RED DAWN: The Next World War, An Alt History of WW2 (IC)

by **The Traansval** » Sun Jul 02, 2017 11:08 am

Munich
Bavaria
Republic of Germany

August 20th, 1938

Óró, sé do bheatha bhaile

óró, sé do bheatha bhaile

óró, sé do bheatha bhaile

anois ar theacht an tsamhraidh.

The cry of thousands of Irish voiced echo'd over the German country, as a column of Irish soldiers made their way down the dirt center of the German Autobahn. They sung a song, a song of their people from long ago, a song that they had sung when they fought for their independence and they sung once more as they marched to fight for their Freedom.

’Sé do bheatha, a bhean ba léanmhar

do bé ár gcreach tú bheith i ngéibhinn

do dhúiche bhreá i seilbh meirleach

's tú díolta leis na Gallaibh.

They sung as they marched, the tank men that drove next to them sung as they drove and the men in the trucks sung as they rode. The officers sung, and soon their singing brought the attention of the Germans driving on the highway, as if a huge mass of Green soldiers wouldn't already attract their attention.

Over a grassy knoll they went, bringing into their view Munich. An old German city, a center of Culture and the Arts for the German Nation. Munich had seen itself become apart of many nations throughout its many years, most of them in fact having it be its own soverign nation. But now it was a crown jewel in the pocket of the German Republic, the German Nation.

Óró, sé do bheatha bhaile

óró, sé do bheatha bhaile

óró, sé do bheatha bhaile

anois ar theacht an tsamhraidh.

Soon the dirt they walked upon turned to gravel and then concrete as they stepped off the German Highway system and onto the road that shot straight down Munich. German citizens hung out their windows to see the large mass of armed Irishmen singing as they marched down their street. Along the streets the Munich police had set up some small barricades to make way for the men to march down the streets, and the sideways were lined with people who had now turned to look at the Irish as they made their way into their hometown.

The Armored Division had gone ahead, forming the tip of the little parade as the Motorized Infantry sat in their trucks and drove at the rear of the line. Armored Cars drove on the flanks of the huge line of Infantry, the Jeeps carrying the Officers did the same. The people of Munich began to cheer for the Irish who had come to defend them, throwing flowers and some food stuffs like Bread and Cheese to them. One even threw a bloody bottle of wine to Captaen Murphy, who thankfully managed to catch it before it could hit the pavement. Murphy turned the bottle over to look at the date, showing it to Ceannfort Andrews who simply remarked "Good year".

Tá Gráinne Mhaol ag teacht thar sáile

óglaigh armtha léi mar gharda,

Gaeil iad féin is ní Francaigh ná Spáinnigh

's cuirfidh siad ruaig ar Ghallaibh.

They marched through the Munich streets, they marched and they paraded through its streets. They were greeted with smiling German faces, and a few loaved of bread. Pretty soon a couple of Merchants began to move around carts filled with little Irish Flags, and in an instant the crowds were filled with little Irish flags being waved by anyone from the elderly to the little boys and girls of Munich. Then merchants seem quite pleased.

Óró, sé do bheatha bhaile

óró, sé do bheatha bhaile

óró, sé do bheatha bhaile

anois ar theacht an tsamhraidh.

Provions had been made for the Irish troops in Germany to camp on a hill towards the Eastern Edge of town, the local German army Engineer units had constructed some quick houses and barracks for the Irish. Once they were there it was up to the Irish Engineers to build some more perminant buildings for the Irish Garrison. The 1st Air Wing was based at the Penzing Airbase, just a bit west of Munich, still in range to provide Air support along with the Luftwaffe.

The Irish were here now. They were here to defend this town, because if Munich falls then Germany Falls. If Germany falls then France falls and if France falls, then Ireland Falls. The Irish had already won one war on Irish soil, they didn't want to have to fight another.

No. Ireland was here to stay. It would take a act of god to displace them from their positions.

A bhuí le Rí na bhFeart go bhfeiceam

muna mbeam beo ina dhiaidh ach seachtain

Gráinne Mhaol agus míle gaiscíoch

ag fógairt fáin ar Ghallaibh.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XRNou-7gI4o

Shanghai
Jiangsu Province
Republic of China

August 27th, 1938

The sound of a fog horn blasted across the small bay that was the commercial hub of the Chinese city of Shanghai. A large steam ship dominated the harbor, a ship flying the French flag. Along its deck was a crowd of men in Irish Army Uniforms. The ships plank extended down to the harbor below, and the Irishmen began to disembark from their ship.

Then men gathered themselves up into standard military order, standing at attention in a square formation. Their leader, one Ceannfort Johnathan Straus, stood in front of them, and would speak for them.

A group of Chinese Officers and soldiers came down the steps from the main street to the Harbor. It seems they were here for the Irish. The lead Chinese officers came up to Ceannfort Straus, who extended his hand to his Chinese ally.

Ceannfort Straus: Ceannfort Johnathan Straus, commander of the 8th Irish Cavalry Scouts. I speak for the Irish Officers and NCO's here, along with my Company of Scouts. How do you do, sir?

Bolshoy Kamen
Far East Russia
Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic

August 28th, 1938

Captaen John A. Henry checked his watch nervously. He and the eight man crew of the Vickers Model D along with 82 men of the 7th Cavalry Scouts Company stood on the decks of the small ship, known as the Rusalka, off the coast of a small village known as Bolshoy Kamen. They were here to make contact and help the Russian White Movement, which wanted to restore the monarchy. Henry didn't much like the idea of helping a King, but he supposed it was better than the Commies.

The small steamer pulled into the single dock that existed in the small village. On the dock was a collection of men in what appeared to be the old Russian Uniforms, officer too. The crew of the ship threw their ropes onto the dock, which was tied by a couple of dock workers. The Russians came aboard, and Henry moved to greet them.

"Its a pleasure to meet you Gentlemen. Its all here, as we discussed. We currently carry a cargo of 8,000 Pattern 14 Rifles, 2,000 Webly IV Revolvers, 30 Vickers Guns and ammunition for it all. In addition we have a Vickers Model D tank for you and a Company of Cavalry Scouts to assist you in more Clandestine Operations."

As he spoke, Captaen Henry inserted a key into the lock that was connect to a set of chains over a hatch. He threw open the hatch, showing the Russians the cargo they carried in the ships below decks. The Russians seemed quite pleased.

Mollys Pub
Manhattan Island
New York City
New York State
United States of America

August 10th, 1938

John Berkely grabbed a rag from underneath the counter, and quickly ran it over and in one of the glass mugs that the pub used. One of the customers at the bar, a real regular, motioned for Berkely. He put down the glass mug and instead grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels, and proceeded to fill the mans glass up before putting it back on the shelf behind him.

The bars owner, one James Molly came out from the back room. He placed a small bundle of bills in front of Berkely, his pay for the week, and gave him a quick goodbye. The bar would still be open for a couple more hours, but Molly always left early. Now it was just Berkely, the waitress and the late shift crew who were working the kitchen behind him.

The bar door opened to admit a real regular of the pub, one Nikola Tesla, flanked by two men who Berkely guessed were his NVKD escorts. The set of three sat down at the bar, and Tesla ordered a glass of whiskey. Berkely poured it for him, placing it on the table where Tesla picked it up. The pair of three came in like clockwork to the bar every day, for two months Berkely had been working this job behind the bar he'd seen them come in. One of the men with Tesla took the drink out of his hand and took a sip, the man next to him doing the same. They waited a few seconds before deeming the drink alright and handing it back to tesla, who took a few more sips.

Wrong move, Berkely thought in his head while his face stayed the same as he put the bottle back and moved to help another customer. The bottle Berkely had used to pour Tesla drink was spiked with Thallium; Odorless, Tasteless, easily obtained as Rat Poison and its symptoms were easily confused with regular afflictions, espesically for a 80 year old man and the middle aged agents with him.

