As soon as we all woke up, we packed up everything. I was specifically entrusted with the uniforms not one of us wears. We have three outfits on this trip: our military uniform, regular warm white clothes for the snow, and a green warm pair of clothes. They gave us large winter jackets, scarves, newsboy caps, and gloves also. These are our only saving grace in this miserable cold. The only ones that wear the white pair of clothes are the hunters, so it was easy to pack up everything this morning.

  I was approached by Simon when I got done with the uniforms, him saying that he needed help with sorting the medicine. I inquired as to why he wasn't helping them with the food or the tents. Simon is a very strong man and an even better hunter. He told me that he had been told by Daniel to do all things he saw not getting done, so he got the medicine. Of course it was Daniel. He showed me the bag with all the elixirs and vials. A groan escaped me. I do not remember who had the bag last, but whoever did is about to have my wrath visit them. As I was scheming how to best make sure whoever it was not touch the bag again, I saw Angelo walk by. I ushered him over and showed him how to organize all of the medicine. I even let him organize some on his own.

  Soon, we continued on our trek through the snow to the base. The cold makes us all tremble. Even now, I can barely keep my pen warm. It just seems to drop five degrees a day. The cold seeps through our jackets and snow has penetrated our boots. I am afraid our clothing will no longer sustain us, but we shall push through.

  We waded through flatlands today. We could see nothing except the occasional patch of trees. Yuri and Roy held our compass, telling us which direction to travel. That was what we did all day when we were travelling. It was quite deteriorating of the mind and rather boring for how exhausting it is.

  Lawrence talked to me as we walked. He practically chatted my head off. Every few remarks that he made, he mentioned something about the cold or the snow. I had to eventually tell him to stop focusing on it, because it was making everyone in the group colder than we already were. He had a large bag of our firewood strapped to his back and I had medicine, per usual. He rubbed his hands together to keep them warm. The majority of our conversations went something like this:

  "Felix, next time we stop can you check my feet for frostbite? I can feel the snow going down in my boots and it's killing me! I can't stand it any longer," he'd whine. I would tell him that he was being dramatic and I'd check once we had a fire lit tonight.

  "Felix, it hurts. I don't think I'm going to make it to tonight with this cold. You know, I haven't been this cold since the winter I was in Canada. Soon as this war broke out, I wanted to go to Canada and fight with them, but my folks held me back. Looking back on it, it was a blessing. I was real mad at the moment then, though. More than mad. I wouldn't even look at them. God, how I want to apologize now," he'd begin ranting. It would take him another ten minutes to stop. To any more than a minute, I cannot listen to his rants. He jumps about the topics he wants to discuss so very quickly. Not anyone but the Lord can keep up with his mind.

  One conversation of ours, however, greatly intrigues me.

  Lawrence got rather close to me and whispered, "Do you think that it's a good idea to head northwest instead of southeast?"

  I told him it was a good question and both had their advantages and disadvantages. As a soldier, I want to get the mission and war over as quickly as possible. As the doctor of the group, I want to spend up as little medicine as possible, no matter how much longer it took to do. With the cold as unbearable as it is and it only getting worse, we should head southeast in a heartbeat.

  "I think Kimi's death was a bad omen, you know?" Like, no hard feeling or anything toward the guy, but it feels wrong. Do the French believe in bad omens?" Lawrence questioned. I responded that most do and I had talked about them just the other day. Daniel calling me a "Napoleon of a Frenchman" in Russia was a bad omen. It was a sign that only bad things will come. He did seem to vaguely remember this.

  "I don't know much about you French people," he remarked. I admitted that I don't know too much about America, except my parents considered moving there when I was very young.

  Lawrence smiled warmly to this, "I love hearing that. We like you French people, better than the Italians and Irish."

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  I inquired as to why this is, and he told me that he isn't completely sure. He always thought that it is because the Italians and Irish usually are Catholic instead of the American Protestant, but he isn't too sure after meeting me. I am Catholic and they love me. I am not quite sure what he means by this "they" he has been speaking of.

  "Maybe it's because you're a doctor. We really need doctors back at home. Some smaller towns only got one," he explained. I told him it surely isn't why whoever "they" are loves me. I am no doctor. He remarked that I was lying and I am a doctor. I didn't try to fight it this time. There is simply no point.

