Diary of an Imperial Grunt
Prologue:
Blood, Sweat & Tears
The Chronicles of 1st Lieutenant Tarn Stone, Commander of 1st Platoon of 1st Company, of the 113th Armageddon Conscript Battalion attached to the 777th Motorised Regiment, 77th Armageddon Steel Legion (The 77th Steel Legion has 4 Motorized Regiments, 1 Armoured Regiment, and 1 Artillery Regiment, each regiment has 1 conscript battalion attached to it.
This is the story of one such battalion and the men and women of that battalion who faithfully serve the God Emperor on the front lines in the seemingly endless war against the hordes of the Dark Powers.
Factory Sector 16, Razalon Hive, Industrial World of Valensburg Prime, the Baphomet Star System, Segmentum Obscurus. Imperial Date – 41st Millennium, 999th Year, 6th Month, 20th Day, Midnight.
I had thought that being conscripted into the Steel Legions of Armageddon would mean we got to fight in our own war on our own planet against the Ork hordes that had invaded our beloved world. I had not counted on the mentality of High Command. Whose bright idea was it to send us to this unimportant backwater hellhole when our own world was literally swamped in blood, sweat and tears? They had sent a full legion to help pacify these chaos worshipping scum of the Imperium. Why they hadn't simply had the sense to virus bomb the planet from orbit was beyond my ability to try and reason the ridiculous situation we now found ourselves in.
We had entered Razalon Hive only yesterday and already I regretted ever having stepped foot on this cesspit of a world. We were not the only ones to have been assigned to the Valensburg Campaign. We had seen a whole division of thieving, scrounging Savlar Chem Dogs, over thirty thousand of the worst scum the Imperium had to offer. It was a small blessing that they were on our side. It still didn't stop them stealing anything that wasn't nailed down. There was a regiment of Kanak Skull Takers, six thousand Rough Riders strong, hardly suited to the cramped confines of a hive city, but from what I had heard of them they were ferocious and near feral fighters who took the heads of their enemies. There was a division of the toughest guardsmen the Imperium had at its disposal, The Death Korps of Krieg, over thirty thousand of the sturdiest troops on the planet.
In total there was supposed to be a further ten divisions, although Razalon Hive was stretched over fifty miles by eighty miles meaning it was going to be easy to lose entire divisions in the concrete jungle of Razalon. It meant the Imperial Guard High Command had committed over four hundred thousand troops to purge the chaos filth from the world of Valensburg. But first things first; we had a capital city to liberate from the heathen dogs of chaos.
Our journey into the outskirts of the city was made all the easier by still loyal divisions of the Planetary Defence Force. In total six divisions, almost two hundred thousand men had held out in the capital city, protecting the governor general and most of the loyal members of the Razalon aristocracy. They had been forced into a twenty mile wide, thirty mile long strip of the city with the vast population of hundreds of millions either having fled the city or taking sides with either the loyalists or the chaos led masses. From what I had seen of the masses they were a sorry looking bunch. I wondered if the chaos filth worshippers known as Nurgle were present. The hospitals were apparently as full of disease victims as they were of casualties of war.
To say the city was a ruin was something of a glaring understatement. Everywhere I looked there was barely a building standing in one piece. We, that is the 113th Conscript Battalion, had been given orders to fortify Factory Sector 16. It was the most forward position of the entire battlefront. It was a mile wide stretch of manufactories and factory workers' hab domes. Most of which had long since been laid to ruin by the constant pounding of enemy guns. Between us and the enemy was a four hundred metre wide charnel pit where nothing lived and only the corpses of thousands littered the crater scarred streets. We had been assigned to reinforce elements of the 12th Planetary Defence Division, more precisely 1st battalion of the 44th PDF Regiment, as the division was spread out over five miles of defensive battlefront. Of the battalion's original two thousand troopers, only eight hundred and forty three remained on the front line, six hundred and eighty were dead, the rest were receiving treatment for battle wounds at one of the many full to capacity hospitals on the loyalist side of the line.