Two hours later Berkely finished his shift, and quickly picked up the telephone that was set into the wall of the pub.

"Hello, New York City Police Department, how can i help you?"

Berkely put on his best shaken voice.

"H-h-h-hello? Listen, i'm here at the Molly Pub on Manhattan Island, and theres three guys slumped over the bar. I checked, none of them have a pulse. Please send someone quick"

Berkely put down the phone and walked over to the bodies. He reached into the coats of each of the two dead NVKD Agents and placed badges with their faces and names, marking them as fake Irish G3 Agents. In Nikola Teslas coat pocket, he placed a letter written by G3 about him coming to Ireland to work for the Irish government. With his deception completed, Berkely went back into the kitchen which was now empty as the workers had all gone home. He heard a pounding on the bars door, and heard it open as the sound of boots and "New York City Police Department" came, followed by the hushed muttering of civilians who had followed the sight of police entering the well known city pub.

And Berkely? He disappeared into the sewers below the small establishment through a manhole in the sewer behind him. Never to be seen again by New York Eyes.

Anglo-Irish Border
Ireland

April 29th, 1938

Captaen George Carroway stood in the abandonded industrial warehouse just a few miles south of the Anglo-Irish border. Behind him were two more G3 Agents who stood with M38 Submachine Guns, guarding a large stack of boxes covered in a green tarp. The sound of car engines soon entered Carroway's hearing range, and the old warehouse was soon lit up by the headlights of three cars.

Carroway shifted his weight away from the boxes he'd been resting on to stand tall in front of the cars. The doors to the cars opened, and 12 men in dark green clothes and hats stepped out, a few armed with Webly revolvers. They fanned out in front of the cars, and one of them who was obviously their leader moved ahead of the rest, and spoke to Carroway.

"We're here..."

Carroway nodded.

"This is a one time thing Collins. In these boxes are 7,000 Royal Irish Constabulary Lee-Enfield Carbines along with plently of .303 ammo to keep them fed, and we threw in 12 Lewis Guns. You know what we want you to do with them Collins, get it done."

The three G3 Agents moved from the boxes, and got in their car, and drove off. Leaving the guns for the masked men.

August 25st, 1938

The Irish Herald

WORLD EVENTS | ECONOMICS | POLITICS | THE LATEST NEWS | EDITORIALS

Issued by the Irish National Post Office
Cost; 10 ¢

THE IRISH IN MUNICH!

As of August 25th, 1938, the Irish Expeditionary Force arrived in the German city of Munich. Our proud Irish Boys arrived just days before in the proud and ancient German center of culture. They will stay Garrisoned in the city to defend the city and to help hold the line in Germany to tell those Commies that they won't get past us!

More on page 3

TERROR IN THE NORTH!

Yesterday a group of men who claimed to be apart of the "Irish Republican Army" attacked and burned a Royal Ulsterman Constabulary. They were armed with bolt action rifles and hand grenades plus homemade bombs. The IRA fighters have also begun a full out campaign against the British and RUC in North Ireland, bombing British Army bases along with RUC bases, ambushing British and RUC convoys and planting improvises explosives in the homes of RUC members and British supporters.

More on page 3

THE DEATH OF NIKOLA TESLA

Nikola Tesla, famed Serbian Inventor who had made multiple ground breaking inventions during his time in America, has passed away at the age of 82. Tesla was found dead in a New York Bar, named Mollys Pub, next to two men who have now been identified as Captaen Berkely and Captaen Adams of Irish Military Intelligence, G3. The three men were poisoned by what toxicologists have determined to be Rat Poison, scientifically known as Thallium. The two mens bodies are being brought back to Ireland to be buried. They have no known families but had many friends in the Agency. Tesla's remains, as requested by his family, will be returned to his families home in Serbia, apart of the Yugoslavian SSR. Many have begun to point fingers at the Communists, who many believe had Tesla killed because he was about to go to work for the governments of the Western Allies, specifically Ireland and Great Britain. Neither the Irish Governmnt nor the Yugoslavian government have given any official word on these claims.
More on page 6

by **Greater Slavic Union** » Sun Jul 02, 2017 3:12 pm

Západosłovánska Zviązék Řečýpospolitých Radzěckích
Western Slavic Union of Soviet Republics

Red Army HQ, Khasan, Soviet Far East - April 25th

Zygmunt Berling was probably the most important of the two generals sent to the RSFSR to deal with the situation in the far east, so tense to have even reached the status of an outright conflict, and as such he was the one actually in command, whereas Rola-Żymierski, while still being an incredibly competent general, was not as experienced as his colleague was, despite being older than Berling.

Berling exited the HQ building and went to a nearby rest post where some soldiers were resting: most of them idle while some of them were playing cards or dancing together, in real Russian spirit. Zygmunt approached one of those men in particular, one who was dressed in his service dress uniform, and squatting, obviously on full heels, near a tank, without actually being doing anything. As soon as he reached the man, this guy stood up "Easy, easy... Sergeant" he said, then he squatted down himself and spoke to the soldier. "So, you are the tank commander I have been told about so many times, aren't you?" said Berling to the guy "Comrade Sergeant Ivan Ivanovič Ivanov of the Red Army; born in Leningrad, served in the Army for six years now and stationed here in the Far Eastern Theatre. You know, I have heard of your incredibly good skills..."

"Ah, sir... it's nothing I have to be proud of... I could do more, and that is nothing compared to what I could and should do to help my country and the oppressed people of the world in their struggle towards a socialist future."

"Well, if you say this... I mean, Comrade, it's not so easy to find out somebody who can knock out 12 enemy tanks in a single battle while commanding only his own BT-7 light tank, and I know you agree with me about its poor performances... so, Comrade Sergeant Ivan Ivanovič Ivanov, I have requested official pemission to the President of the WUSR about rearding you with the highest award in the WUSR: the Medal of the Order of the White Lion." Zygmunt told him, handing him a small box with the ribbon and the medal inside. "Obviously, that's not the highest of the Order's levels, but that's still a very important meda, one which you should be proud to have been awarded; officially, it has been given to you for your efforts to safeguard Socialism, and thus the WUSR as well. Futhermore..." Zygmunt said, taking another small box and handing it to Ivan as well "Here, you will find the Virtuti Militari silver cross medal, awarded to you for the dstruction of twelve enemy tanks in just one battle, contributing to the Red Army's victory. I tell you, Comrade Ivanov, that this is not the end: you and your crew are among the ones who have been chosen to receive the ST vz.38 instead of the BT-7. You will find that it has way more firepower, speed, and protection. And well, I am sure that by the end of the war, you will have gained at least another couple Virtuti Militari." he sighed for a moment and then patted Ivanov on the left shoulder. "Now, enough with squatting, Comrade Ivanov: you better hide the medals in a safe place and then go dance with your companions: after, all, you should be happy these days." He didn't give Ivanov a chance to reply, but it's not like Ivanov actually wanted to. He started feeling a sense of friendship and of thankfulness towards a country which may have just kickstarted his rise through the ranks.

Presidential Palace, Warsaw, WUSR - April 23rd

A few days before, a letter from the Government of the Socialist Federative Republic of Jugoslavija had been delivered to the Cabinet in Warsaw, and now, after three days of discussion amongst the members of the government, President Michal was in the process of writing an answer to be delievered as soon as possible to the Jugoslav President, wherever he was at the moment.

The telegram, which according to the President's personal opinion at the beginning, would have been a very long and complex one, turned out to be extremely short.

