2552.10.20, IN AMBER CLAD— As we were flying in over the city, the shaved sides of the other guys' heads that was just visible under their helmets reminded me how shaved heads were associated with Buddhist monks in the old poetic tradition. I thought of how, what w/ this long & bloody war, this world is indeed a world of suffering. Still, if we thought it wasn't worth fighting for we would've never joined the Corps. If we'd chosen to abandon the world, toughing it out all alone in the mountains of some little fringe world, we would feel like traitors to our race. With that ironic feeling pumping my blood, I burned this verse into my memory so I could write it down when I had a moment of peace.
Our heads newly shaved
We raise arms and turn to face
This world of Regret
Excerpt from the journal of Pte. J.S. Hosokawa.