Author's Note- Hey, welcome to the post. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Enjoy…

Disclaimer-Don't happen to own Hetalia, if I did there would be a whole lot more Canada in it.

Chapter 10- Island Hopping

September 1st, 1942- Adak Island, Aleutian Island, Territory of Alaska

The long chain of islands which stretched across the top of the Pacific Ocean went by many names. The poetic came up with names like Russia's Stepping Stones or the Cradle of Storms. Many of the soldiers coming from the States tended call the place Hell. The U.S. Government decided to call them the Aleutians after the people who lived there.

It turned out that the people who spent their whole lives living and fishing the waters off this volcanic arc had a different way of understanding their home. They divided five island groups. The two farthest out Sasignan Tanangin and Qaxum Tanangis (or Near and Rat Islands as the Americans insisted on calling them) were known to be occupied by the Japanese. After the evacuations of the Aleuts three months previous, the only American strong hold in the Aleutians was the Port of Dutch Harbor on Unalaska Island in the Fox Island Group. That left two island chains, the Uniigun and Niigugin Tanangis (or Islands of Four Mountains and Andreanof Islands) in limbo.

Only a few days earlier the United States military had sent a specialized unit, loving known as Castner's Cutthroats, to determine if the Japanese had extended their reach into the Andreanof Islands. After crawling around the largest island, Adak, for two days it was determined to be free of the enemy. An occupying force of 4,500 men was sent ashore and the Cutthroats were then given the mission of setting up a forward staging area for military operations to retake Attu and Kiska.

While the mission seemed straight forward, it was complicated by the fact that most people had no clue what they were doing. The problem was the Aleutian Islands were so removed from the rest of the world, that it was often difficult for outsiders to understand the scope of the problems. For instance, few outsiders realized it was not uncommon to feel at least one earthquake on a daily basis or that all of the islands were volcanic crags sticking out of the ocean with almost no flat areas available.

"Why are we building an airstrip here and not on one of the other islands?" Trapper Nick asked peaking over her shoulder.

"Because the Brass said so." Alaska commented sourly as she added the last few details from their recent mapping project.

"Which means that practicality just got thrown out the window." Water Bucket Tom, groaned theatrically.

"Okay, there has to be a solution to this problem. It might involve back breaking work, it might involve massive amounts of dynamite, but we are going to find it." Aleut Pete tried to focus everyone back on the task at hand. The rugged group of tired, shaggy looking men bent over the map trying to determine a possible vector for attack.

"Well there are a couple bays…"

September 6th, 1942- TSS Queen Mary II, Halfway across the Atlantic Ocean

Canada pulled the blanket a little higher over his legs before turning the well worn page. His eyes scanned halfway down the page before he gave up and put the book down. When Canada had left for North America, England had insisted that he would get bored on the ship. There were rations on paper restricting the printing of new books, so England had pulled one of his favorites from his library. Unfortunately, Canada had a little bit different tastes than his former colonial master. It wasn't that he didn't like Shakespeare, but Macbeth was probably not the best play to give to a colony currently suffering from nightmares from a failed military operation.

It was those nightmares which had given Canada an excuse to leave the military front, and in England's words, recuperate from the stresses of war. While recuperation did sound pleasant, it wasn't the reason that Canada heading home. No, he was going back to North America in order to join a joint Canadian-American special military unit. A unit which would not only get Canada back to the German front, but also behind enemy lines where his sniping could cripple the enemy's army. Canada felt a bit guilty leaving England without telling him this, but what the older nation didn't know couldn't hurt him.

Sighing, Canada reached into a side pocket of his suitcase and pulled out one of the comic books which America had insisted on sending him. It was hero called Captain America…

September 10th, 1942- Airstrip, Adak Island, Aleutian Island Chain, Territory of Alaska

The strong Aleutian winds was kind of making it hard to tell if the rain actually reaching the ground. At the moment it seemed that rain moving horizontally. Regardless of whether or not the muddy tundra was getting more saturated, Alaska was very glad that she some sort of dry shelter to escape to, even if it was a tent shared with a five man engineering detachment.

