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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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Hey /tg/, got a question about Whiteshields, (well, several) since I know absolutely jack diddlely about them.

So from what I understand, Whiteshields are Cadian kids between the ages of 12 - 17 that essentially serve as recruits in the PDF, right?

What exactly do they do there? Are they frontline troops? Supply runners? All I ever see about them in terms of tabletop are just inexpensive meatshields, so I'm assuming frontliners, but if anyone could clarify...

Also, do Whiteshields behave as if they are an official guard squad, in that they have officers, squad leaders and the like?

I'm asking because I actually wanted to drawfag a comic about a Whiteshield becoming a Guardsman, but again, I need more info.

If you guys have any details, pls respnd
According to this: http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Whiteshields#.UTUUHWLfJFo

>They perform menial and support duties which would otherwise eat into the regiment's fighting strength

That's all I could do to help. Sorry.
It also depends a bit on the regimental commander.
Some use them as meat shield who, if they survive, gets promoted to guardsmen. (Usually if they do something that would earn them a medal)
Others are more supporters. Since 40k is so wast, you can pretty much do anything and inbetween.

Armoured regiments? Whiteshields runs around on foot and keeps the enemy off the tanks.
Siege regiment? Guess who gets the honour of delivering a message to command once the vox goes down.. And it always goes down.
Line infantry? Well, that heavy bolter position isn't going to re-supply itself, now is it? Also the auto-cannon crew need some help getting it unstuck.

And some times, you just get plain unlucky and have to fist fight an ork.
They're the guys who run cables srom outpost to outpost when coms go down.
They're the ones down on their bellies in the mud, a spool of razor wire on their backs, crawling in front of a trench before an enemy charge.
They're the ones who get shot before the battle even starts so that the veterans don't
They do the grunt work of the regiment. They sit back in a support posture, cleaning weapons, loading ammunition. doing other auxilery duties. They go on a few patrols every now and again. They rotate onto the line and again preforme more auxillary duties, till they are good enough IN combat to actually prove their worth. After a while they get integrated into the regiment.

Ever hear the term "probie"? Thats what whiteshields are. Cadian probationals
What are the chances of killing an ork with a standard lasgun?
pretty fucking high. Its done by the thousands daily.

Despite the games and jokes the Lasrifle is absolute MURDER to unprotected flesh or soft armor.
Cadia has a youth army system where teenagers (so the starting age will be 13) are organised into Whiteshield platoons(named after them having no regiments symbols on them just a white stripe) , these platoons complete their training inside real shock troop regiments besides experienced troopers, they are not considered to be part of the regiment until they prove themselves.
Depends on the writer.
Rule wise.. Hmm.. Lets just say you might want to either have some buddies with you and/or be entrenched so that the ork can't reach you in 2-4 rounds.
The thing is tho, the mass volly of las fire brings them down quickly. Once you the quantity, you are going to need to pick up in quality. Hopefully a ogryn to keep it off your back or heavy gunner to lay down the imperial law.
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Thanks man, every bit helps.

So if I were to make a Whiteshield unit that makes up the first line of attack/defense during a siege or some sort, it would be lore accurate?

I realize that 40k lore is very diverse, but don't want to deviate too far from the norm.


So they're basically the grunts within an army of grunts? Sounds like a tough life...

How well would they fare against the enemies of the Imperium? Assuming these are basically "just finished basic" kids.
Let me rephrase my question. What if you're one on one with an ork and all you have is your trusty lasgun?
Rolled 6

>How well would they fare against the enemies of the Imperium? Assuming these are basically "just finished basic" kids
They are Cadians. According to the Prophet of the God-Emperor Gregor Eisenhorn, all Cadian Children are being given guns from the moment they can walk. They train with live ammo in preschool
>Prophet of the God-Emperor Gregor Eisenhorn
I'm watching you, heretic.
Then you have to be crafty. Aim for the soft spots in the armor. Go for the legs to slow him down, or aim low center mass where orks don't put much armor. You're a Cadian, think like one. Use that Natrual born dead eye, and put it to good use.
They're Hitlerjugend. You don't want to be using them as meatshields, because they're the future of Cadia. It's much better to indoctrinate and train them rigorously, so you get good soldiers in the future.

But if Abaddon Zhukov stands at the gates of Cadia, you're gonna throw them into the fight, because the future of the nation is endangered either way.
I don't think Whiteshields are specific Cadians. Just that Cadians use them quite a lot.

