The found diary of a soldier at the front lines recounts the unimaginable horrors of fighting Christmas.
November 30, 2013
For weeks now we've been at war with the unrelenting Christmas. The men in my regiment are getting restless. Last night I could hear Private Jennings crying out in his sleep, some kind of pained gibberish about "boughs of holly" and "fa la la la la." He's slipping. We're all slipping.
But when I think about those sick, gingerbread loving bastards out there, I know we must press on for the greater good. Christmas will not win.
Dear god. There's something in the air. What is that sickening smell? Is it nerve gas? No, it's a peppermint mocha. Oh hell no. Not on my watch.
Universal Pictures
Paramount Pictures
