October 10, Nine Hundred and Ninety-Eighth Year of the Sun,

Finally, I've graduated. I'm one of them now. Lieutenant Gale Force, EMC First Marine Recon, Charlie squad; it's got a nice ring to it.

So, before I get too far into this, I just want to explain a few things. Mom gave me this journal today, the day of my graduation from technical training, and the day I officially became a Recon Marine. She said to just write down my thoughts in here, so I wouldn't forget later.

I don't know, maybe she thinks I'll let my future foals read it or something, or I'll want to pass my memoirs down. It all seems kind of pointless to me, but hey, she made me promise that I'd use it. She does stuff like that a lot.

So anyway, my thoughts. I can't wait to get out there. To whoever reads this, this is what you need to know. The griffons came down from the north and invaded Germaneigh six months ago.

Normally, that wouldn't matter. Wars happen all around Equestria all the time, we just normally never get involved. Only this time, they got greedy. Once Germaneigh was theirs, they set their sights on Equestria. Four months ago, they made landfall in Baltimare.

The city was burning within a day of the landing, but the entire military kicked them back across the ocean in a week. If we had seen it coming, they never would have even gotten out of the water, but nopony had any idea what was coming until the griffies were already kicking down doors. That was the day Flash and me signed up. Miles was still too young, but as soon as he gets old enough, I have no doubt he'll join up too.

The news was giving reports of massacred civilians, kidnappings and torture. Their motives were unclear, something about trying to establish an empire or for more control of natural resources. Nopony knows for sure; Equestria is practically isolated from the entire world except for the Crystal Empire.

The griffons had weapons far superior to ours, and the only way we were able to beat them was by our numbers; they came at us with an advance force, only a few battalions, whereas we had an entire military. They used firearms while we were still using spears and crossbows. That's all changed now.

Our scientists were able to recover a few enemy weapons, and since, improved on the designs. With a little tinkering and a few gadgets, like G.R.I.W.P.s (Gauntlet Reinforced Interlocking Weapon Platform, for you civvies out there), we've come up with guns like theirs, better than theirs. Now they don't stand a chance.

The punitive campaign took a while to plan, and just a few days ago, the plans were announced. I can't say anything else, because I don't know anything else about what's going to happen, other than we're shipping out soon. We're going to make those hybrids pay for what they did. And we'll be at the head of the charge. Marines are first in, and Recon leads the way.

November 20, Nine Hundred and Ninety-Eighth Year of The Sun,

We shipped out three days ago. Now we're on some Celestia forsaken ship bouncing along the ocean and headed east. I hate it.

Mom came all the way from Stableside to see us off. Miles came too. Mom was crying her eyes out and it took me everything I had to keep from tearing up in front of the guys.

She made me promise her that I'd look after Flash and keep him safe, and that I'd do the same for Miles once he got out there too. We all know it won't be long before he joins the fight, but to be honest, it'll probably be over before he gets the chance to see any action.

So here I am, waiting to get to the invasion on a stinky, cramped boat, and trying to stretch my wings as much as my legs. The other guys don't relate to that well. Flash and me are two of the only three pegasi in our platoon; most of the others are earth ponies. They're all good guys, don't get me wrong, but they sure like to make fun of preening. I don't really mind though.

What strikes me is that the vast majority of these guys signed up after the invasion too. Most of us are normal ponies who dropped regular jobs to come and fight for what we believe in. Guys like Baker and Smith; I have no idea how they made the switch. I mean, how do you go from cooking bread to shooting assault rifles, and being good at it?

I don't know, but who am I to talk. I still haven't figured out what my cutie mark means. Flash's is easy enough; he's got a rank insignia on his flank. If we didn't figure it out in boot camp on our own, we all know now that fate has decided to make him the best of all of us.

He's the best shot in the company, and even though he's shorter than me, he outweighs me by almost fifty pounds. Enlisting has changed him from the foal I grew up with to a stallion I'm glad is on our side. What with his training in weapons' expertise, weights, testosterone and guns, he's a force to be reckoned with.

So, Cap (nopony knows his real name), the third Pegasus in our platoon, finally opened up as to where we're heading. A place called Normanedy. Apparently it's where we're launching the invasion. They're expecting minimal resistance, but none of the brass really knows what to expect for sure.

Finally, we're going to see some action.

December 25, Nine Hundred and Ninety-Eighth Year of The Sun,

I was wrong.

It isn't like what I expected. It isn't like what any of us expected.

The landing was hell. They had artillery zeroed on the beach and dozens of bunkers. Most of the guys got hit as they came off the boats, and even more didn't make it to the beach. You couldn't go twenty feet without getting lit up. Even unicorns with magic barriers bought the farm. Crazy how much damage those little bullets can do.

The only reason those of us that survived did so was because we kept our heads and remembered our training. I was the only one from Charlie squad that made it. Flash got through, but only one other guy from Bravo squad made it out with him. Hell, between the beach and clearing all the bunkers, only a dozen out of the original platoon survived. We aren't victors here; we're survivors.

The breakout campaign is going good. Granted, those of us from First Recon are being held back to wait for replacements. We just don't have the numbers to stand hoof to talon with these griffons.

