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The war started by such a simple mistake. A soldier, probably a private, accidently shot an Ishbalan child. No body knows if he ment it or not, but one thing is for certain...

It started the worst war Amestris has ever seen...

Every battle, the sky is bloodstained, along with the ground. Soldiers and innocents are lost every day. No one can sleep soundly. This is how the story starts.

((2 hours later))

I am simply a low ranked sniper just out of Basic Training. I was thrust into the war immediately, the higher ups hungry for fresh soldiers, especially those with skills like mine. I am currently of the best sharpshooters of the Amestris Military...

I belong to the Night Fire 3rd Division... we have one state alchemist, Major Roy Mustang, one sniper, myself, and the rest are just infantrymen. This was our first battle...


We traveled south, to a city known for its rebellion force. A platoon was sent in earlier, but they never reported back, and so we were called in to not only find out what happened to them, but to finish their job. Three of us were sent in to sweep and make sure none of the rebels recieved our division's truck. It was Major Mustang, Private Schwartz, and myself. Major and I had known each other since the trip down here, but I'd only seen Schwartz in the Mess tent mostly.

"I want to go home," Schwartz mumbled suddenly. Mustang smacked him over the head.

"You idiot," he whispered harshly, "We have no idea where these rebels are... they could be over the next dune and hear us! You'll get us killed!" I rolled my eyes and watched the major as he grumbled something incoherent and then clenched his jaw. I had a feeling that Mustang's fear would be fact, and that Schwartz's mouth would get us into trouble.

Roy stopped before the next sand dune and held out his arms to stop us as well. I noticed before I ran into his arm, but the private wasn't so quick and sounded a quiet 'Oof' before he stepped back and looked at him. Mustang lifted his nose and sniffed the air. "Do you smell that?" he asked quietly.

I too sniffed the air, as did Schwartz who only looked confused after. "Smoke," I answered. Roy looked side to side suspiciously and nodded.

"But I smell burning rubber and flesh..." he frowned suddenly, "I think I know what happened to the squad before us..." A thoughtful look appeared on his face and he said, "Hawkeye, on the dune with me, Schwartz, you stay here..."

He dropped to his knees as I slung my rifle over my shoulder and followed suit. "Yes, sir," Schwartz and I answered simultaniously. As the major and I neared the top, we were on our bellies. He motioned for me to peak over the top and look through the scope and I did so with my other eye closed. Smoke trailed high into the clouds from what I assumed to be a truck or a jeep of some sort. I looked left, right, down, and passed a black dot. I found it again, and saw that it was a soldier... he must have been thrown from the truck when it exploded. From this distance, I could not tell if he was alive. I scanned the dunes in the distance some more and concluded that the rebels that attacked this team had drawn back. I climbed to my feet and looked at Roy, who seemed so small when he was on his stomach. "Clear, sir," I told him.

"About damn time," yelled Schwartz as he came up the dune. Roy stood and popped the scope off of my rifle to look through it.

"As I suspected," he said as he put it in my hand. "They were attacked. The rebels must have cleared out."

I slid the scope back in place. "Yes, sir... but there is a man down there... I think we should go see if he is a survivor..."

Roy nodded and waved a gloved hand for us to follow, which we did.

I reached the man first and, with the help of the major, lifted the heavy metal piece off of him. It was so burned and scratched that I had no clue what part of the truck it came from.

The man's chest rose and fell with light breaths. I got on my knees, leaned my head down to his mouth and listened just to make sure that the desert heat wasn't playing tricks on my eyes. He was indeed breathing. I looked at Roy. "He's alive, sir..."

"Alright," he said as he knelt down to examine his wounds. I didn't know where Schwartz was... and I really didn't care...

"Can you hear me, soldier?" I asked him while I ripped and peeled back the uniform from his badly burned and ripped skin, glancing at his face a few times check for a response. When I recieved none, I continued, "I am Private Hawkeye from the Amestris Military... nod if you can hear me."

".....bad..... I......" the soldier mumbled. He was alive... that was good.

"You're going to be fine," I told him. "We're going to take you back to our camp... to be treated." The only problem was... how do we get him there...? I took his hand in one of my own to emphasize my words. "Understand?"

Out of the corner of my eye, the major gave me an odd look... as if saying 'I didn't order that...'

"Angel...Name.... is... Angel...." he murmured quietly in a broken, painful sentence. He passed out quickly after.

"Major, he's out..." I said as I looked at him.

"Dead?" he asked. I shook my head.

"No, sir... but he will be if we don't get him to the medic soon..."

"Schwartz!" he called looking around. Schwartz jogged up with singed eyebrows and held out 7 burnt blood-covered dog tags with his hand covered by his shirt.

"Sorry, sir... I wanted to get these for him..."

((I'll be back in a little bit))

"Why didn't I die with them?! "

I pushed aside the flap of the medical tent and looked at him with curiosity. Did he know he just said that aloud? "Because you weren't supposed to," I answered him.

The major walked in behind me and tried to keep a smile on his face.

I sat on his cot. "Angel, was it?" I asked him, taking the tags and handing them to Mustang behind me.