FRESH KRIEGSMEN, READ THIS.

(Some foreword. I didn't write this, I just copied it down onto text and made some slight edits. My hope is that it'll help people better understand their role of, and the mindset of a Kriegsman so we don't get more terrible players who slander the name of the faction like 555 or 919. Or Kurt. Please, read this in it's entirety and understand the meaning of it.)


You are a Death Korps Quartermaster. You were the second most valuable item in your original squad. The first most valuable item was a plasma gun. Every member of the squad was trained to operate the plasma gun in case the primary operator was killed. It was deemed inefficient to train every member of the squad to perform the duties of a Quartermaster. Therefore, arguably you were the most valuable member of the squad, but the plasma gun had seen decades of service. You had not.

You have been trained as a field medic since the age of 12. You performed your first field amputation eight days after beginning training. The procedure was not successful. Your equipment is generic and has been replaced many, many times. You no longer distinguish between your equipment and your body, as both are required for your purpose.

You are, to your knowledge, the only survivor of your joint-regimental campaign. You have been instructed to rejoin members of the Cadian Guard regiment to make efficient use of surviving guardsmen to bolster their ranks. They are most unlike what you are used too.

Sometimes, the members of your new squad do strange things. They spend hours talking to each other. You have to listen to make sure they are not giving you orders or conveying vital information without you knowing it. You do not want to appear weak. Sometimes, they make strange coughing sounds. You have asked them about this. They do not understand what you mean, and then they cough again, showing their teeth and grinning like a skull. You suspect it is an endemic, possibly a sign of weakness of the mind. You can ignore them. Your squad cannot. They are weak. They do not understand. Your skills are for those who can be saved. It is a waste of ammunition to end the life of the badly wounded. It is a waste of medicine to heal them. Your new squad does not understand.

Your new squad is inefficient. They disagree with each other. Intolerable weakness. Sometimes, they disagree with the orders the Sergeant gives them. Unthinkable. You were prepared to strip the corpse of the soldier who disagreed with the Sergeant, but the Sergeant did not execute him. You do not understand. Disobedience is death. At the age of ten you watched them line up and execute a platoon for failing to obey the precise letter of their orders. You do not understand how the Imperial Guard functions if orders can be questioned.

Your new squad fears death. They prefer to risk their missions rather than risk danger. You have seen situations where acceptable losses (up to 70% of the squad) would have lead to much a much more favorable outcome. Weakness of mind.

The equipment of your squad is unorthodox. They have extraneous items. Books that are not regimental issue, Items of decoration, Weapons that are not regimental issue, Modified uniforms and facial hair. Weakness. Unorthodox. It makes sorting the equipment of the dead difficult. Sometimes, members of your squad object to you removing certain items from corpses. You do not understand this. A dead soldier has no need for non-regimental gear, just as he has no need for the items and weapons issued to him by the Quartermaster.

You sometimes wonder if you have been placed in a squad of raw recruits. They fear the sight of the dead. They fear the enemy. They fear death. They are undisciplined. They are inefficient. They are weak. You cannot make them stronger; you can only stop them from failing. You must do your duty. Your squad is weak. One soldier asked for pain relief as you stitched a minor facial wound. You did not understand. He had received some serious injury that had evaded your notice? Did he not understand that all medical reagents are to be prized and used only when required?

He complained that your stitching would mark his face. You did not understand why he was telling you this. Scarring is a part of the healing process. The soldier did not want to be disfigured, it was explained to you. You did not understand why he feared a minor scar. You explained that it would in no way impede his combat effectiveness. He did not cease his complaints for several days. Intolerable weakness.

Your squad asks strange unimportant questions that are not orders but require a response. The squad was talking about their home worlds. You were not listening. It was not important. You do not speak to them outside of conveying mission-critical information, to do otherwise is inefficient, useless. You have no need, or want to socialize. You were inspecting the hive-vault for hidden sniping positions while recumbent. One of your squad members asked you about Krieg.

You told her.

She did not ask again. The squad members did not continue talking. Entirely acceptable. Some showed signs of fear. Entirely unacceptable.

