>The last time I felt this way I ended up crying by myself. Good thing I brought my Gas mask. The wafts of mustard gas kept blowing over the trenches, never to the point that my skin got the burning, pussing sore they had before, but my eyes... They stinged with the slightest whiff of that shit. And inhaling that was even worse. That putrid gas, it was like the flames of hell on your lungs and nose. Made me feel happy that the open, rotting blisters on my feet only hurt when I used them to walk. Or stand. Still better than crying from the gas.