  Lawrence thought for a long moment, "It's probably got something to do with our revolution. You guys helped us fight the Redcoats with Lafayette. Love Lafayette to death. You know..."

  He continued on a long rant about the American Revolution. I fully believe that all Americans know an obnoxious amount about their short history. Even more so than I do French history. Americans take great pride in all their short line of ancestors have done. To be completely honest, I don't blame them.

  Night soon approached upon us and we had to stop moving due to the bitter cold. We sat down our things with great haste. It was nice to finally have all that weight off of our backs. Yuri called Lawrence, Daniel, and I over to him before the rest of the guys could begin making their way over to us.

  "It is about to snow more. To what extent, I'm not sure. Should we just keep moving for the night and rest later, or just set camp firmly and prepare for the storm?" Yuri asked us three.

  Daniel and Lawrence told him that we should prepare now because we would not know how bad the storm will get and all of our men are exhausted from the day's journey. Whereas, I questioned how he knew it was going to snow. I know that Yuri is Russian and that he would know something like that, but I too want that knowledge of how he does it. One never knows when something will go wrong.

  "The wind, temperature, and... what is it in English? Water in the air?" Yuri explained.

  "Moisture," Daniel offered.

  Yuri then asked me the question he had said prior. The way that he looked made me think for a split second that he values my opinion on this more than the rest of them, but I know that this isn't true. I have no idea as to why I thought this or why it might be true. When I hesitated to answer, he questioned what the doctor in me specifically thought. I told him that with the cold, I needed to check all the men for frostbite and make sure no one would develop it. We also needed to make sure that none of the men turned out exhausted and collapsed from the condition. He ordered all of the guys to set up camp for the next few nights and start a fire. They all lit up with celebration.

  We sat around the warm fire, setting up everything for the next while. Yuri emphasized to them to what extent the snow storm will be, he does not know. Lawrence was the first one who came to me. As soon as I checked his hands, feet, and face out for frostbite, I told him that he should stop being so dramatic and he doesn't have the slightest sign of frostbite. I checked three more of the boys for it. They were Louis, Lucas, and Krishna. Thank God none of them have it. I am afraid that soon many of them will. It is just getting colder and more harsh by the day.

  All of us were soon in our tents. Yuri and Lawrence ordered us to push down the poles of the tents harder than we ever have before. Yuri seems to be more worried about the snow than anyone else. Perhaps tomorrow I will try to ask Igor about it. I will surely find a way to communicate with him. How hard can it be? I've listened to Russian all of my life.

  Everyone is shivering in these tents. Our blankets are hardly enough to keep us warm. I am sure that tomorrow I will have to deal with someone's frostbite. It is a task trying to be something I am not. How did I even end up like this?

  Lawrence has asked to write in my journal today. I am hesitant to give it to him, yet I will. I cannot deny a friend a chance to write. Besides, what fate is there but one where writing is used as a medium to the world around us.

  November 14th, 1918 (by Lawrence)

  I honestly think that there is something wrong with Felix Desmarais. Sure, he's a good guy, but he's got something wrong with his head. He either thinks he's not that good of a medic or that we're doomed. I see it in his eyes. It is very creepy, but what can a guy do about it? I wish he would cheer up and do something relaxing for once. He doesn't have to be so high strung all of the time. Anyone who is has some very serious problems.

  Felix is one of them.

  Felix has been my friend since we met. I am glad that he has been there for me, and I feel as if I need to be there for him. For one, I need to teach him American English. He sounds too formal. He is his own problem. I cannot stand it anymore. Moreover, I'm turning into him. I am using his language, talking like he does, and even writing like he does.

  For where I was born, it is a miracle that I even managed to learn how to write as well as I can. I worked in the factories of Chicago for a very long while. My family didn't have enough to afford the basics of life, so everyone in the house worked except my little sister. Why would she? I made sure that she would never have to deal with the same things I have to. I even went to the army for this. I'm in Russia right now for her. I wish I was back with her and this war was over.

  I wish that all of us met under better circumstances. I wish that Felix immigrated to the states and we met there. He doesn't seem to like France too much. I don't blame him. I don't know too much about his personal life, nor do I want to. However, I am starting to feel a little bad for Felix.