After shaking out her oiled leather overcoat and hanging it out to dry on one of the roof pools, Alaska stretched and took a few moments to consider what activity should feel the rest of her afternoon. Technically she should probably make up another map before dinner, but while had the tent to herself she might as well write a few letters to the nations in her life. Activity decided, Alaska took out a few sheets of thick cotton paper she carried practically everywhere and spread them out on the rough table constructed from a pair of metal wheat buckets and a wooden plank that someone had scrounged up from the evacuated village. She perched herself on one of the empty crates that were already accumulating around camp and began to write.

Dear Logan,

As you know I have recently joined the 1st Alaskan Combat Intelligence Platoon which is affectionately known as the Castner's Cutthroats due to our often unkempt appearance. We are an irregular military unit, tasked with mapping the Aleutian Islands in the preparation for future American offensive attacks on the Japanese forces now occupying an unknown number of Alaskan Islands.

Alaska scrawled at the top of the first sheet and then paused, pen to her lips, trying to the past week's work into coherent letter. So much progress had been made in the last few days. Ten days ago, there had not been a spot on the island flat enough to land a bush plane, let alone put in a fully functioning military air strip. But now a rough runway had allowed the first scout planes to take up residence on the island.

Last week, we were sent on a particularly challenging mission. The U.S. Government wants a forward airbase from which they can spy and bomb the Japanese held islands. By looking at a map they determined that the large island of Adak would be the best spot and sent us to make sure that island was not under Japanese control. It wasn't. As far as anyone could tell one had been on the island since the native population had been evacuated and Japanese haven't gotten this far east yet. Unfortunately the second aspect of mission wasn't nearly as simple to complete.

When that stupid bureaucrat pointed to Adak on the map and said that the airfield would go there, I really wished they would have bothered to look at the topography map. I doubt that there a naturally flat place on the island that is large enough to put a hanger, let alone a full function airstrip. To make things worth the entire Aleutian Island chain is made up of volcanic islands and these islands are made up of igneous rock.

Alaska smiled as she put wrote the last part. The Yukon Territory had never taken to flight the way that she had, but he did have an incredible fondness for rocks. He had developed that fondness into a very successful prospecting career during the gold rush years, and even today he found enough precious metals in his claims to keep him living comfortable. Yes, if he didn't have interest in the politics of this airstrip he would be fascinated by the geology and geography of it.

While the Brass gave us a far amount of dynamite and offered use of tractors as it was needed, there is simply no way to clear a straight place for planes to land on that island, especially in the amount of time they were giving us to do it. Luckily we have a lot of people with mining experience in the group as well as a number of bays on the island. We surveyed the bays and found one to be particularly shallow. After draining, filling, and leveling the bottom we now have a very serviceable runway.

Hope that everything is going well for you and that bureaucrats are less of a pain in the butt on your current construction project.

Sincerely,

Samantha

Alaska scanned the letter, folded it, and nearly tucked it into the envelope. Then at the last moment she thought better. Pulling out her pen she started on a postscript.

September 24, 1942- 61 km North of Haines Junction, Yukon Territory, Canada

P.S. I think this is going to be a rough winter, and you know my track recorded knitting, well with knitting round projects. Would you mind making a pair or two of socks this year?

The personification of the Yukon Territory smiled as he folded the letter and placed it back into his pocket. Then he allowed himself to glance around the mess tent at the men he knew were staring at him.

"The letter was that good, eh?" The Texan kid's over the top Canadian accent imitation almost made Yukon laugh, but he still managed to keep a straight face.

"Yep."

"Come on." A second kid, the one from Louisiana counted. "Are you really going to tell us that a letter from your sister really gets you smiling like that?"

"Yep."

"Leave it be Travis." A third soldier chimed in. "If it is really his sister it means you are allowed to date her…"

"So is she hot?" Travis asked quickly.

"Aren't you supposed to ask if she is single first?" This time Yukon couldn't help but chuckle.

"Do you have a picture?" A fourth kid, asked shyly.

Yukon sighed, and pulled out his pocket watch. On the inside cover it had well worn picture of the three arctic territories smiling at the camera. Flipped open the watch and held it towards the circle of men. "The one who wrote the letter is the one of the left."

"Man, she is a looker." One of the men said, another whistled through his teeth.

"Is she going to be in one of the towns that we go through?" Travis asked excitedly.

