Frontier//Battleground North, States (Panzer-Kevlar OneTwoFour)
The tanks are holding. Never knew Glisson's millitary strength could outrival us... Us, the Panzers! As if we were mere militants. It doesn't feel right. We need food, we need water. We need those to keep us alive. Back home I hear many are dying, and even the Head of State has lesser food on his plate than usual. I don't care about them, but I do care for my own well-being. Our cannons fire slower than theirs, and darned fighters bomb us from above every other day. We've lost more than half of our legion, and Battallion 1103a has been crushed a few clicks away. Even as we fire I feel we are slowly fighting a war we cannot win. A war we cannot hope to push.
I will not stand for this! They are sending us to die! We are starved men fighting fit soldiers. It is all a lie. We are condemned people; condemned to death! Condemned. Condemned.
