(Option 2 has been chosen with 2 votes!)
You turn, bursting towards the nearest building as shells land around you, rushing inside a building as your comrades do the same. You drive your shoulder to open the door, finding yourself in an office building, no doubt one that was abandoned when the fighting started. You're left waiting there inside, hoping that the violence ends soon as shells explode outside.
The shelling continues until nightfall, as the sky darkens on the second day of the newly proclaimed Republic. As the shelling ends, you're left clutching at your rifle, praying to God it doesn't start up again, as tiles from the roof drop down, breaking open with crashes around you. For the next few minutes, or hours, perhaps, you're just left desperately hoping it doesn't start again, terrified out of your mind. Your allies are equally terrified. You're not soldiers; you're children, sent out to take back your country from an impossibly large Empire.
"God our father, almighty Jesus, Holy Spirit, please grant me the strength and power to last through the night. Please help me break away from the..." you begin to mutter before Joseph angrily grasps your arm.
"They can't take away our fighting spirit that easily!" Joseph says desperately. "They just can't! It's not fair!"
"Joseph, just quiet down. No one wants to hear you breaking the silence. They're content with it. Just leave them to appreciate the fact that shells aren't raining down now."
Joseph falls silent, but this time, the silence isn't as still. You can hear whimpering from the other buildings, crying from the wounded and the scared, desperate muttered prayers from the others. You close your eyes, desperately hoping for a way out. Joseph looks around, seeing the same group of terrified boys hiding that you see. He closes his eyes tightly, before opening them with a fierce look of determination. Slowly, he begins to sing one of the new Irish patriot tunes, his voice rising above the terrified mutterings of the rest of the poor souls hiding out there.
"We'll sing a song, a soldier's song, with cheering rousing chorus, As round our blazing fires we throng, The starry heavens o'er us!"
Joseph's never been a good singer by any degree, but something about the emotion, the determination, the spirit in his voice, it awakens the same feelings in you. Slowly, a few voices, yours included, join in.
"Impatient for the coming fight, And as we await the morning's light...!"
More voices join the singing, as the voices grow louder and more fierce.
"Here in the silence of the night, We'll chant a soldier's song!" the voices sing out into the night,
The song continues as your voices get louder, the song breaking through the cold, dark silence and filling you with inspiration.
"Soldiers are we whose lives are pledged to Ireland. Some have come from a land beyond the wave! Sworn to be free. No more our ancient sireland shall shelter the despot or the slave. Tonight we man the gap of danger. In Erin's cause, come woe or weal!"
At this point, not a voice is silent or passionless, dozens of voices roaring without pause, without regard for the enemy at the throat of the deathly rain of shrapnel and flames that landed minutes ago.
"'Mid cannons' roar and rifles peal We will chant a soldier's song!" you roar.
The group continues singing into the endless darkness. It's clear to you, as your voice is added to dozens of others, that the Irish spirit hasn't been broken tonight.
Days Later...
The next few days, you're not attacked, but the shelling, that goddamned shelling, continues on. Every day is a horror as you pray shells won't destroy the building, just hoping to survive as shells smash around you, tearing great holes in the buildings and blowing chunks of stone and mortar.
By Wednesday, hundreds of British troops attacked twenty-six volunteers in the Mendicity Institute, and they became the first of the rebels to surrender. Impressively, these men had been placed as a diversion to hold the area for a few hours to slow down the British but had lasted three days. Meanwhile, in the assault on Mount Street, seventeen Irish rebels managed to hold off over a thousand British soldiers, taking out 240 British soldiers with only 4 of their own casualties. God, they're impressive allies.
Of course, after that, the British hit hard. Over the next few days, there was endless brutality, As the British forces push in, they take heavy losses, but do push your forces back. It's going to be a hard fight to win this battle and push them back out of the city.
Now, on Thursday, a British force of soldiers have pushed up an advance force to the GPO, and you're forced to defend it. With a handful of other soldiers, James Connolly included, you're left defending an upper floor.
You stand by the window of the GPO, rushing to reload rifles. The single-shot nature of your rifles means you've set it up so while two men reload
"Christ, I need a better stance," Connolly says, putting his foot up on the windowsill.
James Connolly aims down his rifle, taking another shot. Suddenly, a bullet thuds into his leg, as he's sent toppling over with a scream. He lies on the ground, clutching his heavily bleeding leg. You drop the rifle you're holding, looking around for something to do. You can't see outside, but you know it's not going to take much to overrun your position.
1. Help Connolly
2. Take Connolly's spot on the window