Full Metal Pony

These are the recovered entries of Snow hoof, a Private in the EDF, or Equestrian Defense Force, who suffered from war effects, and fell under schizophrenia and, in the end, insanity.

Day 437 of this war. I’ve been through 437 days if pure hell. These.... things, changelings, they're called, they just keep coming. I wonder if they are even organic, like there are factories, just spewing endless hordes of this shape shifting freaks into our world... I have to wonder how my family back home in Canter lot is doing. We had it all there, except worries. We didn’t need to fear having a changeling pounce on you, and rip your skin from your bones, and take your place among friends, and family. This journal is my one piece of sanity left, my one little gem from home. A gift from uncle Ice wing, I never thought I’d actually write in a journal... then I was drafted, and here I am, middle of fucking nowhere. Just waiting for an ambush to take me away from here, to a better place...

Journal of Pvt. Snow hoof, day 575
Well, as if it wasn't bad enough, i have been relocated to an outpost even DEEPER into his hellhole of a land. These outposts used to make me feel so safe as a foal. Now I dread to catch a sight of one, knowing what they are going through. It scares you, the first time you are on guard duty, the birds are chirping and squirrels jumping around, and they all just stop. Dead silence. You know that something somewhere has startled them. You can only pray to Celestia it was not a Changeling attack party. These outposts, they aren’t made to withstand attacks like those things can bring. All you may have time to do is report you’re being attacked, and your location, before it's all over. I’ve seen it happen, it is only a matter of minutes before every pony is dead, and where there was once a small camp, lies mass bloody bodies. As a field medic, I’ve had some bad ones come my way. One time, a unicorn had gotten into melee combat with a changeling. There were gobbets of flesh just torn from her body, blood gushing everywhere. Where the teeth has sunk through her leg, the flesh was a rotting grey, and her face... it was her face that gave me the nightmares. She took a crossbow bolt to the head. The entire right side of her face was gone, leaving a pulped moon. Her skull jutted out like broken glass, and the blood had rushed into her only good eye, rendering it useless. Times like those quiet nights I wish I hadn't made the choices I did.

Journal of Pvt. Snow hoof, day 618.
Mail day... every pony’s favorite time, letters from home, family and friends... I got mail ONE time, from a friend. I had accidentally packed one of his things, and he wanted it back. Not asking how I was doing, if I was even alive... just a request to send my only reminder of him back home. Back home, where it's safe... It's only three o'clock in the damn morning and already we have reports of causalities stacking up from raids on outposts, and supply caravans. These changelings are getting clever now...
[The text in this entry was written with an unsteady hand, and not all is legible]
Jo...al of Pv. Sn...oof, da. 8..
It's b... .ays sin.. and I t..nk I Co.. .ust kil. .o.ethin. I ha..'t ..en been c..cked .n in tw..nty days...
the feeli... of n.. b..ng rem....ered ea.. at my v..ry s..ni.y...

All further text has become nonsensical, and completely unreadable. Welcome to the Equestrian Defense Force.