What a Time It Was(Cold War AH/IC)

[Kisinger]

OOC|IC|Map

Archive|Theme

The Year is 1965, the world now sits on a ever changing table has enemies use espionage and sabotage to undermine each others interests. Proxy wars wage on as Superpowers use their neighbors against each other in this never ending struggle for more power. This is the Cold War ladies and gentlemen! Of course, this isn't the cold war we all have learned about and grown up in. This roleplay will be focused on a player created world, where sides are just now beginning to formulate. As well, I'd like to note that this is alternate history, no nation should be a copy of itself and if anything there should be some major or at the very least notable differences.

Staff

OP Kisinger

Co-OP(s)Liecthenbourg, Elepis

It's January 1st, 1965, have at it you glorious savages

[Liecthenbourg]

The Colony of Southern Rhodesia



Sit Nomine Digna

Chapter I: Is This Goodbye, My Great-Aunt Britannia?

Ian Smith,
Prime Minister of
Southern Rhodesia

Salisbury, Southern Rhodesia

"Mr. Prime Minister, you're on in two minutes."

Smith smiled a winning smile, intertwining his hands upon the desk he was sat behind. Sprawled to his back was a flag of Great Britain and in front of him, directly opposite him in this office he called home for most of the day, was the busy-body that was a BBC Camera Crew. The room was well furnished and Smith sat tall on his chair, behind that immense desk. It had been cleared of much for the televised broadcast, most of its papers shuffled to one side, its cluster of pens neatly arranged into several ornate pots. A little flag sat on the desk, that of the colony, and Smith wore a little pin of the two flags crossing on his left suit breast. His staff shuffled about in front of him, yet behind the camera. The Bush War, they called it. Terrorism, Smith called it. The colony was beset by insurgents and terrorists, deadly communists whom had tainted the minds of the African man and made him a rabid beast with little abandon for his fellow man. Rhodesia found herself back to back with Mozambique and South Africa, fighting against an enemy of nationalism and communism. The old-way would be burned with the farmsteads they raided it seemed, but Smith would have none of it. He clenched his fist in thought, skin tightening and veins protruding as he did so. A hand shot up opposite him, holding up its five digits. It was a white hand. Much whiter than those of Rhodesia - for the crew had come from southern England.

5, 4, 3, 2...

And the lights and cameras came on and Smith gave a decisive yet calm glance at the camera. His complexion glistened in the sun, his brow slightly shuffled, and keeping his cool he parted his lips as he began to speak. Out came words of patriotism. "Good afternoon, citizens of Britain. You may know me, you may not, but no doubt you have heard of fair Rhodesia: the colony of Southern Rhodesia. I am her Prime Minister; Ian Smith. I come to you today, here with the help of the BBC, to ask of you something. My practices and policies seem to come into conflict with the ideals of your former Prime Minister; the intelligent and honourable Mr. Macmillan or, as he was affectionately called, 'supermac'. I am critiqued by the Labour Party and your leader of the opposition, Harold Wilson, and yet I do not come to know the stance held by your current Prime Minister, Mr. Butler. But I come to ask you Britain, my cousins on the isle of the azure plain, for help. When Britain was shaken to her core, with the fascist advancing from Germany, I came to your aid. Rhodesia came to your aid. I lost a portion of my face flying for King and Country and many soldiery of the Royal Rhodesian Regiment perished fighting the 'Desert Fox' in the sands of the Sahara. Much like the rest of the valiant Empire, too did Rhodesia trudge off to war to fight for her. But now I must ask of you to help me, not as a repayment. I do not intend on holding you to some promise that never existed; we were citizens of the Empire. We had our duty. But I come to plead to you; to help Rhodesia in her time of need as we did with you. Our way of life, the way of life since Cecil Rhodes before us, is under threat from the dreaded foe we call communism. The stalinists and marxists and leninists plot with their dagger in the dark and as Africa turns her back on us, we happy few are left to fend for ourselves. I appeal to your sense of compassion, your sense of comradeship, do not let us out on the cold winter's night. Keep us in your Commonwealth. I beg of you, do not let this be goodbye, Great-Aunt Britannia." He stood up, defiantly, his suit slick and smooth. With a decisive salute, his RAF medals glistening in the light, his Spitfire tie hanging proudly, he gave a slight smile. "God Save the Queen."

With the cameras slowly turning off and a flurry of people crowding the Prime Minister with handshakes and pats on the back, only one thought crossed the man's mind. "Would this be enough to get a public opinion in Britain? Would his cry for help be answered? Or would Rhodesia be cast away from the Commonwealth? Were it to come to that, U.D.I. A dreaded prospect. One of a traitor. But whom is the traitor when you are cast out into the cold?" He smiled the best he could for the photos that were taken in solidarity amongst that office, he shook many hands. Smiled at many people he had never met, thanked the camera crew. And was confused. Perhaps at loss. Only time would tell of his success.

For outside, did the drums of war sound at the beat of the heart of the nation.

[Caltarania]

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FEDERATION OF EUROPEAN REPUBLICS
FÉDÉRATION DES RÉPUBLIQUES EUROPÉENNES
VERBAND DER EUROPÄISCHEN REPUBLIKEN



Chapter 1 - The European Century

Theme: "Choral des Adieux"

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Paris, French Republic
January 1st, 1965

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DONG, DONG, DONG went the bells of Notre Dame de Paris, as they brought in the new year. As ninety-sixty-four turned to ninety-sixty-five, fireworks shot up into the pitch black, and began to fill the Parisian night sky with radiant colour and deafening sound. The first President of the Federation of European Republics, Charles de Gaulle, looked out from the balcony of his Parisian home over the city, as Europeans across it embraced the coming of the new year. He reached for the bottle of Moet & Chandon's Dom Perignon; it was of the finest vintage, and from the greatest country on Earth; Europa. He poured the champagne into his glass, swirled the liquid around, and then took a sizable sip.

"Ceci est un beau millésime. [This is a fine vintage.]" de Gaulle said to his secretary. She silently nodded in return.

After her rebuttal, de Gaulle turned once again to face the great city of Paris, as fireworks lit up the night sky. Il est vraiment la plus grande ville sur la Terre [It truly is the greatest city on Earth], he thought to himself. He looked upwards, again, as pilots of the European Federal Air Force flew their show-planes in beautiful formations across the Parisian night sky, leaving behind them streaks of blue and gold; the colours of Europa. Another column flew past, this time with the colours of the French Republic (blue, white and red) behind them. De Gaulle could hear the cheering crowds for miles around, as Parisians sang songs of the new year, such as Choral des Adieux. He turned to face his secretary again.

Ce sera une année difficile pour l'Europe ... mais il est aussi une année d'espoir. Je crois que ce sera le début du siècle européen, Mlle Stefani. Ceci est notre siècle. [This will be a difficult year for Europe... but it also is a year for hope. I believe that this is the beginning of the European Century, Miss Stefanie. This is our century.] de Gaulle said to his secretary, as she once again nodded silently in return. De Gaulle was starting to think that she was a little too shy and reserved, truth be told.

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Near Lübeck, German Republic
January 3rd, 1965

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General Manuel Gutiérrez Mellado stood atop his Europa 1 tank, arms firmly behind his back, looking out across the inner German border, towards the Soviet-held eastern länder of the German Republic. It was a violation of all that the European Federation held sacred; European land held by communists. The Federation of European Republics did not recognise the Soviet puppet government in eastern Germany; as far as they were concerned, eastern Germany was a constituent part of the German Republic under temporary occupation. Mellado hoped that the occupation would come to an end as soon as possible.

"Todos los días rezo para que el Comando Central nos da la orden de cruzar la frontera. [Everyday I pray that Central Command gives us the order to cross that border.]" he said to his staff. "Sería el mayor honor para mí dirigir la carga contra el Oso del Este, y librar a Europa de la tiranía por última vez. [It would be the greatest honour for me to lead the charge against the Eastern Bear, and rid Europe of tyranny one last time.]" he continued.

His staff nodded and made gestures of approval, but Mellado knew their true feelings; they did not want to charge to their deaths against the Russians. Open war would, in this day and age, mean nuclear war... that is not something that anyone dreams of. But Mellado had his hopes. He hoped that the European Federal Army would be able to make enough gains to prevent the Soviets from winning any possible war... but every scenario he thought up would inevitably lead to a nuclear exchange. And Europa - at the current time - had far fewer warheads than the USSR, that was for certain.

Well, for now Mellado could dream about his glorious crusade across Eastern Europe, he supposed. It may not even be so outlandish, either... every day, more European troops moved to the Iron Curtain, and every day he wondered if Central Command was preparing to launch a preemptive strike against the Russians. But they surely weren't... right?

[Senkaku]

中华人民共和国



"Communism is not love. Communism is a hammer which we use to crush the enemy." - Mao Zedong

Chapter One: Great Conversations in Elegant Rooms

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Beijing
Great Hall of the People
Office of the Standing Committee

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"This poses a potential setback." Chen Yun looked mildly irritated. "British intervention in Rhodesia would pose an issue for ZANU, and thus be a problem for us. The Congo needs an adequate buffer zone to protect it from these oppressive imperialist pigs, at the very least, and frankly given the horrors they continually visit on the population I once again would like to say I support intervention to the extent that we can do something to actually free the Rhodesian blacks."
Zhou Enlai nodded. "It does seem likely that the British will accept the request, too. Given our recent triumph in helping to bring Zanzibar and Tanganyika together, and Nyerere's increasing openness towards us, as well as progress with the Congolese, we should be vigilant against Western intervention that could prove a setback." The Chairman sat back, thinking. "Comrade Peng, what can the People's Liberation Army do to increase aid to ZANU and the Congolese?"
"Well, this ties into a question I actually had. With the J-7 entering full-scale production, I anticipate that we'll be retiring much larger quantities of J-5s, J-6s, and other aircraft than we have in its previous production runs, because it makes little sense to keep large quantities of increasingly obsolete aircraft around. What is to be done with them? It sounds as if you, Comrade Zhou, and Comrade Chen, want to send many of them to Africa to bolster ZANU, the Congo, and Tanzania, but I had been going to suggest dispatching many of them to the Vietnamese and some to the Koreans. Vietnam will need support, if the offensives they have been communicating with us about are to be successful."
"Do we have a clear picture yet of how many planes will be delivered per month?", Deng Xiaoping asked quietly. Lin Biao intervened.
"Not yet- full-scale production has only been going at the Shenyang Aircraft Factory. As other factories are brought online to serve this project, production numbers are expected to increase fairly significantly through February. It's in full production, but it'll take time to retool some of the factories that are going to be used. I would say probably around three to four hundred planes per month, but it's difficult to really say."
"As Comrade Lin says," Peng intoned with a serious nod. "We should prioritize where we're going to be sending the aircraft that are being phased out of service. They'll be phased out at half the speed that new aircraft are coming in, as we discussed, but that amounts to between one hundred and fifty and two hundred old aircraft per month that are now available."
"What is the January forecast for production, Comrade Lin?", Chen Yun inquired.
"At present rates, we expect two hundred and fifty-six J-7 aircraft to be completed by the end of the month, but the actual figure could be lower. I've tried to ensure that reporting is accurate from our overseers, but sometimes figures get inflated slightly even so."
"Let's say we have one hundred aircraft," Peng said. "What percentage of them should be sent to which people? Once we agree on a percentage we can simply apply that to future production rates. I would propose five aircraft be sent to ZANU, ten to the Congolese, and ten to Tanzania. The ZANU planes would likely have to be based in the Congo. I would send fifty planes to Vietnam, and the remaining twenty-five to Korea, since Korea is not actively fighting, as the Vietnamese are."
"That sounds agreeable to me," Zhou said. "Does anyone have any objections?"
There was silence for a moment, and then Chen Yun spoke again. "What land equipment can the PLA provide to the Africans? I doubt a few old MiGs will turn the tide, quite frankly- do we have armored vehicles, anti-aircraft systems, small arms?"
"We are already providing large quantities of arms and ammunition to the Congolese military, ZANU, and to a lesser extent the Tanzanians. But I suppose some Type 58 tanks could be provided as well," Lin Biao said. "And perhaps we could offer some HQ-1s- those would prove formidable against British and Rhodesian warplanes. Both would also be helpful for the Vietnamese to have in larger numbers, in light of their upcoming plans to attack more vigorously- shall I draw up a manifest, after the meeting, for us to go over?"
Zhou nodded. "That would be excellent, Comrade Lin- also come up with estimates for how many advisers we would need to send, especially to Africa, to help train our partners with these systems. Do you have a report for us on the Type 092?"
"No major setbacks to report as of my return from Jinxi. If nothing comes up, the first vessel will be ready for sea trials by May. Analysis of the last missile test is nearing completion, overall the missile performed according to specifications and should also be ready for testing on board the submarine when it starts its trials."
"Very good. May we adjourn for a moment? I need to use the restroom."