From: Prezydent ZZRR Michal Kovařícki
To: President of the SFRJ Milan Gorkić

Dear Comrade, and dear fellow Slav, President Gorkić,

It would be a great honour not only for me Michal Kovařícki, but also for all of my people, to be hosting you for a state visit to our country. Such a visit would strengthen the already strong links between the ZZRR and the SFRJ as countries, and between the Western and the Southern Slavic Peoples.

I wish for future cooperation and for a fruitful meeting,

Michal Kovařícki
Prezydent ZZRR

Škoda Factory, Prague, WUSR – May 20th

Ludvík Svoboda, the Army Chief of Staff, was one of the country’s best generals, and also a devoted communist, which made him the perfectly suited candidate for the lead of the Army, at Michal’s eyes. Under Svoboda’s guide, the Army had been transformed from an infantry one to one mainly made up by mechanized, motorized, or armoured units.

Now, Ludvík Svoboda was in Praha, visiting a Škoda factory in the city. He was presented with the new ZK-380S* semi-automatic rifle, which would have been a sensible improvement over the previous models that were now in service in the Army: it improved the fire-rate, and extended the range at which a soldier could have fired a shot with accuracy and the realistical possibility to hit the target he, or she, would have been aiming to.

“This is a very good rifles, my Comrades. It will certainly be useful to the Country’s Army, as it will give us a sure technological edge over the enemies we will have to face, such as the reactionaries… and the Germans. Now, Comrades, I know you have another development to show me, one which is more… suited to me, let’s say, don’t you?”

“Sure we do, Comrade Marshal Svoboda. It is a new tank, one which is based off the blueprints of the RSFSR’s new tank model, the so-called T-34. It has an improved gun, an 85mm gun, whose design comes directly from the RSFSR as well, as it is a ZiS-S-53 divisional gun which has been re-fitted to fit into a tank’s turret.” Said the man who had welcomed Svoboda in the factory, who happened to be Joseph Vollmer, a leading tank designer born and raised in Germany who, upon joining Škoda, had become more and more supportive of the WUSR instead of his own fatherland. He lead Svoboda and the pair of officers that were with him to a testing ground where one of those tanks that were talked about were. Soon enough, he started to speak again.
“This tank, as you can see, it’s a very long tank, being around 8 meters long, just taking into account the chassis; furthermore, it’s 3 meters wide and almost 3 meters tall. It has a pretty rounded turret, which is larger than the one used both on our tanks and on the RSFSR’s original design. It can reach a speed of 55 kilometers per hour, and has an autonomy of almost 500 kilometers.”

“It’s a very god tank… on paper. Let me see what can it do, now…”

“Sure thing, Comrade Marshal.” Said Joseph, and soon enough later, the testing started.

Some three hours later, the testing was ended. the T-34/85’s turret could perform a 360* turn, the engine proved powerful enough to climb a 35°-gradient terrain, and the 90mm-thick armour could withstand direct hits shot from guns as powerful at the enemy tanks’ ones from around 1500 meters. It was a success on the testing ground, and would have been a success on the battlefield as well.

Svoboda could go back to the President’s office with good news, with very good news.

Presidential Palace, Warsaw, WUSR – August 1st

From: Prezydent ZZRR Michal Kovařícki
To: President of the UESR Lev Davidovič Bronštejn “Leon Trockij”

Dear Comrade, and dear fellow Slav, President Bronštejn,

I write to you deeply alarmed and convinced that the clearest of communications is needed in such dire times. You might ask yourself why am I alarmed, and I shall promptly answer your question: because of an article published on the International Worker’s Times, a respectable newspaper edited and published in the UESR and directed to a foreign audience.

Said article, which, to be detailed, was published on the 15th issue of the newspaper on April 25th, was called “The German Question”.

I and my Cabinet, especially the Chancellor and the Sejm Marshall, as already said, are deeply preoccupied and alarmed because of the publication of that article. Not because of the issue that it addresses, but because of the way said issue is treated. In history, the Western Slavs have been many times attacked by the Germans, and in the case of Poland that was possible because of the lack of a physical barrier separating the two states. Now, having been called “Ethno-Nationalist aggressors” by officials of the GFPR has no relevance to us. What is actually alarming is that the article explicitly talked about “Population transfers”, something that has not happened in any possible way. And we do not like our plans for the future to be revealed.

I wholeheartedly ask you, Comrade, to have Mikhail Šolochov edit that article or publish a formal excuse in the name not only of himself, but of the newspaper as a whole, towards the WUSR and its people. The consequences for Mr. Šolochov would be bad, if he did not comply with this decision: the Cabinet has already decided to declare him an Enemy of the Nation, and that means he would be banned from the WUSR. I managed to stop that decision, but I won’t be able to do that for any longer if Comrade Šolochov does not decide to excuse for what he wrote.

Sincerely Yours,
Michal Kovařícki
Prezydent ZZRR

by **Republic of Chiang** » Sun Jul 02, 2017 4:17 pm

Fort Chiang
Chiang Land
Republic of Chiang

August 29th, 1 AC (1938 AD)

The sight of smoke filled the air as dozens of little pit fires burned around the area of Fort Chiang. Three months prior, the first Citizens of the Republic of Chiang showed up in the form of 100 Soldiers who soon pledged their lived to Chaing. Their leader, a man named Chen Wu, was soon named General of the Armed Forces and placed in charge of the men who became the first soldiers of the Chiang Armed Forces.

Since then, the hill that Chiang had lived upon had slowly become a city. It had been named Fort Chiang, and the blue flag flew in everyhome. Chinese peoples from as far as Shanghai had made the journey to Fort Chiang to join him. General Chen Wu had led a building effort which soon led to the new city being protected by a Wooden Wall that extended in a straight line from one end of a mountain to the end of another in the small mountain chaing that circled Fort Chiang.

The Armed Forces, which had expanded to 50 men, patroled the walls. Months before, a package of supplies had landed in the valley, carrying Rifles, Machine Guns, Explosives and Ammunition. They had quickly been distributed to the Armed Forces. Now the Walls had 12 Wooden Turrent Houses built into them, each one having a Machine Gun crewed by three men; One Gunner, one Assistant and one Rifleman.

Two Thousand people now lived around Chiangs hut. With the huge explosion of people, Chiang had instituted the Chiang Act, which created a system of voting for laws. It constituted a huge assembly where every citizen above 18 years of age would gather and discuss. Anyone could propose a law, and then the assembly would vote by submiting a paper that either had one line for Yes or two lines for No. Last Month, the Assembly had passed the Chiang Codex, which created a set of laws outlawing Stealing, Murder, and many other bad things. If you broke the law, you were submited to trial by the Assembly, where they would vote on if you were Guilty or Innocent. From there, they would then vote on your punishment of either a Fine, Banishment or Death.

The community had also expanded the farm, but they still didn't produce enough for everyone. Luckily, caravans made regular ships to the town to trade in Food, tools and more. Chiang had appointed one of his citizens, a former Shopkeep, as Head of the Treasury. The Head of the Treasury then distributed and regulated the Chiang, which was a small wooden coin used as currency. One Chiang was the equivalent of One Pound of Rice, and you could exchange your Chiangs for Pounds of Rice. This was a fairly regular thing; most families and households went every day to exchange one or a couple Chiangs for some Rice.

However, Chiang could tell this might get ugly. So, he needed to expand his amount of rice. The best way to do that, was to take Chiangs largest target, the Ricefields...

Thats what Chiang was doing now. He was sitting in his hut, wearing his Fathers old Uniform. He picked up his fathers Dao from its holder, and slid it into its sheath that was tied to his waste. He then picked up his Scoped Mosin Nagant and placed his Tokarev Pistol in its holster. He'd gotten the Tokarev from that supply drop. He turned on his heel, and opened the wood door to his hut.

