the mined burnt…out buildings that surrounded them on every turn。 Boy was not fooled。 After three
something years living alone among the rubble now he had developed a sixth sense when it came to
the city and its ways。 A sense that; right here and now; told him he had best be wary。
Oughta be getting myself back underground and staying there a while; he thought as he finally
turned to make for home。 There’s trouble brewing: the wind says it clear and loud。 A bad day is
coming; and like as not a lots of peoples is gonna die…
“What was life like where you were born?” Larn asked Bulaven; lifting another shovelful of earth
onto the blade of his entrenching tool as the big man stood beside him。 “On your homeworld; I
mean?”
“On Vardan?” Bulaven said; pausing in his work long enough to wipe the sweat from his
chapped brow before it could freeze。 “It was good enough I suppose; new fish。 Certainly; there are a
lot of worse planets a man could be from。”
They were standing in the trench with shovels in their hands; Davir and Scholar beside them
while Zeebers stood on the firing step on watch; trying to repair the damage done to the trench in the
course of the shelling。 Returning to their trench in the aftermath of the bombardment; the fireteam
had arrived to find the explosion of a nearby shell had caused part of the trench’s rear wall to
collapse; half…burying the trench interior in clods of frozen earth。 Now; after half an hour of
backbreaking labour the trench floor was mostly cleared; the excess earth having been piled out of
the way into another corner of the trench。
“Personally; I would say you are doing our homeworld a grave disservice; Bulaven。” Davir said;
sitting on the end of his shovel and watching them as they moved the last of the fallen earth。
“Frankly; my own recollections suggest Vardan was every bit as much a stinking hellhole as
79
Broucheroc。 Granted; we didn’t have all these orks to contend with there。 I’m sure I don’t remember
having to do so much digging back home though。”
“I don’t seem to have noticed you doing too much digging here either。” Bulaven said。 “Most of
the time in fact you have been standing there and leaving all the work to others。”
“Phah。 It is a simply a matter of maintaining a proper division of labour;” Davir said。 “Each man
performs the task to which he is best suited。 Which; in this case; means that you; Scholar; and the
new fish do the don…keywork while I oversee your labours in a supervisory capacity。 Besides;
someone must watch to make sure the new fish can tell one end of a spade from the other。”
“Not to mention your vital role in keeping us all warm;” Larn said; so annoyed now at the ugly
dwarf’s constant insults that he found himself responding in kind without even thinking。 “Emperor
knows; if it wasn’t for all your hot air spewing about this trench we might have frozen to death long
ago。”
For a moment; shocked at his response; the others looked at him in silence。 Then; abruptly;
Scholar and Bulaven broke into surprised laughter。 Even Davir’s face briefly cracked into a
grudging smile。 Only Zeebers seemed unmoved; scowling down at Larn from the firing step with
the same hostile expressions he always wore。
“Hah! Hot air!” Bulaven said; laughing。 “That’s a good one。 The new fish may not have been
here very long; Davir; but you have to admit he got your number fast enough!”
“Yar; yar; yar。 Keep on laughing; pigbrain;” Davir said; his gruff demeanour abruptly restored as
he turned to look at Larn in tight…lipped derision。 “So; it seems our little puppy has claws。 Very
good; new fish。 Well done。 You made a joke。 Ha; ha; you are very funny。 But don’t let your head get
too big now。 The orks like nothing better than to see a new fish with a big head。 It gives them more
of a target to aim at。”
The repairs continued。 Having finally cleared the trench of earth; they laid down their shovels。 Then;
as Larn watched them; Bulaven and Scholar picked up an oblong sheet of metal lying across the
trench floor and pressed it against the ragged hole in the trench wall; holding upright it as Davir took
a wooden prop and used his shovel to hammer the prop in place to keep the sheet in position。
“There;” Davir said; checking the hole was fully covered and putting his weight against the prop
to make sure it was tight。 “That should hold it long enough for us to finish the repairs。”
“What now?” Larn asked。 “We have cleared the floor。 How do we repair the hole itself?”