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POST SUMMARY:

-Chinese top leadership has agreed among themselves to make J-5 and J-6 fighters available to their African partners, in addition to increased quantities of small arms and ammunition, Type 58 tanks, and a significant number of HQ-1 surface-to-air missiles (copies of the Soviet S-75 Dvina). They will also be supplying increased quantities of weaponry to their fellow Asian Communists, North Korea and North Vietnam (particularly North Vietnam). Advisers will be sent to help train local troops in the use of such systems (particularly HQ-1s, aircraft, and to a lesser extent tanks).
-The Type 092 SSBN project is nearing completion, with no major setbacks in construction of the lead vessel or the testing of the SLBM system it will be equipped with.

[Kisinger]

Союз Советских Социалистических Республик
Soyuz Sovetskikh Sotsialisticheskikh Respublik
Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
Глава первая: Заказы

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Белорусская Советская Социалистическая Республика
Января Первая Девятнадцать Шестьдесят пять

лейтена́нт Dmitri Ludniv, had a remarkable record in the Army of the Glorious Soviet Union, including a recommendation for a генера́л-майо́р residing in Moscow. Those around him saw him as what the perfect Soviet Soldier should be, disciplined, loyal to the Soviet Union, and a dedicated worker. He had graduated out of the Soviet Military Academy in Leningrad in early nineteen fifty five after which he was assigned to a rear unit in the 41st Tank Gaurds Unit of which he 'served with remarkable skill and discipline' he would then ride up the ranks to лейтена́нт at the Smolensk military base as a instructor, while not remarkably brutal, he knew how to get new recruits to comply with orders. Now, on New Year's Day, he was instructing a platoon on proper firearms management of an AK-47.

Standing in front of a small fire lit by the shooting range at the base as light snowfall touched the ground around him, turning around to a table behind him, he picked up one of the most beautiful pieces of art the Soviet Union. Turning back around he asked, "Ты знаешь, что это(Do you know what this is?)?"

A new recruit quickly replied, "Да, это АК-47.(Yes, an AK-47)"

Dmitri chuckled and with a slight tone of mockery gave the recruit a rebuttal, "Нет, товарищ, это самое прекрасное произведение искусства, вы всегда будете видеть, и единственное, что вам нужно будет увидеть.(No, Comrade, it's the most beautiful piece of art you will ever see, and the only thing you will want to see.)" Looking back at the table he picked up a magazine and turned off the safety of the weapon. Shoving the magazine in the rifle he spoke again, "Эта часть великолепной советской инженерии является наиболее широко экспортировали оружие в современном мире, способный убивать капиталистическую свинью на триста пятьдесят метров.(This part of the glorious Soviet engineering is the most widely exported weapons in the world today, capable of killing capitalist pig on the three hundred and fifty meters.)"

He smiled as he aimed the rifle down range at a target shaped in a humanoid fashion, switching the weapon from Automatic to single shot and offloaded three targets in a nice grouping at the center mass of the target. Turning around, a сержа́нт, Dmitri failed to place a name but the сержа́нт soon saluted, and spoke as he arrived, "Товарищ лейтенант, товарищ генерал запросил ваше присутствие немедленно.(Comrade Lieutenant, Comrade General has requested your presence immediately.)"

Without thinking, Dmitri returned the salute and without a moments noticed replied to the сержа́нт, "По мере того как товарищ генерал хочет. Хотя сержант, закончить инструктаж этих людей на славу АК-47.(As Comrade General wants. Although Sergeant finish coaching these people the glory of an AK-47.)" Nodding to the Sergeant, he quickly walked off to the General's Office.

Upon entering the Office, and nodding to the secretary, Dmitri walked into the Generals office, saluted and spoke in a clear even tone, "Товарищ генерал, вы просили мое присутствие?(Comrade General, you requested my presence?)" The General smiled, setting down his fork and knife and stood up leaning a tad forward with his gut slightly visible and returned the salute, he quickly returned to his seat and pointed at a chair in front of his desk.

Setting down the fork and knife, the General smiled and wiped his mouth with a napkin and set it back down, "Добрый день лейтенант, как ты?(Good afternoon, Lieutenant, how are you?)"

A nervous Dmitri replied, "Довольно хорошо товарищ, погода здесь замечательно.(Very good comrade, the weather is wonderful.)"

The General laughing, "Погода здесь действительно великолепны эй? Тогда вы действительно любите, где вы были отправлены рядом, чем лейтенант!(The weather here is really great? Then you will really love, where you have been sent to than lieutenant!)"

He smiled and asked, "Где я посылают товарищ генерал?(Where have I been sent Comrade General?)"

The General still laughing, "Для Замбии конечно! Вот ваши официальные заказы, а также отчет о продвижении в звании полковника.(For Zambia, of course! Here is your official orders, as well as a report on the progress of the rank of colonel.)" Opening up his desk he grabbed a file and a few instruction manuals regarding various weapon systems. " О, и мне сказали, чтобы дать вам это! Вы можете уйти сейчас.(Oh, and I was told to give this to you! You may leave now.)"

Standing Dmitri opened the file and did a quick glance over seeing that he had been put in command of a Regiment of men to be sent to Zambia to assist Comrades of the Revolution, called the 'ZANU.' Setting down the file Dmitri saluted the General grabbed his new files and went straight to his former office to begin packing.

SUMMARY

• Dmitri is being sent to Zambia along with around fifteen hundred other men to help the ZANU as well as the Zambian Army and Airforce fight the Rhodesian Security Forces.
• Not included in the Above Post, the Soviet Union will be sending nearly twenty thousand AK-47s to the ZANU as well as a variety of other small arms. As well, Around 50 T-55s, and 20 T-62s. With a variety of other weapons systems.

[The New Greek Republic]

The Democratic People's Republic of Korea

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January 1st, 1965

Pyongyang Economic Session One

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Day One

Speaking with a trusted financial advisor as he walked towards the conference room, Kim Il-sung tried to settle his nerves. Despite the confidence he showed in front of his people, he still was in great fear that the Korean economy would soon stagnate or worse, decline. His attention went back and forth from the advisor's words to Kim's thoughts, fears, and anxiety. He knew the Soviets were keen on maintaining the nation's survival, but Kim sought to break free from those restraints and for his country to be able to be dependent on itself, hence his patented 'Juche', or self-reliance, ideology. It was about the time that Kim started to tune in to what his advisor was actually saying when they arrived to the meeting. With some chatter filling the air, Kim walked sat down and conversed a little with those around him about what was going on in the world and other nonsensical things until the time came for him to call the meeting to order. "Gentlemen, if you will, I ask that you sit down and be silent as I go over why we are convening today." Kim paused as those who weren't seated sat, and those who were seated watched him idly. "Today, we are here to begin the Pyongyang Economic Session One, a meeting that will act as an overall evaluation of the Democratic People's Republic of Korea's economy. This meeting will serve as a preliminary meeting to the Pyongyang Economic Session Two that will take place on the 20th of this month, January. To begin the meeting, we will evaluate the general economy. In my own personal opinion, I believe that our economy is too lateral. Meaning, that if some kind of disease comes and wipes out our crops, then what? We can't sell crops we don't have, nor can we feed our own people these imaginary crops. Economic strife and famine are huge risks we have with our current economy. Not only that, but it is an easy target for opposition in wartimes. You take our crops, you take our economy, you take our military funding, not only will our soldiers be hungry, but they'll be carrying sticks as weapons. What are we to do? The ten year plan failed to provide us with much improvement now we are stuck in a bad situation people."

"It can't go without saying that our Southern counterparts are in much of the same situation we are, if they don't change they will crumble as well." Yi Kian, Minister of Korea, said. "Right now we are at or above the same economic level as the South depending on who you ask, that is not our goal. Our goal is to go above and beyond what the South is doing and become an exceptional market for investors. Investors see our agrarian economy and move on, that needs to change."

"I'm sure everyone here will agree that we need to branch out our economy, just as I'm sure everyone will question as to how we will, but that is a question for another time. We're not hitting the root of what this meeting is for. Economic evaluation, for that, I hand the discussion to Mr. Koskov, a Soviet economic advisor that personally asked to come to." Kim said.

"Plain and simple, your economy will most certainly fail. I've gathered information and made reports, comparisons, and ran a million formulations and scenarios and your economy, unadjusted, will ultimately fail in anywhere from 50 to 60 years. Compared to the South, as Kian said, yes your country looks fine. Once you start to go outside of Korea, however, things start looking plenty different for the Democratic People's Republic. The economy looks weaker with each comparison and looks unsustainable for very long. I don't see much improvement possible with this style of economics unless you start to develop a fully functional, industrial economy which will be difficult for a small, upstart country like this one. My evaluation is stated in this report. Koskov placed a paper on the table and passed it around. "In the report, it clearly states expectation dates for stagnation, declination, and eventually, total collapse"

"With Mr. Koskov's statements, I would like to open the discussion of economic evaluation to everyone in the room. You are free to converse the topic amongst yourselves." Kim sat back, losing himself in thought over the economy. He knew the nation's economic situation was dire, but he hadn't realized how bad it really was. Total failure in only 6 decades? He would've never imagined such a thing. His great country, the one he founded with his bear hands, was doomed to fail. He felt helpless. This helplessness though, would ultimately be his motivation. Kim Il-sung heard the chatter, opinions of the economy being thrown around but they didn't matter anymore. Official reports have been given and the verdict was final. The Democratic People's Republic of Korea was doomed, but now, change was imminent.

