Platoon Command Squad

 This is an Imperial Guard Command Squad. It is worth 60 points.

 This is the Regimental Standard Bearer. His brilliant banner inspires whole platoon.

It does not frighten the men. Nor does it suck power from their lasguns while they sleep to sustain its own cursed existence.

 This is Master Vox Operator. He relays the orders of his commander with utmost precision.

It does not drown out cries of fear with static howls. The thing will not scream-cast maddened drumming at torturous volume to the infantry columns.

This is the Heavy Flamer. He burns the Heretic, the Mutant, and the Alien.

It is not a Heretic, a Mutant, or an Alien. It has never ripped trinkets from the hands of dying men to festoon a growing carapace of refuse.

This is the Platoon Medic. He works diligently to keep Guardsmen ready for combat.

It is not a carrion-beast which feasts upon dying men. It does not drag the wounded away, never to be seen again.

They are brave soldiers of The Emperor, nothing more.

Where is their commander? He will make himself known soon enough.