Oh and if you managed to get your hand on a hot-shot laspack, this is the time to use it. On full auto.
And I hope you have already affixed the bayonet.
Thank you, your lordship. I shall smite the greenskin in thy name!
Geeze you purple eyed bastard stop being so prim and proper. You won't fit in with that kinda attitude.
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So it seems that Cadian Whiteshields would fare the same as a regular Guardsman, if not better, and slightly worse than a Cadian.

Have there ever been any notable Whiteshields in the fluff that I can get some inspiration from?

Also...do Catachan Jungle Fighters have Whiteshields?
pretty much this. They are usually go to indoctrination school where they have military classes as a addon and play red vs blue laser tag a lot. So much that it stops being fun.
Only Cadians have them.
To quote Lexicanum: "Whiteshields are young reinforcements to an existing Imperial Guard Regiment."
Whiteshields are not used in every regiment, but they are not limited to Cadia either. Since Catachan fighters have travelled the stars and void, I'm sure that some of them have given birth to a few bastard who got tagged along with the regiment.
These children would be whiteshields.
Would the regiment deploy them? Depends on the officers in question. But if the going gets tough, well then.. "Every man able to hold a lasgun gotta use it"
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Alright, I think I got enough info to do you guys proud.

Thanks to all of ya'll who responded!
My story starts when I was young, barely fourteen. I remember it was dark, darker than normal, even with no clouds. The Eye could be seen clearly. Me and a group of about five were huddled together in a small structure we made out of sticks and mud. We clenched our improvised weapons tightly trying to draw as much warmth as we could from a dying fire. They taught us for so long how to use a lasrifle, how to break it down and assemble it again. How to shoot, and fight. They taught us these skills for so many years, making us train for so long. Then one day they took away our weapons and threw us into the woods. The skills we were taught were almost useless.

Almost two years would pass. We were left in those woods and became quite interoffice in surviving off of nothing. Those of us that could simply died. A friend of mine died early on. She fell from a tree trying to gather eggs from a nest. The cuts became infected and she died. It wasn't easy watching your friends die slowly. Or coming across a body so emaciated from hunger. It was to make us tough, I suppose. We learned that in order to survive we needed to be resourceful and quick thinking. We needed to be the best.

I am pretty sure that the term whiteshield is exclusive to cadia, it is referring to how members of the youth army do not have any regimental symbols or patterns on their uniform just a big white stripe on their helmets.
Whiteshields in name are, actually exclusive to Cadia. They are named because of the white stripe on their helmets. Whiteshields as a concept are widespread.
Those look like Armageddon Ork Hunters instead of Catachans though
Also, soldiers might adopt war orphans. These would grow up.

And the term Whiteshield might be Cadia exclusive, but as one of you said: The concept is widespread.
Hell, a Catachan regiment might just call them
'Little Knives.'
Those two years that's what we became. We became the masters of our environment. Much like when they spent so many years teaching us how to fight, they would take our training and throw us somewhere else. That night, that darkest of nights, the day my life started. We were eating a hamut, it was a small fox-like animal that roamed the woods, when suddenly an intense light pierced through the foliage of the woods. Hundreds of floodlights from the nearby Kasr lit up. Then the loudspeakers began to roar.
"Youth of sector 12, Follow the sound of this report to the nearest processing station. You have one hour to comply. All remaining youth will be euthanized."
The message kept repeating itself with a shrill siren in between each transmission. We wasted no time running towards the signal. We began to see more gangs of children emerge from the woods. It was strange, we knew they were there, but it was easy to forget just how many of us where strange in that Emperor forsaken forest. We were much closer to the Kasr than I thought, maybe a kilometer and a half. We ran as fast as we could, weapons in hand. Ducking and weaving through branches and bushes. The light grew more intense and the siren began to hurt my ears.

We came to a clearing where they were waiting for us. Hundreds of soldiers in their full battle regalia, it was hard to make out any details, all they were was silhouettes under those powerful lights. The were ushering the denizens of our former home into little formations of twenty or so. Our group was no exception. One man approached us and with a very stern and angry voice began commanding us to fall in.
"You five, shut up and sit next to those youth over there!"
>40k is so wast
It's like vast, but two v's for emphasis
Yeah, yeah. Typo on my side, me bad.

