Previously on 50☆Stars: The shooting of a pig causes America and Canada to come to the cusp of war over the San Juan Islands. And now back to our regularly scheduled episode.

~

A chilly September breeze marked the beginning of autumn in the capital of the British Empire.

England took this opportunity to have an afternoon tea party with his brothers, Scotland and Wales, before his ocean voyage to colonies in Africa and Asia. He had no plans in place to visit the land of beavers and maple syrup. Having not heard anything problematic to warrant a quick visit, he assumed everything was peaceful over there—until Canada barged into the tea room.

"Canada? Why are you here?"

"England, I'm terribly sorry to disturb you, but I have an urgent matter that needs addressing."

"Can't it wait until after my trip?"

"Please, sir. This is important. We're on the verge of going to war with America."

"Bloody what?"

"Here we go again..." Wales and Scotland quietly observed the exchange while sipping their cups of tea.

"I demand an explanation."

"Uh, well, remember the Oregon Treaty and the group of islands I asked countless times to make clear about who owned them?"

"Yes. What about it?"

"Disagreement between the Americans and our subjects over the sovereignty of the islands has reached a boiling point." Canada pulled out a letter from his coat and handed it over to him.

"What on Earth?" England read the entire contents of the letter with wide eyes. "Is this for real?"

"Apparently so."

"How big are the islands?"

"Um, I think they're roughly the size of modern-day Montreal."

"I see. Does it have any valuable resources worth fighting over?"

"I heard it has a sheep farm, and that's about it."

"Bloody hell," England groaned. "No way am I going to war with America over a bunch of tiny islands, especially over something silly like a dead pig."

"I understand your grievances, however, our subjects don't like the Americans taking over the islands. I want to do something, but I don't want things to get out of hand." Canada gulped nervously. "What should we do? Do we try to land our troops on the island?"

"Hmm... The bottom line is avoiding a war with America." The Englishman thought over the situation for a moment. "Truthfully, I don't have the time, nor do I want to spend resources on this minor conflict since I'm about to go to war with China over opium again. Still, I can't ignore and let America do as he pleases without respect for others like you and myself." He calmly finished his cup of tea.

"Are you planning to burn down his capital again?" Scotland wondered.

England smirked, "I could do that if persuasion doesn't work." He stood up from his seat. "However, I'll give America the benefit of a doubt. If he can come to his senses, he'll realize his mistake and not go to war against the greatest empire in the world."

☆☆☆☆☆

Tensions on San Juan Island began to die down by the end of the summer, yet that didn't stop swarms of American and British civilian tourists from showing up at the scene of conflict. Initially, they were awed by the spectacle of the British warships, watching them launch cannonballs up in the air and down into the water of the bay as practice demonstrations. There were only five of them, all equipped with a total of 70 cannons and 2,140 combatants—around five times the number of cannons and combatants situated at the American camp on the island. The British could easily outgun and outnumber the Americans, yet they had not taken the plunge to land ashore. The Americans on the island stayed overly cautious, assuming their enemies would land at any time when they were the most susceptible. But as more and more soldiers grew tired of doing drills and maintaining fortifications, the British started to be seen as less of a threat compared to the makeshift saloons and brothels in the nearby town.

Unaware of the problem, Idaho and Washington did nothing but watched a pair of soldiers sneak out of the camp to visit the town in the middle of the night.

"Where are they going?" Idaho wondered.

"I overheard them say something about a bunch of beautiful ladies at a brothel," Washington mumbled.

"What's a brothel? It sounds tasty."

"I don't know. I've never been to one, but it's apparently a popular place among the soldiers of our camp."

"Must be some good soup."

"I guess..."

"... I'm hungry."

"Me, too."

"Hold your horses." Oregon startled the boys, stopping them from following after the wayward soldiers.

"D-Don't sneak up on us like that," Washington stammered.

"Y-Yeah," Idaho pouted.

She sighed, "You two should be in bed."

"But we're not sleepy yet."

"We're also very hungry."

"I'm sorry, but both of you need to go back to your tent and not be roaming around at this hour."

"What about those soldiers?"