[Western Pacific Territories]

The Union of South Africa and Namibia

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In the small suburbs in Johannesburg, two police cars were parked in the streets, this was a unfortunate sight for the residents here that was far too common. These areas were crime ridden, and the people here were for the most part colored. In the eyes of the whites, these two facts went hand in hand.

Three police men were gathered around the door of a building. The building consisted of three stories. The first one was home to a restaurant that sold breakfast, the second and their stories were home to apartment studios. One of the officers shouted.

"Maak die deur oop!" (Open the door!)

Somebody on the other side of the door ran over, and fumbled with the lock for a few seconds before he opened the door in shock. The man was the black restaurant owner.

"Maar ek betaal die huur!" (But I paid the rent!)

The officer laughed, then he and his fellow officers pulled out their batons. The owner looked terrified, and backed away.

"Wel, jy het nie genoeg betaal!" (Well, you haven't paid enough!)

The officers then walked forward, still holding their batons at the ready. The first officer grabbed the unfortunate man by the neck, whilst the two other officers moved around the owner, and handcuffed him. One of the officers pushed the man to his knees with a kick, and the two officers picked him up by the arms, dragging him in the ground whilst the first officer stepped outside. The two others followed behind the first officer.

The first officer stopped suddenly, and raised his hand. To this command, the two other officers stopped dragging the owner.

"Kom ons gaan haal die huur..." (Let's go collect the rent...)

The first officer walked into the restaurant whilst the other two held the owner in place. The officer walked up to the register at the cashier stand, and opened it. He started pulling banknotes out of the register. The local landlord wanted to add a pool to his residence, and he asked the local police kindly to help him acquire some money from a troublesome client who had a business located in one of his buildings. They were happy to oblige.

The officer started pulling hundreds of banknotes out of the register, South Africa still used the pound, and the register was full of them. Soon, there was £3000 on the counter. He divided it up, 300£ each would go to him and the other two officers, and the rest would go to the landlord. Now he set to work on the restaurant.

The landlord was about to evict the poor owner, and the officers knew that, so in their hatred for this filth on the otherwise decent city of Johannesburg they decided they'd wreck the place while they were still here. After all, he had earned it.

The officer started to tip over the chairs and tables in the store, much to the owners horror. The rattling of furniture tipping filled the room, and as the tables were turned, over, he walked up to the large windows of the store, and starting cracking, then breaking, the windows, and one by one they burst and the pieces of glass filled the floor and sidewalk outside. Then the kitchen was next. Coffee making machines were broken, stoves were busted, and cooking equipment was ruined, the store now a mess.

The officer picked up the banknotes, stuffed them into his pockets and headed into the hallway the others were in. He motioned them outside, and they walked out onto the sidewalk. The officer pulled the black owner, now in tears to his knees. The officer pulled out his baton, and whacked the man in the gut with it.

The man screamed out in pain, to the pleasure of the officer, and he continued to whack away at the defenseless man, striking him in the chest repeatedly, his shirt was now bloodied, and the owner injured, until the officer gave him the hardest whack he could pull into the jaw, busting out several teeth, and filling the mans mouth with blood.

The officers pushed him to the ground, and then the first officer informed them of their cut, then they took off the handcuffs, not wanting to get repremanded for losing their handcuffs, and then drove off into the swerving roads.

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The Johannesburg Daily

Price - 1£

Issue #376

Colored man injured by officers, dies in hospital.

Yesterday at 1:00 PM, in the southern suburbs of Johannesburg three officers, Korentar Unnlyn, Amuel Smyythan and Johan Paulsaan were dispatched to the property of a local landlord, who requested that his name be hidden to the editing board of The Johannesburg Daily, to collect rent from a unruly black restaurant owner who had a reputation in the streets of stabbing a white on at least one previous occasion before, on the request of the landlord.

All three of the officers gave their testimony to investigators. All three of them reported that they were uninformed of the street reputation the client had, and knocked on the door. Then, according to them, the door opened a few seconds later, with the client opening the door. They say that the client was hostile to them and repeated ordered the officers to leave the property. After a minute of argument, the client grabbed a un-armed Korentar, who according to him had left his baton and gun in his police vehicle, not expecting a struggle.

The client then supposedly dragged Korentar into his restaurant, to the shock of his fellow officers, who rushed to their cars to grab their guns. While they did this the client dragged Korentar, who was screaming in distress, behind the counter and pulled out a gun. The client then fired 3 shots at the car Johan was hiding behind, before moving for cover as Amuel took a loaded police shotgun out of the trunk of his vehicle. According to Amuel and Johan, two coloreds from the second story of the building the restaurant occupied rushed out into the street. Amuel fired a warning shot, scaring off one man but the second man tackled him. Johan then fired a shot with his pistol, grazing the assaulters leg, making him cry out in pain, allowing Amuel to shove his assailant off him, before the assailant ran out into the alleys. Amuel then picked up his shotgun, and fired a shot into the restaurant. The client then ran out of the restaurant, and Amuel, now out of shotgun shells, pulled out his baton and repeated hit the client in the chest, until the client was unconcious. A ambulance rushed the client to the hospital, where he was declared dead later that day from sustained trauma and internal bleeding.

When questioned about why Amuel assaulted the client with a baton, rather then attempt to restrain him, Ameul responded, saying "The man was reaching into his pocket for what I assume was a knife, and I felt my life was at risk. I acted in self defense."

[Elepis]

République-Unie du Congo

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Chapter 1: Heart of Darkness

United Republic of the Congo
3rd of January 1965


From the highland plateau of Katanga Province, rich in gold, diamonds, copper and cobalt, through the dense jungles of the central regions, past the mining towns of South Kivu, via the emerging industrial city of Stanlyville, through Équateur Province and along the border with the Republic of Congo and finally past Leopoldville and in to the sea, the might Congo river defined the nation. The river's vast brown and sluggish channel delivered life to subsistence farmers in the poverty stricken central regions. It's slow and wide course allowed easy transportation of goods and people across the country without the need for expensive railroads. Diamonds could be shipped to the sea and people could start new lives in the mining towns. In short, the Congo River was not just the namesake for the United Republic of the Congo, it was the Congo's heart and soul.

In the south of the country lay Katanga Province. Katanga was different from the rest of the Congo, as part of the central African copperbelt, its vast mineral wealth had first attracted the eye of the Belgian's in the late 1800's. But now, like its neighbouring regions of South Kasai and Kivu, its wealth in gold, diamonds, cobalt and coltan was attracting the eye of the modern day superpowers. In minerals and metals alone, the URC had reserves worth over 25 Trillion dollars, more than the entire economy of the USA. Eager to get at its wealth, the nations of the eastern bloc lead by the Stalinist USSR had rushed to aid the Congolese military regime in consolidating itself. In return for sending advisers, tanks and planes to aid the now First Minister Gbenye in the short two year civil war, the USSR and its allies had been allowed to set up mines in the Katanga, Kivu and Kasai regions with which to extract the precious raw materials from the ground. These good would then be sold to the USSR and her allies at lower prices and to the west at far higher prices to compensate. The economic heartland of the URC, the south east was kept under even stricter military control than was usual for the country. Ten thousand soldiers, trained and armed by the Eastern Bloc made up the Katanga Brigade of the elite Republican guard. Support by units of the ANC regular army and the national police, these troops kept order in the vast and rich area in the name of the government in Leopoldville. Also stationed in Katanga were five thousand men of the Reserve Brigade of the Republican Guard. These men, like their fellow soldiers in the Katanga Brigade were trained and equipped by the eastern bloc nations and China. However, the Reserve Brigade were not tied to control an important area like the other three Brigades were. Rather, the Reserve Brigade acted as a proto-reserve, proto-shock troop unit that could either be deployed either to crush rebellion in the country that the incompetent army couldn't deal with or if needed operate in other countries. With the heightening of the Bush War in near by Rhodesia and Mozambique, the Guard had been deployed to southern Katanga. Not as a possible invasion force, that would be pointless against the Rhodesian Army. The deployment was more to show support to Zambia and show the Rhodesians that the Congolese government saw there actions and would not stand ideally by.

Following the diesel trains north carrying their cargo up north, parallel to the Congo River, the next major city after leaving Kivu was Stanlyville in Orientale Province. The furthest navigable port on the Congo River from the sea, Stanlyville was also the country's third largest city and capital of Orientale Province. Thus despite the fact it's province had none of the mineral wealth of Katanga, it was still a very important strategic which also housed the second largest port on the Congo river. The city, and its surrounding province, were also important for two other, less obvious reasons. Orientale was the power base of the Gebnye regime, the former general-cum-military dictator was born in the province and had lived in Stanlyville until his promotion to commander of the First Army of the ANC in the mid 1950s. Loyalty to the regime was so strong in Orientale Province that the government had formed the paramilitary Simba movement there, a militia of youths loyal to the government who would provide a ready made army should they be forced out of power in Leopoldville. The loyalty of the province, as well as its dense jungles and distance from the prying eyes of Rhodesia, Mozambique and South Africa also made it the logical base of operation for the cover Panther Program.
The Panther Program was a covert operation by the joint forces of the Congolese government, the USSR and the People's Republic of China to train and equip increasing numbers of ZANU troops to fight the apartheid rule of Ian Smith and the British in Rhodesia. In the jungles of Orientale, ZANU fighters (in small numbers for the moment) would cross from Zambia into the southern URC from where they would be taken north to Orientale to the Panther Base north of Stanlyville where they would undergo arms training and tactical lessons in guerrilla warfare. Then they would be taken back south to Katanga Province where they would be given weapons, generally common equipment like the AK-47 and RPG-7 that could not easily be traced, and sent back through Zambia in to Rhodesia. Only small numbers of ZANU fighters took part in the program but they would go on to train their fellow fighters in their bases outside the URC. As well as providing a base for the training of ZANU fighters, the Congo was also their unofficial supply depot. Aid from China would come in from the east via Tanzania across Lake Tangaiyka to the Congo as well as Soviet equipment from the western port of Matadi. This aid, consisting of weapons, money and even trainers from the two country's special forces would then be covertly (and slowly) be taken to supply ZANU fighters in Zambia, Mozambique and ultimately Rhodesia. The URC was the base for these operations, with Stanlyville the linchpin.

