“I value life. That is why I fight to protect it.” — Ibram Gaunt
Dan Abnett’s First and Only, the opening novel in Gaunt’s Ghosts, makes the dystopian universe of Warhammer 40,000 feel big by bringing its perspective down to ground level. Rather than focusing on towering superhuman warriors, it follows ordinary soldiers surviving extraordinary horrors with training, stubbornness, and whatever trust they can place in one another. That approach is the book’s biggest strength. There is plenty of explosive science-fiction action, but the real appeal is its humanity: these people are vulnerable, frequently mistreated, and painfully aware that the enormous empire they serve considers their lives expendable.
The story follows Colonel-Commissar Ibram Gaunt and the Tanith First and Only, a regiment whose name carries an entire tragedy. Their homeworld, Tanith, was destroyed by Chaos, leaving the evacuated soldiers without a home to return to. They are survivors carrying the remains of their world’s identity into somebody else’s war. That gives the familiar military-fiction idea of a close-knit regiment an extra emotional edge. Their shared background matters because it is something they can no longer replenish or revisit. Behind the nickname “Ghosts” sits a loss that makes their continued existence feel both defiant and desperately fragile.
Abnett throws these men into the Sabbat Worlds Crusade, where fighting the enemy is only part of the problem. A conspiracy within the Imperial military draws Gaunt and his soldiers into a struggle involving rival commanders, divided loyalties, and dangerous ancient technology. Without spoiling the major turns, the threat does not arrive exclusively from across the battlefield. The Ghosts also have to survive the ambitions of people supposedly fighting on their side. This gives the novel a streak of bitterness: serving the Imperium does not mean the Imperium will look after you, or even give you a fair chance.
Where First and Only really earns its place is in its down-in-the-dirt portrayal of the average soldier’s life. The early trench fighting on Fortis Binary is not presented as a glorious opportunity to become a legend. It is miserable, dangerous work, made worse by commanders who fail to use the Ghosts’ abilities properly. These are lightly equipped scouts, yet they are pushed into grinding combat where bombardments, gas, and deteriorating morale wear them down. Their immediate concerns are survival and doing their jobs, while the larger military machine treats them as pieces to move around regardless of the human cost.
Despite being set in the 41st millennium, the novel often feels like a combination of World War I trench warfare and World War II urban combat. The trenches evoke the misery of soldiers sheltering under bombardment, while the street fighting brings a tighter, more immediate danger to the action. Lasguns and distant planets supply the science-fiction backdrop, but the experience remains recognizably human. Soldiers still have to keep their heads down, navigate hostile ground, and trust the people beside them. The effect is unsettling: humanity has reached the stars without leaving its worst military habits behind.
That ground-level perspective also shapes the book’s sense of day-to-day military life. Even when the plot becomes more dramatic, attention stays on the relationships that make a regiment function: confidence in a commander, resentment toward outsiders, personal loyalties, and friction between soldiers from different backgrounds. Abnett understands that an army is not one seamless organization simply because everyone wears an Imperial uniform. Different regiments bring different traditions and assumptions, and those differences can become dangerous. The Ghosts’ stealth-focused approach contrasts with other units’ equipment and discipline, making the military feel like a collection of distinct cultures rather than an interchangeable crowd with guns.
Gaunt holds that complicated mixture together, and he makes a strong central character because his authority comes with competing responsibilities. As both colonel and commissar, he represents military command and institutional discipline, yet his concern for his soldiers gives him a more personal stake than simply completing orders. Much of the novel’s character work concentrates on him, including episodes from his past that help explain his present struggles. He is capable and heroic, certainly, but his most interesting quality is the effort required to lead people through a system that can punish good judgment and reward destructive ambition.
The action is another clear selling point. Abnett gives the book variety instead of relying on one enormous battle to carry everything. Trench warfare, fighting aboard a ship, urban pursuits, and close-quarters violence create different kinds of pressure. The smaller encounters can be especially effective because they strip away the scale of the setting and make survival immediate. A knife fight does not need an explanation of galactic politics to feel dangerous. The universe may be absurdly vast, but a vulnerable human body still gives the reader something concrete to worry about.
The book is not equally smooth in every department, though. Its movement between campaigns, conspiracy, and scenes from Gaunt’s earlier life can make it feel episodic rather than seamless. There is a connecting storyline, but the transitions sometimes expose the separate pieces instead of making them disappear into one continuous experience. The supporting cast also has to compete with the emphasis on Gaunt himself. As an opening novel, it establishes a regiment worth following, but it does not always give its individual members as much room as the premise promises. The foundations are engaging; some of the construction remains visible.
The internal rivalry is both a strength and a possible frustration. Anyone expecting a straightforward campaign against Chaos may be surprised by how much attention goes to conflict within the Imperial Guard. That feels like the right choice, even if the conspiracy occasionally distracts from the everyday soldiering. Overall, First and Only is an energetic, grim, surprisingly personal introduction to Gaunt’s Ghosts. Abnett makes the soldiers’ skills, losses, and loyalties matter inside a setting built to dwarf them. These men are expected to keep fighting after losing almost everything, and their struggle makes the distant future feel uncomfortably close to home.
