sarcastic to Arthur? Had Alfred somehow possessed his body?

Arthur evidently was surprised by the comment as much as Matthew had been. Composing himself Arthur nodded curtly. "You… you did well," Arthur began but Matthew cut him off.

"Well? That's all you have for me? My men died out there Kirkland – I deserve more than just 'well'!" Matthew fumed at Arthur, sitting up straight and glaring at the older man. Arthur blinked at him, shocked. Where had that come from? What was with Matthew all of a sudden? He was acting like Alfred did before the Revolutionary War… before Alfred had become a country. Was Matthew ready to become a nation as well?

"Err yes. Four of your men are receiving the Victoria Cross," Arthur said, seeming to brace himself in case of another outburst from Matthew.

"Which ones?" Matthew asked curiously, totally unlike the angry Matthew that Arthur had witnessed a few seconds ago. Wondering if Matthew was undergoing some weird sort of PMS, Arthur pulled out a piece of paper.

"Private William Johnstone Milne, Lance-Sergeant Ellis Wellwood Sifton, Private John George Pattison and Captain Thain Wendell MacDowell," Arthur read out. Matthew nodded, lying back down.

"They fought bravely," Matthew murmured. Arthur wasn't sure what to say. He decided to just nod, praying that that would trigger Matthew to start yelling at him again. He wasn't used to Matthew being so… Alfred-like. It was unnerving, considering the fact they looked almost identical. "Arthur?" Matthew said, breaking into a disturbed Arthur's thoughts [who had been thinking of what it'd be like to have two Alfred's in the world]. Arthur blinked.

"Err yes?" Arthur asked.

"This wasn't a very important battle for you to have won was it?"

Arthur wasn't sure how to reply. He didn't want to offend his charge but it was true. The Germans realized it too. Vimy Ridge wasn't as important as some of the other battles. But Arthur didn't have the heart to say it to Matthew, just as he was recovering.

"It wasn't was it?" Matthew persisted, staring into Arthur's green eyes with his surprisingly defiant blue eyes. Arthur nodded, looking away. "I knew it," Matthew murmured.

"You still fought---" Arthur began before he was interrupted again by Matthew.

"It's still important to me," Matthew said, more to himself than to Arthur. He glanced back at Arthur. "You can leave now," he said, surprising himself. It seemed like forever since the day Arthur had approached him, telling him he would be fighting for Vimy Ridge with his men. To think he had been so nervous of his father-figure.

Arthur stared at him, almost fearing another revolution in the midst, stood and left, glancing back at Matthew and wondering where he had gained so much courage from.

Once alone Matthew closed his eyes, smiling to himself. The Battle of Vimy Ridge may not have been important to Arthur or to Francis or even Ludwig himself. But to Matthew it was special.

The battle had finally made him a man.

The End.