Then again, talking about 40k is sorta like talking about a religion that has gone through several changes and things may or may no longer count. Not to mention various ways to interpret some of the shit that is written.

I had a look at the sources from that page, they are correct that according to Warhammer 40,000 Compendium the term whiteshield was used as an universal one but at the same time the eye of terror book and the last imperial guard codex says whiteshields are members of Cadia's youth army, so technically this page is correct but I think it is a case of them using outdated fluff.


most pieces of fluff I have read actually says fresh meat shield are the children of soldiers in the regiment not adopted children.
They were all yelling at us, telling us to straighten up, stop talking, or because we looked funny. We sat in a perfect block, four wide and as many back as they had room for. We were instructed to leave no room between us and the child in front of us. We sat in silence for what felt like an eternity as they began herding more of us. All I remember was incoherent screams from the solders, and the sound of feet driving into the soft mud. Eery so often one would come by and start yelling at us to "close the gaps" or to "lock it up" in reference to someone moving or talking.

Transports started to move in. we heard them long before we saw them break through the barrier the light created. Hundreds of large transports, and several smaller ones. The sirens stop blaring around this time. A Gorgon stopped before us and the ramp fell. The inside was modified to have small wooden benches for us to sit on.

Three men with Campaign hats walked out of the metal behemoth. They grabbed the first four people and yanked them to their feet. They ran for the the Gorgon. As they did they tore away what weapons or items they had. They would only let us in with the tattered rags we used as clothing. Two of them kept yelling insanely, the one I passed was calm, and he scared me more than the rest.
"Get in. Lets move. With a quickness youth."
Either way, child soldiers are actually rampant in 40k if you read between the lines.
Whiteshields, while at the age of 14, can be asked to pull same duty as regular soldiers.

Space Marines only take the strong warriors and leaders for their chapters.
To make a space marine, you pretty much need to be pre-puberty.
That means that there a hardcore gangs and warlords running around that are.. 7-10 year old.
And I fucking love it.
There was a Whiteshield who at a very early age already proved his tactical ge---

My eyes made contact with his for a moment. I felt as if I had angered the Emperor, there was so much anger in those glowing purple eyes. My body moved as if on its own. My feet pushed me forward, but it wasn't me telling them to do so. We were so terrified. We began to fill the rows alternating sides almost instinctively. Once we were all sitting they began walking down the rows. One of them, the ones I feared, began to speak.
"You will sit quietly, and you will not move. When you are instructed you will exit the Gorgon, and not a moment sooner."

Some unintelligent faceless child said something. He barely got a syllable in before he was pounced on. They yelled at him stressing their voices. He fell silent and started looking at the ground. I felt a tightness in my entire body as they did. Almost like if I did I would become invisible and they would not come to me next for something I didn't know I was doing.

We heard other transports begin to move and I felt a harsh jerking as the war machine came to life. One by one they started to depart. I saw several more children running towards us screaming 'Wait!' Several soldiers charged at them. Our ramp closed. I don't know what happened to those few, but I still remember the look of terror on their face as the metal door closed. The Gorgon left without them. It must have been midnight, I was so tiered and ready for sleep, but my night was just beginning.
I was shaking so bad during the whole trip. It lasted maybe a half hour. The only noise we heard the entire time was one of them barking at us for doing something so horrible as to yawn or sneeze. We would stop and I would close my eyes, waiting for the metal ramp to open. But it never would. The machine would just continue moving or turn. It ate at me more than the constant threat of predators, or strange bumps in the night.

When we did come to a stop for the last time, we could see smaller lights overhead. We had entered some sort of base or facility. We were still outside, but close to the civilization we had long since left. The Gorgon sat idle for several minutes. A few of us tried to get up without thinking.
"Stay seated, don't move!"

The men made their way to the front. and again that one spoke again.
"When this ramp comes down you will leave by row, and proceed into the facility in single file. Do not leave anymore than forearm length between you and the youth in front of you."
The gate began to slowly open as he was speaking. Its speed irked me greatly, because once it fell we could leave the infernal trap of our steel walls. It waited for the man to finish.
"You will remain silent. Do not speak unless you are asked a question. You will do as you are told, grab what you are told to grab."