"They aren't supposed to break curfew, and they'll surely regret doing so when they get back here," Oregon grumbled. "Obviously, you shouldn't follow their example. You should be good boys and go back to bed."

"But I don't wanna be a good boy and go back to bed!" Idaho stamped his feet. "I wanna be a bad boy and go to a brothel!"

"Do you even know what a brothel is?"

"It's a place that serves broth, duh."

"You're an idiot."

"Hey! How am I an idiot? Have you been to a brothel?"

"No, but I know it isn't what you think it is."

"You're lying."

"Why would I lie to you?"

"Because you think we're dumb as sheep."

"I mean, that's not too far off from the truth."

"Shut up! We're not going to bed until we get our fill at the brothel!" He ran away in a huff.

"Hey! Wait for me!" Washington hurried to join him on the run.

"Stop! Get back here! It isn't safe!" Oregon chased after them, carrying a lantern in her grasp.

Idaho stumbled carelessly in the dark ahead of him, determined to reach the nearby town without thinking outside a plentiful bowl of creamy potato soup. The thought of danger didn't occur to him until it was too late. He knocked into someone as he looked back at the others.

"Whoa! Are you okay?" The shadowy stranger loomed over the restless five-year-old boy. "Sorry, little dude. My lantern went out, so I didn't see you coming—"

"Waaah! Monster! Go away!" Idaho blindly chucked stones, sticks, and handfuls of dirt at the person shrouded in darkness.

"Ow! Oof! H-Hey! Stop! I'm not a monster! I swear! Quit throwing crap at me!"

"Oh my gosh!" Oregon gasped, shining her light on a familiar face covered in dirt. "Stop, you dumb potato head! You're attacking America!"

~ America! ~

It was a stunning surprise to see America who had spent a month sailing down the Atlantic coast, traveling across Panama, and sailing up the Pacific coast—just to meet with Oregon, Washington, and Idaho at the center of the conflict. Though he had been informed about the dire situation, he still wanted to hear the full story from them. He wanted to know what led them to wage this weird "war" on the Canadians.

"I didn't have a choice," Idaho grouched. "Their stupid pig kept trespassing on my farm. I had to shoot it, or it would've kept digging up my poor potatoes."

"It was an accident," Washington defended their actions. "I tried to make things right. I offered a fair sum of money, but they refused and threatened to arrest us."

"I was the only person around they could rely on for protection," Oregon explained. "I acted what I thought was the right thing to do. I thought about what you would do in this situation, and it went well—for the most part."

"Uh-huh..." America nodded slowly, getting a grasp of the situation. "So you're telling me, you guys almost started a war with the strongest naval power in the world over the shooting of a pig?"

"Yeah. That's right." They smiled.

"No offense, but you guys are idiots."

"Huh?! Why?!" They gaped at him. "We stopped those uptight Canadians from taking control of the islands!"

"I know. I admire your courage to stand your ground, but this is getting way out of hand. I rather not go to war with Canada, especially over something silly like a dead pig."

"But I want revenge for my potatoes!" Idaho groaned.

"C'mon, America," Washington whined. "This isn't like you to concede to the Canadians."

"Yeah," Oregon frowned. "Remember thirteen years ago? You were hard set on making the 49th parallel the border between us and the Canadians, or else you threatened to go to war."

"Yeah, but..."

"Fifty-four forty or fight! Fifty-four forty or fight! Fifty-four forty or fight!"

"No, you guys. Listen."

"We can't retreat and let the Canadians beat us!" Idaho, Washington, and Oregon clamored. "We need to fight and show we mean business! Now that you're here with us, we can win the war and take over the Great White North—"

"ENOUGH!" America ceased their calls for war with a stern shout, causing them to shrink away in stunned silence. His attitude changed immediately when he realized his frustrations got the better of him, much to his disappointment. He couldn't bear to see their unhappy faces, so he quickly apologized to alleviate them of feeling at fault. "Sorry. I didn't mean to raise my voice. I had been stressed out for months, maybe even years, over bigger problems going on between the Northern and Southern states. Still, I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you guys. I know you guys mean well. I appreciate your enthusiasm and bravery. It's just..." He heaved a heavy sigh.

"America..." Oregon and Washington gave worried looks.

