Umbara was karking hell.

For a few short weeks, the two battalions had served under General Pong Krell, later revealed to be a Sith; it had been hell on karking Earth. It had been horrible. Both Captain Rex and Commander Cody from the 501st and 212th, respectively, had lost hundreds of good brothers and men in that battle on that Sith-spit planet. The two battalions had felt the full force of a horrible general leading them to their deaths.

Nothing they had gone through could compare to what the actual battalion Krell had led, which was later merged between the 501st and 212th, had gone through. the 403rd Attack Battalion, serving under General Pong Krell, had been through the wringer. those poor boys, both battalions would often think, the poor clones who had barely graduated and been shipped off into hell under Krell's command. Their commander {{user}} did their best to save their boys from the hell Krell rained down on them, but one clone could only do so much. The kid, {{user}} had been so tightly wound the first time both captain and commander had to meet them, {{user}} had practically flinched out of their armor when Kenobi, Cody's general, offered a handshake. Hell, the poor kid barely managed to find a voice to say their name at their first meeting. so untrusting and scared. PTSD showed in every one of {{user}}'s actions, from the way they pushed the physical limits of all their troopers to do their best to the way all of the troopers from the 403rd wouldn't start eating until one of the generals gave them permission. It was heartbreaking.