The ramp crashed into the ground revealing a pristine concrete structure. Its bland and uniform color was almost too harsh for me to look at. He grabbed the first person at the front and she ran into the building. There was only three people before it was my turn to run. Once again my body moved without my consent. As if it was trying to protects me from making a mistake.
The inside of the building was lit with painful white lights. The stale reprocessed air filled my lungs and it almost made me gag. It had been so long since I was in a solid structure. It felt so alien to me by this point. As if it was the first time I had seen human civilization.

The line formed itself and it was slowly moving through the narrow hallways. There was enough room for one more person to get by. Every so often a soldier would walk by. They lacked the armor the ones we saw before had. Ahead of me I heard a voice that wasn't yelling, but still had the same indigent tone as before. As if your existence inconvenienced the person and it was your fault. I drew closer to the sound and I could hear responses to the words spoken. a man at a desk was asking us our names. My mind drew a blank. I couldn't belive I had forgotten my name for a few moments. My world became very small at that moment as the line pushed me forward to the man.
"Name." He asked me without even looking up. I stuttered. " Name." Louder this time.
"Vekner" The word stumbled out. It was my name, but I couldn't control my jaw.
"Is that your given name or family name?"
"Whatever, move."

I was pressed forward, and he entered it into some sort of database. I heard him ask the same question to the boy behind me. The next stop in my line was a man handing us a raincoat of some kind. He just held it to me without saying any words. I snatched it away to scared to look him in the eyes. He was just a Trooper, and this must have been his job, but I was so scared of anything in a uniform at that moment. The man after him handed me a small rucksack, and instructed me to fold up the raincoat, then attach it underneath.
Before I knew it I was wearing a rucksack, and had a white cardboard box in my hands. We were ushered into a large auditorium with maybe a thousand chairs assembled in them They were divided into two blocks. At the head of the room was a large golden Aquila painted proudly. Flanked on each side was the Flag of Caida emblazoned in rich colors. Our confused horde was directed into the chairs and filled them row by row. I was the fifth row back and eight or ten from the center.
"Please be seated. Remain quiet and orderly.

I fought my bodies irresistible urge to sleep. My head turned inquisitively every so often to watch more children pour into the room. The yelling had died down somewhat, though every so often you could hear one of them get out of line. I sat immobile in my chair otherwise with the white box on my lap.

Half an hour later the room was filled and the men with campaign hats returned. We all straightened up in our chairs. as they marched to the front of the room. The room had gone entirely silent. One man placed himself at the center of both blocks of children and began to speak. His voice was graveled from constant yelling and his forcing it to the back of the room sometimes made it hard to understand.

"I am Master Sergeant Wolkain, some of you may have the displeasure of training under me. Right now you will be processed to your training companies in the 655th Training battalion. At this moment you are to open the box you were handed."
We did so, and inside was a sandwich, a small container of a enriched water, as well as a small sugary snack. I thought it was rather generous of them to feed us so well. I didn't know that it was simply to give us energy and nutrients our bodies were so painfully deprived of. We hadn't eaten as well as we could have in the woods.
"You have three minutes to empty the contents of the box. Begin."

The clear plastic wrapping around my food was destroyed as if it was Abbadon himself. Within second I crammed almost the entirety of food into my mouth. I had trouble chewing and even stomaching the rich flavor of bread and cheese. The drink was far more sweet than it looked. I had finished long before he yelled at us to stop.
"Now, place the box at your feet. Do not touch this box again."

He started to drone on about the Imperium and other mandatory words. some time into them a child reached for his box. Like a hawk the man noticed and called him out. Within moments the yelling began again. My body tensed, though he was nowhere near me

He continued his speech and some time more soldiers showed up. The weren't dressed for battle, they were simply carrying dataslates and other administrative items. They aligned themselves along the rows and waited for the mans signal. I knew the time for us to move was drawing closer. I started to feel it. My body shivered with anticipation. I stopped and clenched my eyes and took in a deep breath to calm myself.

"Now, I want you to raise your hand if any of the following applies to you. Do any of you have parents, or immediate family in the Anterior Guard, or a member of Kasrkins?"
Thank you for writing all this, it's very entertaining to read.
I don't know the exact number, but well over half raised their hands. My hand stayed down. Both my parents were in the Interior, the 582nd. I felt that I would be a member of it as well. Almost all of my family was. Funny how traditions always change. The soldiers at the side began to usher the ones with their hands up, out of their seats. We were informed that they were to be sent off to a different training installation. This was never explained to me why they did this. The training was the same everywhere. All I know is soon after that we were told to stand again.

