A sizable reconnaissance force of Tau advances down a forest trail—directly toward an Imperial recon force.

“The problem with surviving was that you ended up with the ghosts of everyone you’d ever left behind riding on your shoulders.” —Paolo Bacigalupi, M2 philosopher

*  *  *

 I survive yet another clusterf***

Pvt. Tyesha Levers

Private Journal,
Pvt. Tyesha Levers
Dated: 3 181 744.M41

I have been putting off this entry for a week. I just couldn’t bring myself to relive what happened at what some are calling “Kroot Hill.” I don’t want to think about it. I won’t want to remember what I saw.

But I must. Although a commissar may one day find this journal and confiscate it—even theoretically have me executed—I’ve promised myself that I would document my time in the Imperial Guard. I know I’ll probably die before I’m mustered out of service, and this journal will be destroyed, yet I cannot bring myself to stop writing . . . if only to help me maintain my sanity in this war-torn galaxy.

The day of 3 166 744.M41 will haunt me for years. As dawn broke, there was nothing to warn me that it would be a dark day for the 4th Depot Platoon. The sky was a pale azure, with almost no clouds in the sky, and the weather was a comfortable 20º C.

For the past two months, our company had been burdened with the 4th . As a depot platoon, it was a holding station–a mix of Cadian and Tallarn recruits who had arrived on Dar Sai and had yet to be assigned to a permanent posting.

That was stupid enough. There was only one Cadian and one Tallarn regiment on the moon, so it should have been simple enough to ship them off to the appropriate regiment. Yet, someone at High command, had decided our front was stretched thin (which it was) and that they’d plug the gap with raw recruits with different weapons, regimental histories, and tactical training.

It was nonsense, but Major Stark decided to dump the 4th Depot on Captain Faltz, who promptly designated it a a reserve platoon. Its men spent most of their time on catch-and-carry missions that involved moving ammo and other supplies.

Of course, none of this did much for the platoon’s morale, and Faltz decided to give the guardsmen a break. A patrol was needed to look for enemy activity near a small crossroads about 10 kilometers to our front. A squad would have been sufficient, but with the 4th down to 21 men, the captain decided he’d send a “reinforced recon unit” to do the honors.

In truth, it should have been a cake walk. Trudge to the crossroads, sniff about some abandoned huts in the area, and get back in time for evening’s meal. Easy-peasey.

Little did we know . . . .

Tallarn troops deploy in the thick forest and struggle to set up a firing line in anticipation of a xeno attack.

A Stupid Surprise

The 4th Depot Platoon also march down a narrow trail. The platoon commander made the mistake of not putting men “on point,” and he paid with his life.

When you go out on patrol, you’re supposed to send two men forward as “point.”

In Baker Company, the point man usually walks about 40 meters ahead of the rest of his unit, with his backup trailing 20 meters behind. (That way, if the point man is taken down by the enemy, the backup can scream bloody murder that the enemy is ahead.)

Well, the commander of the 4th, a Lieutenant Bollard, was still a wet-behind-the-ears officer, with only one significant combat command (at Port Aruna) before his platoon lost more than half its men. That’s why he was given this mission: Give him and his men some field experience—a relatively safe mission that would prepare them for the hard fighting to come.

For whatever reason, Bollard didn’t follow operational rules. He sent 1st Squad down the trail, and he walked behind it with 2nd Squad. I knew it was a screw-up, but I wasn’t expecting trouble, and even Commissar Tycho, who decided to come along, obviously didn’t bother to correct the lieutenant.

I was troubled by the lack of a point man. But I’d been ordered to tag along—for reasons I can’t begin to fathom—and it wasn’t my place to correct my superiors. So, I allowed myself to fall back to the rear of the column, just in case, and I kept my eyes open.

We marched for about three hours through the heavy forest, following the small trails and dirt roads that slither through the trees. We finally reached the crossroads and the small assembly of huts that passed for a village. That’s when the shit hit the fan. Not 50 meters away, marching towards us on the same trail we walked, appeared a Kroot.

Somebody in 1st Squad cried out a warning, and guardsmen scattered into the woods around us. At the first sign of trouble, I was in the woods before most of the platoon began moving.

We’d walked right into trouble.

The Imperial troops set up a firing line along the edge of the woods, hoping to use the clearing ahead as a killing zone. When half the Kroot maneuvered to the right, in a bid to outflank the Imperials, 4th Platoon had a narrow window of opportunity to launch an attack on one flank of the divided Kroot force and catch the xenos unsupported. The commanding officer dithered, and the result was disaster.

Hesitation Leads to Disaster

Only a handful of shots were fired in the five minutes or so after we ran into the Kroot. Sgt. Maddox of 1st Squad led his men into a copse of woods to the left of the trail, while Sgt. Devren and Lt. Bollard moved to the right of the trail. With everyone moving into position under cover, there wasn’t much to target.

Once we got into position, however, it was obvious the Kroot were deploying as well. To the left, the Kroot could occasionally be seen advancing through the woods. More worrisome, however, was the howls of Kroot Hounds, a decidedly unwelcome sound given the ferocity of the xeno beasts.

The woods made it hard for me to find a good position. There was a patch of grassland between the two forces, and I positioned myself alone the edge of some brush where I had a good view of the ground the xenos would have to cross. I’d be able to take down a few if they decided to attack.

I had a micro-vox in my ear, so I could eavesdrop on the tactical channel of the lieutenant and sergeants. That gave me a head’s up on what the tactical plan was.

It wasn’t much. Lt. Bollard  just ordered the squads to huddle down and wait to see what the Kroot were doing.

Such hesitation, far removed from the aggressive and confident decisions I’d seen Captain Faltz exhibit, left me uneasy.

We were to suffer from the lieutenant’s lack of initiative. Unbeknownst to us, the Kroot had divided their forces. On the left, the Kroot were advancing with a lot of noise, drawing our attention. On the right, however, there was only the occasional rifle fire from the enemy. The majority of the Kroot were sliding farther to our right, seeking to turn our flank.

Then the shit hit the fan.

Click here to read story’s conclusion.

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The Corvus Cluster is a Warhammer 40K blog documenting our gaming adventures in the fantastical sci-fi universe of Games Workshop.