The Sergeant dismissed you at camp. He said you were to report at dawn. You assumed that he or another officer would conduct training and inspections until your appointed sleep cycle. No officer appeared. You stood in the empty barracks and waited.

Another member of your squad told you to come with them to the regimental mess hall. The soldiers eat here in great numbers. The food is prepared nearby, not packaged and sealed. It was disgustingly flavorful. You prefer your rations. You still have a few Krieg rations in your kit. You are saving them for the Feast of the Emperor's Ascension.

The mess hall was disorganized. There was so much noise. You found a corner and ate alone.

You went back to the barracks to wait. The squad arrived eventually and you were told to prepare for the sleep cycle. You had your kit stowed and cleaned well before anyone else. Shirkers. Unorganized. Unacceptable.

The sleep cycle here is too long. After precisely four hours you woke up. The rest of the squad was not awake. There were no lights. You were confused. You stared at the ceiling until the Sergeant arrived two and half hours later.

Sometimes, you feel very alone. You fear you may be defective. Weak. Inefficient. You shake off these thoughts. A Kriegsman that cannot perform as ordained cannot earn his place beside the Emperor in the afterlife. You WILL earn your redemption, or be damned for eternity. You fear only failure.

Staring at the ceiling of the barracks for two and a half hours every sleep cycle is not efficient. You do not want to wake your squad. They are weak. They require more rest than you do.

You have memorized every Imperial feast day your old regiment celebrated. You spent two nights memorizing the feast days of your new regiment. Some dates conflict. You spent several more nights attempting to combine the two without conflict.

Sometimes, you take out the knuckle bones and look at them. They are from your first kill. They are polished brown and yellow now. They are very small. You were ten years old when you killed him. He was a deserter from your training regiment. He ran from the tunnel-warren and to the surface one night. Your squad was ordered to hunt him down. You remember his serial number (104-2205-P), but you do not remember what he looked like. The knuckle bones were much bigger when the Training Officer handed them to you. perhaps they have been worn down, even though you have kept them safe in a cotton bag in your kit.

The God-Emperor of Mankind directs the fate of all humankind. Without him, humanity could not exist. It is by his will alone that ships travel from world to world, that the wise govern, that men live and die, and that the functions of the universe continue as ordered.

Once, Krieg failed the God-Emperor of Mankind and rejected his Imperium. We continue to pay the price for our disobedience. We are less than the least of vermin in the sight of the Emperor, the name Krieg bears no glory, only shame. We are barely above the traitors to the Imperial cause we triumph over. We serve the Imperium wholly, without reservation. Nothing held back. Nothing of our own. We fight those who would destroy the Emperor's vision and cast down the works of man. We will not fail again. We cannot fail again.

The soldiers here are weak. They are easily distracted. The regiment has women in it. Your Sergeant is a woman. Krieg regiments do not have female soldiers, though you have seen them in the training regiments. All Kriegsmen train. All Kriegsmen. We will not fail again.

You do not understand many of the things your new squad members say or do. They say so many things. They have a language you do not understand. It is not important. It will not lead to victory. It is a distraction. You are beginning to hate them for it. It is a traitorous thought, hating a soldier of the Imperial Guard. You punish yourself for it by training harder.

The Cadians are proud; Kriegsmen are humble. The Cadians have hand-marked weapons and fine armour; a Kriegsman needs nothing more than generic tools and anonymous weapons. The Cadians are lead by the mad, the brilliant, the inspiring and the quick. Krieg regiments are lead by the survivors.

They have very little in common, aside from a few background details.
The Cadians are still human beings, after all.

The cadians are a brutal fighting force, trained to stand at the gate of the Imperium and hold the door shut... or block the aperture with bodies. Nevertheless, they are still human. They breed leaders and warriors and geniuses. They adapt to face their foes. They are true soldiers facing the impossible and unimaginable very day.

But the Kriegsmen? The Kriegsmen are wind-up toys, machines made from broken and beaten children. They are the sort of "human beings" that are institutionalized in the modern world. They cannot function as a human being. Any soldier from another regiment could retire and live a peaceful life. But the Kriegsmen are no more than tools built for brutal war. They have become less than human to fight things that aren't human at all, and suffered for it.