[h3]Sergeant Harald, Gallian Militia[/h3]

[b]'You're alright lass, don't worry.'[/b] The Sergeant tried to sound reassuring as he checked over Durandal's head wound, keenly aware that he had no damned idea how to treat it. He tried waving a can of ragnaid over it, just in case. [b]'Should have been wearing your helmet, Private.'[/b] He tapped his for emphasis. [b]'They can take a good hit, provided you're lucky.'[/b] Not that Durandal could be called lucky, after having a house collapse on her... But she seemed to have herself under reasonable control. He pulled up a chair and set in for a long night of watching her, making sure she didn't drift away into sleep. Seemed the best thing to do at the time.

[hr]

[u]0635 1st April 1935 EC
La Haye Sainte[/u]

Fortunately, it had been a quiet night. Harald's greatest fear had been an Imperial counter-attack in the early hours as the rest of the squad slept, but the road remained mercifully empty. Flicking away the the umpteenth cigarette of the night, he leant over to check on Durandal once more. She had stopped replying an hour or so ago, but didn't look like she had lost conciousness or anything; in all likelihood she had just fallen asleep after what, for her at least, must have been a brutal ordeal of a day. Not many soldiers lose their entire squad [i]and[/i] get drafted into another for a serious firefight in the same day. He lay the back of his hand across her brow, testing her temperature; more or less normal. The others wouldn't be up yet, not if they had any smarts. And that gave him time to prepare some brekkers.

An hour later, the first of them started to filter down into the wrecked kitchen, where Harald had commandeered the auger. [b]'Morning kids. I reckoned you could all do with a decent meal before we start work; hope you like beef.'[/b] Stocked full of fresh cut wood, the auger held two pans; one contained a thick looking stew complete with thickly cubed meat and vegetables, while the other was just hot water. [b]'Grab yourselves a mug; the owner left some tea and I'm sure they'd love to donate to the war effort.'[/b]


[h3]Private Alonso Bons, Gallian Militia[/h3]

[i]Why do I always get stuck with the meathead...[/i] Lack of sleep had worn away at Alonso's already frayed nerves, leaving him nervous and twitchy in the back of the APC as they trundled back off toward Le Haye Sainte. He tried not to look at the recruits they had picked up, unsure of how Carn had elicited their help. Maybe he didn't want to know. His gaze rested resolutely at foot level, praying the time passed quickly in the crisp morning air. It didn't. Eventually the silence proved too much and he ventured a peak at the four new soldiers. [i]Another Darcsen...[/i] At least there were no foreigners this time. After a long second, he tried to start a conversation. [b]'So... You guys uh, you seen much action?'[/b]