For Jack, Tony, and Red. His rifle lay next to him, cracked and beaten His uniform ripped and torn in all sorts of places; covered in dirt, blood, and dust His chocolate-colored eyes look up at the empty sky As if he was looking for the answers to this convoluted mess that we call war... …………….. A single trail of tears decorate his muddy face Next to him a furred mass lay Their arms outstretched Paw-in-hand ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1901/05/20 Dearest Mother. I have now decided to write in this diary that you have given me. By now you are probably reading the note that I have left on the kitchen table. I think back now to that bare table. Such a simple piece of furniture with so many memories associated with it: a place where ate and drank together, hosted gatherings together, and so much more. Its solid teak body weathered with the test of time. Something so simple that has brought us all together for so many years will now forever be bastardized with the note of my enlistment. I would very much like to write down an apology here, but I cannot apologize for taking arms and defending our homeland against the Great State. They have swept from Pyongyang to Delhi, and it is only a matter of time before this “great” State aims its sights on our own lands. I have decided upon myself that I shall enlist in the People's Army of Kurdistan. The Tabukistan, Shadadistan, and the Ottomans have decided to join us as a joint defensive force. I am currently on a train over to the eastern city of Bishkek. Apparently that is where they train all of the recruits. I am sad that I have left the farm work and housekeeping duties one man short, but this is a calling that I need to answer. The Turkish Emirates will be known as the men who have set aside their differences and ended this heinous war of “Unification”. Maybe they'll even give me a medal for my actions! Only time will tell. ************************************************************* 1901/05/25 Today was the third day of training for us new recruits. I was able to sneak this diary in my bottom of my boot, and I plan on keeping notes of my time during basic training as well as my exploits afterwards. For now the drilling instructors have made us perform regular physical exercises and all sorts of tests. It is a good thing I never slacked on the farm! Both you and the Instructor would have had my hide! Every time a man or woman failed any of the exercises they received no less than two lashes from his whip. Speaking of stowaways, there was a woman that snuck on the train! The commander brought her into the courtyard and had her tied to a pole. This was a woman that I had never seen before, and was she a sight to behold! I had heard stories if the Avalon beast people, but I never thought that I'd see one in person! Her fur is a golden yellow. And looked very soft to the touch. Her fluffy tail curled around in a little circle. Her torso is lean and built like man, but her face also took the form of a canine. Her snout was dark black furred on the end and had a gradient to her typical yellow. Her thin black lips let her bare her sharp teeth when the commander inquired of her origin. The woman's eyes are lighter brown, like yours, dear Mother, and slightly squinted. But there is something in them that scared me. Untold stories of atrocities, no doubt brought by the Socialists. Nobody said that they could understand what she was saying. I should thank Papa for teaching me the tongue of the Asian traders, because she spoke it well enough for me to partially understand. Apparently she was a refugee from the town of Seoul. The beast woman has been hopping off and on of different trains in hopes of smuggling herself back to Avalon via a merchant airship. She wanted to catch a flight at the flight-ports of Hong Kong, Ho Chi Minh City, or Bangkok. I have no earthly idea how she made it to the western front, but if what she says is true, then this poor woman watched her home country burn before her own eyes and saw the otherworldly Hell that the Great State leaves in its wake. The company commander accepted her story well enough and conscripted her into the People's Army. It is not like she had much say in the matter. She was technically an illegal immigrant. At least we had caught her and not the border guards. They may have shot her on-sight. ************************************************************* 1901/05/27 I have learned that the beast woman’s name is Tuyen Ch’o. A few of us farmhands and merchant-traders whom are versed in the Trader's Tongue were able to form a little group and welcome her into the Emirates proper. Tuyen had been a dock worker prior to the Unification, and said little else of her home. Some of the other men tried to press her further, but I was forced to take her away due to her discomfort with the situation. On a more positive note, we were all given our uniform and service weapons. The rifle they issued us was very different to the one we have at home. A sort of bolt-action with smooth wood and a metal disc in the butt. This rifle hold not one, but five separate shots! Our uniforms are khaki dresses that include long leather boots and a few pouches on the belt to carry extra ammunition. The long-sleeve dress shirt and heavy pants make sleeping in the cool air more bearable, but the warmer afternoons are almost ungodly when we march and drill under the hot sun. We also got to shoot our rifles today. I was very happy with my shots that I took on-target. And while Tuyen's shots were well enough, the commander allowed me to guide her and correct her poise for better accuracy. The beast woman was doing better after my personal instruction, and it seems that the Instructor will place us both together in a squadron once our training is complete. I miss you so much, Mother. When all this is over, I shall come home and help you and the family with the farm harvests. I also pray to God that Tuyen may find the remnants of her family in Avalon when this is over. ************************************************************* 1901/05/28 Another round of target practice and more basic exercise drills were on the docket today. Private Ch'o kept herself by my side most of the day. While am not revolted by her appearance, it seems odd that something we call “man's best friend” walks upright and speaks our tongue. I guess I am still not totally used to the Avalon physique. Speaking of physique, the dock-worker was much stronger than any of us had originally thought! She lifted just as much weight as I did during some exercises, if not more. While I disapprove of the drill instructor's