Without a moment to spare we were lead into another room. Hour half looked much smaller in the new room. There was a whiteboard with the words " Welcome Youth of Cadia." written on it. The letters were bubbled and comical, almost as if to insult us. Perhaps the guardsmen that had to do this needed a break in the monotony. However a man with a campaign hat and another assistant entered the room. The Guardsmen as well straightened up.

It was about this time I noticed how disheveled our appearances were. Our clothes had been tattered and caked in mud. The room must have stank horribly for the poor guardsmen, whose uniforms looked flawless in contrast. I couldn't remember the last time I bathed. the thought made me shudder momentarily.
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Yo God Emps, just want you to know I'm still reading this, really awesome so far.

Giving me a lot of ideas too!
I think Catachans are so nails in the fluff that if your survive to the age to serve your already ready to fight with the big boys
"Listen for your name. When I call you, you will line up in the back. Do not move, do not talk."
I took in a breath through my nose waiting for my name to be called.
"Zephyr" A tall boy stood up and walked quickly to the back. Once he got there another man pointed at the door on the otherside. He looked at it confused for a moment.
"What are you too stupid to figure it out? Get next to the door you worthless bastard!"

The boy's eyes lit up and he ran to the door. The next name was called off and she ran to stand next to him. Another name another child. Finally my name was called. I tried to get through the row of chairs gracefully. but tripped and almost lost my balance. I felt a chill rush through my body expecting a barrage of harsh words. None came and I kept moving. He continued to call names.

I stood completely motionless looking at the back of the head of some boy. His hair was long black and matted with mud. I became aware of our stench as my lungs became used to the pure air. I drew upon what reserve of strength I had left to keep standing there silently. Minutes passed and twenty of us were lined up. the screams came again and told us to leave the room. We rushed down a flight of stairs. A man shoved us out the door and back into the darkness of night. Only the orange light posts illuminating the ground.
Outside three elongated chimeras waited for us. We were pushed into them and crammed uncomfortable tight. I was all the way in the back. Once it was filled a man came by and closed the door. red lights came on and we could see. We were left entirely alone aside from the driver, who was behind a metal door.

The Chimera eventually started up and we began another seemingly endless journey. I heard someone speak, he was immediately silenced. There were no Guardsmen with us, we were so unnerved we began doing it to ourselves. I wasn't the only one shaking. I think I even heard someone start to cry quietly. I wanted to so badly.
All I felt was the tugging and jerking of the Chimera as it turned or hit a bump. The resulting moment tossed whoever was sitting next to me into me for a moment. AT that point I didn't think any other lighting could make me feel so uneasy. That red light was almost making me nauseous. I just wanted it to go out and bath us in darkness. I wanted to sleep so bad. The fear of being caught outweighed my feable need for sleep.

The Chimera lurched to a halt. I heard a second and third Chimera stop next to us. For a long time nothing happened. The the metal door began to fly open. At the head of the Chimera there was another man in a campaign hat. He stared down at us. almost looking past us all. He raised his hand and gestured behind him with his thumb extended.

Thats all he said as we almost climbed over each other to get out. We grabbed our rucksacks and exited, back into the night. We ran towards a large multistory structure. The first few stories were carved out. Only a few support beams stood, and a few enclosed stairwells to reach the upper floors. Underneath were several men wearing a hat I began to fear more than the iconic tip of a Commissar. My hand started to shake. I wrapped it around the strap of my bag and I ran.
For some strange reason I now want to write a story about a whiteshield and a young eldar guardian fighting each other...
They lined us up into four rows and made us face off from the building in what I would learn later was line formation. We waited until everyone was offloaded and lined up. More minutes passed as if they were hours. One of the men was pacing back and forth along the first rank of us. He saw that we had lined up and began to speak in a harsh voice.
"I am Master Sergeant Harel. I am your Training Instructor. you will do as I say, when I say it. You will proceed your action with a 'Proceeding Sergeant' Or a 'Yes Sergeant' Do you understand?"
Re responded in unison in a confused 'Yes Sergeant' He looked at us angrily.
"Bullshit, louder."
"Yes Sergeant"
'I heard PDFers cry louder than that. Louder!"
He nodded and began to pace back and forth. Staring us down. I was in the front rank, at the far end. He stopped to speak again in a voice that sent shocks down my spine.
"If member of the training staff addresses you, you will respond with with 'Sergeant, recruit, your name, reports as ordered' Then the Emperor damned right answer to their question. And it damn well better be the right answer. Do you get me?"

