Old sergeant told me that you don't know that you were in the battle of such and such until a month after it's over. When you're in it, it's just you trying to kill them, them trying to kill you.

It's different here. Coming in, they told us this was the big one. Serenity Valley is the prize, the key to the whole campaign. We've got the numbers, we've got the support, we've got the angels on our side.

The damn Browncoats knew we were coming, knew for a while. They scan the cortex too, read all about it in the press releases, read the discussions from people who've never had to tie off the stumps of a woman's legs while she yells for her children. They kept talking it up, 'decisive edges' and 'overwhelming superiority' and all kinds of idiocy.

What the Browncoats don't have in troops and metal, they make up for with sheer bloody guts. First night in, they take out a battalion CP. We had hell clearing out all the infiltrators behind the lines.

Pound on them for days, a whole valley full of craters, burned-out tanks, destroyed fighters, bodies and parts of bodies everywhere. Three major pushes I've been in, one of theirs and two of ours, never had one like this.

Just lost a corporal, three rounds through the lungs. Couldn't understand what he was saying when he went, couldn't hear a thing.

They say that they'll break any time now. One more attack, and it'll be over. We've had three 'one more' attacks already. Prisoners are saying all their officers are dead, that a sergeant is holding things together over there. A lot of them think he's going to turn this thing around.

To hell with that. To hell with him. Air support is coming in, and I hope they kill every damn last one of them. Word is that the Browncoats aren't bothering with prisoners anymore.

The fighters are sweeping their positions while I run an IV on one of the new kids. His name is... hell, I don't know what his name is. He'll never walk right again, probably, so he just scored a ticket home.