1916-2011

NO! I need to find them! I need too! Everything went wrong, oh so wrong! They must be hurt! Hurry, hurry, run, run! You need to find them!

Those were the only words that were going through my mind as I ran across the bloody battlefield. I paid no mind to the bodies of my parents' people. Not even a glance to my own wounded men, withering in pain, calling for help with their dying breaths. I didn't flinch at the shelling and bombing that was going on around me, making huge craters in the earth and destroying everything in its path. The thundering sound of machine guns whirling was nothing more than a dull buzz in the back of my mind.

All that I cared for was to find Oliver and Jean- Ontario and Quebec- my two kids, my two provinces. Oliver was excited about the war, saying all he wanted was to be beside me as we sent the Germans back to Germany. I didn't want him to join, he was going to get hurt, but he just signed up anyway. And even though Jean didn't say anything about why he went off to war, I knew he joined to make sure Oliver didn't kill himself. My other kids stayed at home, worked in the factories that made weapons, worked on the farm to make food, managed the ports so the boats could send off the food and weapons, or went off and joined the nurses or field doctors, again working behind the scenes of battle.

Except for Manitoba, he was angry that his older brothers joined and he couldn't. So he lied about his age, ran off to England and joined the Air Force they had there. I didn't find this out until a few days ago when Saskatchewan sent me a letter saying that Manitoba was successfully on his way to become a great 'Flying Ace.' I think I cried that night, or almost did. Being in the Air Force was much, much more dangerous than being a foot soldier. The average life span for them was about one week, and then they were most likely shot down. Manitoba didn't stand a chance.

Something grabbed my ankle and I was pulled into a crater left by some shelling. A soft gasp escaped my lips as I hit the hard, bloody ground. A thunderous explosion went off, shaking the ground and blinding me, right where I was just standing.

"Are you ok, Mr. Canada?" The shaky voice made me turn my head away from where I almost died. There were my young neighbours, Newfoundland and Labrador. The young man looked pale and scared, but his eyes were hard and determined. His canine companion was thin and scraggly but there was a fierce look to him. I knew that it was people like them that were going to win this war. "You're bleeding! Here, let me-"

I reached over and grasped his shoulders, cutting him off. I have worst things to worry about then myself at the moment. "My kids, have you seen them? Ontario and Quebec, they're out here somewhere, and I need to find them! Please, tell me you've seen them!" I could hear the desperation in my voice, but didn't care.

His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, "I saw them running over there," He nodded his head towards the left, "They were fine, but Mr. Canada, you need to get your shoulder patched up! It looks-" I didn't bother listening any more. I scrambled out of the crater and sprinted in the direction he pointed too. His yells for me to come back faded into the background like everything else.

My legs pushed harder, sprinting faster. I was close to finding them, Newfoundland said they were fine.

But not for long if they didn't get out of here.

It seemed like hours, but I finally saw them through the smoke and haze. It looked like they were arguing, again. I called out to them, weaving through bodies and bullets. They didn't notice me; my voice must have been too quite.

I ran towards them, but I saw something that froze my heart. The soldiers behind them were dropping like flies, the sound of machine guns got louder. Quebec seemed to notice this, because he cut Ontario off by dragging him closer to a large shelling crater. He gave Oliver a shove and the blonde fell out of view, but I could see his shocked expression before he vanished.

But time ran out, the wall of bullets was upon them. Just before the bullets hit Quebec, I lunged. I wrapped my arms around him- protecting his head as we fell- my body on top of him, acting like a shield.

Pain lashed through me. Poor pain then the Burning of York. But I couldn't scream, all I could see were Quebec's eyes- Jean's eyes, filled with fear and horror, I needed to be brave for him. I tried to tell him not to worry, that I'll be fine, but all that came out of my mouth was blood and a strange, wet gurgling sound.
That's when Quebec started to scream. My name filled my ears. The tone was full of fear and hysteric. "Père! Père! S'il vous plaît ne fermez pas vos yeux! S'il vous plaît!"

I don't know when it happened, but everything went dark.
_______

"Père! Wake up now, or else I'm not to blame for what happens next." The voice sounded annoyed, but I could hear the joy hidden underneath it.

I gave a half hearted grunt in response and rolled over, burying my face in the soft warmth that surrounded me. I didn't want to get up yet, the bed felt too warm.

"Fine," the voice gave an annoyed grunt. "Avoir votre manière." There was a moment of silence before something heavy was suddenly placed on my chest, knocking all the air out of my lungs.
My eyes flashed open. Two little kids and a golden puppy covered my line of sight.
"It's about time you got up, Dad! You slept the whole morning away!" The little girl, Nunavut, huffed.

I blinked, "Was I supposed to do something important today?" There must have been something important if Nunavut, Newfoundland and his little doggy companion, and Quebec were all here. Looking over to the French province for an expiation, my eyes widen as I saw all of my provinces and territories were here, all smiling and happy. Even Manitoba's scowl looked happy.

Ontario laughed. "Now that's sad. Even you're forgetting your own birthday now!" he shook his head in mock disbelief. "Now that's sad."

Quebec growled and gave him a shove, "Shut your trap."
The blonde bristled, "Don't touch me, you stupid Frenchie!" He shoved Jean right back, making him bump into Alberta. Sweet Maple, it's too early for this.

Coming to his brother's rescue, Saskatchewan wrapped his arms around Oliver and Jean's shoulders. "Now, now boys. Save it for later. Nova, if you please, let's start this before these two destroy everything.

With a flourish, Nova Scotia pulled his fiddle out and started playing a jolly tune.

Everybody a burst into a semi-harmonised version of "Happy Birthday," or "Bonne Fête" as Quebec so stubbornly sang.

When the song was over, Nunavut and Newfoundland hugged me tightly. "Happy Birthday, Canada!"