"I already spoke with England and Canada about the islands. We agreed to let a limited number of our troops jointly occupy the island until we could settle the issue in the future." He crouched down to meet their eyes on the same level. "Until then, I want all of you guys to behave yourselves and not stir up trouble. Can you do that for me?"

"But my potatoes—" Washington muzzled Idaho's mouth. "Y-Yeah. We can do that."

"We'll try not to add more problems to your plate," Oregon muttered, rubbing her arm awkwardly. "Also, we're very sorry for making you come all this way to discipline us."

"It's all good," America smiled softly, patting their heads. "I'm just glad to see you guys aren't hurt, so don't feel too bad about everything that has happened. As long as you guys keep your promise to behave yourselves, I'll find a way to fix this."

~ But my potatoes! ~

As promised for the sake of peace, the Americans and British Canadians agreed to limit their military presence during their joint occupation of San Juan Island. The American Camp was allowed to remain in place as long as its soldiers didn't attack the English Camp being set up on the northern side of the island. At first, nobody was sure whether this compromise would be enough to stop each camp from attacking the other. With two opposing militaries essentially sharing the same space, there was the possibility of this joint occupation literally blowing up in everyone's faces. But as months of caution turned into years of tedium, with little progress made in negotiations, the territorial dispute that almost turned into an international crisis suddenly became an afterthought. The shot that triggered tensions had now become a comedic story shared over shots of whiskey. Instead of raising their guns and voices over whose fault it was, the soldiers of one camp raised their spirits in sporting contests against the soldiers of the other camp. Regardless of the outcome, the Americans and British Canadians got along splendidly—for the most part.

Idaho sat on a stump eating roasted potatoes near the campfire when he became startled by a creepy whisper breathing down the back of his neck. "Murderer..."

"Oh my gosh! Shut up!" He glared over his shoulder at Vancouver Island. "Leave me alone. I'm tryna eat my potatoes in peace."

She huffed, "I won't leave you alone until you provide a proper apology and compensation equal to the price of my prized pig."

"Piss off!"

"You little twat!"

Oregon shook her head, tired of their commotion. "I wish you two move on already. It has been years since the incident."

"Well, how can I forgive him? He shows no remorse for the trouble he has caused me, nor does he want to take responsibility for his actions," Vancouver Island scowled.

"I'm not saying you have to forgive him. You have every right to be upset. I just think it's silly and tiresome for you to bully the dumb kid constantly."

"Yeah," Idaho snickered. "Like she said. It's stupid and super annoying."

"Just like you," Oregon retorted.

"Hey! You can't say that. You're supposed to be on my side."

"That doesn't mean you're fully pardoned of wrongdoing."

"I did nothing wrong though. Her pig had it coming when it ate my potatoes."

"Well, I doubt shooting her poor, defenseless pig was the right call. I rather you chase it away or build a better fence around your potato patch."

"And let that pig get away with eating my potatoes? No way!"

"You see!" Vancouver Island argued. "He's unforgivable! A heartless murderer, I tell you!"

Oregon sighed, "Why can't we all just get along...?"

Elsewhere by the campfire, Washington minded his own business, silently gazing up at the stars until a soft voice interrupted his troubling thoughts. "Hello. Is everything alright?"

"U-Uh, I guess..." He looked up at British Columbia and the wooden platter of mixed berry tarts in her hands.

"Do you want one? I made them in celebration of America's birthday."

"Um, sure."

She watched him take one of her homemade tarts and bite into it, smiling to see his eyes grow big and bright in amazement. "What do you think?"

"Mm-hmm." He nodded as he gulped down the rest of the tart.

British Columbia giggled, "I'm glad it cheered you up."

"Cheered me up?"

"I noticed earlier you looked a bit down."

"Oh, yeah..." Washington mumbled sadly. "I was just thinking about the civil war and everyone involved in the conflict."

"Ah, I see..." She calmly sat down next to him. "... Are you scared?"

He nodded with a grimace. "I don't know what's going on over there outside the stories I read in the newspaper. It sucks because it sounds like they're all going through hell."

"I can only imagine."

"Yeah. I'm thankful to be far away from that, and it's honestly messed up. My friends and family are tearing each other apart while I'm here doing nothing to help them."

