This a wee story I came up with while reading the second Eisenhorn book so there might be some similarities. Don't judge me, "imitation is the highest form of flattery".
It was the usual day on the front. Mud, rain, wind, mud, mud and more mud. Corporal Wayne of regiment J of the Gothan 656s of the imperial guard pulled his trench coat tight around himself. Pulling his scope from his pocket he gazed out over no mans land.
"Lucas I want you to send a message to command, I need you to inform them that the enemy appears to building strange structures all along their front lines. They may be susceptible to a bombing run.
"Yes sir" squeaked Lucas adjutant as ran from the corporal's side to the vox caster stationed in a nearby dugout.
"Let's see if we can't make a mark on these bastards," growled Wayne.
1 hour later
"Sir regimental command has sent a return message, it reads 'request acknowledged air strike inbound ETA 1 hour. Will consist of three marauders will be dropping melta bombs." Said Lucas his voice rising in pitch with excitement
"Excellent. Circulate the news, tell the men to be prepared for a light show," shouted Corporal Wayne.
55 minutes later
The news had spread fast. Every guardsman that could, had rushed to the forward trenches, eyes straining out over no mans land to try and see the intended target. Wayne had gathered his lieutenants together to join him in a glass of amasec to celebrate such an event. They stood upon the fire step scopes trained on the enemy lines. Every man and woman waited expectantly to hear the drone on engines. When the sound of marauder engines reached the lines a great cheer came up from the imperial line. When they finally saw the bombers an even greater cheer erupted from the lines.
"a majestic sight are they not," cheered corporal Wayne.
"indeed they are sir," shouted his second command over the increasing sound of the marauder engines "but sir they seem to be flying extremely low,"
"nonsense they are at the correct height" laughed Wayne.
Wayne raised his glass miming clinking glasses with the pilot of the plane. Bringing his glass to his lips he took a sip, glancing down at the glass in his hand "my that's some good-"he stopped mid sentence a swirl of red had appeared in his drink. Reaching up to touch his ace his hand came away covered in blood "what the fuck, what fuck is going on," he glanced around everyone now sported bleeding noses some even had blood spurting out of their tear ducts "I haven't seen anything like this since that warp storm-"spinning out to face the enemy lines his worst fears were confirmed the towers had become swathed in energy sending out great flashes of lightning "Psyker tricks, the marauders will be able to take care of them," Wayne said however they was no certainty in his voice. He turned again to look at the marauders they were now lower and moving much faster. It was a bombing run ,they were moving to low for an effective run on the enemy lines that meant the were going to bomb, "everyone get into cover get into " he stopped short as he saw the first bomb detach itself from the plane, time seemed to slow down. He saw the bomb begin to fall, he saw the guiding fins slide from the rear section, he saw the after burner kick in. the marauder screamed over head, inside the cockpit he saw the pilot, blank eyed and slack jawed.
Corporal wayne fell to his knees. He saw the bomb arch through the air and impact into the front line of guardsman. They were all vaporised in a nuclear reaction that was hotter than the centre of a sun. nothing would be left except a smoking crater. Wayne was still watching the place where his friends and comrades had stood. Everyone of them loyal to the emperor and ready to lay there lives for him, all gone in a single instant. He was still looking when a second mela bomb flew right into his trench. In his last microsecond of thought he thought he saw the bomb explode and blossom out into a sun like explsosion. As the marauders dropped their final bombs the pilots were released from their psychic controlling. They were going to fast and were to low and even they were not confused and half catatonic from the psychic invasion they would have been unable to do anything about it. The bombers crash down into the ground between the chaos lines and where the j regiment of the Gothan 656s had been.