Further up river, past the fields and towns of the middle-Congo, eventually one would come to Leopoldville, the capital and largest city of the United Republic of the Congo. Across the river from Leopoldville was it's twin city of Brazzaville, the capital of the Republic of the Congo. Leopoldville is the larger of the two cities with the combined conurbation of Leopoldville-Brazzaville having many millions of inhabitants (although significant political and infrastructure challenges prevent the two cities from functioning with any meaningful connection). If Katanaga, and its capital Elizabethville, was the economic heart of the Congo with its vast mines and near untapped wealth, Leopoldville was the political and cultural center. The city housed all the great organs of state, from the National Education Ministry, the Economics Ministry and the Foreign Ministry to the ANC General Staff and the headquarters of the feared Service de Sécurité Nationale, the secret police and intelligence service of the URC and the brutal enforcers of the will of the National Council. The capital was also home to the University of Leopoldvile, the largest of the very few institutes of higher education in the country and thus the university quarter of the city had an ever expanding avant garde feel, despite the utilitarian industrialist nature of the rest of the city. By far the largest building in Leopoldville was the National Assembly. The great marble and iron strucutre, built in the late fifties with help from Chinese architects, the building which was modeled off the Great Hall of the People in Beijing, housed both the People's Chamber made up of Socialist Development Party members elected from the regions of the URC and it housed the ruling National Council who's members were elected from the People's Chamber with it's chairman, First Minister Christopher Gbenye.

Finally, as the mighty waters of the Congo enters the sea, one would come to the port city of Matadi. However, just before this city come the Inga Dam. The first Dam at Inga, a proposed two more were to be constructed with one beginning construction, had been opened a month earlier in December 1964 after being built by engineers from the German Democratic Republic and partly financed by the Warsaw Pact countries had both provided much needed employment, but also to provide electricity to the western regions of the Congo. The vast majority of homes in the county did not have electricity, but it was hoped that projects like Inga and coal power stations to be built in the east would change that.
The city of Matadi, is the chief sea port of the URC situated 92 miles from the sea and 5 miles up river from the Inga Dams. Trade from the Congo split at Leopoldville. It either went north by rail to the Republic of Congo where it would be export form the port at Pointe-Noire or went west to the small docks at Matadi. However one trade that always came through Matadi was military aid from the USSR. To sensitive to be sent through Pointe-Noire, the ships from Gdansk and Sevastopol were generally filled with aid from the URC's socialist allies. Be that money and rail tracks to develop the Congo's infrastructure; or tanks, rocket launchers and small arms to equip the Republican Guard and ANC; or even covert, unmarked AK-47 assault rifles and SKS carbines to be sent to ZANU in Rhodesia, all of it came in sealed carriages from Matadi to Leopoldville and then put on boats on the Congo River to be distributed around the country.

The Congo was the heart of the nation, and soon the République-Unie du Congo would be the burning heart of Africa.

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Letters:

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Encryption: High
To: General Secretary of the USSR, Georgy Maximilianovich Malenkov

Greetings comrade chairman.

I have received word from your people at the embassy in Leopoldville of your plans to send fifteen hundred soldiers to aid ZANU and the Zambians against the Rhodesian Army. I assume these soldiers will take the usual route through Matadi, down the Congo to Elizabethville and over the border. If that is the case, I will begin laying on special trains and river transport immediately. If you believe it will help, I will order five hundred men from the Republican Guard Reserve Brigade and the SSN security service to fight with your own soldiers in Zambia. I have also heard you plan to equip ZANU with tanks, I would also suggest investing in weapons to counter Rhodesian air power, such as heavy machine guns or dedicated anti-aircraft guns like the ZPU or the ZU-23-2.

However I also write to you in interest of purchasing three Mil Mi-6 heavy transport helicopters in order to augment out fleet of nineteen Mil-Mi 8 transport and gunship helicopters. I would also like to order a contingent of BM-21 Grad multiple rocket launchers in order to bolster the Republican Guard and ANC's artillery corps.

First Minister of the National Council, Christopher Gbenye.

---

Encryption: High
To: Premier Zhou Enlai, People's Republic of China

Greetings comrade Premier.

The request from the Prime Minister of Rhodesia for aid from Britain has worried the members of the National Council deeply. Until now the Sino-Soviet-Congolese effort in Africa has only had to face the military of Rhodesia alone, and to some extent apartheid South Africa. However, the possibility of direct British invention in Africa against ZANU, and possibly Zambia and the URC has shown up weaknesses in the URC's military capabilities, particularly in the area of air defense.

The Rhodesian's are known to employ their air force and helicopter force to great effect combating ZANU and if Britain send more jets to the country, that would increase Congo's inadequacy in a possible air war even further. Thus I would like to take you up on your offer to purchase ten J-6 fighter, and if need J-5s, jets and a number of HQ-1 surface-to-air missiles to be based in the southern provinces of the URC. The Congolese air force will never be able to match the British Royal Air Force, but with this purchase it would improve the Congo's chance in the unlikely event the all out war should come. It would also allow the Congo to provide better support to Zambia in the more likely event of Rhodesian intervention there.

We will also agree to purchase a number of Type-58 tanks from China. It is true they might be dated in the western world, but for African countries they are still good enough to service. They will also allow more modern models to be brought to front line duty in greater numbers.

First Minister of the National Council, Christopher Gbenye.

[Krugmar]

भारत अधिराज्य
Bhārata Adhirājya
Dominion of India

Chapter 1: जिस की लाठी उस की भैंस (Whoever owns the lathi eventually owns the buffalo.)

Prime Minister Rakshasa Ahuja
Rashtrapati Bhavan, New Delhi
5th January, 1965

The Presidential Residence, Rashtrapati Bhavan, was a vast palace that once housed the British Viceroy. Though the Viceroy remained an official position, though usually referred to by the Indian Government's preferred title of Governor-General, the palace had been gifted to the Indian Government by the British. It now housed the Prime Minister, and almost the entire top executive staff. The Government had looked to two promising examples, the American White House, and the British 10 Downing Street, and had done their best emulation. The Governor-General officially had residence in the Red Fort, but due to its unwieldy size and lack of living provisions, they were housed in a small manor near the parliament houses.

Walking through the halls was the Indian Prime Minister, Rakshasa Ahuja, the leader of the Indian National Congress, a conservative party that endorsed the status-quo with Britain, and endorsed a Greater Indian Union with Pakistan and Burma. It had won a good majority in the 1962 elections, under the relatively unknown but ambitious Ahuja. His family had moved to Britain in the 1920s, and he had been raised there until his late teenage years, when they returned before the beginning of WW2. After WW2 he had returned to Britain to study law and politics, and on his return to India he became embroiled in local politics, before making the jump to national politics. He had worked his way up the INC, becoming the leader of the party in 1960, and winning the election in 1962.

"Prime Minister, the Khan of Kalat has arrived in New Delhi, should I schedule a meeting?" asked an aide, unseen by Ahuja as he made his way down the hall. English was the official language of the Government, it was a common tongue that most Indians were taught, and a useful international language.

"Yes, have him in the audience room for say... 3 o'clock, make sure that he is given a comfortable apartment while he stays here." replied Ahuja, continuing on. The Khan of Kalat was a prince from the now state of Pakistan, and had left for India after the princely states there were abolished. India had invited the exiled princes to stay in India, and recognised them and their territories. The meeting was likely to be another plea from the Khan for India to intervene, and reclaim Kalat for him.

The situation with the princely states was vastly complex in theory, but in reality quite simple. The princes were no longer as independent as they had been under the British. Though technically they were allied states serving under the sovereignty of the Indian Emperor, more commonly called the British Monarch, they were mostly completely controlled by the Indian Government. Most princes took the opportunity to become beloved figureheads, relax and tour the world, and India, or serve in the College of Princes. Others, like the Nizam of Hyderabad or the Maharaja of Mysore, took a great interest in running their states, and the Indian Government saw no reason to stop them, and actively aided in their projects provided they served a good cause.

It was the smaller states that posed nightmares for diplomats and the bureaucracy. The Indian Government resolved this by using the British method, rounding up large groups of similar princely states and forming them into unions and federations, and allowing the princes of these associations to elect the president of them from amongst their own number. Finally, while the princely states were technically nations in their own right, they did not possess the right to conduct diplomacy with other nations, all dialog was required to go through Her Imperial Majesty's Indian Government.

Nizam-ul-Mulk Osman Ali Khan
King Kothi Palace, Hyderābād State
7th January, 1965

"His Exalted Highness Rustam-i-Dauran, Arustu-i-Zaman, Wal Mamalik, Asaf Jah VII, Muzaffar-ul-Mulk-Wal-Mamalik, Nizam ul-Mulk, Nizam ud-Daula Nawab Mir Sir Osman Ali Khan Siddiqi Bayafandi Bahadur, Sipah Saula, Fateh Jung, Nizam of Hyderabad and of Berar, Knight Grand Commander of the Most Exalted Order of the Star of India, Knight Grand Cross of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire, Royal Victorian Chain, Honorable General in the Army, Faithful Ally of the Indian Government, shall now be holding court." announced the herald.

Sitting upon a well-made wooden throne, crowned with gold and precious jewels, and outfitted with a comfortable cushion, was the Nizam of Hyderabad, the venerable Osman Ali Khan. The years were finally catching up with him, and the proud Indian prince was, to those around him, beginning to tire of life. Around him, aiding him hold court, were some of his numerous children and grandchildren. They were eager to earn his favour and love, or put more correctly, his vast fortune and the title he currently held. Mukarram Jah was his current favourite for the position, and had been added to his will as the prime successor.

"میں نے اپنے گھر میں آپ سب کا خیر مقدم . براہ کرم اپنے شائستہ درخواستوں کو سننے کے لئے ایک بوڑھے آدمی کے لئے اب ، اونچی آواز میں کافی بات . (I welcome you all to my home. Please, speak now, loud enough for an old man to hear your humble requests., translated the Herald for those who did not speak Urdu)" he said. Though of high station, he preferred to present himself as a friend and guide to his people. His position was somewhat tenuous, considering that the vast majority of the population of his state were Hindu, while he was a practicing Muslim. He had won their hearts and minds with numerous projects to enrich the common people, his support for a Greater India of all faiths, and his opening up of Hyderabad state positions to non-Muslims.

"آپ غالب مہاراج ، جو میں نے رپورٹ ہے کہ میرا کاروبار ہندو انتہا پسندوں نے توڑ پھوڑ کی گئی ہے عظیم اداسی کے ساتھ ہے . انہوں نے اس طرح ایک محلے میں خیر مقدم نہیں کیا گیا تھا کہ اعلان کر دیا ، اور اب میں اپنی زندگی کے لئے خوف . (Your Exalted Highness, it is with great sadness that I report that my business has been ransacked by Hindu extremists. They declared that I was not welcome in such a neighbourhood, and now I fear for my life.)" spoke a middle aged man, of the Muslim faith. The Nizam sympathised with his position, but could not bring down justice upon the brigands as his predecessors once might have.

"آپ کو پولیس کے اس واقعہ کی اطلاع دی ہے. (Have you reported this incident to the police?)" the Nizam asked.

