///On the trip to America, Morai was noticed to be somewhat anxious and withdrawn, keeping within groups, but never giving much notice. As of yet, no one has bothered to find out why, nor does anyone particularly care. Indeed, it is a minor thing, and even a moderate liability-Morai has broken more than a nose in response to a younger agent’s questioning. It can be assumed then, that Morai was sent under more complex a situation than he ever let on, though I’ve always imagined it was a family curse or some such thing.
///On the new continent, ‘Brennan’ was found ordinary enough to remain unchanged. It must’ve been a rough transition, but I doubt he ever admitted that to anyone -he was where he wanted to be, and probably forced himself to enjoy it. It was an exciting time, and perhaps this is what forced our young man’s agitation.
///The war hadn’t yet developed, but few really doubted it would come. No, that’s not right. There were still hopes for a peaceful secession; a quiet split into two countries. Then-president Lincoln -best known for being “born in a log cabin ‘he made himself” and training himself as a lawyer, aside from his accomplishments as national leader- refused to see a split in the union, and so invaded. I can’t say if that was right, since it only worsened the problem of slavery -the cause, besides simple independence, that the secessionists fought for- for centuries. It seems that he was regarded as a hero for as long as his union remained, his reputation flickering slightly based on the party in power.
///The war hadn’t begun, for a year or so, and Morai travelled the small country. It’s hard to say what he did during this time, his checking account being the one sure indication, that, sadly, was scarcely used. I assume he stayed more toward the countryside than anything, because he seemed to understand the land he later fought in. Someday, maybe, someone will care enough to find out. Maybe… If I ever find the money?
///Ад предательская мысль. Я думаю, мне нужно убедиться, что никто не считает, что это. Эй, если вы читаете эту статью, вы можете просто сжечь ее, что ли? Может быть, бросить его в океан, или, может быть черная дыра. Blackhole было бы хорошо. Не так, как вы можете прочитать любом случае …
///Да … Я просто вырвать эту страницу позже. Сделай это еще раз позже.
///Morai magically reappeared a few months into the war. It was either providence or calculation that brought him into the Union army, but he has always taken credit for the choice. He said that, in addition to some sore of ancestral will, (this is why I think superstition sent him across the sea) he simply wanted to. A new country was being born, he said, and he wanted to be there as it happened. Glory and women must have been high on the list as well, but it was rude to point out at the time. From what I’ve heard, he performed admirably in all respects listed.
///On an execution mission, one of our guys had a close call, courtesy of our favorite Irishman. Adrian -I met him a few times, seemed like a good guy, and knew the best coffee in town- didn’t have to bother guffing his way into a military unit. He simply pulled a Confederate uniform, and waited on a steep hill, waiting to ambush some unimportant bastard below.
///Always made me think, that. If it’s flattering to have someone want to kill you, that really has to be an honor of a lifetime for for someone as insignificant as a bachelor soldier. It’s also pretty damn sick. It’s not like we’re murderers, but I always had to take some time alone before one of those missions.
///Well, Adrian was waiting there, enjoying the sort of view that wants to be shared. He had his overhauled rifle with him, that’s important. In front of him, the hill lowers steeply, and is pretty rocky besides, so trees only grow in a few spots. It faced out West, so the view -and I’ve been told that, even in a forest as thick as this one, someone could see for a dozen miles from up there- must’ve been spectacular during the sunset he spent waiting. The other side of the hill rises gently, so, except for a few rough spots, it’s covered in oak, birch, and ash trees, with a single cherry tree bordering a small clearing. It was a very useful and easy to find hill. It seems that Morai had been there.
///He probably came to survey the area ahead of his unit. Odd considering his position. I imagine was looking about the area, turned back, then noticed Adrian a couple yards to his side. This went unnoticed by the overconfident sniper, who was alone, since it was such a low risk job.
///The way he put it, the first thing noticed was a shadow. Morai already had his pistol loaded, and was now pointing it at Adrian. Luckily, they both froze up. A minute or two went by, and their heads are running on a mixture of silence, emptiness, and funk metal. Morai told him to stay still. Told him that he wasn’t planning to shoot him, as a favor to the both of them. Ordered him to surrender the weapon, it’d go on a mantle back home, and you can go home too.
///Adrian says, and I’m pretty sure this is bullshit, that he was still hoping for a successful mission -plus, he’d be chewed out for losing the gun- so he got ready for a fight. As he was reaching for his knife, a salvo went off, a mile off and within sight. Morai got spooked, grabbed the rifle, and ran back down the hill.
///Morai had a similar story, but with a few details that honored him. Last time we met, Adrian told me the story, he coughed enough to make me worry when I pointed out all the little inconsistencies. If someone catches a shark, if he was the only one there, and if he comes back hands smooth and empty, he didn’t even catch a carp.
///I’m told that they later made up, and that the rifle was treated as a gift. I’m also told that Morai stands a half-head taller than Adrian, which would seem to set the tone for any of their dealings.