We've all been promoted. Cap went up to major; we still call him Cap though. I've gone up from second to first lieutenant, and Flash is now a gunnery sergeant. I know, crazy how many ranks he jumped, but all our good enlisted guys bit it in the invasion, so he was all that was left. I'm glad it's him though. We were all right to assume that he was the best of us all.

He's taken to carving notches in the stock of his machine gun. He's up to thirty-two already.

He convinced me to do the same, and my rifle now has three nicks in its stock. It's amazing how accurate these rifles are. Holding it with the G.R.I.W.P.s, and looking down the scope, it's almost a romantic feeling holding the weapon. Mine's a suppressed assault rifle. I don't know why it's suppressed, they just gave it to me in boot camp and told me it was mine. I like shooting targets with it, but killing is different.

I don't like it. Killing isn't what I thought it would be like. Flash treats it like a game, and he almost looks like he's having fun when we go into combat, but with me, it's like a small part of me dies with each griffon I shoot. It makes me worried, and sometimes I have doubts.

I mean, is it a problem with me? Am I somehow different than Flash? I don't know, but what I do know is that I need to make these next two days count. The replacements will be here within forty-eight hours, and then it's right back into the fire.

I've learned to blend in fairly well, and even though I feel all these things, none of the others know. To them, I'm just another cold blooded killer from Recon. I'd like to be, but I'm not, but that won't stop me from completing my duty. I signed up to do this job, and I intend to see it through.

I can't write any more right now, and I don't know if I'll be able to write again for a while. I'll try; I promised I'd use this thing, but things might get dicey here pretty quick.

P.S. Happy Hearth's Warming Eve. Enjoy it, because I'm at war to ensure that you can.

October 13, One Thousandth Year of The Sun

Two years. It's hard to believe that's how long we've been out here; well at least for Flash and me. Most of the guys in the original unit are dead or gone, casualties of bullets or shell shock. The only difference between us and them is that we've kept our heads. Sometimes I think this journal is the only thing that keeps me sane, and in that matter, alive.

We've taken up a new A.O. deeper inland. We've pushed the griffons back into the last quarter of the country, and it's only a matter of time before they retreat. They're running low on supplies, and each day their numbers dwindle.

Miles got here a few weeks ago. He's not the same little colt brother I've known for so long. When I got the letter nine months ago saying he signed up, I was worried he wouldn't be able to handle what goes on out here, but not anymore.

He's not green like he was when he got out here. Ever since he held his own during the griffons' assault a week ago, he's had the respect of the others. He earned the title of 'marine', and he's fitting in just fine. The others like him. I guess the runt of the litter actually turned out to be the best between the three of us.

Hay, I thought I had it figured out. I always assumed I was the brains and Flash was the brawn, but Miles is both. I never realized it before. I guess that's what I get for missing the better half of his foalhood.

It's kind of funny. When Flash and me were shipping out for the first time, Mom made me promise to protect Flash, and to protect Miles when he got out there too. I promised her in advance that I would bring them both back. But now that we're actually out here, they're the ones protecting me more than anything. Miles saved my rump during the attack a week ago, and Flash has been doing that since we got here.

I don't know. I guess we've kept each other safe this whole time now that I think about it, but it's hard in this line of work. The guys are dropping like flies.

Even Cap got hit the other day. They carried him out with three legs still in tact, but none of the others have heard anything about him since. I'm worried. He's lead our unit since Normanedy, and morale's low with him gone. Now, we're all just wondering who it'll be next. Probably one of the replacements; they never seem to last.

I was next in line. I'm the new Captain. Now it's up to me to lead these marines. I just hope I don't get any of them killed.

Not much has really changed other than the fact that now, I get to wear an extra stripe on my sleeve, which just puts a big bullseye between my eyes. I would be worried, but Archer team finally nailed that sniper that's been posting up outside the wire. They got his rifle, and it's hanging in the barracks like a freaking trophy. That makes three dozen kills this month for our HOGs.

It's crazy to think that Flash could have been one of them. Hay, he's the best shot in the company, and he's racked up the most kills of any of us, but he always says he wouldn't leave us for anything, and I've got to respect him for that. Still, he's the deadliest soldier I've ever met. His MG's stock has well over three hundred nicks in it, almost one every day since we've arrived.

But hey, I think I kinda like being Captain Gale Force; it sounds better than Lieutenant.

Like I said, not much has changed other than my rank though, other than the fact that now I'm in charge of Foxtrot Recon platoon instead of just Charlie squad. My own little chunk of the Fightin' First.

Anyway, I had some down time, the first time in months, so I wanted to write a bit. After all, we're close to the end. We're coming off the line in a week. I can't tell the others; I don't want to instill false hope. Finally, we're leaving Germaneigh. We'll be home soon.

But, before we can leave, command wants to get the most it can out of us. The entire Corps is conducting a massive attack on the griffons' last line of defense before their border.

We've been tasked with taking out a pair of fortifications that defend a fire support base and their command post too, which the First in bulk will be hitting after we take it out.

We're getting paired up with a few Archer teams for this one; they should make things a bit easier. But still, this is Miles' first assault, and he's been worried sick since we got the news. He's never been in a large scale battle before.

I've been put in charge of running the op; I just hope I can succeed without getting anypony killed.

Author's Notes:

Hey guys. Thanks for reading. I hope you liked it. More is on its way soon.