As he walked out, the smells and sound of his village assaulted his senses. He could see the local tanner, set off to one side of the town, working some leather. The Blacksmith was hammering out some tools for one of the local farmers, who stood to the side rather annoyed. Merchants lined the sides of the main street, offering up goods produced from the farm. In the middle of town, a small square of land had been set aside for Caravans, and it seemed a handful of them had set up shop, selling goods from the outside world.

Chiang kept watching, some citizens noticing him and giving him a salute, which he returned. At the end of his walk down the main road, he reached the Barracks. Two long wooden buildings built to house the Army and its supplies. Standing in front of them, was the Army. Sixty two men, sixty two men out of the overall hundred (Those not lined up were on the walls) stood ready for their leader.

"Men! Today we shall spread the word of Chiang! Down that road, that small dirt road, is the town of Degen! It is a town of Two Hundred Citizens! Two Hundred oppressed Chinese Citizens who have been put under the rule of the Republic of China! They are forced to work the ricefields by the Republic of Chinese Army, and it is up to us to liberate them! Forward men! Forwards to Victory!!!"

To end his speech, Chiang pulled out his Dao and lifted in the air, with all the men of his army doing the same with theirs. They then sheathed their Daos, and slung their rifles on their shoulders. Each man was armed with a Mosin Nagant, which had been aquired from Supply Drop, along with a Tokarev pistol and three Soviet Grenades in addition to their Daos. Two men of the sixty two men were also each carrying a Degtyaryov machine gun, and three more were carrying between them one Russian Maxim Gun. Five more of them were carrying a QF-18 pounder, which had Finish marks on it.

They moved out of the town, with great cheers coming from the citizens inside while those on the walls saluted their comrads. They then got on the small dirt road that connected Fort Chiang to the town of Degen, which was the only way anyone could reach the small valley that Fort Chiang was in. You see, the small valley that Fort Chiang was built on was completely circled on all sides by mountains except for pass, which is where Degen was built on. Degend was also built upon a river, which would give Fort Chiang a direct source of Fresh Water.

The men of Chiangs army marched until they reached the pass from which they could look down upon Degen. They set up the Field Gun on the hill while the main army formed up below it. Chaing went out in front of them, took his Dao out of its sheath and raised it towards the town, which sat unsuspecting of the attack. Then he yelled, and the army surged forward.

Chiang sheathed his sword and unslung his scoped Mosin, and crouched down next to the Field Gun crew. A massive explosion rang out over the valley as the shell flew through the air and hit one of the villages building, exploding largely. Chiangs scouts had found the location of the local garrisons weapons cache, and they had just hit it. The crew began to reload the gun, they'd been training for this moment for weeks now.

The local garrison, around 30 men, began to come out of their barracks to meet this attack. The sun was slowly setting on the horizon, bathing the battle field in an orange light. Chiangs army reached the town, and the Maxim Gunner set up at the front end of the villages main road. The first men of the Garrison to respond to the attack came down the main street, and were cut down by the Machine Gun and the handful of Riflemen that sat with it. The rest of the unit moved into the town, and formed up a loose line to the side of the barracks. They fired their rifles, cutting down Chinese Republican soldiers as they streamed out.

A couple of Chiangs soldiers lit torches and moved forward, and began to set the barracks on fire. The barracks burned, and anyone inside either burned or was shot as they came out. As the garrison was delt with, the men moved forward and began to occupy the town. Civilians of the town began to come out, and then run in terror at the sight of a invading army. Men moved to stop them from running, and Chiang then moved forward down the hill.

In the center of town, a single long pole stood with the Republic of China's flag. Chiang removed his Dao and cut down the flag, before running up his flag. The citizens of the town were herded to the center by Chiangs Army, and a few soldiers brought out a small table for Chiang to use as a stand.

"Citizens of Degen! Today is a day of praise! Today, the Army of the Republic of Chiang had killed the oppressors that forced you to work at the fields for little to no pay! Today, we have liberated you. Any who wish to leave are welcome to leave, but any who stay will be apart of a nation ruled by Good, Honest Chinese men and women. Where all are truely free. I extend my hand to you, my hand of friendship."

From that day on, the city of Degen and its extensive ricefields now sat under the protection of Chiangs soldiers, and the Blue Flag of Chiang.

by **Hashirajima** » Mon Jul 03, 2017 2:54 am

[Location: Imperial Palace/Salt Tax Administration Building, Manchukuo]

Seated around a long wooden table was the Emperor Kangde, Chamberlain Chuu Kudou, and the various generals of the Manchukuo Imperial Army, all just being briefed on the reforms that His Highness wished to implement. "So... any comments?"

"... sir. With all due respect... our infrastructure is utterly rubbish. Training is lacking, facilities are insufficient, even weapons are in short supply."

"Damn it. Any suggestions?"

"Your Highness," began Chuu. "Both facilities and weapons will take time. I can begin to arrange for them, so perhaps we should start with training?"

[Location: Taiwan Army Training Command, Taiwan]

"RECRUITS! FORM UP!"

At the yell of the sergeant, the bunch of fresh-faced young men hurriedly arranged themselves in some semblence of order.

"Now, we'll be issuing you your new identification papers. Keep them with you at all times, this identifies you as a soldier of the Imperial Japanese Army, and allows you to enter your camps. Understood?"

"Y-yes, sir!"

"I'M NOT A SIR! I'M A SERGEANT, AND YOU'LL ADDRESS ME AS SERGEANT! UNDERSTOOD?"

"YES SERGEANT!"

[Location: IJA Northern Training Facility, Hokkaido]

"COME ON, MEN! TEN MORE KLICKS!"

Behind the lieutenant, the lines of Ainu recruits chorused back. "YES SIR!" Steadily, the group made headway through the spring snow.

[Location: Airspace above airborne Training Facility Kaohsiung, Taiwan]

Glancing across the columns of trainees as a final check, the paracute training conducting officer decided to give them one last reminder. "GENTLEMEN! YOU WILL NOT HESITATE! YOU WILL JUMP, YOU WILL COUNT TO TEN, YOU WILL DEPLOY YOUR CHUTE! EVERYONE UNDERSTAND?"

"YES SERGEANT!"

Nodding, the sergeant watched and a split-second later, the indicator light turned green. With that, the first in line, a certain Private Teruo Nakamura, steeled his fraying nerves and leaped...

[Location: Imperial Palace/Salt Tax Administration Building, Manchukuo]

It was pouring from the heavens. All across the city of Hsinking, people from all walks of life frantically ran for shelter. Except one. A woman, just out of young adulthood, stood before the Imperial Palace that housed the Emperor of Manchukuo. Dressed in the uniform of the French Foreign Legion, she glanced once more at the letter grasped tightly in her hand. Seemingly making up her mind, she headed for the entrance flanked by guards.

"Identify yourself." Her attire drew odd looks throughout her journey across the country, and the guards too were puzzled. Silently, she handed the letter to one of the guards who took a glance... followed by a spit-take.

"W-welcome, ma'am."

Nodding, she retrieved the letter and headed in.

[Location: Meeting Room, Imperial Palace, Manchukuo]

"Your Highness, recruitment seems to be lagging behind our projected targets slightly. However, the Japanese have agreed to supplying us with weapons and other equipment, and the construction firms have begun planning for the refurbishment and construction of facilities."

"Not too bad, I suppose. Now-" Emperor Kangde was abruptly interrupted when the doors were thrown open. "WHO DARES-"

"Raising your voice against me now hmm, Pu Yi?" Unfazed, the newcomer merely raised an eyebrow. "You're the one who requested my presence, remember?"

"... Cousin? When did you arrive? Oh for the love of, did no one offer you a change of clo-"

"Now now, you did say it was a hurry. And honestly? I'm probably more comfortable with what I'm wearing right now." She then glanced at herself. "... if it weren't as wet as it is."

