Day 237: I'm still sitting in the same trench and nursing an infected foot. Half of my platoon has gotten severely ill from the Spanish flu. I don't know how much longer I can hold on. During the last German advance across no man's land, I could only get three shots off before my rifle jammed. Day 284: We got hit with mustard gas again today. The German tanks have been pushing us back every few weeks. My foot is a lost cause, it smells worse than the death around me and it's likely going to need to be amputated before I die of blood poisoning. Not that it matters, I can barely breathe after my mask wouldn't seal over my whiskers and I think my lungs got burned bad. Day 312: The last German advance came with tanks and zeppelins. We lost our few remaining aircraft to ground fire and the sky belongs to Germany now. We started eating the horses for food as we ran out of ammunition for the artillery and abandoned it. Day 325: I cut off my own foot with my e-tool today. The medics said they couldn't do any field surgery in these conditions. The pain of hacking through my ankle wasn't as bad as the pain in my lower leg. The stench that erupted as I broke the skin was unbearable, I almost preferred the mustard gas. Day 327: We lost contact with the rest of the front today. Only about 12 men are left in my platoon. I've been holding 150 feet of trench on my own. I burned my lower leg with kerosene and wrapped the best tourniquet around it that I could. I don't think I stopped the infection though. I've been coughing and shaking constantly. My lungs still burn from the gas. Day 328: The Germans made one final push today. Our trench was overrun and I could hear the screams of my platoon being burned alive by a German flame thrower. I had no ammo left, but I kept one grenade in case I had a chance to take one of those kraut bastards with me. Out of nowhere came the sound of aircraft, machine gun fire and the cries of dying Germans. I wasn't sure if I could believe my eyes or not but I thought I saw a man wearing a cape, standing in the open and hip-firing a machine gun. Day 402: I've been in the field hospital for almost 3 months now. I have no idea who or what unit it was that came to our aid, but they behaved as if they were invincible. Standing tall in no man's land, casually gunning down Germans and even beating one to death with a stick grenade and an e-tool. It was some of the most incredulous things I've seen during my year at war in France. On a side note, the docs told me to gangrene spread to my abdomen and I've got a few weeks to a month to live. Not a bad run I guess, it sure beats dying in Kentucky. (Edit: typos/errors)