I finally arrive at the train deport in the city of Paris. Platform 21 and 2/3 was where I reach to my regiment. I found this odd since I didn't know there was a number between 21 and 22. There I met him. A man whose skin was dark as night being attack by my fellow Frenchmen. 

He doesn't look German and I'm pretty sure he was not our enemy. Fruits were thrown at him but the dark man put up a good fight. His muscular tone body tells me he was a hard worker. I should hire him to help with the farm as soon a the war ends. 

I tried to save him but I was blocked by the surrounded men. There was no way to get through. I must act quickly before anything gets to the worst. Luckily, the train was right beside them and it so happen the steam was unintended. A little hot air should remove half the fighters.

However, the fight wasn't over. There were three more men left. I quickly ran to the other side but only to be stopped by another man in uniform. Maybe a little wine might persuade him. Unfortunately, he would't touch the reds as he wasn't too much of a fan of it. Lucky for me someone left a bottle of white wine on the crate. 

Ok. Ok. Someone else was drinking it. But I'm sure he doesn't mind if I take it.

The man was please with my selection as he drank the entire bottle in one sitting. As I walk along the train, yet another man stopped me from climbing on it. I can tell he was bored with his duty. We talked for a bit and he told me the place with sound more lively if there some music. The band was nearby and they needed help with their instruments.

They have no rhythm. I shows them a few off my skills. The drummer starts the beat. Next went the tuba. The bugle player followed and finally ended with the trumpet.

The man I talk to earlier went to see what was the commotion is all about. As he tapped the foot to the beat of the band, I sneak behind him to climb up the train's steps to the roof. Wait a surprise, I found a metal nib. This would be very useful to write my letters to Emily. 

I walk across over the roof of the train. Over the coals and into the engine room. The conductor was no where to be found. This was my chance. I pull the chord as let out more steam. The rest of the men who fighting against the dark tone one ran off like the cowards they are. 

Fredrick was the man name. He was an American fighting in the war. I knew he and I would make good friends someday. I can feel it in hi strong grip. This....this was a grip of a true warrior.