Nodding, Chuu Kudou bowed slightly. "I'll get the servants to prepare you a bath. Also... glad to see you again, Miss Kawashima."

[Location: Emperor's personal quarters, Manchukuo]

"So, Xianyu... why did you leave the Legion?"

[Location: Morocco, 1926]

The doctor came out of the hospital tent, his face grave. He was quickly surrounded by the rest of the platoon. "How's Francis?" At that, the French Army captain laughed.

"Francis? Try Françoise. Your corporal there is a girl! What a disgrace to the Legio-" The captain suddenly found himself muffled, and dragged into the tent.

"Oi, Sergent." Sergei whispered. "She's a girl."

"Let go of me! Of course she's a girl!"

Raising an eyebrow, Sergent Romanov pulled out a boot knife and held it to the captain's neck. "Now now... let us not raise our voices, hmm~? Francis is still resting. Now... Kapitan. No one is going to know about this, alright? No one."

"I... I'll tell the higher ups! And get you all written up for insubordination!"

"No, you won't." Saying that, Romanov held up a bunch of letters. "Or shall I inform the Commandant of your... indiscretions?"

"...fine! But if she's found out... it's on your head!"

Drying her hair, Kawashima Yoshiko or, if one was to use her birth name, Aisin Gioro Xianyu, shrugged as she snapped her thoughts back to the present. "Had enough of the frontlines, I suppose. How are you keeping up then, Pu Yi? I heard about your little bet with Tojo."

"Yes... reforming the Army. I'm... not really sure how. Chuu is handling the logistical aspects, but we need more men. Also, the current forces are woefully undertrained."

"Are they doing anything currently?"

"Not really. Most of the operations are undertaken by the Kwantung Army, still."

"Well, in that case... I say we put everyone back to training."

"But-"

"But what? I've looked up their track record. These guys lost to outlaws. Defected to the outlaws. Gave up their arms to the outlaws. There's simply no excuse. If you want a functioning army, you HAVE to retrain them from scratch."

"In that case... can you..."

"- you want me to train your army for you?" Thinking, Xianyu glanced over at her cousin. 'That little bugger never did have any sort of discipline or work ethic, and seems to still be the case. Perhaps...' "Sure. I'll see if I can get some of my associates around to help. Although... I do have one condition..."

[Location: Manchukuo Imperial Army, Hsinking Training Command, Hsinking]

"... and lastly, Recruit Jin Haoran!"

A tall, gangly individual, wearing round glasses, stood at attention. "HERE, SERGEANT-MAJOR!"

"Good." Turning around, the company sergeant-major reported back to his commanding officer. "All men accounted for, ma'am."

Nodding, the commanding officer, sporting the rank of major, turned to address the new recruits assembled before her.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. I'm Major Kawashima, and I'll be your Company CO for the duration of your stay here, at Hsinking Training Command. You will address me as Major, Major Kawashima, or Ma'am. Is that understood, First Company?"

"YES MA'AM!" yelled the recruits of First Company, Hsinking Training Command.

"Now, I've enlisted a few outside help from the French Foreign Legion, since apparently the entire army is completely without competent individuals. Platoon 1, your Platoon Officer Commanding, or OC, will be Captain Romanov." A surly-looking Russian looked over his new charges, his slight frown hidden behind a thick moustache.

"Platoon 2, your OC is Second Lieutenant Minh." A wiry Vietnamese nodded, eyeing his men.

"Platoon 3, First Lieutenant Sergei." A well-built Bulgarian glance across the recruits, snorting quietly.

"Platoon 4, First Lieutenant Afzal." And as if the rest of his fellows didn't stand out enough as it is, Afzal, a Tunisian, stood out with his dark complexion amongst a sea of paler skin tones. Nodding at Recruit Jin, he chuckled under his breath.

"And your CSM, you should be familiar with him by now. But just in case anyone was sleeping, this is Warrant Officer Armando Salazar, who has kindly returned from retirement to help train you guys. Now, everyone head up to your bunk. OCs, meet me at my office after this. Dismissed!"

=============================

Glancing at the strung out string of trainees struggling to keep up in their jog, Romanov glanced over at his former corporal, now commanding officer, and whispered. "You're shitting me right, Francis? These guys are veterans?"

Sighing, Kawashima Yoshiko/Xianyu/Francis shook her head. "I know. Sometimes... I miss the Legion... OI MAGGOTS! FIVE MORE ROUNDS AROUND THE PARADE SQUARE! And WHAT ARE YOU DOING RECRUIT JIN? MY GRANDAUNT THE DOWAGER CIXI CAN RUN FASTER THAN YOU! AND SHE HAS BOUND FEET! MOVE IT!"

=============================

"Recruit Jin. What are you doing?"

"S-Sergeant Major! My rifle's missing a trigger."
"How. The fuck. Did you LOSE A GOD DAMNED TRIGGER?!" Fuming, Salazar glared at the recruit. "FIRST COMPANY! FORM UP! Your good friend Mister Jin here lost his trigger. Now, you will ALL help him find it. COMB THE ENTIRE FIELD. NOW!"

=============================

Glaring at the dozing recruit, who had been assigned guard duty due to his, honestly abysmal conduct throughout the week, Sergei rapped the guardhouse's corrugated iron wall. "RECRUIT JIN! Sleeping on duty? Are you too tired? Come. That tree over there has something to tell you. Go there, listen to the tree, and report back to me what it said. You have 10 seconds... starting five seconds ago. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!"

=============================

Kawashima looked up from her paperwork at the doorknock. "Who's that?"

"Recruit Jin, requesting permission to enter, ma'am."

"Come in."

As the recruit entered, she could see that he was shaking and his fists were clenched. Angry, then. Nodding to the other staff in the office, she turned her attention back to the newcomer as the room was vacated. "What's the matter, recruit?"

"What's the matter? WHAT'S THE MATTER? WHY AM I DOING THIS? I'm the Emperor of this country, why am I crawling through mud and getting punished and being put through this tor-"

"Enough. You do remember the condition I set for helping you with this, right? And I've already explained my rationale for doing this."

"I still don't understand."

"Come, have a seat. Now, an old commander back in my days at the Legion... I had confided in him about my background, and asked him how I should go about living my life. How should a member of royalty conduct themself in today's world where royal status no longer mattered. He said...

"Royalty might have lost their place in today's world, but their role, that as a leader, remains. Now, to be a king... The king must be greedier than any other. He must laugh louder and rage harder. He must exemplify the extreme of all things, good and evil. That is why his retainers envy and adore him. And why the flames of aspiration, to be as the king is, can burn within his people.

"And I agree. A king in the times past is the pinnacle of society. An individual with absolute power and responsibility. A figure embodying the utmost degree of a nation's virtue. As such, he needs to be intimately knowledgeable with regards to his society. He needs to understand the relationship between power and responsibility. He needs to learn and embrace, to his core, his nation's virtue."

"And so... think about it. What should a king who wishes his people to go to war do?"

Blinking, Emperor Kangde thought about the question for a moment. "I... I see."

"Good. Anything else?"

"No. And thanks... cousin."

=============================

From that day on, Pu Yi threw himself wholeheartedly into his military training. If the recruits are charging a hill, he'll be at the forefront. If they're fording a river, he's already on the other bank, helping his fellow men up. Evenings would see him continue physical training, long after his fellow recruits have retired to their bunks.

And it paid off.

=============================

"Congratulations, recruits! You have all passed Basic Training, excelled in your soldiering skills, conquered all that was placed before you. Be proud of yourself, for this achievement. From today onwards, you all will hold the rank of Private." The graduation parade was attended by the family and friends of the first batch of recruits to pass through the Mukden and Hsingking training centres. All proud that their son, husband, boyfriend (and for a few, daughters, wives, girlfriends) have become proper soldiers.

