Wars were never meant to be merciful.
The 10 days of battle has done plenty of damage to both neighbouring countries, however our platoon was triumphant. Nonetheless, it was for the purpose of greater good that lead to this massacre of lesser evil.
Every success came with a price. The commander was right, indeed we were ambushed in the dense amazon. The commander took major damage, taking into consideration of medical disadvantages in the open wild, we had no choice but to seize war while fleeing from time to time from the enemy sight till our medical officer is able to come up with a new concoction of marvel to shed light into our gloomy tent.
However, the commander left precise strategies in commencement even when he is lying stiff in bed. Crying babies, carpet of red along the long stretch of road...
They left us very lil choice but to cripple their defenceless town in order for us to restock on supply.
The great god of war, Apollo has once again stood by our side. We have won our first few major battle despite of our very ill commanding officer. The commander is in light once more, we perceived a glorious vitory ahead of us.
Yet we may not let guards down, as there are among the riots of citizen which bare so much hatred hiding in the think dense jungle ready to strike at our weakest moment.
Logging off--