Life is cheap, but BattleMechs are not. And yet, in a culture torn by war and blind destruction, there is something--the human quality--which sets Man apart from the machines. An inspection of the warfare which kills men would be incomplete without careful examination of that which makes Man what he is. This column, in this and futun issues of BattleTechnology, will present glimpses into that humanity, the spirit and soul of those who are warriors ... but who are also men and women. They are more than warriors. They are Human. Throughout the history of Mankind, Warriors have created their own art: writing, songs, poetry, paintings, means of communicating with others that which they could not share in any other way. Music--whether epic ballad or camp ditty--has long been one way in which a warrior could express his feelings about those things which mattered to him: fear, honor, duty, bravery, victory, grief, loneliness, comraderie, boredom, anger humor ... the list is as long as any list oi human emotion. In the feature article MechWarrior: Mind and Machine--which discussed aspects of modern MechWarrior training, mention was made of the practice of apprenticing young Warriors-to-be to an experienced Warrior, one who could literally remold the raw material of raw recruits into the image of.. a Warrior. There has always been need for such an individual, from the Centurions of Rome to the Marine D.I.s of the 201, Century to the Weapons Masters of today's Mercenary BattleMech companies. The following song--one of numerous extant versions--has no original author or version; it is simply one of those camp songs which arose within the fellowship of men who had served as apprentices under a particular training master. Only a few of the many extant verses--those suitable for a family publication--are recorded here. Its object, Major Sergei Vang, also known as "Death's Head" because of his hairless, battle-scarred appearance, is Senior Weapons Master at the Meistmorn Academy on Doneval If. Hundreds of MechWarriors in service today are graduates of his techniques forturning civilians into warriors--techniques which have changed little since the days of Ceaser's legions. When you've traced that faulty circuit and you think you might be through, Then it's muster for inspection with full kits and weapons, too! Then you wish that you were dead; you say you'd really rather hang Than to be a 'Mech apprentice to old Death's Head Vang! Left! Right! Left! Right! Weapons up! Close in tight! Left! Right! Left! Right! Rockets armed! Prepare to fight! Oh, in Death's Head's unit, boy, you'd better learn to shoot 'Cause if you miss the target, you'll connect with Death's Head's boot. Then it's back to simulators and ten hours going bang Just because you are apprenticed to old Death's Head Vang! Left! Right! Left! Right! Weapons up! Close in tight! Left! Right! Left! Right! Rockets armed! Prepare to fight! With a horrid grinning skull's face that could make a grown 'Mech cry A reactor for a heart and a scanner for an eye, If he calls you up to chew you out, you'll say you'd rather hang But you'll take it, you're apprenticed to old Death's Head Vang! Left! Right! Left! Right! Welcome, boy, you're in the gang! Left! Right! Left! Right! Warrior now for Death's Head Vang! Back to BattleTechnology Table of Contents Back to BattleTechnology List of Issues Back to MagWeb Magazine List © Copyright 1987 by Pacific Rim Publishing. This article appears in MagWeb (Magazine Web) on the Internet World Wide Web. Other military history articles and gaming articles are available at http://www.magweb.com