"Now, announcing the Best Recruit Award for each company. First, Hsingking. From First Company... Private Jin Haoran, from Platoon 4!" A round of applause from everyone, as Pu Yi marched up to receive the award plaque from the commandant of the Hsingking Training Command.

"From Second Company..." Returning to his company, Pu Yi smiled subtly at his cousin, who merely nodded.

At the end of the parade...

"Now, may we invite His Highness, Emperor Kangde, on stage to give a short speech." Glancing over at Kawashima in surprise, Pu Yi only received a nod. He decided that it's best to stick to protocol.

"Permission to fall out, Ma'am."

Smiling, Kawashima nodded. "Permission granted, private."

Falling out from the formation to the shock of everyone present, Pu Yi, also Emperor Kangde, also Private Jin Haoran, strode on stage. "Good afternoon, everyone. Now, let me first congratulate all the new privates on completing their training..."

=============================

From the VIP seating area, GEN Hideki Tojo could only raise an eyebrow, and nodded. 'Not bad, Pu Yi. Not bad at all...'

iiWiki · by **Vionna-Frankenlisch** » Mon Jul 03, 2017 1:57 pm

Rusalka, Bolshoy Kamen

Major Richard Faulkner, a Scotsman from Inverness, was the officer delegated to meet the Irish party, "That's very impressive..." He commented, "Y'know, I drove one of these beauties before." He exclaimed, turning towards Captain Henry, "I used to belong to the Royal Armoured Corps and I tested these babies... She's a beautiful bugger, 'aint she?"

Captain Atkinson, another member of the British contingent of the Vladivostok Whites, was inspecting the small arms and ammunition. "These are very fine rifles, Captain," he remarked, "Almost too good for battle..."

"Now..." Faulkner said seriously, "We need to get moving this equipment as soon as possible, Captain, might I request that you and your men set up a perimeter and keep an eye out for Soviet patrols, we wouldn't want to get caught with this bounty. Horses should be arriving soon to pull this lot to a cave where we can hide it. I'd be honoured, actually, if you'd let me drive that beautiful little tank of yours me'self."

St Petersburg, Russian Northwestern District

General Nikolaev, whilst genuinely rather nervous at first, actually quite enjoyed his new position. He had found starting off rather easy and had already amassed what he thought was quite a good number of followers. One hundred and seventy men now served under him within Leningrad but they lacked a certain... Something.

Perhaps it was the lack of actual purpose, Sergey didn't know why he had been moved to Leningrad and felt that despite his efforts his positioning lacked reasoning. He had been collecting arms, explosives and other equipment for several weeks and despite the people of Leningrad being more loyal to their Communist masters than Sergey believed beforehand it seemed now that more and more were showing their true colours.

Vladivostok, Russian Far East District

Tsar Nicholas III sat nonchalantly on his throne, which was more of a favorite chair, looking over his nobles and officers. "Don't think I'm oblivious..." He finally muttered after a period of awkward silence, "Don't think I don't feel the same way as you. I know that if the White Movement is solely about restoring the rightful House of Romanov to the throne of Russia, we will never win."

This comment appeared to surprise many of those present, some made attempts to disagree but these were soon silenced by a wave of the Tsar's hand. "We must adapt," he explained, "We must become a movement for the liberation of those oppressed by Bolshevism, we must support the Right Wing, the centre and the centre-left if we are to have a hope in hell of securing enough support to liberate our glorious homeland and restore the monarchy."

Along came another round of disagreeing comments but these were quickly silenced by the Tsar once more. "Your Imperial Highness..." Count Pyotr Menshikov, one of Nicholas' chief aides replied, speaking above the group, "It may not please you to hear it but I must agree... The people will never back us if we claim to be solely for the restoration of the monarchy, all of those trodden on by the jackboot of Boshevik oppression and tyranny. Also, I believe we must begin active operations against the Bolshevik menace, we must gain publicity and fame as men who are not afraid to act."

"Very true, Count Menshikov..." Nicholas replied, "And I agree, I feel we must not discriminate between the oppressed. I have in fact been planning two operations for some time now and I'm eager to put them into practice. Tell me, what news have you of our new Saint Petersburg detachment?"

"General Nikolaev sent his fortnightly report last night, Your Imperial Highness," General Miles, another British supporter, replied, "He reports numbers of 170 men, 89 rifles, a pistol apiece and around 90 kilos of explosives of several kinds."

"Very good, we shall convene another meeting soon, once I've prepared the operations fully we can discuss them. I think General Miles and his British contingent already know one of them, a perfect task don't you agree?"

"Yes, Your Imperial Highness. A good initiation for our Irish friends."

by **The Traansval** » Tue Jul 04, 2017 6:25 pm

Minstry for Defense
Dublin
Ireland

August 25th, 1938

Pale sunlight filtered through the windows that were set into the walls of the office of one of Irelands most powerful men. The office of Frank Aiken, the Ministry for Defense for the Irish Government. It was his job to ensure that Ireland was in all ways protected from outside threats, and this mainly focuses on the Irish Armed Forces. This major duty of his job was what was currently filling his time. Ever since he had taken the job along with the Government of the 10th Dail after the declaration of Ireland as the state of Eire in 1937, he'd been working tirelessly to modernize and improve the Irish Armed Forces. He'd started this with simple training, improving the Irish Army from just a bunch of volunteers with guns to a bunch of volunteers who now knew how to use those guns. Veterans from the Civil war had been useful, bringing useful combat knowledge back to the army. These Veterans then became Drill Instructors, and passed their knowledge onto the next generations of Irish Soldiers.

However, training and knowledge is only part of the equation. A soldier can only do so much with his training if his equipment doesn't match. So, ever since the beginning of 1938, when the Dail passed that budget increasing military spending, Aiken had been going crazy with purchases. He'd contracted for No.1 Rifles to be produced by FN Herstal along with M22 Revolvers and AR-1 Rifles. From the Germans he'd bought the M38 smg, and he'd created an Armored Corp and Airforce from nearly scratch.

Just seven months prior, the Irish Army was a force using outdate equipment, with no tanks to speak of and an airforce that was a laughing stock. Now look at, now its a well supplied and effective modern fighting force. A thing Aiken was very proud of.

However, his job was never finished, and they were always needing to do more. Such was the reason of Aikens current meeting. Ghinearál Michael Higgins sat across from Aikens, along with his staff. Higgins was the Chief of Staff for the Irish Armed Forces, he was in charge of every single action the Armed Forces took. Sitting as well in the meeting was Leifteanant-Ghinearál Thomas Brady, Leifteanant-Ghinearál Hubert Gough, Maor-Ghinearál Mathias Everard, and Leas-Aimiréal William Hudon; Commanders of the Infantry, Armored Corp, Air Corp, and Marine Service (Respectively).

This was a semi-weekly occurance, the Ministry for Defense often met with the Armed Forces top men often to work with them on the condition of the army, along with listening to any needs they had. The Air Corp had been chewing his ear off lately about planes, which Everard was doing right now.

"If Ireland is to defend itself against an enemy such as the Communists, who as our intelligence suggests possess massive air fleets, then we need to increase the amount of Air planes in the Air Corp. Ireland has the sea to protect her, the only possible way the Communists could touch us is by air. We need to invest more in the Air Corp, we need more Fighter Planes to defend our airspace and we need Bombers to strike back at the enemy!"

"Everard, i've been working with you on this. We're doing our best to get planes from our allies and have even started small scale domestic production. I don't know what you want me to do; i can't just pull out a Spitfire from my bloody arse!"

That shut up Everard, who slumped slightly in his chair, feeling a little bit like a scolded child.