"There is a good chance she will be in Fairbanks if you make it that far." With that Yukon stood and stretched. "Well guys, I think I am going to go hit the sack. It is going to be a pretty early start tomorrow. Don't stay up too late."

Yukon had to admit, that at first he had had some misgivings about the men. He was embarrassed to admit that most of his misgivings had been directly related to the color of the men's skin. I mean the U.S. government had sent three regiments of black troops most of whom were from the American south. Some of the boys had never seen an inch of snow in their lives, now they were experiencing snow whenever Mother Nature decided to send it to them, regardless of whether or not the calendar said it was winter. It only took a few days for Yukon to realize that is misgivings were unfounded. Those African America troops were the hardest workers on the entire project.

It was a good think that they had them too, because the Alcan Highway project considered to be the most difficult construction project since the Panama Canal. To build this stretch of road the men had to face torrential down pours, vehicles sinking up to their axials in mud, and the large arctic mosquitoes which men were starting to call Alaska Bombers. But regardless hardships, they were making headway and there was a very good chance that the road to Alaska would be completed by the one year deadline.

September 25, 1942- Eielson Military Base, Fairbanks, Territory of Alaska

The mission to map the Aleutians was going into full force. Throughout the island chain, the Castner's Cutthroats were collecting the data needed for a U.S. invasion to be successful. They were carried in teams of five or ten in submarines to the island and made their way to shore on canoes under the cover of fog. Once there they silently glided across the landscape looking for good spots to set up an American base and searching for evidence of Japanese occupation. The unique skill set of the Castner's Cutthroats was rapidly causing the unit to be known as one of America's very first special ops teams, but upon reporting for an advanced cartography class in Fairbanks, Alaska discovered that the Cutthroats were not the only Alaskan military unit that was getting a reputation.

"Have you ever seen anything like this?" A sergeant said in amazement.

"No." The visiting lieutenant shook his head in amazement. "Even the very best military units from the States aren't that good. They are pretty good shots, but an entire unit getting having perfect accuracy is unheard of."

Alaska couldn't help but smile as the two officers made their way down the chow line. She had good reason to be proud. The Alaskan Provincial Guard, or the Tundra Army as some of the focus in Washington D.C. dismissingly called them, had only started training at Eielson military base. Already the 'backwards' Eskimos, fisherman, and trappers were showing up their military counterparts in almost every exercise through at them.

This had been especially true in marksmanship challenges. Every bullet shot by one of her men not only hit the target, but hit the bull's-eye. While a most units from the United States were lucky to have three or four master marksmen, so far not one of the Provincial Guard had failed to make the rating. And the marksmen were not all male. Some of the very best shots in the Guard happened to be women, a fact which caused many of the military units recently stationed to Alaska to increase their drills to compete.

America might still frown upon the use of snipers in the military, but if Alaska learned anything from the Winter War, snipers might be her only saving grace. Finland proved that a small sniping force familiar with the terrain they were protecting could stop a force with superior manpower and supplies in their tracks. If Japan decided to attack her mainland every man, woman, and child in the Provincial Guard would make sure that every inch of Mainland Alaska that the Japanese attempted to take would be stained with the invader's blood.

Historical Note- While generally considered an issue in the America south; racism in the United States has been a major problem though the nation's history. In the case of Alaska, many minorities faced government sanctioned segregation. The work of the Provincial Guard, the Cutthroats, and the African American units working on the Alcan Highway actually helped to change the laws. The 1st Alaskan Combat Intelligence Platoon was one of the very first official military units to actually encourage people of different races to join. This was seven years before the segregation was ended for the rest of the military. Laws banning segregation in the Territory of Alaska was introduced and passed was in 1945, a full decade before the Supreme Court declared segregation in schools unconstitutional in the lower 48.

End Note- Hey everyone, as usual I would love to hear from you. So if you liked it click the button. Also I am helping set up a Hetalia roleplay forum. If you interested on taking on a one of the countries or simply interested in some more information send me a pm.

Next Chapter- Long Winters - As America creates a force to push the Japanese off of Alaska, it becomes clear that Alaska lacks the resources to keep the new force fed, clothed, and happy. The Alcan Highway is completed. Australia is protected from the Japanese.