Specialists in Atrociousness

I think I can say the worst quality of the Legion is also their best one when compared to us. So many times before going out into no man's land, a trooper prays that they won't get captured, or be given back, regardless of which particular job he's doing. I thought that myself when going on wire teams, and trapper teams, but especially when I went on the occasional recovery team. You see a trooper from another company only a few days ago paling around off the line end up as a dehydrated and barely conscious mess with a proximity mine strapped to him. He shouts, "Get Away!" just as he sees you walk up before detonating. Like I said chapters ago, the trooper was listed as dead the moment he was captured, so what happens in no man's is just to show whoever sees the detonation what is coming.

Me and most of the other Forlorn Hope veterans who've survived this long were fairly used to that. Though it was terrorizing to anyone who just arrived from a different Mojave station, it was just standard procedure for us. A soul cries when they see a thing like that, but Veteran Forlorn Trooper Bob collects all the recognizable parts in a sack, sees if the tags are intact, and collects whatever survived the blast as best as he could. All while doing this, he awaits a shot from the southern cliffs that may or may not come depending on how the legionary on watch is feeling that morning.

The trooper and the recovery team then drag whoever they find up the winding path, and unload the sacks of the mangled in the Doc's tent. After cataloguing the identity (If available), the sacks are taken to the graveyard overlooking the Colorado, a hole is dug, and the trooper wonders where the burial flags are.

An HQ trooper smoking a cigarette by the cemetery reads the recovery boys' minds and says, "Shipment's late, or got hit."

The recovery team then buries any trooper (Or the remains) in that cemetery, and walks to the company officer in charge of that recovery detail. Along the way, a trooper on reserve asks his buddy in the passing recovery detail, "Who ya find out there today?"

That trooper then responds with something along the lines of, "No clue. Explosion got rid'a his name too. But I think it might'a been Corporal Smith since he wasn't on a cross."

The reserve trooper says, "Good riddance. Fella shorted me on a pack last week."

The two then exchange a dry, dead, yet somehow still jovial chuckle. All the while, a few new troopers straight from Shady stare into nothing at the casual tone of the horror described. The young privates are crying inside, planning the letters to send home, planning out their wills, and wondering:

"Am I gonna end up a mutilated and unrecognizable mess, casually joked about by troopers who lost their sympathy?"

Answer: Probably. That, or they'll become one of those casual troopers.

So, the recovery troopers meet with the officer in charge of the detail and run down their list of confirmed kills found and cross reference that with the roster of who didn't return from that 100 Yard or Raid squad. When all the records are settled, the detail collects the fallen troopers' wills or remaining letters from their squad tent's footlocker or duffle bag. Wills are sent home with the next outbound supply caravan, and one hopes the condolence giving cargo isn't raided on the way home. Then, the recovery team is disbanded, and many start up a cigarette or chaw, thinking about what they saw, or plan the finer details of their fantasied leave week.

Side note: I've mentioned my will and last message many times, so here's what mine said:

Edward Harton/Ed Heilong last will and message

Mama, Pop, I think you all might've been right. The world outside of San Fran really got me good. Please don't let the NCR mark my memorial as a Hubologist. I swear I made that my religion as a joke. You don't need another reason to disown me. Below is my military account details with instructions on how to access the funds in there. That should cover anything you may have spent on detectives looking for me. Sorry again about the whole running away and dying thing.

(My military account details with instructions for access)

Anyway, given the whole emotional numbness, and dying in sand dilemma, I suppose we Forlorn Hope veterans were similar to the Legion in that way.

I started this off by talking about the Legion's best and worst quality. That being; they didn't recover or really care about their dead. Even though we still felt morally superior for doing so, it was so procedure that it didn't impact anymore. Although, there were times where I think even command considered scrapping recovery teams, given their frequent ambushes.

There were certain occasions that we thought we saw the legion recovering their dead, but it turned out that they were just collecting some of their dead's equipment.

I sometimes wondered what was told to legionaries about the topic of dying and what happens afterward. For some reason, I imagined myself sitting in a classroom as a brand new legionary while a teacher with a large feathered helmet sat at a desk. Above the chalk board, there was a giant picture of Caesar, and the teacher says,

"Ok class, open your textbooks to 'Chapter 13: Dying for Caesar'. Now that recruit legionary Billy over there got his brain's empathy processor removed, we can cover this as a class..."

Everyone laughed at legionary Billy whose red face showed even behind his face mask and goggles. The teacher went on, "After taking a gunshot wound to the head from one of those evil and immoral NCR troopers, it is your sworn duty to Not, and I repeat, NOT, shout for aid from your fellow legionaries…"

Legionary Johnny raises a hand and interrupts, "But what if it's not a lethal gunshot wound to the head? What if you can survive?"

"Great question, recruit legionary Johnny!" the teacher says before continuing, "It's imperative that you not distract your more healthy pals from their job of killing Californians. You don't want to disappoint Caesar, do you?"

Everyone shakes their heads, and recruit legionary Bob asks, "How can we serve Caesar if we're injured then?"

The teacher jumps right to it, "That's when you slice your neck with your machete, just like we practiced last week with the dummy blades."

We all nodded, remembering last week's pre-chapter 13 lesson about killing ourselves. I ask, "After we've done our duty and died, will one of our fellas come back for our bodies once they've killed the profligates?"

Our enthusiastic teacher says, "No, no, recruit legionary Harton. Your stinking body will decay in the sun for failing Caesar. However…"

Our whole class in suspense, the teacher gives a wink behind his spectacles and Legion issue goggles, "Even your corpse will continue to serve Caesar by emitting disease to any Californians who get too close!"

We all shout "YAY!" at the idea of serving Caesar even after we've died. The teacher shouts, "Now! Who wants to practice crucifying captured dissolutes!?"

The whole class shouts, "I do! I do!" as we make our way out the class door.

Anyway, that's how I imagined that…

Despite the Forlorn Hope trooper's acceptance of seeing so much death, one time, a recovery team was unable to do their job, and not because of the usual attack.