Calth sat at the edge of his bunk cleaning his gear and occasionally commenting colorfully about how much he hated the Cadian armor. Sure is worked for Regular infantry, but for men like the 52nd it would be murder. None of the men had ever worn anything as heavy or cumbersome, even in the PDF almost all wore variants of the traditional uniform. Calth could already tell the armor would make climbing and infiltration harder then it already would be. First chance he got, he would dump the armor and get something respectable.

Calth sat on his bunk, checking through the contents of is standard issue Medical kit. The contents were a little lack luster but pretty much all he needed to keep his platoon alive. The Sound of unfamiliar voices at the entrance to the barracks snapped his attention away from his medical kit.
Putting down his kit Calth reached for his pack of pre-rolled Lho-sticks, watching as the Lancer verbal assault played out. With a sigh he looked to the man laying on his bunk next to Calth "Kaiser helfen ihnen ... Ihre Pferde weigern sich, sie zu ficken oder so?" he says in Jerman Causing the young trooper to chuckle "Sie brauchen ein Versteck. Wir sollten nicht zulassen, dass sie so sprechen." He responded quickly as he began to fiddle with his knife. With a slight smile Calth hands the boy a Lho-stick "Take a nap Kamerad, We are going to need it when we arrive to where ever we are going."  He muttered in low gothic as he went back to counting the contents of his issued kit and ensuring everything is in working order.

Emperor knew Calth was a loyal guardsman, but there were times he wanted to space a couple of the Lancers. He knew some of the mwere alright, with a few being considered friends as they have  on occasion traded Lho-sticks and alcohol. With a slight chuckle Calth thought about the sweet wine the Lancer officers and NCO's enjoyed, compared to the Uzanian stock of alcohol which tasted bitter and knocked most outsiders on there arse.