We, or more accurately I, finished off the rest of the German soldiers in the building quickly. It was a mere ten minutes before Jefferson, Reeds, and I were regrouped with the newly repaired tank and the rest of the men. The other group, consisting of Green, Stiles, and Rikers, that Captain Oswald had sent out had already arrived before us, that building had apparently been empty.

“You three look like you got chewed up and spit out of the back end! What happened?” The captain shouted as we approached the tank.

“We won, that’s what happened.” Reeds yelled back proudly. The tank started back up with a roar and a growl, followed by a one of the tank crew shouting out to us that they were ready to go.

“Positions everyone!” Captain Oswald ordered and we went back to our mission. After another three hours of searching the town, we met up with one Major Blanchet. He ordered our group and several others to flank the German troops via a northern route. I looked around at the men I was marching with and noticed they looked rather ragtag and beaten up after such a long, and stressful day. Some were limping and covered in bruises, others were bleeding, which made me hungry, so I steered clear of them, but mostly the men just seemed overwhelmed and tired. I broke formation to talk to the captain.

I jogged up to him, and he said, “You’re out of line private.”

“Apologies Sir, but I believe the men need a break.” I told him.

“Our orders are to flank the Germans, not have a spa day. Now get back in formation.” He snapped and continued his marching.

“I’m not asking for myself sir, I’m asking for them.” The captain looked over his shoulder at the exhausted troop, some barely trudging along, others stumbled as they walked. “They just got out of a firefight and none of them have eaten. They need a break sir.” I explained. He grumbled and reluctantly agreed.

“Soldiers! Take five! Eat and rest!” He hollered. His shout was met with resounding sighs of relief as one by one the men sat and began eating rations that they had. The rations weren’t much more than bread and salted meat, but it was like mana from heaven for their tired bones and empty stomachs. I don’t have to eat, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy good food. Too bad there was none around.

I was sitting on the folded-out bed of one of the jeeps, when Reeds walked up with a bowl of vegetable stew. “Were did you get that?” I asked.

“One of the guys was a cook before he was put out here. He found a box of stuff and made do.” He took a bite.

“How is it?” I asked.

“Better than nothing…. But not by much.” He said but kept eating.

“His cooking skills may be the reason he is out here now and not in a kitchen.” I said as I ate my ration.

“Not much even an award-winning chef could do with the stuff we have in camp.” Reeds said.

“How long do you think we have until the captain or the sarge decides to make us walk again?” I overheard one of the men say.

“Hopefully a while, I’m beat.” His friend replied. He ended up being right; the captain didn’t make us pack up until the next day. We woke up the next morning and were marching before even the sun was awake. I stayed up on watch all night again, and because of that the sarge let me sleep in the back of his car. I didn’t actually need to sleep, but it was nice to get out of the sun. I have had to keep wrappings around the exposed parts of my body, and a hood over my head, the whole time we have been fighting and marching. So, being in the shade was refreshing. Even through all those layers, I can still feel the effects of the sun. I was just glad I haven’t been in any situations where I lost my coverings in direct sunlight.

I spent three hours in the back of the jeep “sleeping”, really just recovering from the sun. Outside, I began to hear people shouting orders and giving commands. I flipped my hood up and peaked out to see that the squad appeared to be digging in for battle. I covered back up and stepped outside. It was about noon, so the sun was overhead. There weren’t that many shadows for me to stay in, so I was grateful for these wrappings.

“The mummy has arisen from his tomb.” I heard Jefferson say to Reeds from the trench they were digging. I assumed he was talking about my wrapping, which I had around my arms as always. The two were about fifty feet away, meaning I had to pretend I couldn’t hear them.

“Why do you think he dresses like that? Is he cold?” Reeds said.

“Can’t be, it’s almost twenty-five degrees Celsius out here.” Jefferson replied.

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“Maybe he has a skin condition. I heard about this guy who was allergic to the sun, but I think something like that would be pretty rare.” Reeds wondered.

“I doubt it’s that. But you know what I heard one of the guys, Wallace I think, say? That sometimes Night-walker goes off into the woods while he is on watch.” Jefferson said. That caught me off guard. I wasn’t aware anyone had seen my nightly escapades for food.

“Night-Walker, you’re out of bed already?” A voice from behind me said; it was Captain Oswald.

“Yes sir, ready to get back to work.” I replied.

“Good man, go help dig trenches, we are bunkering down here. The Germans don’t cross this line.” He explained and right before he walked off, he turned back and said, “Oh and keep an eye out to our flank. We are expecting another platoon to meet up with us for resupply and reinforcements.”

“Yes sir.” I said. I hopped into a trench with privates Stiles and Green and began shoveling dirt. We worked for hours, even for me this was going to take a very long time. Five hours later, we got word that the new platoon had arrived and that everyone needed to get checked out by the medics.