"نہیں، تمہاری غالب مہاراج ، مجھے ڈر ہے کہ وہ مجھ پر یقین نہیں کرے گا . (No, your Exalted Highness, I am scared that they will not believe me.)" he replied. The Nizam knew his fears, many of his Muslim subjects believed that the police, a centralised force with a majority Hindu membership, would brutalise them. Rates of brutalisation by the police were actually low, and the central government had worked hard to ensure that religion remain a non-factor in relations between the police and citizens. Still, violence between Hindus and Muslims was all too common, and fear of it was natural.

"وہ آپ پر ایمان لائیں گے . اگر ضروری ہو تو آپ کو اپنے کیس کی نگرانی کے لئے ایک مسلم افسر کے لئے پوچھ سکتے ہیں . پولیس کے پاس ، اور آپ کا مسئلہ حل ہو جائے گا . (They will believe you. If necessary you can ask for a Muslim officer to oversee your case. Go to the police, and your problem will be solved.)" the Nizam replied confidently, though his voice was beginning to strain. He would only be able to see a few more cases.

The Nizam excused himself half-an-hour in, abdicating his responsibilities to one of his sons. He intended to take a quick rest, before resuming official duties elsewhere.

[Lunas Legion]

10 Downing Street
London, England, United Kingdom
8th January, 1965

It had taken a while to assemble the Cabinet. Powell had been on a tour of India, inspecting it's armed forces on behalf of Her Majesty. Douglas-Home had gotten bogged down in Brunei by the Sultan's feasts. Lord Halisham had to chair the House of Lords, in addition to directing the Treasury. Finding a day where everyone was otherwise uncommitted had been difficult, but a few reschedulings, polite apologies and a lone flat-out rejection had eventually made it possible.

The Cabinet Room in Number 10 was rather austere. Light brown walls, hung with pictures of pictures of previous Prime Ministers on three, with windows dominating the fourth, gave it a feeling of weight and importance. The dark oak table, topped by neatly-organised piles of paper and surrounded by filled chairs reinforced the image. Butler, as usual, sat at the table's head, windows behind him, and as usual, opened the meeting.

"Our first item on the agenda is," Butler cleared his throat, "Prime Minister Smith's address to the BBC. Such an open address to the British public was...Unexpected, to say the least. Macmillan did not like Smith's policies, and neither does our Opposition, Mr Wilson. Public opinion seems to be apathetic in general, although slightly leaning in Mr Smith's favour. Mr Douglas-Home, Mr Powell, would you voice your thoughts?"

"My position remains firm, Prime Minister." Alec Douglas-Home, Foreign Minister, spoke first. "Rhodesia was to become independent as a majority-ruled state. Failure to accept that means we cannot let them remain in our Commonwealth."

"And that is where we disagree once again, Mr Douglas-Home." Enoch Powell, Minister for War, replied. "The mere existence of ZANU makes casting it out an impossibility. We have communists on our very borders in Ireland. It must be contained wherever possible, and by any means necessary, no matter how distasteful those means may be. Pragmatism must override idealism in national matters."

"I agree with the Minister for War." Lord Halisham, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, grumbled. "We may prefer majority rule, but we cannot risk ZANU assuming control. Rhodesia should be allowed to join the Commonwealth, on the proviso that once ZANU is defeated thoughly, it transitions to a mixed-representation democracy, with blacks and whites electing half of the Parliment's seats each. Does this satisfy you, Lord Douglas-Home?"

Home nodded reluctantly. Silence reigned briefly.

Butler broke the silence. "Very well, seeing as no one has any objections they wish to voice, Mr Douglas-Home, set about contacting Mr Smith's government. Mr Powell, inform the Army that they are to conduct a preliminary study on their ability to deploy forces to Rhodesia at short notice, and to report back as soon as possible."

Fellow Prime Minister,

I have heard your impassioned pleas. My predecessor, Mr Macmillan, and the head of the Opposition, were both highly critical of your nation and it's policies; however, I am not Mr Macmillan, and I am most certainly not Mr Wilson. Their opinions, while entirely valid, are too clouded by idealism to face the pragmatic truth. A non-majority democracy may be less preferable than a majority-rule democracy, but it is infinitely preferable to a communist or socialist state.

Therefore, I, along with my Cabinet and Her Majesty, have unanimously agreed that Southern Rhodesia will be allowed to remain in the Commonwealth, on the condition that once ZANU is thoroughly defeated, Southern Rhodesia is to transfer to a mixed-democratic system so that all racial groups may thrive in harmony. However, as we do not have a timeframe for that, it could take several years of conflict to do so.

Her Majesty's Prime Minister, R.A Butler

[Liecthenbourg]

The Colony of Southern Rhodesia



Sit Nomine Digna

Chapter II: The Lion Shields Her Cubs

Humphrey Gibbs,
Governor of
Southern Rhodesia

Salisbury, Southern Rhodesia
9th January

"The first word in Rhodesian is Rhodes and that's a name that everybody knows..."

"Humphrey?" He turned, smiling as he opening the door to his car. It was a 1964 Ford Mustang. A mighty bull of an automobile, it shone a light sheen in the impact of the sun. A light blue colour was its coat of paint and adorned on both sides of the vehicle were small flags of the United Kingdom and upon the hood was an ornament of a lion on rampant. He tugged on his medal that hung from his collar. A trickle of sweat descending down his face. Opposite him, standing on the lawn of their estate, arms at her hips, was his wife. Her dress was lower leg high and she wore an immense straw thatched hat.

"Yes, Dame?" he replied, standing straight, arms resting on the car door.

"What Mr. Smith did with the BBC, did you know?"

"Of course I did. I wasn't going to stop it however. Smith can have his little games and this one" he wiped his brow, his features frowning slightly. "Well, this one, we're about to see what this one did."

Dame's expression seemed sympathetic and she moves over, the sun casting a shadow on her face due to the brim of her hat. She looked up, her face slightly wrinkled and strands of her white hair which was kept in a 'pony-tail' seemed to come forth from under the hat. Scrunching her nose she rested her hand on his. "Government meeting, hun?"

"Very much so. I've fed the dogs, horses too." He sighed, intently. "And for dinner?"

She gave a little shrug. "Beef steak, potatoes, whatever you want. I'm heading to the farmer's market after Anathi is done around the house."

"Whatever you think is best, dear." He kissed her on the cheek lightly, clambering into the car before descending down the road towards the innards of Salisbury. She watched him leave, waving before turning back towards the homestead. She smiled a warm smile, collected her pounds and gave a decisive nod to the maid before taking a short trek to the local farmer's market.

Salisbury, Rhodesia
9th January

The room was wide, cubical. Smoke hovered amidst the room from the many cigarettes and cigars in the hands or upon the ashtrays. Several bottles of whiskey laid open, empty, and glasses remained at obliquely half-full or half-empty positions. The discussions were intent, relentless. Few of the original group of eighteen remained, only a couple or so sat now amidst the table and smoke. A cough erupted and Smith glanced his eyes upwards.

"The fact you actually managed to get British help is damn impressive, Smith." Gibbs quipped, flicking the letter that had been sent across the table. "Miracle worker, you are. Will you next make ZANU disappear?"

"That's the plan, Governor. More with lead than with magic, truth be told." His smile was a quick one as his hand slammed down on the letter, catching it mid-flight. "Reports from scouts suggest that the ZANU menace is moving north quicker than we anticipated, 'steads and farms have been put on a high alert. Every policeman in the area has his eyes ready for suspicious activity."

The silence hung in the air. "And do you think that will be enough?"

"No."

"No, Smith?"

"No, it wont be enough. ZANU is filled with fanatical, reactionary hooligans (Trademark of Senka ) and Stalinites. Communists. They'd sooner see this country burn, with every black man from Kariba to Beltbridge. Farms and 'steads will be burned, people will die - and we and ZANU will continue to trudge along."

"And British help?"

Smith reclined, sighing heavily. "Any help Britain arrives will be most welcome; it may break the thawing ice with several states - hopefully the United States and the European Federation. Continuing to open the trade lanes through Mozambique; we can fight as hard as any guerrilla. Kariba will turn into our Verdun, Salisbury our Paris, and the aptly and humorously named 'George' will serve as the taxi-cabs to our La Marne. They may have the nationalism, but so do we. Rhodesians will bleed for their country, they'll bleed for the memory of heroes before them, of Officer Allan Wilson and of the heroes at the Siege of the Elands River. We Rhodesians are a hardy bunch, Mr. Governor. Do not believe that our clutches on this country will go without a fight."

"And what of majority rule?"

"My secretary is already penning a response, informing Mr. Butler such an agreement is amiable and reasonable with me. But only until ZANU is grounded into the dirt with my dress shoes caked in mud."

Humphrey Gibbs swirled the whiskey in its cup before downing it decisively. "You're a hard man, Mr. Smith."

Smith mimicked the motion, before pointing across the table with his right index finger. It was almost an accusing point. "Any man would be a hard men when pressed into defending his home and his way of life, Mr. Gibbs. There is a little of a Boer in every Rhodesian heart, don't you know?"

The uncomfortable smile that sprawled across Gibbs face did not leave much to be desired.

[Holy Lykos]

Daoine hÉireann Aontas
Irish People's Union
Éireann

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Chapter 1: Socrú Réalta, Ghrian Éirí Amach (Setting Star, Rising Sun)

Cumann Lucht an Taoiseach
baile átha Cliath, Éireann
Tríú Eanáir Naoi Déag-Seasca-Cúig
Chamber of the Chief
Dublin, Ireland
Third of January Nineteen-Sixty-Five

Éireann was arguably more stable than it ever had been under British rule, the southern portion of the island largely united in ideology and aim for the first time since the original War for Independence against Great Britain, now almost fifty years distant from the modern Ireland. A decade of instability leading to two civil wars and an era of insurrection against the new state that would end up being called the Troubles. While largely stamped out in the south, the IRA had mostly moved north of the Border with Britain. It continued trying to agitate and push for Union with the south, or an independent 'democratic' North. The IRA had in fact split into two factions over the course of the last civil war. The nationalist section had tried to shed its socialist allies in its fight against the democratically elected Communist/Socialist coalition government (under the supervision of the Irish Communist Party, of course), which lead to the Northern IRA splitting into the Free IRA and Worker's IRA. The Irish government official stance on this was that they supported neither. The outside world would have no proof either way of course, given the State-controlled media of the new Ireland. In the south at least, the IRA remnants continued their occasional strikes against the State, but the largest portions of them were either imprisoned or exiled from the nation for treason. Few had been executed, as martyrs would only help their cause.

Larkin had run the nation since its recreation and inception, the former Labour leader and current advocate of his new brand of Communism(largely a call back to the ideals rather than the Soviet style Stalinist communism), ruling virtually for life from his popularity. Ireland had made sure to preserve its democratic institutions after all. It'd do no one any good to dash the ideals of their revolution against the rocks in a bid for power! But his health was rapidly declining, and it was obvious to all those in the government and the public that Larkin likely wouldn't last the year.