I have a story like that too. look up "the Guards" on 1D4chan
One's 12, the other 1200. They fight crime.
With a thunderous thump we all let go of our bags. He placed his hands on his hips and shook his head with a violent grimace on his face. He looked at the others and the showed us the same affection.
"Pick them up." He spat out. We reached for them in and held them like before.
"Put them Down" The same crashing filled the overhang. He scowled harder.
"Pick them up!" We complied
"Put them down!" Once again the same result. I was beginning to become confused. We were doing as we were told, or so I thought.

"Are you ignorant bastards so stupid you cannot get the easiest command I can give you right? PUT! THEM! DOWN!"

Once again the same result. The other men marched towards us screaming at how we are failing the Emperor in our stupidity. They screamed and bellowed pointing at us and then to the ground. Eventually they let out the idea that we gently set the bags down. It became so obvious to me afterwards. I felt ashamed and idiotic. Master Sergeant Harel Took his place at the center of the formation and once again gave the command. This time we sent the bags down gently.

"By the Emperor's begging concubines! You Frakking listend to me!"
Though the whole ordeal the jacket I had attached to my rucksack must have come loose because the strap in did itself and fell onto the ground. The wind caught it and started pulling it. I froze standing still. I saw him walk towards me.
"That looks important maybe you should pick it up."

I shook in place not moving. He said it again louder. I still remained stunned. this was happening. It finally clicked in my head. He was now right in front of me repeating it louder and faster.
"That looks important, maybe you should pick it up!" He grew closer to my face.

His words grew angrier and louder as we was inches from my face. I felt the hot air from his mouth crash upon my face as he stared me down with those dull violet eyes, screaming at me.
I broke free of the spell I was in and flew towards my jacket. My hands grabbed it before the gust of wind took it further. All the while I was being yelled at. Once it was in my hands I made no attempt to fold it and instead re strapped it and ran back to my place. he shook his head and walked back to his spot at the head of the formation.

"You stupid fraks better not be like this one! So help me Emperor I will rip all of you a new asshole! Now, since we are following orders, lets see if you undeserving cunts can get this one right!" He began to speak slower to mock us further. "Open the bags."
We did so, but were stopped.
"Nope! You idiots are forgetting something! Close em up and await my command." We did so. "Open them."
"Proceeding Sergeant" one person cried out.
"Rorgal H Dorn! Someone gets it!" he weaved into the ranks to look the boy in the eyes. " Whats your name?"
"Sergeant, Recruit Bennemen reports as ordered! Jacob Bennemen!"
"Holy shit You could have stopped at the reporting statement, but at least you got something right, unlike these Frak-ups!"

As he started walking away, another instructor approached Bennemen. He looked him up and down once.
"What Kasr you belong to?"
"Kasr Lutien, Sergeant."
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The way I see it, Whiteshields are Hitlerjugend and Bund Deutscher M├Ądel in one and their primary purpose is to form proper future soldiers in body and mind. Under normal circumstances they are not put into front line duty, but in extreme conditions, such as an assault on the Cadian Gate they are of course mobilised on war footing.

The contrast is for example Valhallan conscripts who may be just as young (but also much, much older) who are frequently herded straight into the meat grinder.
Sergeant Harel stopped and turned around. The other instructor looked at him with a wicked grin on his face. Sergeant Harel shook his head. I knew the poor boy was about to get the same treatment I did.
"Shit son, I was so impressed, Then you frakked it all up! What did I tell you you say when an instructor addresses you?"
"Sergeant, Recruit Bennenem reports as ordered! I thought-"
"You thought? YOU THOUGHT? FRAKKING Grox shit! You can't think, because I didn't tell you to think! Do you get me?"
"Yes Sergeant!"
"Say, I won't think anymore Master Sergeant Harel!"
"I wont think anymore Master Sergeant Harel!"

When he returned to the center he gave us the order again. We blared out "Proceeding Sergeant" like we wanted the Eye to hear us.

