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On my first night in Foxhole, I didn’t fire a gun for hours. Instead, I was wandering around a city until I came across a fellow Colonial (my faction) and asked how I could be helpful. He put me to work in the scrap yards, harvesting scraps of scrap metal that we would load into a large container, load into the back of a truck and deliver to the local refinery. Our scrap became feedstock (or ‘bmats’) used to make guns, ammunition, vehicles, tools, clothing, explosives, sandbags – anything and everything our actual (virtual) comrades needed tens of miles away on the front line.

While I was working on the demolition, the guards were destroying one of our bases. Dozens of miles to the south, we had secured a Warden base of our own and pushed the front further west in a war that had been raging for over a real-time month.