Gas Gas Gas

The bastard Hun.

My god I can hardly breath. This may be it chums. The Hun has unleashed his most vile weapon on us, gas. I've no gas mask, only my handkerchief. I can see the Hun following behind the gas cloud. My god the trench is full of gas. My mate is dead. I'm choking and drowning in my own sputum.

I can't believe this. It can't end like this. I don't want to die.  

If only I can get some air. The swines. Bite some British bullets you bastards.

I can't breathe, oh god.....