This story is fortold by men who makes stands and never fold and it's so old, the enemies call us the “crazy 44â€. So this is were we stand our ground, this is were they die. It's cold as fuck out here and way passed daylight. I walk these trenches daily, it boosts moral. We got scouts everywere so we will never loose our ground, so let´s bury these fucks and then we cover our tracks. We're closely by to HQ and we know our way back. It´s quiet for know now and thay will find us if we leave something behind. We call em zombies cause it's like they keep coming alive. They stick out they heads and our catapults deals with it. This is some of that old fashion good vs. evil- shit. We occupy buildings and keep up a daily routine and we build bio-domes and fill em up with veggies and beans. We will never fall apart, we will never back down. So come try us you racially biased fucks.
