stack them on the table before him。 As he did； Larn noticed that Bulaven’s face had grown suddenly
uneasy as though the big man had seen something in Vladek’s actions to worry him。
“What is it； Bulaven？” he asked。 “What have you seen？”
“A bad sign； new fish。” Bulaven said。 “Between me and you； a very bad sign indeed。”
“We are at Alert Condition Red；” Chelkar said； his face grave as he addressed the Guardsmen
standing before him while overhead the sound of explosions continued。 “Sector Command says we
can expect an assault。 A big one； probably timed to begin the moment this bombardment ends。
Looks like the orks are going to hit us hard this time。 Leastways； harder than any of the other attacks
we’ve had to deal with today。”
A few minutes had passed and in the wake of his conversation aster； Sergeant
Chelkar had ordered the men in Barracks Dugout One to arm themselves and assemble around the
iron stove for an impromptu briefing。 Scholar； Bulaven； Davir； Zeebers； the other fireteams； even
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Vladek and the one…armed cook Skench； stood in their battle gear listening intently to Chelkar’s
words； their expressions every bit as grave and serious as their sergeant’s。 Looking about him； Larn
saw that the easy and relaxed manner with which these men had enjoyed their time in the barracks
was gone now。 They were soldiers once more。 Guardsmen。 They were ready for war。
“I won’t lie to you。” Chelkar said。 “Things look grim。 Every other sector in the area is under
heavy assault and all reserve units are tied up elsewhere。 Which means no there is no potential for
reinforcements — at least not for several hours。 Worse； Battery Command is already tasked to the
limit； so we can’t expert artillery support either。 We still have our own mortars； of course； and our
fire support teams but； other than that； we are on our own。
“Now for the good news。 Sector Command has made it clear that if we lose here there is the
danger of a major ork breakthrough into the city。 Accordingly； they have ordered that we are to hold
this sector at all costs。 Stand or die； they say。 No matter how many orks come at us or how hard they
hit us； we are to hold on until we are reinforced； the ork assault fails； or the Emperor descends to
fight alongside us — whichever one of those comes first。 We hold the line。 I don’t care if hell itself
comes calling。 We hold the line no matter what。 Not that we have much choice here anyway； you
understand。
You all know what happens if we retreat。 The commissars don’t even bother with a court martial
anymore： it’s just a bullet in the back of the head and a place on the corpse…pyres。 This is
Broucheroc： between the orks and our own commanders； there’s just nowhere else left for us to go。
As for our plan of defence； I have ordered Vladek to distribute four extra frag grenades to each
man and one demolition charge per fireteam。 Once the assault begins we will hold the forward firing
trenches for as long as possible； only retreating to the dugout emplacements when the situation there
becomes untenable。 Then； once we’re at the dugout emplacements we will make a stand。 That’s as
far as we go。 After that； it’s hold the line or die。
“Are there any questions？”
No one spoke。 Silently； the Guardsmen stood gazing back at their sergeant with resolve and
determination etched into every line of their faces。 For better or worse； they were ready。
“All right； then；” said Chelkar。 “We have been in this situation often enough before to make
saying anything else irrelevant。 You all know what is ahead of us。 I will say only this。 Good luck to
every one of you。 And； fates willing； let us all see each other again when the battle is over。”
“Maybe it is The Big Push；” Larn heard one of the Vardans say as he hung the extra grenades
Vladek had given him on his belt and went over to join the other members of Fireteam Three。
“Emperor knows； it was bound to happen sometime。”
“It can’t be；” said another man nearby。 “General Headquarters would have told us。”
“Phah。 You are fooling yourself；” a third man said。 The damn generals refuse to even admit The
Big Push exists。
“When it finally does come they’ll be caught as much by surprise as the rest of us。”
The Big Push。 By then Larn had heard the phrase used several times already； whispered amongst
themselves by grim…faced Guardsmen as they stood in the dugout making final adjustments to their
bardment continued above them。 Each time he heard it； Larn
found something in the tone of the way they said the phrase that made him uneasy。 It was a tone； he
realised； of nervousness and quiet anxiety。 The tone of fear； he thought with a sudden shudder。
“Bulaven？” he asked the big man beside him。 “What is The Big Push？”
For a moment the Vardan was silent； his usually affable manner replaced by the bleak and
brooding expression of a parent who realises he can no longer protect his child from the dark
realities of the world。
“It is a bad thing； new fish；” Bulaven said。 “A story you could call it； I suppose。 Or a myth。 You
know when the preachers talk in church of the Last Judgement when the Emperor will finally step
