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Sunday, February 20, 2011

It's the Government mannnnnnnnnn.

A Very Confusing War Story


The train was late, it was always late. Some things never change, French trains being late being one of them. The new recruits excitedly jumped on the train, while the veterans were dragged on by the being known as nationalism. The train selfishly started down the tracks, indifferent to the weeping mother who would give everything for it to stay.

A few hours later the train stopped in the middle of a forest where a few trucks were waiting for them. The men grabbed their bags and helmets, and left the train. They anxiously boarded the trucks, and started driving, feeling more confident because they could seemingly control where they were going. They stopped at the construction site that would be the battlefield. After unloading the contents of the jeeps the soldiers got their first taste of the war; digging. They dug trenches for a few hours. During that time the German soldiers arrived and dug their trenches as well. When the battlefield was complete, the men got into position. A few minutes later both sides sent over a high ranking soldier to the middle of the field. They talked, shook hands, and went back to their respective sides.

A few seconds after that, the shooting began and all the stereotypical things of war happened. Young men watching their best friend die while others realize that they can't bear the idea of killing another man. Suddenly the Germans stopped shooting, soon to be joined by the French a few minutes later. A German tank slowly rolled up over the German Trench line. It stood there ominously waiting for a few seconds, and then it fired. “C'est ne pas normal” murmured a French private. The shell hit, and then another, and the French were Broken.


So here I am being a French truck when suddenly a train arrives and all these people just pour out and start sitting on me. One of them turned on my engine and started driving me. From my I heard we were going to Glory. Glory must have been far away because my wheels rotated so many times I can't even count that high. Glory was a pretty boring place initially it was just this plain separating two forest. I'm guessing the people riding here where having a hole digging party because that's what they did for hours.

Other people came and dug holes too; they were dressed differently though so maybe it was a contest. Our holes were pretty much the same thought, and after all they're just holes. What kind of people want to have a hole digging contest? It doesn't matter though because the other guys cheated. They started shooting at our hole diggers. They also brought a hole digging machine, how cheap is that? The hole making machine started shooting at our hole diggers as well. It hit me right here, right here in the engine. So now I'm broken.


So here I was being a helmet, in a dark bag. When suddenly the bag opened and something took me out of it. It didn't get to enjoy the sweet fresh air for long, because my new owner shoved me right into his armpit. I know this is war and all but that doesn't mean you can't put on some deodorant. He tortured me too. He waited for hours, before putting me on, how terrible is that? My whole life I've been waiting to couple with a head, and here I am less than a meter away from many fine specimens under someone’s armpit.

He eventually put me on. My feeling of joy was unimaginable, my existence is complete. I'm pretty much the best helmet ever. Eventually I arrived, proudly riding my steed. After preparing for battle we fought our filthy enemy. We were obliterating our enemy until they started cheating. Typical. They brought a Tank, which is obviously against the rules. Things went downhill from there; I was shot off my stead. It then ran away, from the battle like the coward that it was. Somehow it forgot all about me, I'm not exactly sure how that's possible, I guess war does that to you. So now, I'm all alone on the ground. Without a steed. I'm lost without a steed. I'm broken without a steed.


Man, I'm so glad I'm a tank. I'm so big and strong. I'm so much better than all the other vehicles. My cousin Sternreich sent me a letter saying that he can walk on water and that he's twenty times bigger than me. He's full of himself though, just like those annoying helmets. He's probably juicing anyways.

We dominated on the battlefield today. I wish I could have taken a picture of the look on those Frenchman's faces when they saw me rolling in. There was a pretty attractive truck on the French side. She looked really confused though, maybe she was retarded. They all shot at me for a while and when they realized that it was pointless ran away from my superiority. Then I shot at them; I don't think I harmed anyone, I did break that hot truck though.

I'm so awesome. I'm not hurt at all. I'm not broken.


Dear Robert,

I'm so glad you decided to fight for our country. I sent some cookies along with this letter, I’m not sure if they'll get through security but I thought it was worth a shot. I heard on the news that our first battle was a complete failure, and that the Germans got some kind of new war machine. I hope you got out of there okay. I wouldn't worry too much about it though because I'm sure our great nation will come up with some great inventions to counter this so called Tank. You forgot your helmet here, so I'm sending that as well. I hope you get back home in one piece. I would be so lost without you. Don't break anything!

With Love

Your Mother

My Dear Mother,

I love the cookies, don't worry about the helmet they gave me a new one. I barely got out of the battle you mentioned, but from what I hear we are starting to produce tanks of our own so we should be okay.

Your loving son


Mrs. Hofstadter.

I would like to let you let know that your son got his ass kicked at war yesterday. It wasn’t our fault. Sorry.


The Military.

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