In private, to family and friends along with his trusted second O'Riordan, Larkin disclosed what was leading to such a massive decline in health. He had cancer in his stomach from some unknown cause. His doctor said he could go at any time, and it'd recently spread to a few other places in his body. The Taoiseach was in immense pain, leading to his retreat from public life and leaving affairs of state in O'Riordan's hands. He'd also finally come to a decision. Since he was no longer in a state fit to properly run the nation, it was about time to retire from the duty.

Needless to say, the Tánaiste was not taking this news well.


"Ag na déithe, Jim!" O'Riordan exclaimed, pacing Larkin's study back and forth. Soon to be her study, actually, when she thought about it. "We need you in charge, Sir, you're the whole God damned reason we managed to get this far! If you retire we'll never be able to continue how we want. I'm not half the leader you are, for one!"

Larkin coughed, face contorting into a mask of pain for a moment before returning to the normal fiery passion that typified the Irish Taoiseach. "Calm it, lass. You don't rule Ireland alone! Hell, I couldn't have dealt with these last few years without you. Its about time for fresh blood to guide the nation. i'm getting old, you probably scarcely remember a non-socialist Ireland."

"Aye, that's true, sir." O'Riordan responded with a sigh, her hand coming up to her face as she rested it in her hand. Jim had always been unorthodox, but this was a bit crazy. "But, doesn't the constitution say the people elect the Taoiseach?"

"Indeed." He said slowly, his breaths deep as he nodded. "But this is a special case. We have no precedent for a leader abdicating their power while still alive. I should be able to nominate a successor for approval by the Oireachtas."

"I'm not going to be able to convince you otherwise, aren't I?"

"Not on your life, lass. Not on your life. Now, let me rest. And finish up those letters to Ghréig and Rúis Sóivéadach. I want those sent before the end of the day, Caitlin!"

---

Summary

• Jim Larkin's declining health has lead him to announce his abdication of the role of Taoiseach, giving up power to his Tanaiste, Cailtin O'Riordan. This is being debated in the Oireachtas, but trust in Larkin's decisions are high so the vote is likely to turn in favor of this decision.
• Diplomatic initiatives are being sent to Greece and The Soviet Union, with the reason of improving ties between Socialist nations, and a proposal to revive the lapsed Communist International to give a positive face for Communism in the west again.
• The Irish government has yet to announce an official policy on the conflicts in Rhodesia and Vietnam, the uncertainty in their own nation too high to make any official external policy decisions for now.

---

Office of the Taoiseach of the Irish People's Union

---

To: General Secretary of the USSR, Georgy Maximilianovich Malenkov,

Do bheatha chugat, comrádaí,
Приветствую вам, товарищ,
(Hail to you, Comrade,)

While our nations have not always been on the best of terms, We of the Irish People's republic wish to rectify this. Communism is an international movement, not limited by borders and petty squabbles between nations. This is something we seem to have forgotten in the chaos of the Second World War. We Irish remember a time when the communists parties and nations of the world would come together to work towards common goal, in the old alliances of the Communist International, the Comintern.

Our ultimate goals are to bring the whole world to agree with our ideology, is it not? What better way than a pan-communist alliance in the interest of both showing our best face and our strength to the West and its Imperialist masters? Reviving the Comintern in the form of the Forth Comintern would show a drive to peacefully resolve conflict.

It would only be fitting for the most powerful communist nation, the USSR, should be the one to spearhead this effort. It would lend legitimacy to the effort that Ireland alone could not muster, and convince the nations you are already allied with to participate. All communists should be more than happy to work with the international communist community, our philosophy is one of internationalism and disregard of anything that may divide us aside from the conflict against the Bourgeoisie and Nobility.

Along with this, even should you not wish to recreate the international focus Pre-war communism held, We still wish to increase trade and cooperation between our two nations. But such matters are something to be hammered out by our diplomats in person.

We hope you will consider this proposal, dearly.

-Caitlin O'Riordan, Tánaiste and soon to be Taoiseach of the Irish People's Union, writing on behalf of Taoiseach James Larkin.

Office of the Taoiseach of the Irish People's Union

---

To: General Markos Vafiadis of the Hellenic People's Republic,

Do bheatha chugat comrádaí,
Χαίρε σε σένα, σύντροφε,
(Hail to you, Comrade,)

Greece and Ireland, while distant, are united in our adherence to socialism and belief that the rights of the worker and people come before those of any nationstate. We wish to build on these ties to a proper relationship between equals on the world stage. Ireland's resources are woefully undeveloped and can't be used to their fullest potential, and Greece is in a similar state. Through cooperation we should be able to better exploit these resources and tap into them for the good of the people of both our nations, and through trade we could meet the needs we otherwise would be unable to.

Along with this, We have invited Russia to help us reform the old Comintern, or an alliance of similar Caliber. With your position and the wrongfully held territory of Turkey, land that should have been made Greek long ago(a plight we ourselves experience), it woul make sense to desire likeminded allies.

We may not be the strongest, but Irishmen fight to the last and any aid we would be requested of we shall more than happy to send at a moment's notice, whether it be men, materials, or food your armies to protect against those who would halt the revolution. Internationalism is one of the central tenants of communism, a comrade who cares naught about her fellow man is no true communist and socialist but instead Bourgeoisie supporters and appeasers!

We eagerly await a reply fellow workers,

-Caitlin O'Riordan, Tánaiste and soon to be Taoiseach of the Irish People's Union, writing on behalf of Taoiseach James Larkin.

[The New Greek Republic]

The Democratic People's Republic of Korea

---

---

---

January 6th, 1965

Pyongyang Economic Session One

---

Day Six

Five days of evaluation just for everyome to end up with the consensus that the economy needed reforms and needed them fast. Kim wondered who determined the length of these meetings, he certainly didn't but it would be okay, time passed quickly enough. After seeing the Soviet Mr. Koskov off in the early hours of the day, Kim headed straight to the meeting. The sixth day of the most boring conference to ever take place, at least, that's Kim's thought. He was looking forward more to the Session Two that would take place immediately after this one. He was the first one to the meeting, and as more showed up, the more he feigned a smile, the same he gave the people during his speeches, the same smile that allowed him to slither his way into authority. Today would be boring, as would the next five days of discussing the topic, but Kim went on. "Gentlemen, please be seated. Today is the sixth day of the Pyongyang Economic Session One. After discussing and evaluating our economy, it's time to move on to a new topic that we will discuss for the next few days; the Democratic People's Republic of Korea's economic progress over the last few years. Since the end of World War Two, our country has seen a decent amount of growth over the time period. We all know this, but of course, this decent amount isnt suitable. I was hopeful that the country would be in the midst of flourishing at about this time, but alas, that is not the case. Our comrades in the Soviet Union and in the People's Republic have done everything possible to help us get to the brink of flourishing, so we have nobody to blame but ourselves." He said.

Someone started talking but Kim had his thoughts full. He was thinking of what could be done to improve the stability of the nation, the economy, and the potential and it all came down to one thing, trade and industrialization. Trade would be very hard to achieve in the current model, not to mention the country was constitutionally socialist which only made it that much more difficult to trade with outside entities. Unless, an economic model change came about, and a deal was made involving the Koreans that would open the gates to the much sought-after trade and industrialization. What kind of deal could do that that though? What would be a good enough agreement that would do that? Only one thing came to mind. An official peace treaty to the Korean War. If a peace treaty could be brokered between the Korea's in exchange for trade from the United States, who would be present at the meeting, maybe that could begin the process of opening the market in North Korea.

Kim knew it wouldn't be easy, but it was a necessity for the survival of his great country. For the survival of his people and their livelihood, this was the goal. He needed trade to be opened with the U.S, and the only way that seemed possible was for peace on Korea to be formally attained by the two states. Kim feigned more grins for the people talking. But he had no idea what had been said. His presence was more of a support to the attendees, this was a totally unnecessary meeting, but he felt his presence would boost the confidence of the others in the room. They probably knew he wasn't listening though, but he didn't care, he had bigger and better ideas going on inside his head, ideas of a future, a Korean future.

[Zostra]

Republic of Iran

Chapter One: The Lion and the Sun

---

Majilis (Parliament), Tehran
January 7th, 1965

---

"You heretics are an affront to god! How can you propose that which flies in the face of his laws?" The speaker was Amir Bokra, leader of the Islamic Union Party backed by a now exiled Ruhollah Khomeini. "This bill, if enacted, will surely lead to moral degradation among our people. Perhaps our honourable Prime Minister has spent too long in the company of decadent Europeans, but I have not forgotten our faith. I urge all my brothers to vote against this wretched proposal and resist it most fiercely, thank you." At once all IUP members rose to their feet and began clapping before being countered by jeers from the governing National Front.

"The Prime Minister, representative of Tehran South, will now speak"

"Thank you mister speaker. Ever since mister Bokra's party formed some eight years ago, he has decried so called 'moral corruption' throughout the nation. Coincidentally every time his party loses seats these cries grow louder. Perhaps he considers himself alone in knowing what ordinary Iranians ought to believe is moral and is within god's will. However, I know that our people are decent, upright citizens who live their lives trying to treat each other, and god, with respect. It is not to us to tell them how best to do this. This is why I have proposed the Religion and Governance Bill, to give everyone freedom to worship in their own way. Iranians must not submit themselves to those on Earth who claim the backing of god when in reality all they wish is to advance their own political agendas. For our people, for our nation, and for our religion we must enact this law. Thank you and may Iran prosper!"

"The vote on Bill CL-156, Religion and Governance, will now commence.
With 216 votes for and 104 votes against, the Bill is passed. Next item is Bill CL-171, Steel Investment and..."

Iran's march towards secularism took another step forward. State primary and secondary schools would be secularized, offering religious education only in the academic sense. Serving members of the clergy would have to resign their posts to be eligible to run for office. A Bureau for the Protection of the Constitution would have within its powers the ability to investigate extremist religious orders and shut them down if they posed a threat to public safety and the stability of government.

---

Diplomacy

Republic of Iran Ministry of Foreign Affairs

Greetings to our friends in the Soviet Union,

Ever since your people came to our aid nearly ten years ago, we have forged a close bond. It is our hope this bond will remain strong as my nation faces numerous threats. To our East is the British Imperialist backed Pakistan, to our West the tyrannically anti-popular state of Turkey. Although Iran's military is dedicated and well trained, it lacks modern equipment to counter these dangers effectively. Therefore my government requests the following equipment, to be purchased either monetarily or through petroleum exports.

- 120 x T-62 Main Battle Tanks
- 3 Batteries x S-75 Dvina Surface to Air Missiles

With Respect,

Namvar Gardin, Minister of Foreign Affairs

Republic of Iran Ministry of Foreign Affairs

Salutations to the Congolese People,

Iranians everywhere have been in awe at the progress of your nation since it threw of he shackles of Western oppression. Your citizens should take great pride in their achievements since their well earned independence. Our country too knows the pain of imperialism and scarcely survived it with our sovereignty intact. As we are united in opposition to colonialism of any kind, perhaps we can assist each other? It has come to the attention of this government that evidence of significant oil and natural gas deposits have been found in the Congo. Should these be developed it would certainly assist in the economic independence of your republic. Therefore, through the Iran State Petroleum Company, we can offer the following.

