Half-Patch soldiers

It was cold on the plains at night, something someone would only consider strange after seeing the war that had been raging on it for nearly a month. After all the ordinance, the lasers and plasma, and the hot sticky blood running from ten thousand corpses anyone would be surprised by the cold.

These were the thoughts going through Corporal Julius's mind as he squatted on the plain waiting for his squad mates to get the a fire started by the light of a glow-globe. He looked around at their faces, two weeks ago he had never even known they existed, but now he felt as if he had known them all his life. The war here on some forsaken world in Segmentum Ultima had been going on for near two months, ever since the Greenskins showed up in this sector. Julius didn't even know the name of this sector, he wasn't important enough too know, but he was still here to defend it. In those two months of Emperor forsaken war almost a quarter of the Imperial forces sent here to stop them were dead, wounded, or missing and the Ork horde was only getting bigger.

The problem was they had no air support. The Ork fleet above the planet was too big to risk sending down many aircraft other than landing craft. Without that, they had no real way to pursue a weakened horde and destroy it after a battle, and the Orks just kept coming back stronger. What was worse was that the Orks had no such problems, they were constantly harried during the day by Ork planes and bombers. The only good thing about it was the Orks were such bad aim you were more likely to die from the planes wreckage crashing on you than from their bombs.

Julius's regiment, well if you could call it that, had been hastily put together two weeks ago from the remains of over a dozen regiments that had been decimated. Julius was one of only eighteen survivors of his regiment and none of the others were in his squad. The newly appointed Colonel of the regiment decreed that all the old regiments were to be broken up, that way it avoids them forming rivalries with survivors of other regiments. Julius's squad was a very mixed bag of different regiments.

Millius was the Sargent, a tough old bastard from some feral Death world somewhere. He didn't know jack about half the equipment the squad had and preferred fighting with a big axe from his home world than a las gun. What he did know was how to command a squad. He could tell how you were just from glancing at you and spot a hole in the enemy lines from 200 meters.

Julius himself was the second in command as the second longest serving member. Going on three years in the Guard, he had made it through two wars in the past but both paled in comparison to this one.

Manny and Benny were the only ones to have come from the same regiment. Twins to some apparently uncreative parents they worked the heavy bolter. Manny carried and loaded the thing while Benny aimed. They were probably the most cheerful of the squad, always quick to make a joke, keep up the morale.

Mad Lad was the youngest of the squad, a bratty young soldier from Krieg. He was called Mad Lad because he never told anyone his name, he might not have one if the stories of the soldiers from Krieg are true. Anytime he talked it was either a prayer to the God-Emperor, or about killing the Orks. Real creepy kid.

Krist was the only female of the squad and probably the toughest after Millius. Real close with the Sargent too, though anyone who made any jokes about it came to regret it quickly. She carried an actual bolter for a weapon, one sized for regular humans and was a damn good shot with it. Looked good and would probably have half the men in the company after her if it weren't for Millius, that and her morbid skill at looting the dead.

Ivan was a Cadian but not from Cadia, (which didn't make a lot of sense to Julius). Armed with standard gear, and with a bland personality to match, Julius had met soldiers like him before. There was always at least one in every company.

Phyyr was the last, the squad's medic. Last man of his original Regiment, he tended to keep to himself, but that was something Julius could understand. He had talked with him before, apparently the reason he was the last was he ran out of medical equipment a week into the fighting. Being the last man, knowing you could have saved at least some of them if only you had the bandages. Julius couldn't imagine what he had gone through.

There had been two others, Kirk and Mica. They died a few hours before during the end of the battle, a stray rocket, only seconds before the firing stopped. They still hadn't spoken about it. They had buried the bodies in silence, even Millius had been silent. He sat opposite Julius around the still cold scraps of wood that Ivan was doing his best to light with knife and flint. The sky above was black with clouds, the cold wind coming in from the north bringing them with the cold.

Finally, a spark took hold of the scraps and kindled into a tiny flame, reflexively Ivan dropped down to shield it from the harsh wind and gently blow on it. Feeding it more and more till finally it lit the larger pieces and the squad all scooted closer till they were all touching in order to get as much warmth as they could. For a moment they continued their silence, then Millius spoke, finally breaking the quiet.

"All right, got fire now. At least that means warm food. Ante up," he told them drawing out a large black pot from his gear and putting it on the fire. Glad to have something to think of the squad began murmuring as they drew out stuff for tonight's dinner from their packs. "You and me Julius," Millius said as he drew out his canteen. Taking the hint, Julius also took out his and together they dumped the contents into the pot. Getting water meant the long walk to the Quartermaster and it counted as much as food for the dinner.

Stirring the makeshift stew, Manny looked over at Kirst. "Not going to have much taste tonight," he commented. "Come on Kirst, ante up, I know you're close with the Quartermaster." The other men looked into the pot, nobody had put in anything with much more flavor than the water it was boiling in.

Kirst hesitated, "I dunno, my birthday's next week and I was hoping to save it," she said.

Benny looked over at her, "Alrite," he said, "but if I don't make it that long and die without tasting another good meal, I'm going to complain to the God-Emperor about you." This managed to get a smile from everybody except Mad Lad.