“Alright Lads, get out of the mud and go get your shots.” Captain Oswald ordered. We crawled out and headed to the medical tent. Just as I was about to pull the canvas and walk in, I was called by Reeds for help moving some boxes of ammo.

“Hey, Night-Walker, can you give me a hand?” He shouted from the stack of crates that the new platoon had brought with them.

“Sure,” I replied and went to help.

“We’re gunna head on in.” Green said and he and Stiles went in. I spent a few minutes helping Reeds unload boxes and stack them in the trenches.

“Thanks, sorry to keep you.” Reeds said as we finished up.

“You’re welcome.” I said and walked to the Med tent. I passed Stiles and Green on their way out.

“Hope you aren’t scared of needles.” Stiles joked. They went back to the trench to resume digging and I headed to the tent. I could hear a single set of footsteps from inside, and assumed it was the medic.

I pulled back the canvas and announced as I walked in, “Private Alucard, reporting.”

“Yes good, take a seat." He replied. I walked over to a cot and sat down. I couldn’t help but think about what constituted medicine when I was younger and what it had become in recent years. Science, medicine, society, everything was so advanced now. The doctor finished what he was doing and walked over to me. “Okay private Alucard, what brings you by?” He asked.

“I was told to come get some shots, sir.” I explained.

“Ah yes, we are vaccinating for Typhus. Everyone is getting one today. You’re my thirty second person to come in for that.” He said. He walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a needle and a small vile filled with a clear liquid. Putting both on a silver try beside me, he then grabbed a small towel and bottle of rubbing alcohol. He tilted the bottle and poured some onto the cloth, then rubbed my shoulder with it. He exchanged them for the needle and vile, filled up the needle, gave it a tap and a squirt, then said, “This might pinch.”

“So, this will prevent people from contracting Typhus?” I asked amazed.

“Mostly yes, it’s not one-hundred percent effective, but this will save countless lives.”

I marveled, “Such a wondrous age to live in.”

“Ah yes, medicine has advanced a fair amount in the last few decades. War is a great way to advance medical knowledge. It’s terrible but true.” The doctor said as he threw away the needle. “Anyway, if there is nothing else you need, then you are all done.” I thanked the doctor and left to resume digging in the trenches.

The rest of the troops and I finished our digging two hours before nightfall, and most went straight to their cots to sleep. I attempted to volunteer for a night watch, but Captain Oswald refused on the grounds that I needed rest. I couldn’t exactly protest without anyone wondering how and why I was able to keep going. So, instead I went to my own cot in the barracks. I had found ways of passing the time, from writing stories to repairing clothes for the men. They were happy to let me sew up their torn things in exchange for different goods. Today I was sewing up a hole in the knee of private Green’s trousers, in exchange he paid me with chocolate. I have no idea where he got it, but it was divine. I was sat on the edge of my cot, which was lined up in a row of a dozen other cots belonging to the rest of the men.

Reeds, Jefferson, Green, and Stiles were on theirs playing a game of cards when Stiles asked, “Hey Alucard, how did you learn to sow?”

I looked over and told him, “I learned from a little old woman in Italy, about a decade ago.”

“Italy? What were you doing there?” Reeds wondered.

“I was there on some personal business with a man named Pablo.”

“How long did you stay?” Jefferson asked without looking up from his cards.

“A while, maybe eight months, I left once I was through working. After that I moved to London and worked as an assistant to a banker.” I said.

“Wait a second,” Green interrupted, “if that were a decade ago, you would have been pretty young. What was a child doing traveling Italy on business?”

“Oh… I worked for a company as an assistant to Pablo. So, when he traveled, I would go with him.” I lied.

“What about your parents?” Stiles asked.

“They… died. A long time ago. When I was very young.” I explained.

“Oh, sorry if that’s a sore subject.” Stiles apologized.

“It’s fine. It was a very long time ago.” I said and went back to stitching.

“How old are you Vlad?” Green questioned. I tried to picture myself. I looked down at my hands and they seemed young, not wrinkled or frail. I had eaten well, so that meant I looked like my original self.

How old was I when I died and became this? I thought to myself. “Twenty-five,” I said thinking back to my early life. I was born in the late 790’s, and was transformed sometime in the 820’s, and I was born in the summer. So, twenty-five seemed about right.

“Really? You seem younger.” Jefferson said surprised.

“How so?” I asked.

“Your face looks young. Maybe you should grow a beard to age yourself up a bit.” He explained. With a loud and sudden *Kathoom* the ground was shaken and our activities halted. I heard distant gunfire and yells.

A man rushed into our tent, covered in mud and bleeding from the head, yelling, “Get to your positions!” We all grabbed our rifles and Green threw on the trousers I had just finished for him, then ran to cover… and to our battle positions.