Well, I saw this program on TV and it was about the Pacific War dogs that fought with the US marines. Obviously this story will center around Alfred. So any Alfred fans and animal lovers that are reading this, I hope you like it. I do have big plans for this story and will upload new chapters as often as I can. I'm sad when people who write such great stories don't post new chapter often, so I'll try not to do that. Hope you all enjoy, or find this first chapter interesting.

DISCLAIMER: Hetalia is not mine, it belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.

Chapter 1
First Meeting

Alfred was frustrated and angry that he lost yet another battle to Kiku. Jungle warfare was much more difficult than he thought it would be. The unbearable heat during the day, the chills of the night, the dense brush, the swamps, the mosquitoes—too many obstacles. Let's not forget about the fact that Kiku and his troops were so well camouflaged that they easily hid themselves in the brush and would just wait for Alfred and his troops to walk by; then they'd open fire on them.

Alfred had already lost hundreds of men, and they had very few Japanese prisoners since most of them either fought to the death or killed themselves. The blond just wanted to end this war—this Hell-on-Earth—once and for all. Too many families have been broken.

As a result of his loses in the Pacific, the nation had a couple of permanent scars on his toned body, and his forehead was currently wrapped in bandages thanks to a bullet that had grazed his right temple during a shoot-out with Japanese troops.

Right now he was back on his own soil. They didn't call him back because of his injury, they told him that the marines had come up with a solution that could help him and his troops turn the tide in jungle warfare.

What was the solution, you ask? Dogs.

Alfred had to admit to himself that he thought the idea was silly at first. After all, dogs were supposed to be family pets and give company to their masters, not running on the battlefield with shells raining down on them and explosions ringing in their ears. Besides, where would they get enough dogs for multiple squads to handle? Not all the marines owned dogs, he didn't even have one himself.

However, his question was soon answered as they gave him more info on the topic. They were running campaigns for civilians to donate their dogs for these types of services. Also, the dog training camps were agreeing to take in a couple of dogs from the pound; it would give the canines a second chance at life.

Alfred asked why would people want to send their pets out to fight war overseas, and the answer he got was that the marines weren't going to be keeping the dogs when the war ended; the owners were told that they would get their dogs back when peace returned. And also because it gave people a sense of duty knowing that they were helping their country—helping him—in a small way.

Seeing that this plan was already set in motion, Alfred agreed to go on with it.

Though he didn't own a dog he had come in contact with many breeds from all over the world thanks to the diverse population of his land. Therefore, he was to be one of the dog handlers, meaning he would be walking into combat with the dog as well as care for it.

As he thought about the solution a couple more times, it didn't seem so silly anymore. If they could train a horse to do military work then surely they could train a dog. Besides, dogs had been helping Man for thousands of years and they had been a great help during the First World War.

Alfred remembered seeing the messenger dog running back and forth across the battlefield from one trench to the other. He never got to see the dog up close and personal, but he remembered how fast it ran and how useful it was for sending out messages. That was during the First World War, when Alfred was crouching down in his trench. Now, it was the Second World War and this time he was fighting against Kiku in the Pacific.

Alfred and a good couple handfuls of young marines were sent out to one of the dog training camps. They would have their own mess hall and it wouldn't be as crowded as normal training camps, so that put their minds at some ease.

The young marines that were with Alfred were seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, or in their early twenties. The blond had friendly conversations with them and made jokes. Hey, might as well get acquainted with everyone now since they were gonna be living with each other in the next couple of years. They all seemed like nice and amiable lads.

When they set foot on the campus all they could hear was barking. As they looked around their new "home" they saw two rows of kennels, each housing a single dog. They walked between the two rows to get a look at the canines. There were a lot of Dobermans, some German shepherds, Labrador retrievers, and several mixed breeds as well.

After seeing them all, Alfred and the others walked away from the kennels in hopes of stopping the barking that was now ringing in their ears. But even when they found the mess hall, which was past the barracks, they could still hear the barking.