“How?” said Davir。 “Well; first thing; you pick up your shovel again; new fish。 You see that pile
of earth over there?” he said; pointing towards the clods of frozen earth they had already moved
over to the corner of the trench。 “The pile you just moved? Well now; you take your shovel and
move it back over here。 Then; you use it to fill in the original hole。 I know; I know; you needn’t say
it。 With all this endless excitement; who can believe that anyone ever told you that life in the Guard
might be boring?”
“I don’t understand how this is supposed to work;” Larn said later; his hands blistered through his
gloves and his back aching from using the shovel as they refilled the hole in the trench wall with
soil。 “Even after we have filled the hole in; won’t the wall just collapsed again the moment we take
the prop away?”
“We don’t take the prop away; new fish;” Bulaven said; shovelling beside him。 “Not at first;
anyway。 First; we fill in the hole。 Next; we wet the soil。 Then; we tamp it all down and leave it to
freeze for a while。 Then; after a couple of hours; we finally remove the prop and the wall will be as
good as new。 Trust me; new fish; it always works。 You wouldn’t believe how many times we’ve had
to repair this trench since we first dug it。”
“Wet it?” Larn asked。 “Don’t we need a bucket then to fetch more water? We haven’t got much
left in our canteens。”
80
“Bucket? Canteens?” Bulaven said; pausing in his labours to look at Larn with raised eyebrows。
“We are repairing a trench wall; new fish。 We don’t use drinking water for that。”
“But then; what do we use?” Larn asked; beginning to feel foolish as he realised the others were
smirking at him。
“What do we use; he says;” Davir said; rolling his eyes towards the heavens。 “My broad Vardan
backside。 I swear; new fish; just when I was starting to think you might not be a total idiot you say
something stupid and ruin my good opinion of you。 If it helps you to answer your question; here are
a couple of hints。 One; it is always better to use warm water when repairing trench walls in frozen
conditions。 Two; every human being carries a ready supply of the stuff in question about their
person。”
“Warm?” said Larn; a new understanding slowly dawning on him。 “You mean we…”
“Ah; finally; he understands;” Davir said。 “Yes; that’s right; new fish。 And guess what? It’s your
turn first。 Now; get up there and start pissing。 I only hope to hell you haven’t got a nervous bladder。
Emperor knows; I have better things to do with my time than standing around here waiting for you
to piss。”
“What about your own world then; new fish?” Bulaven asked afterwards; as they sat in the trench
waiting for the newly repaired wall to freeze。 “You asked me about Vardan before。 What was your
own homeworld like?”
Trying to think of an answer; for a moment Larn was quiet。 He thought about his parents’ farm;
the endless golden wheatfields swaying in the breeze。 He thought of his family; all of them sitting at
their places around the table in the kitchen as they made ready for their evening meal。 He thought of
that last beautiful sunset; the sky reddening as the fiery orb of the descending sun fell slowly
towards the horizon。 He thought of the world he had left behind; and of all the things he would
never see again。
It all seems so long ago and far away now; he thought。 As though all those things were a million
kilometres away from me。 The sad thing is they are even farther away than that。 Not just a million;
but millions of millions of kilometers; however far it was we came in that troopship。
“I don’t know;” he said at last; unable to find the words to say what he really felt。 “It was
different anyway。 A lot different from this place。”
“Hnn。 I think our new fish is starting to feel homesick;” Davir said。 “Not that I blame him; you
understand; any place would seem rosy when compared to this damn stinkhole。 You find me in a
strangely magnanimous mood however; new fish; so let me give you a piece of advice。 Whatever
wistful longings you may harbour for the world of your birth; forget them。 This is Broucheroc。
There is no room for sentiment here。 Here; a man must keep himself hard and tight if we wants to
live to see tomorrow。”
“Is that it then?” Larn asked。 “I remember Scholar told me you were all that had survived from
over six thousand men。 Is that how you did it? By keeping yourselves hard and tight?”
“Ah; now there you have touched upon an interesting question; new fish;” Scholar said。 “How
was it we survived when so many of our fellows didn’t? You can be sure it is a regular topic of
conversation hereabouts。 Each man has hi