1. Technicians of the ISPC shall, with all necessary equipment, seek to ascertain the location of commercially viable oil and gas fields in the United Republic of the Congo.
2. Should such fields be discovered, the ISPC shall have the exclusive right to develop said fields.
3. 95% of any annual profits from oil or natural gas extraction shall be paid to the government of the United Republic of the Congo.
4. The remaining 5% shall be retained by the ISPC for a period not exceeding five years.
5. The cost of surveying and developing any oil or gas fields shall be paid through the export of gold and copper by United Republic of the Congo to the Iran Central Development Fund.

Cordially,

Namvar Gardin, Minister of Foreign Affairs

---

Bandar Abbas, Iran
January 9th, 1965

---

A group of men clad in tailored European suits and hardhats strolled through the towers of steel in Bandar Abbas port. Noise from cranes, ships, workmen, and dozens of forklifts created a near deafening cacophony. "These containers are the newest craze in America and Europe, they allow goods to be safely loaded and offloaded in only a few hours. Here, Governor, is where the great mass of wares produced in our petrochemical plants flow out towards markets all over the world. Farther down the coast," the man gestured towards an area humming with construction equipment, "is where products will flow in at a much faster rate than with our old facilities." The governor, tall and well dressed, nodded approvingly. "Most impressive, I can see our funds have been put to good use," he added, smiling. "Indeed they have. Come, here are some men who have jobs thanks to this project."

A dozen or so workers in overalls covered in grease were waiting beside two port officials. A photographer took pictures as the governor smiled, shook their hands, and asked their names. He came to a man midway through the line and asked "what is your name brother?" The worker mumbled something incoherently as he looked down. "I'm sorry, I couldn't quite hear." Now he looked up, directly into the governor's eyes, with a face contorted in rage. "Allāhu akbar!" he shouted as the governor recoiled in horror and tried to pull away. The worker reached into his pocket and pulled out a small revolver; firing three shots in quick succession. He continued to scream as he was tackled by bodyguards, pummeled by pistol handles and feet, and dragged away. The governor lay in a pool of blood as gasped his last breath.

[Senkaku]

中华人民共和国



"A revolution is not a dinner party, or writing an essay, or painting a picture, or doing embroidery; it cannot be so refined, so leisurely and gentle, so temperate, kind, courteous, restrained and magnanimous. A revolution is an insurrection, an act of violence by which one class overthrows another." - Mao Zedong

Chapter Two: Cry Havoc

---

People's Liberation Army Nyingchi Prefectural HQ
Linzhen
Bayi District
Nyingchi Prefecture
Xizang Autonomous Region

---

"Comrade Colonel Han." The rapping on the door was louder now, rousing Chao from his sleep and making him sit up.
"Come in," he said groggily.
His breathless aide, Lieutenant Zhang Aiguo, burst in the door, turning on the lamp. "Sir, we've received an emergency dispatch from Mêdog County. There's been an incident near Beibengxiang."
Chao's sleep-addled brain took a moment to run through the list of border towns he'd come to memorize from the maps and his visits to the border, and he blinked suddenly as he realized what Aiguo was saying. "An incident? What sort of incident? Throw me some pants," he said, pointing at the simple cabinet on the other side of the room. Aiguo bent over and pulled a pair of green PLA-issued pants out, tossing them to Chao, who swung his legs over the side of the bed and whipped them on. "The dispatch says that several men came under Indian sniper fire, while they were bringing laundry down to the river near the border. One man killed, one injured."
"More likely they just had some dumbfuck accident and are blaming it on some imaginary sniper," Chao snorted. "Anything else?"
"They responded with a pair of mortar bombs, directed towards known Indian positions near Geling."
Fuck. "And now what's happening?"
"Apparently there's an ongoing firefight, at this point, with snipers and mortars on both sides trading fire. They've killed several Indians on our side of the Line of Actual Control, and the captain in charge of Beibengxiang's sector says that it looks like the Indians tried to flank a mortar position by crossing the Line."
"Shit." Hopefully we can put this down quickly before Beijing finds out and either executes me or sends a few group armies to back us up. "And we think this is limited to Geling? Have the Indians brought reinforcements? How long has this been going on?"
"Captain Liang says the incident was early last evening, but it took a few hours to reach him. So we can presume at least four hours."
"How many Z-6s and Z-4s are at the airstrip right now, not performing tasks?"
"Three Z-6s, four Z-4s."
"Telephone whoever's on watch at the airstrip barracks and tell them to wake all their pilots up. I'll telephone Captain Shen and tell him to wake the men and split off enough to cram into all the choppers."
"What are you planning, sir?"
"I'm going to go to Beibengxiang," Chao said, walking across the room and pulling out a packet of cigarettes from a drawer, "and put a stop to this fuckery."

---

Somewhere in the Indian Ocean
MV Lucky Starfish 17

---

The Lucky Starfish 17 was a fairly nondescript vessel- a mid-sized freighter, with her registration showing her out of Kaohsiung- the second city of the KMT's corrupt exile republic that now lived out the dwindling days of borrowed time the capitalist West had bought it on the steamy subtropical isle of Taiwan. As she plowed through the waves of the squall, her captain, Zhou Bingwen, reflected on how he had come to be where he was- sitting alone on the bridge of an aging little freighter, thousands of miles from home, doing his duty for his country as a colonel in the Second Department of the Joint Staff Headquarters. It was not entirely unusual for military intelligence officers like himself to receive such postings, but still, Bingwen felt, to be in such a circumstance deserved reflection. Few people have an experience like this.
In the hold of the ship he was effectively commanding, with the help of a few PLAN officers, were dozens of S-75 surface to air missiles. The cargo wasn't on his mind in any particular way- the missiles were secure from the storm outside and carefully fastened down- but their destination was.

Zambia. A land Bingwen had only read about, seen a few grainy photos of, was where he would spend the next six months. First he would spend some time in Katanga helping to oversee the construction of missile sites, and then he would cross into Zambia, helping to oversee the training of ZANU fighters and advising the organization's commanders. In other ships that were now meandering from China all around the world's oceans towards the Congo were other weapons, too- from simple Type 56 rifles to Type 58 tanks and J-6 fighter jets. The same revolutionary bonds that held Chinese together in unbreakable brotherhood would now stretch across oceans in the same fashion, strengthening the revolution where its fires were most ardent and the proletariat most yearning to be freed.
Strangely, despite his slight seasickness and boredom, Bingwen found himself feeling somewhat inspired.

---

Fuhai County Laogai No. 2
Fuhai County
Altay Prefecture
Xinjiang Autonomous Region

---

The steppe and the mountains were beautiful, in a brutal manner. They had none of the soft edges of the rolling landscapes of Inner China, the flat terrain of Jiangsu that Ren Linfen was so used to from her old life. The mountains here were a few shades darker blue than the sky, their sharp, snowcapped peaks as jagged as sword edges, but shimmering in such a way as to be almost unintelligible from the small white clouds that dotted the piercingly blue sky. The air here was pure, too, all the soot of the factories and power plants wiped away by a lack of civilization and the chilly, bone-dry wind that swept in off of the vast expanses of Siberia that lay to the north of them.
As she knelt, staring at the mountains in the distance, Linfen wondered how many in Siberia were facing the same fate as her, at this very moment, and how many else in China. Most likely hundreds. Perhaps thousands. The wiry steppe grass no longer was uncomfortable against her knees, as it had been when she had first been sent here from Nanjing. On the rare opportunities she'd had a mirror, or looked at herself in the reflection of the little lakes they sometimes passed- themselves like shards of some enormous cosmic mirror in their clearness- she'd seen how the steppe had coarsened her features. Three years of imprisonment had left her with thick calluses, a nose crooked from where it had twice been broken from beatings, and joints that ached even more unceasingly than they once had in Nanjing, when she had been a comfortable Party bureaucrat- prominent, even.
But then the Great Helmsman of the Nation had fallen, and with him fell Linfen's fortunes. The communes she had invested so much work in building were broken up by the capitalist roaders, loyalists to the Chairman like herself purged and sent to far-flung camps like this one. Though in places like this, we are a minority. Mostly, in such remote locations, it was dangerous dissidents- writers and poets, Tibetans, and advocates of reform, not simply disgraced Party officials caught on the wrong side of politics like herself.

But all of us meet the same grave, she reflected, looking down into the shallow pit in front of her. She no longer feared it the way she had when she'd first come here. As blood dripped from her rebroken nose, it almost seemed laughable she'd once feared this place. It is beautiful, in its own way. But now I will leave it. She heard a click from behind her, the rustle of fabric as someone raised their arm.

An overwhelming roar, coming from behind, was accompanied by a great flash, a sense of falling forwards- and then nothingness.

---

POST SUMMARY:

-Thus far unbeknownst to Beijing, a low-level border skirmish has broken out for unclear reasons near the Line of Actual Control in Arunachal Pradesh, along the border with Mêdog County in China.
-Chinese weapons are being shipped to the Congo, along with military personnel (including military intelligence from the Second Department) and officers of the Ministry of State Security, to help train and equip the Congolese military and ZANU.
-Laogai camps aren't very nice places.

[Vredlandia]

DEUTSCHE DEMOKRATISCHE REPUBLIK

---

CHAPTER 1: A NEW YEAR, A SOCIALIST YEAR

Waldsiedlung, Bernau/Wandlitz
30km off of the city of Berlin
1st of January 1965

"Quiet, isn't it?", Ulbricht asked. "Yes", his wife Lottle said. She drank a little wine yesterday, but unlike most in Wandlitz, Lotte and her husband didn't drink or smoke much and their New Year's Eve was rather short. And now they were awake again, in a new year, at 6AM, still following Ulbricht's daily routine in this new year. "I will be back later", Ulbricht said, but both knew that there was no reason to say that. His wife knew his routine. The most powerful man in the GDR finished his bread with quark and marmelade. "Be safe", his wife answered, and he left through the door.

Walter Ulbricht's voice invited comedians all over the world to joke about him. He had as much charisma as a rock. And most of those who were close to him knew that in fair elections, he would have never won an office. Ulbricht knew that. But he was very effective when it came to sensing changes in the Soviet Union and knew how he could benefit from the socialist system installed by Stalin. Ulbricht was also one of the last socialists who actually met Lenin; that was something he was proud to remind others of. As he walked around the corner, he noticed some of the staff going through Honecker's trash. Ulbricht chuckled. On Honecker's request, they always exchanged tags on bottles, so nobody thought he wouldn't be able to drink. A foolish request, but there was worse, as Ulbricht reminded himself.

Wandlitz in general was very privileged. More than 600 staffers cared for the socialist elite of the GDR all day and night, while they lived in this hidden village that was not found on any maps, guarded by an elite regiment of the Ministry of State Security. It was a security measure at the start, but since then Ulbricht and his colleagues came to enjoy the other aspects of life here quite a bit. They had swimming pools, shooting ranges, tennis courts, a club house and a store where they would get you anything you want.

