Quibblo Hunger Games 2013: The 13th Regiment
The reality of war is too much for some men. Sometimes even a whole regiment. The men of regiment 13 abandon their post in Australia, after they wittness a massacre of their men. However, they know too much, and the government can't let their secrets escape this area.
They attacked us while we were sleeping in our camp near Bunbury, Western Australia. It was the year 2504, and War World Three broke out. Australia declared war on the English Isles, trying to break free from their Monarchy. We sided with Australia and joined the war against British Ireland, France, Germany, and Portagolain.
Some countries have changed a lot in the last five hundred years. Ireland invaded New England and became British Ireland and Portugal invaded Spain forming the new country of Portagolian. Italy and Greece became one giant country along with Albania, Montenegro, Croatia, Bosnia, Kosovo and Slovenia. They are known as Balkainia, after the Balkan Mountains that are near them . The final big change from five hundred years ago is that Sweden, Finland and Norway became one country known as Scandinavia.
The Liberaters, which consists of Canada, United States, Australia, Mexico, and Balkainia are the countries fighting to break Australia free from the persurvers which is Germany, British Ireland, France, Poland, Austria, Luxembourg, Portagolain, and Scandinavia.
Back to the present. I am part of the Men's thirteenth American regiment. We were ambushed by the new superpower of the world, Balkania. The U.S. were the superpowers until Balkania became a country.
They came in and set fire to our tents and bombed our camp. I heard a man coming from above the trench. I grabbed his foot and flipped him over onto his back.
I looked out from the trench. A wall of green and yellow wall of cloth was coming at as. They were charging. I shot out of my spot and ran, staying was plain suicide. "Run," I shouted. "The Balkan are coming." The few of us that remained ran into the Outback.
Bushbabbies popped out of the trees. As I ran, I watched men that I have worked with for three year get gunned down. We weren't ready, and I was terrified. Abandoning your camp is punishable by death.
We have too much information. We were in charge of keeping our intelligence. I don't know why they trusted a regiment with the number 13, but they did. It is an old army superstition that the 13th regiment will have the worst luck in war.
I ran to the small cliff near our camp. It was a hundred foot drop. I was met by about thirty of my remaining men. The wall of green and yellow was still coming at us.
We had two choices. To stay put or to jump. If I am going to die, then it is going to be on my own terms and not on a Balkans ability to shove a knife in my head. So I jumped, and my mates had the same idea.