The room was deadly silent, and Aiken took a few deep breaths to calm himself. He'd always had a problem with his temper, a thing which had been useful during his Irish Republian Army days, but not so much currently as he fought battles not with guns but with Politics. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and then slowly brought his head up to regard the men in the room, specifically one in particualr who was apart of Ghinearál Higgins staff; Coirnéal John Collins, the Quarter Master General.

"Coirnéal Collins, i'd like you to give me a report on the amount of Equipment we've recieved since your last report three months prior."

The rooms attention now turned and focused solely on Collins, who looked up from a stack of papers on a clipboard he had in his lap. Collin's aid, Captaen Franks, looked over to his superior as the man gathered up his papers and sat straight up, addressing the Minister.

"Well sir, our current inventory lists as follows; we have in active service Seventy-Eight M1 Armored Cars, Two Hundred and Sixty Two M2 Light Tanks, One Hundred and Twenty M3 Infantry Tanks, Forty-Eight M2 Armored Cars, One Hundred and Twenty Mk1 Medium tanks, Fifty Six M4 Heavy Tanks, One Hundred and Eighty M5 Medium Tanks, and Sixteen AC1 Sentinels."

"What about our Motorization efforts? I contacted the Americans and they had agreed to begin shipping in our requested amount of M3 Halftracks and GMC Trucks, which would both be labeled M1 Halftrack and M1 Transport Truck respectively."

"Yes, Yes, the American aid did arrive sir. One Thousand, Two Hundred M1 Halftracks and many more M1 Transport Trucks. As we speak their being transported to our Brigades, with a few on the docks in Cork waiting for one of our transport ships to take them to our men in Munich. We're hoping that after delivery we can begin training the men in Mechanized Tactics; our hope is that our men will be fully trained in operating and using these vehicles in a combat situation by mid-to late 1939."

Minister Aiken looked up from his notes, he'd been expecting this to take less time then that.

"Why so long? I was expecting we could have this done by the end of the year..."

"Well sir thats simply unreasonable. Your talking about introducing a brand new machine of war to these men who have already been trained in conventional warfare. Its going to take many many months to full train our Infantrymen in the use of these Vehicles sir, there is simply no short cutting this. Any cuts in the timeline will cut the quality of our troops significantly."

This troubled Aiken; he wanted to fully Mechanize the Irish Army as soon as humanly possible. He saw the storm clouds looming on the horizon, intelligence reports were stating that the Soviets had been building up their armies and they new that soon, at any moment war could break out. He needed these men ready, but he also wanted these men to be the best possibly quality they could. So, he supposed he'd just have to pray that war would wait.

"Alright, i suppose mid-1939 is not totally unreasonable. Now, more on the state of the Infantry, what is it looking like on the Small Arms and Artillery front?

Collins quickly swapped papers around on his clipboard before arriving at the page he apparently wanted.

"Currently we have around One Hundred Thousand No.1 Standard .303 Rifles in our inventory, Twenty Thousand No.2 .22LR Training Rifles, Four Thousand No.3 Marksmen Rifles in .303, Seven Thousand Automatic Rifles No.1, Thirty Thousand M38 Submachine Guns, Ten Thousand M21 Light Machine Guns in .303, Eleven Thousand M21 Machine Guns in .303, Eight Thousand M38 Heavy Machine guns in .50 BMG, Eighty Thousand M22 Revovlers, One hundred and thirteen thousand Mills Bombs, and So far we've managed to convert around a quarter of our total supply of Bayonets to the smaller Pattern 37 style."

"Hmm... I want you to ask around and work on increasing our conversions of the Bayonets. If i want a effective modern Irish Force, i don't want them parading around with Bayonets longer then a mans willy. Its just simply ineffective. What about our requests for the obtainment of Anti-Personnel and and Anti-Armor mines?"

The sound of rustling paper could be heard as Collins flipped even more pages. It seemed they really needed a better way to organize these papers, Aiken noted in his head.

"We've aquired a inventory of German Tellermine 42's and S-Mines, which we're distributing to Engineer units within the Army. Field Trials have shown them to both be quite effective in their roles."

"Hmm, good good, what of the state of the Artillery Corps?"

Rustling paper once more, Collins REALLY needed better organization.

"Well sir, we've adopted and distributed multiple Allied designs of Artillery. Currently we employ the US 203mm, 75mm, 155mm, and 105mm US Howiters, along with the US 90mm Anti-Aircraft gun, 75mm Field Gun, and US 81mm and 60mm Mortars. In addition we're using the British QF-25 Pounder, along with the German 50mm and Bofors 37mm Anti-Tank guns. We've equipped all the Brigade's organic Artillery units along with the three seperate Artillery Regiments."

"Wonderful, Wonderful, these seem good for now. However i'd like to set up a commission to review the possibility of Coastal Guns. I've plans for building a few defenses on the South Irish coast to improve on our advantage of having the British Channel. Speaking of Commissions, how comes that project on possibly creating a revolving periscope?"

This time, instead of Collins, its was Leifteanant-Ghinearál Hubert Gough, commander of the Armored Corp. He'd stayed silent for the meeting, until then.

"We've of course received plenty of quacks who just wanted to receive the reward, however we did get one submission from Thompson and Sons which we've approved. It uses some confagled mechanism that lets the commander move his periscope. We've approved it for production and have sent it off for installation on all new production tanks. We've also begun distributing them to Engineer units with the Armored Divisions to begin installation on Armored Units already in service, along with to the Engineers in the Brigades organic Cavalry Battalion to instal them on their M3 and M2 tanks."

"Good, Good, wonderful. This will give us a good edge in our armored units. I want you to begin designating armored vehicles with the.. uh whats it called?"

"Oh we've designated the Mark 3 Periscope"

"Right right, well i want you to begin designating armored vehicles that are installed with the M3 Periscope with a a1 on their name. So we can tell them apart."

This last part he directed at Collins, who looked to his Aid who already was making notes to implement the Ministers wishes.

"Yes Sir Mister Minister, we'll get working on the books and with the factories and Engineers to begin designating these."

"Good, excellent, wonderful. Now Collins, i want the inventory on our Aircraft for the Air Corp. Everard has been chewing my ear off on this, and i want to see our current numbers, to see how many more we need to order for him"

Rustil- Oh for christ sakes, Collins though as he practically wrestled with the papers once more trying to find the Air Corp Invoice.

"Well sir we currently in have service; Four Gloster Gladiator Biplane Fighter Aircraft, Sixteen Avro Anson Transport aircraft, Three Supermarine Walrus Amphibians, Twenty Two FFVS 22s, Two Bristol Blenheims, Five Supermarine Spitfires, Fiften Dewoitine D.520s, Six Westland Lysander Mark Twos, and a number of Trainer aircraft."

"I see, i see. We are lacking in Bomber Aircraft for any offensive actions, and we couple use more Fighters for our defense. Maor-Ghinearál Everard, what is it that you would recommend for increasing our air capacity?"

A smart look came across Everard's face as he sat up straighter in his chair, ready to unleash the speech he'd been preparing for weeks.

"Well sir, our allies in Britain, France and the United States have very very excellent Airplane designs. I think it would only be beneificial if we employ more of these designs. In particular the British have an excellent Fighter plane, the Hawker Hurricane, which i implore you to purchase. I'd suggest purchasing maybe twenty or so Hawker Hurricanes from the British. The Americans also have excellent Bombers, in particular the B-17, which would be best supported by the German Me.109 Fighter aircraft and the American Vought F4U Corsair. I'd recommend the purchase of 16 B-17's along with 23 Me.109's, 20 F4U Corsairs, and the American PBY Catalina which we can use for special purposes. We also need more Light and Medium Bombers, in particular more of the Bristol Blenheim to serve as Light Bombers and the German Heinkel He. 111 to serve in a Medium Bomber role. I'd suggest the addition of 20 Heinkel He.111's and 23 more Bristol Blenheim's into the Air Corps inventory."

