The Big Breakout

March 21, 2012
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A smile snuck its way onto Archer’s face as he surveyed the field. The plan was going pretty well, all things considered. The prisoners were escaping and the guards were almost no match for them. He had done well leading the uprising.

All around him the German soldiers were falling. Archer noticed that Legion was doing quite well in beating down the guards, most were either dead or incapacitated. Nothing was going to stop them from escaping this hellhole.

That’s when Archer noticed a German guard about twenty-feet away trying to crawl into a hiding spot. Archer began to walk towards him, he wasn’t in a hurry. When he finally reached the guard, he noticed how scared he looked.
Damn right he should be scared, Archer thought.
The man’s nametag said he was Bray, an officer by the looks of it. He was probably just some underling that kissed his boss’s as* whenever he got a chance. Still, something seemed different about this man, as if he almost didn’t want to be at the POW camp in the first place. This troubled Archer. They couldn’t risk leaving anyone alive, and yet he felt that the man deserved to be spared. Nothing in this war seemed easy to anyone, least of all Archer.
Archer wasn’t actually a soldier or anything, just a common man. What he lacked in brute strength, he made up for with wits and determination. It was no wonder they chose him to lead the uprising.
This non-military attitude is what made things hard for him. He didn’t have the discipline required to kill every enemy in site, but rather Archer tended to see the good in a man and have a hard time hurting him. As Archer pondered things over in his head, he stepped over the officer. He crouched down enough to be face to face with the man.
“Just kill me already, American basturd,” Brey struggled to say. His English was a bit broken, but that’s to be expected from a low ranking officer of an enemy army.
“Why should I?” Archer asked him. “You don’t seem to be the kind of man who enjoyed his job here.”
“Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t kill you if I were given the chance,” Brey responded.
This lack of will troubled Archer even more. The man was asking to be killed, yet Archer couldn’t do it.
“No, better you live with the knowledge of what happened here. Tell you leaders that this is our country and we’re taking it back. We cannot and will not be stopped by anyone or anything. Go tell them to go to Hell; we’ll buy them dinner when we meet each other there.”
Brey was furious at this point. He began to shout curse words in German. Archer had picked up enough of the language in his two years at the camp. He was sworn at practically every day.
If this goes on any longer, I may just change my mind and kill him…
Archer smacked the German in the forehead with his gun, hard enough to be knocked out, but not enough to kill the man or do any serious damage.
It was time to move out anyway. Archer didn’t want him or his men getting too comfortable at an empty prison, the Germans would most likely be sending reinforcements this very minute. Best not to be around when they get here.
“Everyone, move out!” Archer shouted across the camp. He was lucky enough to have a loud voice.
Archer didn’t want to be here any longer, too many bad memories for his taste.

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