My Name is Gregory Urchif, I'm an Imperial Guardsman of the Valhalla 281st, my rank and serial number is Corprol 138364891676, but none of that really matters. I'm currently sitting here in a tree, waiting for the slightest chance for an important target to make an appearance, but no enemy is in sight, none what so ever. So I sit here in the freezing cold with only a peice of paper, a pen, a blanket, and a bottle of Vodka to keep me company. I'm here in this frozen wasteland wishing i could go home, to another frozen wasteland, but that wasteland, is my home, with a wife and kid waiting there. So I write a letter to my family while waiting for the enemy, what else does this marksman do when there is nothing to shoot. They give me a sniper rifle 7 years ago when my company's last sniper died, and I've lasted these long 6 years on this Ork infested shit-hole, with Commissar breathing down my neck and a company of 60 men to watch over, literaly. I just want to go home, it's not my falt I'm the best damn soldier in this part of the galaxy.

Wait hold that thought... there's something moving by that ridge, no one is scheduled to partrol there for at least another 3 hours...

I stash away my letter and pen into my inner coat pocket and stash my drink into crevice in tree. I shoulder my rifle and peer down the scope. Orks, and it looks to be a small squad of about 10 shoota-boyz, most likely a scouting party or their just lost. Either way I could care less, they've walked into my woods, and they have to pay the toll for passage.

BOOM!

the first round fired hit the largest in the group, heh, now to keep still while they figure amongst themselves who's the strongest. "Heh, stupid animals, it's like hunting a pack of feral dogs," I said to myself, as I looked down my scope once again, and saw that one of them had won the brawl for control, and squeezed the trigger.

BOOM!

Damn the kick on this thing is terrible... and it's loud. "Brain salad, my favorite," I chuckled to myself, maybe this was the only thing that kept me going was this sick and twisted humor that I found in the pain of others, or it's just the alcohol mixed with gasoline talking to me.

Boom!

Now they were getting the idea that they were being shot at. The had taken cover behind anything large enough to cover their large muscular forms, which wasn't very well to begin with

Boom! Boom!

Never again, my should is about to fall off now! I reloaded my weapon and then my radio sparked to life and nearly blew my left ear to hell.

"Emergency Broad cast on all Imperial Broadcasting Channels! This is Outpost Gamma! I'm Force Command Shall of the Imperial Space Marines Iron Fists! The enemy has Has just comenced an all out WAAGH!!!!" the radio cut silent with after a second of scream, yells and gun fire. I looked down my scope to see the Orks that i had been fireing upon were running away, or running to join their comrades.

"Damn Orks," I said as my radio sparked to life as my Commissar barked order's over my Regiment's radio frequency.

"All guardsmen of the 281st, report back to base, that's right all 500 of you report back to Outpost Delta." I sighed as i slung my sniper rifle over my shoulder and climbed down my perchin the tree and started trudging through the forest before I realized, I left my drink in the tree!

I cursed but decided to trug on, it was better that I wasn't late, or the Commissar would make me an example of disciplinary action. It took me almost an hour to get to base, well most people wouldn't call it a base, actually they'd call it an over-sized snow-fort that a bunch of kids with to much time on their hands made. That was far from the truth, we Valhallan Ice Warriors are the best at making defense with snow and ice, this fortress has survived many a waves of enemy attacks, and has never fallen.
I Came up to the main gate and the two guardsmen that were on watch nodded to me as I walked up. "It is good to see you're still alive comrade Urchif, you usually spend days out their in the wilderness with only a blanket and the clothing on your back," laughed the senior of the two, the man was Vladimir Gruin, a veteran of the Valhallan Defense force when the Orks last attacked our home-world.

"That is a story for another time, I need to show up for parade, i don't want to anger the Commissar," I laughed back, I eyed the younger Guardsman, he looked to be about 16, I was about that age when I first joined the Guard, most Valhallan boys do around that age.

"Right right, I'll let you in, but it's your turn to buy the drinks for when we go on leave next summer," laughed Guardsman Gruin as he opened the gate.

"Sure, after the welcome home party the family back home gives us!" I chuckled as I walked through the gate. I walked into the main square and saw that it was very crowded with Tanks, Artillery crews and soldiers flustering about, I had to actually ask directions to were my company was gathered at. The other 59 men of my Company looked up as I entered the barracks, they all looked sad and anguished, like they had been ordered to stand in front of the firing line and then I heard the crunching of boot on snow right behind me, I was afraid to turn around, but did so and stood at attention.

"So Comrade Urchif Has decided to join us?" said the Regimental Commissar as he inspected me, "next time you won't be so lucky, you'll be disciplined after we retake Outpost Gamma From the Orks, you're company is the spear head, now I want you ready for the assault in 0200 hours, do you understand me!?"