"Well, maybe it's for the best. I'm sure your friends and family don't want to see you get entangled in the war."

"Maybe." He slumped his shoulders. "I want everything to be alright, but I don't know how that's going to happen."

"It'll happen when the war ends."

"I don't think it's that simple."

"Won't there be discussions at the end of the war?"

"I assume so."

"Then, it's that simple," British Columbia smirked. "When the war ends, they'll get together to talk and make amends without guns pointed at each other."

"I imagine Texas saying otherwise."

"My point still stands." She offered him another tart, which he accepted graciously. "War sucks."

"Totally."

They toasted their berry tarts to peace while watching Oregon struggle to pry apart Idaho and Vancouver Island from landing any more blows to their faces.

~ Twelve Years Later... ~

Sitting poised on a burgundy, golden throne in a grand ornate hall was a blue-eyed, blond boy believed to embody the newly-formed German Empire—aka Prussia's baby brother. Though for some mysterious reason, Germany appeared more grown than expected for a country still in its infancy. Observers like England would say he resembled a certain country that existed long ago. America and Canada wouldn't understand, nor would they think to learn more about the young, German nation. They only needed him to act as an arbitrator to resolve their dispute over the San Juan Islands.

"Can someone tell me why we can't make the channel running between the islands the official boundary?" Germany wondered. "In my opinion, it's the only fair and logical solution to this problem."

"I wouldn't mind agreeing to that," Canada mumbled.

"Unfortunately," England grumbled, "we couldn't do that for a particularly insistent Yankee tosser loathed having to compromise."

"It's all or nothing, baby! Woo!" America grinned ambitiously.

"I see..." Germany sighed. "I suppose you may proceed to make your arguments then."

Both America and England alongside Canada made their cases before Germany, trying to garner his favor in choosing them as the rightful owner of the islands. They gave solid reasons while trashing the other side to make themselves seem better by comparison. At some point, they ran out of talking points and went straight into insulting each other. It had gotten to the point Germany had trouble keeping track of their arguments. He had a hard time coming up with a decision as he felt neither country deserved the islands.

"You guys were going to arrest one of my citizens over a dead pig."

"You forget it was a pig that had been shot dead by an unlawful American on property owned by the Hudson Bay Company."

"It's just a pig, bro. Get over it."

"I'll get over it when the Americans involved in the incident take responsibility for escalating the conflict and the loss of a British boar."

"Not gonna happen."

"Not at all shocking to hear coming out of a pathetic man-child."

"Fuck you, old man!"

"I've proven my point. Nothing you've done has demonstrated your worthiness to possess the islands."

"Do I need to fight you to get them? Is that what you want?"

"You don't stand a sliver of a chance against me."

"Limey bastard! I'll show you!"

Prussia stood by the throne, cackling at their quarrel, "Fufufu~ These guys are hilarious."

Germany groaned, tired of their pointless insults and bickering. "Big brother, must I do this?" He glanced up at him with pitiful eyes. "I don't think I'm qualified to decide who's right in this situation. I barely know these countries."

"No worries, baby brother. There's no right choice, nor is there a wrong choice in this situation. There are just two sides, both equally dumb and despicable (except for Canada). Choosing either one won't mean much to us." He gave him a reassuring pat on the head. "Just go with that strong feeling in your heart and gut if your head hurts trying to make sense of it."

"Is that a good idea?"

"If you want to be awesome like me, you're going to have to make these kinds of decisions all the time," Prussia smirked. "Can you do it?"

After thinking it over, Germany gave a nod with eyes now filled with resolution. "I'll do my best."

England continued to chastise the American without holding back his indignant tone. "It would surely be unwise for the islands to come under your control. It would be like rewarding sweets to a misbehaving baby. It would only encourage you to act selfishly and demand more than what you deserve. It would be disastrous."

"I would be disastrous for you," America retorted. "Listen, Limey dude. You already have tons of land thanks to your colonies. Canada alone is the second-largest country in the world. Even without those islands, those facts remain the same."

"Still," Canada frowned, "I don't like the thought of you—"

"I made my decision," Germany announced abruptly, getting the room's full attention.