Slowly Ulbricht approached the sports field. Mielke, the Minister of State Security, already awaited him. They greeted eachother and did some athletics before Mielke began to report. "Six - likely intoxicated - border guards escaped. Another one was shot. Another bunch of civilians escaped and we are looking into the events to find out who will be made responsible. There is discontent with a lack of alcohol on New Year's Eve - after most already stored it for Christmas, reserves were rather low. But with the New Year just starting, we would not say the SED or the Council of Ministers is in danger. The system still stands", the Minister reported while Ulbricht continued his routine.

"And it will stand for a century and more", Ulbricht commented shortly. "We have already outlived the fascists and the false democrats of Weimar. We will also outlive the Western imperialists.

Berlin, GDR
January 7

"We did better than last year, and we are still going into the right direction. Our economic growth is decreasing, but I have asked our fine comrade to highlight the biggest areas of growth in his report instead. The Minister of State Security told me they will be increasing their numbers and I heard similar things from our army. Nevertheless, our security is not adequate. The command in Rostock tells us that the Federation moves ever more soldiers to the borders. I would hope that they just want us to fear them, but I will not risk to look weak Do you have any comments or something to report on? Let me be clear when I say this: This is a new year, but it will be our year. A socialist year."

The whole room was rather silent. Then Honecker raised his voice. "The economy should be more of a focus now, I believe. Let us talk to the Russians and see if we can engage with the Federation and other Westerners through diplomatic channels, but we need our resources elsewhere. Our citizens want new flats, lower prices, more income, higher pensions, better healthcare. There is a lot to do, and this will keep us alive on the long run", Ulbricht's 'Crown Prince' commented. Ulbricht nodded, but he didn't reply.

Another Minister raised his voice. "Advertisement could boost our economy."

Now Ulbricht looked around again, shook his head and muttered something. "Comrade, we satisfy needs. We don't create needs. Let us have a low demand for as long as we can. Erich is right: We need our resources." And with that, Ulbricht turned his papers around and looked at the Foreign Affairs bit. His colleagues already did the same, but he stopped once more and looked at Honecker and then the others. "Maybe try to find out how we could innovate our agricultural system, especially when it comes to meat and poultry."

---

---

At last he got to Foreign Affairs after all. The GDR was doing okay - relations with fellow socialists were strong either way, although China could still be improved. Congo was a nation that seemed to be very grateful for German support and maybe they could expand on that to get some luxuries out of it. With the West and neutrals, however, there was still a lot of room for improvement. The GDR needed to be recognized. Yet, with more Soviet troops hopefully coming to reinforce the border soon, relations with the West would only be more tense in the future.

Office of the Chairman of the State Council

---

To: General Secretary of the USSR, Georgy Maximilianovich Malenkov,

Brotherly and solidary greetings, Comrade Malenkov,

Let me extend my belated and most sincere wishes for a successful new year to you. The USSR is still an unfought example of socialist achievements; the GDR will remain its loyal friend and ally. We are one of the 10 strongest economies worldwide. When it comes to education, housing, employment and equality of the masses, I do not doubt that we are ahead of the Westners who claim to be superior or advanced. They are weak, trying to grasp to their power by benefiting some chosen individuals. Our nations are strong because we are solidary to the in- and outside. But our enemies aim to disrupt this friendship.

The European Federation, one of the worst outgrowths of imperialism and capitalism, seems to move more and more troops to our border. Our border is well defended and strongly fortified, but we have reason to doubt that we could hold out against them for long enough to sufficiently fight back. Therefore I would like to ask whether the USSR intends to send more troops to our lands? We can accomodate them, our workers are already constructing new rocket hideouts. This gesture would be very appreciated.

In hope of further and eternally strong cooperation,

- Walter Ulbricht, General Secretary of the SED

[Liecthenbourg]

The Colony of Southern Rhodesia



Sit Nomine Digna

Chapter III: A Rumble in the Bush

Lieutenant General,
George Peter Walls

Kariba Dam, Zambezi River
21st of January
The Kariba Dam was an engineering masterpiece. The Impresit Company from Italy had done a fantastic job; yet she was still not finished. The spark of the Bush War had ground construction to a halt, especially once an armoured division led by George Peter Walls had driven into the dam, consolidated it for the control of Southern Rhodesia and sent the workers away for an 'unspecified amount of time'. The move was conducted in what Walls had call 'the rush for the Zambezi' in which, in tandem, the Victoria Falls bridge had also been rapidly taken into the hands of the Rhodesian Military. They had arrived on rails, set up defences and now regularly halted or sent away trains - only allowing a select few either way. The way Walls had seen it, with the control of the dam, now Southern Rhodesia held parts of Zambia "by the balls" - if Rhodesia so wished to do so, electricity to what used to be Northern Rhodesia could be cut off; rendering aspects of the southern portions of the country without power.

Once the dam had been firmly in the hands on the forces of Southern Rhodesia; a period of 'defence building' had begun. Minor encampments sat on both sides of the dam. A flurry of machine gun nests, sniper towers, tank traps - who knew what socialist governments would be funding ZANU - artillery positions and even lays of mines. The dam, in addition to the 1,000 or so active soldiery defending it, was supplemented by 13 Matilda MK IIs, which had been old hand-me-downs from the British Government purchased during the war in addition to three Churchill MK VIIs, one of which was a Churchill Crocodile. Even the famous Rhodesian Armoured Car Regiment, nicknamed The Black Devils, were stationed at the dam currently. They had led the forefront of Walls' rush, so much so, he had been in one of those mighty machines of war. Walls had ordered for three helicopter pads to be constructed as well and now several helicopters found themselves patrolling along the Zambezi, venturing north into the Zambia bush as well, in search for would be attackers.

A knock came at the metallic door for the office Walls had re-purposed for his use as commander at the dam. With a flurry of his papers, a sip of his tea and a reclining in his chair he knocked in his ring twice on his wooden desk, accompanying the gesture with a decisive "Come in!".

"Lieutenant General." the voice called as the door swung open. The man saluted, the wind ruffling his khaki war-shorts. "Reports are in of a successful ZANU assault on one of the tobacco farms near Mount Darwin."

Walls grimaced and pressed his knuckles into his desk, gritting his teeth. "And the BSAP?"

"Chasing them down, sir. Three of the insurgents were killed in the attack."

Walls tented his fingers and sat back down in his chair. "Anything else?"

"Reports from Livingstone indicate... well, BSAP is convinced something is going to happen there."

"The bridge?"

"It could be, sir."

Walls once again let his expression go darker. "And Colonel Fraser, is he aware?"

Fraser was a hard-hearted monster of a man. His plans for fighting ZANU involved breaking the populace, crunching their will to fight on by slowly intensifying the grip from his hands. He was however a tactically aware man one whom was not entrenched in the old ways of war. He understood there was an unconventional threat and would thus respond in kind. It was for that reason the Colonel had been thrown into Livingstone, in command of the Victoria Bridge, and little more.

"He is aware. He's instructed the BSAP to 'do what it does best.'"

"We don't need them to beat up Xhosa, just to find out what's going on."

"We understand that, Lieutenant-General." With a salute the officer turned, leaving the General to himself as he stared out towards the dam from one of his windows and sipped on his tea. He glanced over to a document left behind by the officer and let his eyes. "Fourteen wounded, three dead. 13 white, four blacks. ZANU doesn't discriminate it seems. £3,000 worth of damage to tobacco plantations, about £250 for property. One officer wounded, three insurgents dead. Attacked in the early hours of the morning, it seems. A lightning fast raid, made of with some livestock as well. Must be getting hungry, at least this section. BSAP is chasing them towards Sinoia." He pursed his lips in thought before he ruffled his brow. "Perhaps a distraction, or just an unorganised rabble?"

[Zostra]

Monday, January 11th, 1965

Voice of Persia

Riots in Tehran; Prime Minister Declares State of Civil Emergency

Prime Minister Mohammad Soheili declared a state of civil emergency today in response to what he calls "anti-constitutional agitation." This comes after mass demonstrations turned violent in Tehran and several other major cities following the killing of Governor Hirsa Noria of Hormozgan Province. Governor Noria was killed on Saturday during an official tour of Bandar Abbas port by a man claiming Islamist ties. Noria was a member of the National Front and a vocal supporter of secularism, speaking out in favour of the recently passed Religion and Governance law. This, alongside his modernizing administration of Hormozgan Province, made him a symbol of progressive politics, inspiring both admiration and loathing. Following news of Noria's death, spontaneous marches of mourners began in Bandar Abbas which soon spread to numerous cities and towns. Counter-demonstrations by supporters of the Islamic Union Party quickly led to bloodshed as police struggled to separate the two groups. At least twenty-nine protesters on both sides have been killed thus far with an unknown number of injuries. Prime Minister Soheili called for calm alongside IUP leader Amir Bokra, but to no avail.

Following the deaths of three Tehran police officers late Sunday night, an emergency meeting of cabinet declared a state of civil emergency. This, among other measures, gives police powers of preemptive arrest without warrant and allows military forces to assist civil authorities. Several battalions of troops have already been deployed throughout Tehran with parliament and the Presidential and Prime Ministerial residences being placed under guard. Additionally, some four-hundred arrests are reported to have been made in the last 24 hours alone. Prime Minister Soheili spoke to reporters stating that "this is merely a measure to ensure public safety. Certain members of society have taken it upon themselves to subvert the laws of this country as well as engage in general hooliganism. One of this government's sacred duties is to protect the people of Iran so we have simply taken steps towards ensuring this. Parliament, the courts, and civil administration will all continue as normal without significant interruption." Despite such assurances, many are concerned that this opens the way for a general suspension of liberties. Notable civil rights advocate Professor Ahmed Mansur was quoted as saying that Iranians should be "extremely worried" about recent events.

[The New Greek Republic]

The Democratic People's Republic of Korea

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January 15th, 1965

Pyongyang Economic Session One

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Day Fifteen

Kim was tired, tired of meeting about the same thing over and over. He was glad it was the final day of this meeting, then the real meeting would start in just a few days from now. For the last five days, Kim and his comrades have spoke about the nation's economic potential. All of them stating the country had great potential as a state, and could become a leading power if appropriately handled, but Kim knew it'd be more difficult than that. Kim knew that taking this small, revolutionary nation and making it a strong power would take years of hard work and dedication from not just the leadership, but the people too. If the people didn't want to live here, then the country would undoubtedly face a certain demise.

Kim refused to see this happen, it was his mission to bring the Democratic People's Republic of Korea to the forefront of world politics, anything short of that goal would mean his failure as a leader to his state. Kim had already squandered 20 years almost, and he knew that another second couldn't be wasted if he was to make the country fulfill it's potential. Kim read the closing statement of the meeting, allowed for attendees to make their final statements, and dismissed the meeting. Kim sat in the room a little longer as he thought to himself, the world would soon be wary of Korea.