particular motive to single out Ch'o, she seems to take it in stride (with some mumbled profanities that I shan't repeat). The heat of the midday sun forces Private Ch'o to pant with her mouth open and tongue lolling. I was smart enough to not make a silly remark of it, but another squad-mate did not heed my warnings. A swipe of her handpaws left a few nasty scratches along his face. Rather than discipline Private Ch'o, the company instructor was very pleased with her standing up for herself. I'm fairly certain that the poor recipient of said scratches also was put in the MP jail for a night to cool off and think about his ill-advised decision. ************************************************************* 1901/06/03 Now that basic shooting skills have been taught, the Instructor has been adamant about showing us more sophisticated weapons that we may be handling. The instructors have separated us into divisions and have assigned us each roles. As of now, I, Erasyl Erdoğan, am an ammunition bearer for the 509th Support Battalion, 2nd Squadron. Private Ch'o’s hefty strength did not go unnoticed by the men in charge, and they hand-picked a special few of us to train in the use of what they called “machine guns”. My God, Mother. If you saw this thing you would lose faith in humanity itself! It is a monster made for killing. The sergeant called it a “Vickers” gun. The absolute unit was awfully heavy, and was fed with a belt and large canister that held said ammunition. The worst part was that you did not even have to do anything to fire a second shot! Oh no, all you had to do was press the firing mechanism and let the gun blast away at the target. The cold, round muzzle felt hot to the touch only after a long series of target practice shots. I was able to push the firing button down for extensive periods of time. I was given a special large pack that allowed the stand that kept the gun upright to be taken with me while Ch'o held the gun with a carry handle. She could still fire the heavy gun even without the stand, but I'd imagine it would hit everything but the enemy if that were to happen. I was given a rifle to assist Ch'o if she were to need assistance while under fire, although I would most definitely prefer that we stay with the regular infantry. ************************************************************* 1901/06/10 I now know how to march in formation as the People's Army do in the parades. I can fire a gun like the men in the competitions do. I have been whipped, beaten, yelled at by the instructors and they have made me stronger. Private Ch'o and I can follow orders to charge into the fray and come out on victorious, because we are the People's Army of Kurdistan. The State's armies have amassed at the border just a few miles from here, and I can only assume to be expedited through the remainder of our training. Every day more and more trains of fresh-faced recruits are dumped into the base. With my khaki uniform and heavy ammo boxes slung on my shoulders, I will proudly defend my glorious homeland until my last breath. They say that our group of trainees will be shipped southward to the Shadadistan-Indian border as a show of strength. Supposedly both armies are so close to the border that we will be able to see the smiles on their faces. Private Ch'o has been very quiet the last few days. Ever since she heard the news of our shipping out, she has not said a word to me. When I tried to hold her handpaw and tell her that we would be okay, I saw that she had dug nail-marks into the wood of the mess hall table. There was no fear in her eyes. Only anger. ************************************************************* 1901/06/11 We awoke to see our medals and graduation ribbons placed on our footlockers. I guess there is no time for fancy graduation ceremonies when the State is staring at your land and peoples with hungry eyes. Private Ch'o and I assisted eachother with affixing our dress uniforms with the respective decorations. As we saluted while the anthem played, an officer came in and handed us our orders. As suspected, our battalion was headed South to the Indian border. We said our goodbyes to the others that would not join us on our journey, and assembled at the train station at the front gates of the training facility. As I climbed aboard, my newly appointed squad officer, Corporal Katczinsky hefted me several cans off ammunition and a well-worn rifle. He says that if I lose that rifle, he will stick my head on the end of his bayonet. I will make certain to lose neither my service rifle nor my cans of ammo! Despite his initial brash interaction, he seems like a decent enough man. He seems fairly new at being a non-commissioned officer. I can't blame him for trying to establish a sense of authority; he is my superior. With a long train ride ahead, I got to know my squad-mates a little bit better. Private Tuyen Ch'o is twenty-three years of age. As stated earlier, she is from Avalon descent and the only beast-person in our squad. If not the entire Battalion. She was a former shipyard worker and has a good amount of strength hidden under her womanly physique. She enjoys reading Europan and E.U. romance novels. Private Smith is twenty-four years old. Originally from the Eastern Union, he fled his homeland in search of adventure and pride. His family owns a small grocery on the E.U. coastline. He is not terribly strong nor a great marksman, but his pride and perseverance has earned him a place in the Turkish Emirate Army. Private Kopciunch is a soft-spoken man from the Europan state known as Pölski. You could spot him from a mile away with his fair skin and bright blue eyes. He was conscripted into the Europan army on his eighteenth birthday and was unlucky enough to be integrated into our armed forces via a cooperative pact between the Europa and the Turkish Emirates. Usually Pöllacks serve as reservists or some sort of non-combatant position. I have no idea how he ended up on the front lines with us. Lastly there is Corporal Katczinsky. Standing at a head shorter than me, he does not give off a authoritative aura with his appearance. His dress khakis are perfectly pressed and his fez hat seems to always sit at a perfect angle to show his sewn-on rank insignia. Despite this, he can easily make a man go deaf from his volume. His face turns red as a tomato when shouting his orders, and I would probably find it humorous to see him animatedly jump around and point at us with his orders if he wasn't our officer. I do believe that I have caught him peeking at Private Ch'o’s romance novel, too. *************************************************************