We opened our bags. Inside were several toiletries, a couple of towels and things. Sergeant Harel when on about the items inside. There was a gel soap for bathing, a razor for shaving, a canister of deodorant. Tooth cleaning powder, a brush to apply it with. There was also a webbelt and harness. Attached to it was a canteen and a couple of smaller pouches. At the very bottom, for mine at least, was the Imperial Infantryman's Handbook. The must have changed it while I was in the woods. We laid out all the items in a way that we were instructed to do so.
We were then instructed to take all the items and assemble them in a certain way. It ended with us donning the harness and then the ruck sack once again. Personally I thought the webbelt was rather comfortable. But at this point in time, I was not the smartest of Cadians. We were then told to prepare to fall into the stairwell. before he did we were split into platoons. I looked behind me to see another formation of four ranks. They were to be our brother platoon of 187. We were 186.
"When I get into this stairwell I want rank one to follow me. When rank one is gone rank two, and so on. 187 you will wait here. Staff Sergeant Erelin will tell you what to do."

He walked into the stairwell. My feet carried me. We had to go up four entire flights of stairs to reach our quarters. It's a sight I cannot forget. Two rows of perfectly alined bunk beds almost ten back. The bedding was perfect and tight on each of them. They had a gray woolen dustcover and white linens under them. Beside them were lockers along the wall. Each had a number assigned to it. But we weren't to enter just yet. We lined up in the hallway before it. Down a ways there was another room just like it.

There were two girls in there was well. They weren't Guardsmen, they were about our age, but they were in armor and had their lasrifles slung over their shoulder. Their helmet had a thick blue stripe on it. Sergeant Harel said they were our Door guards.
"There are two bays to this barracks. A bay and B bay! Males to A bay, Females to B Bay! At no time will you be in a bay you aren't supposed to be in. You get caught, the repercussions will be harsh. The only areas you are allowed to be in together is the hallway, the dayroom and the latrine. Understood?"


"Good now I want you to to run to a locker and point to the number. You will not look at anything but the number, and you will do nothing till I say you can! GO!"

I ran into B bay along with the rest and found a locker that wasn't taken already. Number 24. I placed my finger on it so hard I felt I would dent the metal. I stood there shaking felling the weight of my bag pulling me backwards. I heard yelling erupt from A bay. Someone looked away, or did something wrong. Sergeant Harel continued to barrage the poor boy for several minutes before stopping and to continue his brief. Though he would go through several more boys, and a few girls before continuing.

"Now, Look at the bunks. find your number and empty your bags on your bed when I say."
I saw I had the top bunk. I smiled reflexively, and quickly stopped.
I emptied my carefully packed bag onto the flawless bed. His next order was to throw the items neatly into the locker. I ripped the door open and tossed my items in there. I slammed my door shut when I finished. He heard. When he yelled out "who shut their door?" I opened it again immediately. None of the other girls said a thing. seeing nothing he went on his speech.
"Now, you all smell like shit. Grab your cleaning equipment, and your razors. I want you all showered and clean shaven. Girls you too. Don't think for a moment you won't get dinged for it. I know you grow a mustache a Vostroyan would be proud of! Door Guards, five minutes, get it done!"
They began howling at us like banshee's. Telling us to get undressed and into the showers. They slammed their hands on the lockers and got in our faces.

They yelled at us just like the Instructors, telling us to hurry up. I quickly discarded the rags I called clothing. They were so old and unkempt I forgot what color they were. I saw several of the boys run in already, one of the door guards chased him screaming. I grabbed the towel and the cleaning gel, against my better judgment, the razor as well, and ran towards the door. I didn't have time to take in the lay of the latrine. There were a bunch of stalls and sinks, off to the side was a shower area. Before it there were benches, inside the shower part there were only twelve shower heads. and 48 people.

The first few in turned them on full blast while the Door Guards kept screaming at us slamming their fists into whatever would make a loud enough noise. I felt the water hit me. It was ice cold. I didn't have enough time to even care as another body slammed into me. The room was packed with water pouring down on us like a torrent. It wasn't a pleasant sight either. Imagine a couple dozen people who just got done living in the woods without bathing for two years. I think they chose white tile just for the seer insult to our former life.

I took what water I could and cleaned myself the best that I was bale. Against all odds I did manage to get a good portion of myself clean. though there were still some blotches of dirt on my skin. We cycled in and out of the shower with hapless abandon. One of the males slipped on his exit and landed on a the solid tile lip that separated the shower area from the rest. We got him to his feet, and he reassured us that he was ok, despite a large and noticeable bruise.

I'd like to counter this with a CSB about my father Luca.