"So?" America, Canada, and England awaited his answer.

"After listening to your presentations..." He took a deep breath, pausing for dramatic effect. "... I decided to grant the islands to America."

"What?" Canada gasped in shock.

"FUCK YEAH!" America exclaimed, fist-pumping the air in celebration of the verdict. "IN YOUR FACE, EYEBROWS! I WIN AGAIN!"

England huffed, feigning indifference. "No big deal. They're just a cluster of small islands of little value to me."

"Keep breathing that copium, dude. I can't enough of it."

"Fuck off!"

"Big brother," Germany watched the English-speaking brothers resume their insults, "I might've made the wrong choice."

Prussia laughed, "Oh, well. You live and learn."

~ America! ~

Hey, hey, daddy, give me some wine!
Hey, hey, mommy, hey, hey, mommy!
I cannot forget the taste of those
Potato croquettes I ate before!

Draw a circle, that's the Earth!
Draw a circle, that's the Earth!
Draw a circle, that's the Earth!
Gosh, I'm Idaho!

Draw a circle, that's the Earth!
Looking closely, that's the Earth!
Or maybe, that's the Earth?
I am the Gem State!

Ah, with just a brushstroke,
A wonderful world can be seen!
Let's make a toast to the Pulaski!
I'm Idaho!

☆☆☆☆☆

+ News of a "war" at San Juan Island didn't reach the American and British governments until September 1859. Right away, both sides took action to calm the potentially explosive international crisis. U.S. General Winfield Scott was sent to the Pacific Northwest to negotiate with the governor of the Colony of Vancouver Island, James Douglas, and resolve the conflict. The men quickly reached an agreement to have each country station a hundred men on the island, withdraw all other forces, and promise to not exercise authority over citizens of the other country. Washington Territory officials and citizens weren't too pleased with Scott who already offended them for remaining on his ship rather than coming ashore to meet them. (Though to be fair, he was 73 years old and nearly immobile due to injuries and health problems). They were critical of his "recent deserting of [their] rights to the island" and his decision to not allow them to exercise jurisdiction over the San Juan Islands. Scott further ruffled feathers when he replaced Captain George Pickett with Captain Lewis Hunt and suggested Brigadier General William S. Harney step down from his command of the Department of Oregon. Harney attempted out of spite to reassert his authority and dismiss Hunt in favor of placing Pickett in charge of American forces on the island. Fortunately, he was soon replaced by General George Wright before he could incite violence between the two countries.

- Negotiations over the San Juan Islands came to a halt when the American Civil War broke out. In contrast to the bitter and bloody battles over slavery, the "front lines" of the Pig War were relatively peaceful. Soldiers at the American and British camps visited each other regularly in between drilling and maintaining their posts, often entertaining each other at feasts and sporting events. Even despite an initial stormy meeting, Pickett got along with the Royal Navy captains and had a drink with them on occasion. Ironically, the only dealings the American military had to face were the unruly citizens and officials of Washington Territory. The lack of civil law on the islands attracted rowdy lawbreakers. The militaries of both countries attempted to establish order, however, their strict military rule was mostly regarded by locals in a negative light. Aside from disputes with civilian authorities, the American and British camps remained cordial throughout their joint operation.

+ No attempts were made to resolve the underlying boundary dispute until the late 1860s. In 1871, America and Britain signed the Treaty of Washington, which dealt with various differences between the two nations, including border issues involving the newly formed Dominion of Canada. America didn't want a compromise boundary splitting the San Juan Islands between the countries. Instead, the decision to resolve the dispute would be by international arbitration limited to choosing between the Haro and Rosario straits on the left and right sides of the islands. German Emperor Wilhelm I was chosen to act as arbitrator, largely because George Bancroft was the American ambassador to Germany who had previously negotiated in the 1846 Treaty of Oregon. Bancroft and his British counterpart made their presentations before Wilhelm's three-man arbitration commission. Possibly due to his German connections, Bancroft's presentation got two of the commissioners to choose the Haro strait in favor of the United States, giving Americans total control of the San Juan Islands on October 21, 1872. Just like that, the Pig War came to a peaceful end with no casualties on either side (aside from a pig).

~

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