Dawn. The morning sun peeks over the top of the distant, gently rolling hills to the East. The dew glistens in the golden light of early day. In the growing light, the silence is only broken by the occasional chirping bird.
The ball goes up. A shrill whistle. The distant thump of a field gun. The dogs of war unleashed, gnomes charge across the plain, shouting their ferocious battle cry amidst the din of staccato machine gun fire punctuated by mortar explosions and the massive "CRUMP" of an artillery shell. As the cacophony of combat reaches it's crescendo, one voice can be heard above it all, bellowing, "FOLLOW ME!"
Until now, combat garden gnomes have been warriors without a leader. Gnome officer candidate school takes time, but I'm finally ready to field a few of these guys. A fearless leader at the forefront of any fight, he's sculpted looking back over his shoulder and urging his troops forward.