'Dear God, what have I gotten myself into?' thought Alfred as he and the others entered the mess hall.

The cooks already had their lunch ready for them. It was some soup with vegetables and pieces of meat in it, bread, and a glass of water. The soup was nice and warm, and the bread wasn't stale. Even though it wasn't a hamburger, Alfred was happy to get a decent amount of food into his stomach—fresh food at that! While he was in the Pacific he had to nibble at the few rations he could get a hold of, and then he'd stuff the leftovers in his pocket for later.

When they had finished their meal, they went into the barracks to organize their things. They didn't get much done because about ten minutes later they were called out to the kennels again. Knowing it was a Sergeant that was calling them they marched over to the kennels and saluted him; he nodded his head at them. He went over why they were all at the camp, what was happening in the Pacific, and what their goals were. He went to each marine and asked for their name. Alfred was the last one to be asked.

"And you?"

"Alfred F. Jones, sir."

"Hmm…" the Sergeant looked at the blonde's bandaged forehead. "What the hell happened to your head, son?"

"A bullet grazed my right temple, sir."

"I see… so you've been out there in the Pacific then?"

"Yes sir."

"Hmm." The Sergeant nodded his head at Alfred. "Very well, then. Welcome back, Jones."

After getting all their names and making sure that everyone was present, the Sergeant told them to go and pick their dog.

"Remember, choose wisely. That dog will be your partner for a long time." he said.

Alfred and his new comrades once again found themselves walking between the two rows of dog kennels. As he neared the middle of the kennels he looked to the left and saw a beautiful chocolate Labrador retriever. It saw the tall blond and immediately began to wag its tail. It stood on its hind legs and put its front paws on the kennel's gate. It looked up at Alfred with happy brown eyes and with its tongue hanging out of its mouth. It barked happily.

Alfred returned the gaze with his own blue eyes.

This chocolate Lab was the only dog that had come up to Alfred while wagging its tail. All the other dogs had just barked at him as he passed their kennel.

"Well, well. That's an interesting choice you've made there, Jones." said the Sergeant as he walked towards the blond. He had a clipboard with him now and it was holding many papers.

Alfred looked at him. "Actually sir, I think the dog chose me."

"Either way, it seems as though the fella likes you already." said the Sergeant as he searched through the papers on his clipboard.

"Ah-ha, here we go." he said when he found the one he wanted. "This guy's name is Rocket."

"Rocket, huh?" said Alfred.

"Yep. He's three years old and his owner donated him at one of our campaigns. Her name is Clara Johnson."

"Ah, so he has a mistress then."

"Yep, a little one."

"Little?"

"Uh-huh. According to this paper, Miss Johnson is only ten years old. She wanted Rocket to help the troops so her parents took her to one of our campaigns and signed him up."

Alfred looked back into the Lab's happy brown eyes. Rocket barked happily again and wagged his tail faster.

"So Jones, is Rocket the one you wish to fight alongside with?" the Sergeant asked.

Alfred glanced at the Sergeant and then at Rocket. The dog started jumping up and down on its hind legs while continuing to bark happily. This made the Sergeant chuckle. "Look at that, the fella's practically begging you to pick him."

Well, since the dog was so friendly towards him, why not? It was a beautiful dog, too.

"Alright, I'll give him a chance." said Alfred with a slight shrug of his broad shoulders.

Sorry if this chapter was short, but I'll make the other ones longer if possible. Please let me know what you think of this story, it really gets me fired up to write longer and better chapters.
-HISTORICAL FACTS-
America suffered many loses to the Japanese during the first six months of the Pacific War. The marines decided to train dogs to help troops spot hidden enemies. The dogs' sense of smell and sense of hearing was a great help to the American troops in jungle warfare. They used all sorts of breeds, but the most popular one was the Doberman. (I wanted Alfred to have a Lab because I like those better.) Most of the dogs were donated by civilians. The dogs that came from the pound were thought to be untrainable, but some actually turned out to be the best war dogs the marines had ever seen.
More info in future chapters.