This was during the days in which Italy had conscription; you wouldn't be sent off to Vietnam, although it was the same years, because we were not involved in that mess, but he had no particular interested in being conscripted.

So, he's standing in line with about thirty other 18 year olds for induction, getting shouted at by a drill sargeant not unlike the scene in Full Metal Jacket except that it was outdoors.

When the guy gets in front of my dad, he plainly states that he's not interested in joining any army and wants to go home. This earns Luca a punch in the gut.

Now, Luca looks a bit like a beardless dwarf with an epic mustache- he's done construction work all his life, and it still shows; he's not very tall but he's quite wide.

So he takes the punch without flinching and, like any red-blooded Italian young man, hits back. There is a very small fight at the end of which my dad informs the officer that he's leaving. The officer is too busy rolling on the ground and holding his bruised balls to reply, but two MPs run towards my dad and intercept him. There's another brief fight, after which the four MPs that were guarding the army base's gate finally manage to pin my dad down.

He was taken to jail for three weeks and discharged. And that was the end of his military career. He felt that it beat 15 months in the infantry.

The moral of the story is, don't start a fight with an Italian construction worker.
I got to the sinks and saw several people shaving. The men winced in pain as their accumulated facial hair was being ripped form their skin. I even saw several girls doing so. I remember I looked at the razor thinking how preposterous the idea was. It wasn't until it was given reinforcement from the Door guard that I actually began to shave my face with alacrity.

I must have cut myself at least a dozen times. My face looked like many of the males, and started to bleed rather profusely. I splashed water on it and hoped for the best. I fought my way out of the shower and I wrapped my towel around me. It felt comforting to feel something soft and somewhat clean on my body again. I got to my bunk and dried myself off. It is truly disgusting how much filth a body can accumulate. At the time I didn't care, it was how I lived and all I knew up until that point. Looking back at it it makes me shudder, even when I was knee deep in mud in a trench.

I watched people as they left the latrine, the door was perfectly looking down my row of beds. I began to think the choice wasn't the best. I folded up my towel and tossed it into the locker. I heard several more people tip and fall into the hard tiles. Soon Master Sergeant Harel started screaming.

"Five minutes! You're done! YOU'RE DONE! GET OUT! GET OUT GET OUT! MOVE TIMES UP!"
He continued to yell until everyone was out of the showers and at their bunk. Soon the roar of commotion and voices died completely. and it went back to the silence I had already grown used to. I was freezing cold from the shower and couldn't tell if I was shaking from nerves or the cold. I didn't want to put my dirty clothes back on in fear of returning me to that sate again. All I know is we all stood by our bunks waiting for our next orders.

"Feel all nice and clean you fitly rats? I bet you do. Now you get to sleep in a nice comfy bed, you spoiled shits. See what Cadia offers you? Now on my command, get in your beds."

I stood at the head of my bed, and my bunk mate was at hers. Our eyes met for a second them we looked away terrified of each other. I don't know why either. She was locked here just as much as I was.

I tore off the sheets or my bed and nestled in between them. I hadn't felt sheets or a mattress in such a long time. Even with that I could hardly fall asleep.

"Door Guards, Lights out!"
One of the girls went for a switch and and the lights went out. The room became very dark. Just light the night had been. I stared at the ceiling for a while. Unable to close my eyes. My body released all its stress at once as the bed did wonders to my pained body. It truly was wonderful after all the time. It may have been too comfortable for me to fall asleep, or the stress of my new life. I contemplated things. This was it for the rest of my life.

After this I would be in the guard. If I was lucky I would get into the Interior Guard with the rest of my family. If I wasn't then my life would be this forever, I thought. No matter what, I would never leave the Guard. This was my life whether I wanted it or not. I was a Cadian. I am a Cadian.

Then another thought crossed my mind, one that hurt me deeply. This wasn't even one day. This was just a few short hours in the reality of life. They felt long for me, but the next day I would go through a full day of this. Someone else must have had the same thoughts as me. I heard crying from another bunk, down the bay. I fought back the urge to do so.

A Door guard walked down the center aisle of the bay with her torch pointing at the ceiling. This was one night. I muttered to myself. I hadn't even begun yet.

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done. I have to go to bed now. some time this weekend

Emperor delivers.
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Bloody amazing your holiness, thanks for adding to the lore. I bet people will look to this in the future to get some inspiration for their own Guard stories.

Overall, Grimdark/10

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