We had already settled into our bunkers and defensive positions. Heavy weapons teams looked out into no-mans-land waiting for something to destroy with their missile launchers. For the rest of us grunts it would simply be a waiting game, waiting for something to shoot at, perhaps the next suicidal charge against our lines. It had happened three times in the twelve hours we had been here. There were thousands of fanatical worshippers throwing themselves into the fray, or rather getting shot in a hail of las fire that annihilated anything in its path. I had deployed my platoon in a ruined hab dome, or more specifically Hab Dome 131 on the corner of Highway 99 and Chancellors Court. The building was about a hundred and fifty metres across and had once stood over one hundred storeys high. Now it was a simple ruin, blasted down to its first floor with plasteel and plascrete covering the area for hundred of metres in every direction. In front of us was a patchwork barrier of razor wire and pillboxes for heavy weapon emplacements. Behind us were the other three hundred men of first company.
I cursed our luck continually, who did we have to thank to be stuck out here next to no-mans-land with sixty troopers and a handful of planetary defence troopers who had had the misfortune of being positioned here for the past month with little sign of reinforcement until we had arrived. And that was another fact I had reason to complain about, when the battles involving the 77th Steel Legion were written about, it would be the 777th Motorized Regiment that would take credit for any battlefield successes we were likely to have and yet where were they. The lord colonel in his infinite wisdom had kept the entire regiment in reserve, almost twenty miles behind our position along with our troop transports and Leviathan Command Centre. It didn't exactly inspire confidence when the colonel and his entire command with the exception of the only conscript battalion was twenty miles behind the frontlines doing nothing except battle drills and keeping the local female population company.
At least that's what I believed they were doing, but I couldn't help myself, if there was something to complain about it needed to be said. But mostly I just kept my grievances to myself and my sergeants. My second in command was Veteran Sergeant Gravus Rork, a man of average build and unremarkable features with the exception of his white beard and handlebar moustache. He was the squad leader of 1st squad and the most senior sergeant in the platoon. He was a reliable and quiet man who could be trusted in battle to make up for the platoon's lack of experience, including my own. We had been a battalion for less than a year, and with only one previous minor skirmish to our name we were in need of men like Rork for their years of dedication and experience on the front line. I came into this fight with sixty men under my control. I intended to leave with as many of them as possible. It was a fact that in war there are always casualties, but I would not throw them away needlessly.
I couldn't help but think the colonel had very little regard for the 113th Battalion. We were as much a part of his command as anyone in the regiment, but we were the ones given the grunt work that made us the expendable dregs, the unwanted conscripts that the colonel was forced to bring along because High Command had decided to team a battalion of conscripts with every regiment. We would be the first into battle, of that I was certain. Only when we had mopped up the worst of the enemies attack would he commit his precious regiment to the fight.
The men had done a good job of building make shift shelters with the debris scattered all around us. We had to be careful with the enemy being so close but we had help from a squadron of Gorgon Assault Vehicles, their front mounted bulldozer blades perfect for stacking debris into usable defensive positions while their heavily armoured bulk protected the troopers from enemy fire. It was all we could do at present, fortify ourselves the best way we could for the inevitable assaults that would follow in the weeks ahead.
The PDF seemed pleased to have us alongside them. They had fought a bitter and bloody war with no sign of help until now. They were heavily dug in throughout the sector. The Gorgons had been busy building barricades all along the edge of no man's land. Tons of rubble had been piled into effective barriers from where heavy weapons teams and troopers were to hold back the tide of evil that lay just four hundred metres away from us. The danger was only too clear as the enemy opened up with las guns, autoguns, mortars and light artillery.