forward from His throne once more and judge humanity for its sins？ The Big Push is like that。”
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“It is something in the manner of a folktale；” Scholar said； standing next to him。 “The Big Push
is the mythic apocalypse that every Guardsman in this city dreads。 A Day of Judgement； as Bulaven
puts it； when the orks will at last mount their long…expected final assault and the city of Broucheroc
will fall。 It is a nightmare； new fish。 The one thing that the defenders of this city fear more than
anything else。 And； as such； I am not surprised you heard it mentioned。 For the orks to launch so
many assaults across different sectors at once and coordinate them with artillery bombardment is
highly unusual。 So unusual in fact that it is easy to see in it the portent of something larger。”
“The Big Push is bullshit； new fish；” Davir said。 “A story that the mothers of this city scare their
children to sleep with； nothing more。 Put it from your mind。”
At that； they became silent and； looking at the faces of his companions； Larn saw the same thing
there as had been hidden in the whispers of the men he had heard discussing The Big Push to begin
with。
He saw fear。
And he was not reassured。
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
21：15 hours Central Broucheroc Time
Bookkeeping and the Tragedy of War — Matters of Tactics while Waiting for an Eternity to Pass —
Preparations and Preludes in the Trenches — Holding the Line — Shot in the Head and Saved by
Davir — Last Stand by the Dugouts — The Sound of Salvation
For Captain Arnol Yaab it had been a long and tiring day。 A day spent like every other day of the
last ten years in a cramped windowless office in the lower levels of the General Headquarters
building in the centre of Broucheroc； ceaselessly compiling the twice…daily Imperial Guard casualty
statistics from the reports and logs of the various Sectors Command throughout the city。
Sector 1…11； he wrote in a neat and ordered hand in the pages of the ledger before him。 12th
Coloradin Rifle Corps。 Commanding Officer： Colonel Wyland Alman。 Previous Strength： 638 men。
Total Casualties in Last Twelve Hour Period： 35 men。 Current Adjusted Strength： 603 men。
Percentage Loss： 5。49％。
Sector 1…12； he continued； carefully allowing the ink time to dry so as not to risk smudging the
previous entry。 35th Zuvenian Light Foot。 Commanding Officer： Captain Yiroslan Dacimol
（Deceased）。 Previous Strength： 499 men。 Total Casualties in Last Twelve Hour Period： 43 men。
Adjusted Strength： 456 men。 Percentage Loss： 8。62％。
Sector 1…13。 902nd Vardan Rifles。 Commanding Officer： Sergeant Eugin Chelkar （Temporary
Appointment）。 Previous Strength： 244 men。 Total Casualties in Last Twelve Hour Period： 247 men。
Current Adjusted Strength： …3。 Percentage Loss： 101。23％。
Abruptly； gazing down at the entry he had just written； Yaab became aware that there seemed to
be some problem with his figures。 101。23％？ That cannot be right； he thought。 How can a unit have
lost more than one hundred per cent of its original strength and be reduced to a current adjusted
strength of minus three？ It is an impossibility。 How can you have minus three men？
Pursing his lips in annoyance； Captain Yaab re…checked the figures in the Sector Command Beta
casualty log。 There； in black and white； the same statistic was confirmed。 Out of a total strength of
244 men； the 902nd Vardan had somehow conspired to lose no less than 247 of their number in the
last twelve hours。 Then； just as deep in his pen…pusher’s soul he began to fear he had made an error
that would see him reprimanded — or worse — posted to the frontlines； Yaab noticed a sheet of
paper clipped to the back of the log and realised he had perhaps found the source of the mistake。
It was a supplementary report； recording that a lander had crash…landed in Sector 1…13 at around
midday and deposited an additional 235 Guardsmen into the sector。 Ah； now that would account for
the discrepancy； Yaab thought； making a quick series of mental calculations。 An extra 235 men
would put the total strength of the sector at 479。 Then； the loss of 247 men would leave us with a
current adjusted strength of 232； constituting a percentage loss of 51。57％。 All in all； a much more
acceptable figure。
Happy again； Captain Yaab adjusted his ledger in line with the new calculations only to find
himself aggravated once more as he noticed the unsightly mess the alterations had made to the
clean； well…ordered columns of his figures。 Sighing as he returned to compiling his statistics； Yaab
tried to take comfort from the thought that it could not be helped。 It was the tragedy of his life that
certain amount of unsightliness was to be expected。
War； after all； could be a messy business。
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“Switch your comm…bead to our command net on frequency five；” Bulaven told Larn through the
roar of shellfire shaking the ground above them。 “You will know we are about to go when the
shelling stops。 Then； when we get the order； we run back to our firing trench。 No crouching or trying
to stay in cover this time； new fish。 You just sp