I immediately ordered the platoon to take their positions behind the defences, and to keep their heads down unless we were assaulted. An artillery shell exploded with a blinding blast that took out one of the PDF heavy weapons teams. The two men were shredded into pieces, their bodies torn apart by the blast. Within minutes the return fire had begun. Hundreds of Basilisks opened up from the safety of their positions behind our lines. The noise was deafening and the shock of impacts landing just across from our positions was somewhat bewildering. The heavy artillery lived up to its nickname 'Earthshakers'. Buildings and defensive positions were blasted apart as the artillery found their targets. There was no doubt that the enemy would have no choice but to seek shelter from the vicious bombardment. The PDF opened up with their heavy weapons, missiles, las cannons and heavy bolters. All along the line we could see activity as the withering firepower took its toll on the defenders. Then it turned into a free-for-all. The enemy opened up with seemingly everything they had.
I dived behind the nearest barricade as a hail of las bolts chewed up the dirt around me. Within seconds I had ordered the men to return fire. The familiar flash-bang of dozens of las rifles followed the order, adding their considerable firepower to the massive bombardment that engulfed the enemy's front lines. It must have been something of a shock to suddenly face the combined firepower of an entire legion's artillery. The PDF possessed little in the way of armour support or artillery, relying mostly on their infantry to hold back the treacherous filth who had sided with the chaos scum.
They had done a commendable job considering their relatively light armaments, most of their remaining armour support was kept in reserve behind the lines, while their remaining artillery added its own firepower to that of the Imperial Guard divisions that were now moving into place. The worrying thing was that by all accounts the Ruinous Powers were growing in number. Reports suggested that hundreds of thousands were going over to the enemy with each passing day, either swayed by the unlikely promises of wealth and power or simply by infecting the people with the taint of chaos.
I spied the enemy lines through my magnoculars. There was definite movement and signs of armour appearing behind the lines. I was amazed anything could live through the terrible onslaught that was being inflicted upon them. But they continued to return fire with a renewed vigour that showed their now inhuman nature. They were driven by powers best left unmentioned, the hatred, lust for battle and shear depravity of the enemy would ensure that the Imperial Guard fought a bitter and uncompromising war, no one would dare to think of surrender knowing the fate that would await them if they were unfortunate enough to be taken alive by the enemy.
What everyone would undoubtedly dread was the prospect of the close-quarters street war that would erupt once the Imperial Guard were ordered forward to assault the front lines. While I had no doubt that we could overrun their frontlines, I was less certain about the building to building fighting that would break out afterwards. It would be certain to cost both sides a great deal of casualties. As for the civilian population that remained, I believed they were now lost to the Imperium. The taint would have taken many and would still be working its evil influence as it brought evermore once loyal citizens to fight against the Imperium. If only we had arrived sooner, perhaps much of the city could have been saved, but the influence of chaos had spread like wildfire through the communities of Razalon Hive.
I looked across from my position just in time to see one of the PDF boys take a shot to the eye, boring a hole through the back of his head. There must have been snipers on the upper floor of the ruined manufactories and hab domes opposite our position. The area of no-mans-land had been all but cleared of buildings, at least ones that were still in any kind of usable condition. But they did make excellent snipers nests and emplacements for heavy weapons. I concentrated on the ruins, looking for any sign of movement or weapons fire. Another PDF trooper took a shot to the throat and fell to the floor breathlessly and trying desperately to gasp for air. He slumped forward moments later, bleeding out behind the barricade that had provided him with nothing more than his open grave.
I tracked the shot back to a hab dome some four hundred and fifty metres away. Within seconds I had contacted the platoon's vox operator and had him call in an artillery strike on the building. The roar of the Earthshaker guns tore overhead and into the ruined hab dome bringing the building crashing to the earth in a spectacular explosion that engulfed everything around it for tens of metres in all directions. It was just one of many that day. The enemy never seemed to learn from their mistakes, settling for taking pot-shots at us and the PDF and receiving barrage after barrage from the heavy artillery guns in return.
By nightfall we had taken eight casualties in the platoon, all were wounded, two of them seriously. Several hours of attention by the platoon's medics had six of the men back on their feet and ready to continue fighting if the need arose. The other two were transported to the regiment's field hospital for the more intense treatment they could offer than the frontlines. I guess they were really the lucky ones. We had to stay out in this Emperor-forsaken hellhole with the enemy taking shots at us every minute of the day.