"Collins, i want you to get right on the horn and work these out. I want those planes on the tarmac by November, you hear?"

"Yes Sir, me and Franks will get right on it, sir!"

"Right then, are there any other concerns?"

The room remained silent while Aiken looked around.

"Right then, meeting adjourned"

by **Lan Khao Xang Hom Krung Tai** » Thu Jul 06, 2017 11:31 am

République française

The French Republic

Paris, Élysée Palace, President's Office
"President Beauchamp, we must bring support to China in someway." Garnier said, walking into Beauchamp's office. "It is clear enough that the WUSR and UESR are not just sending 'volunteers'."

"What do you want me to do?" Beauchamp replied. "The Foreign Legion being there trying as much as they can."

"We must do more. Pledge your support for the Chinese government. Deploy troops to China. Arm and train their armies."

"But for what, Garnier? To test the response time of the UESR?"

"Send our men to China, and we shall show them that we shall not be tested! If it's successful, perhaps will join your efforts for your goals for France."

"Perhaps, but if it doesn't, then the blood of many Frenchmen will be on your hands."

Northern China, 'Front-lines'
"Not much luck here, huh Said?" Adrien said, tossing group of captured rifles into a pile as Said was dragging out a crate from their recent discovery, a small cache.

"Easy for you to say when you aren't the one dragging around these rifles!" he replied, carrying what looked to be six or so rifles and a few submachine guns. "I'm not this unit's pack mule!"

"Adrien, if its search and destroy, why can't we just toss a few grenades into the cache and be done with it?" another asked.

"We could perhaps send it into the KMT, Anton. It have much better use there that just destroying it and leaving them to rust." Adrien answered. "Perhaps you could get something on the side from one of those officials as well. The ammunition however, we must leave a lot of. Rig the explosives and we shall take the rifles. No doubt the KMT will have enough ammunition from other captures."

iiWiki · by **Vionna-Frankenlisch** » Fri Jul 07, 2017 2:06 pm

Regno d'Italia

Rome
Italy

King Victor Emmanuel III

The Soldier King sat motionless in his chair, monotone and emotionless he read through another letter, wincing slightly at the wording. "The people grace you with their writings, illiterate as they may seem..." Marshall Pietro Badoglio said, in a vain attempt to calm the King.

"I have no problems with the bad Italian..." Emmanuel said, "Just the words, I am a bastard son of a poxed whore if these letters are to be believed... We're not popular, Pietro, the people are starving, the economy is failing and there are no jobs. We need to kick our industry into gear, the nations of Europe from Yugoslavia to Ireland are industrialising rapidly and forming mighty armies, it's high time the Italian Empire did the same. We need tanks, guns and aircraft to equip our armies and ships to bolster our mighty fleets."

Badoglio replied, "I agree wholeheartedly, your majesty, I will speak with the Council later and begin our efforts. We'll get the lazy buggers to work!"

by **The Free Territory of Makhnovia** » Sat Jul 08, 2017 12:07 pm

Trieste Italy

"Avanti o popolo, alla riscossa,
Bandiera rossa, Bandiera rossa.
Avanti o popolo, alla riscossa,
Bandiera rossa trionferà"

Workers of the FIAT auto-parts factory were lined up in the front rows, their voices rising in unison as they sang. Dockworkers, textile workers, even some school teachers and students were there on Piazza Unità d'Italia demonstrating. Amongs them, Nicolo Euermeir stood, his fist in the air, another hand on the butt of his service pistol. He was sent there to organize the strike, and he was supprised with sheer amount of support he had managed to gain. Many non-communist workers joined, and abdication of King Victor Emmanuel III and resignation of Badoglio's government were proposals articulated by workers themselves, he didn't have to do any agitation himself- it seems that there was genuine disssatisfaction with the government. There were carabinieri on horsemen on the other side, and this was his moment. Some comrades starting pushing the police back, thick wooden batons were brandished. He didn't think much, he pulled out his gun, aimed quickly, and shot cracked. One of the policemen fell down, clutching his hip. Soon more shots rang. He knew, that several of the workers had guns and hand grenades- hell, he and couple of other Yugoslav communists have distributed them beforehand. He ran back, looking for cover. Several comrades were on the roofs opening rifle fire on the policemen below. The policemen returned fire, and ear-piercing sounds of gunshots was heard among the screams of the wounded. As he hid behind one of the overturned carts and after crowds of men escaping from the slaughter the protest turned in, passed him by, rose up and quickly moved towards the industrial quarter, using back alleys.

Kolomban, Italian-Slovenian border

Major General Jadranko Smolej stood at his desks. Commands were barked outside in Italian, rumble of the armored divisions and screams fo horses, chatter of soldiers. Togliatti was training his men. One armored and one infantry division passed through and continued further west where they thought Badoglio's line of fortifications is SET further apart. He discussed things yesterday with Major General Arsa Jovanović and with Togliatti himself and they came to the conclusion that they will be able to reach Trieste without difficulty as soon as they manage to overcome militarymEn guarding the border since artillery positions were further north in the Alpine part of the border. Everything was ready, he only needed to wait for Italians to escalate.

The phone on his table rang twice. He picked up:

"It's on, comrade Major General!" He recognized Euermeier's voice by his bad Croatian spoken with lispy Italian accent." I am here in one of the coffe-shops, near Inustrial district. The whole place is barricaded by workers. Shooting started, there are molotovs and grenades flyind everywhere. Things are ready for us to intervene."

"I see. We will hear from each other soon."

He hung up. There was no time for him to tell goodbye to his wife, no time for further preparations. Orders from presidency were clear- as soon as Italian police uses lethal force against their workers they were supposed to move. He started dialing numbers of other divisions officers.

FROM: Presidency of the Socialist Federative Republic of Yugoslavia
TO:Governments of the UESR

According to our sources Italian police turned guns and clubs against their own people once again. Since many victims of their previous fascist savagery found their refuge here in Yugoslavia we know of their suffering and of the iron grip of Badoglio's fascist on their families abroad. People under opression should have right of protest, workers under capitalism should at least have right to organize: since Italy violated those rights and since workers of Trieste decided to take matters into their own hands, we will give striking workers our armed support. We are counting on our allies to stand by our side.

Death to the Fascism! Freedom to the people of Italy

Presidecy of the SFRY

iiWiki · by **Vionna-Frankenlisch** » Sat Jul 08, 2017 1:47 pm

Regno d'Italia

Rome
Italy

King Victor Emmanuel III

"Well... They've done it, Your Majesty..." Marshall Giovanni Messe reported, "The people in Trieste have revolted and our policemen and Carabinieri are dying and being injured in the streets. We must restore order, but I think we should keep the response light, we don't want an open rebellion on our hands."

"Agreed..." The king muttered in reply, "Trieste is in your sector, Marshall, I will leave the situation to you. I've no doubt that the treacherous Yugoslavians will do their best to profit from the situation so I have ordered the reassignment of four divisions of Alpine troops and three Motorised divisions to your sector to intimidate the Yugoslavians and, if need be, fight them off."

"Thank you, your majesty."

"I don't want the people of Trieste to be threatened by this, I want them to welcome the military as a source of income, have the factories of Trieste start building equipment and supplies, especially tanks, I want the docks building destroyers and cruisers and the textile workers producing uniforms for our men in the field. Start a recruitment campaign in the city, no drafting, volunteers only. I want the city of Trieste to be the centre of Italian military strength in the region. This minor lapse in loyalty amongst the people of Trieste could be a great opportunity for us to restore prestige, if we handle it well..."

"Understood, your majesty, and might I say that it is a bold and ingenious plan."

"You might, Marshall... You might..."

Message to all forces within Trieste

Code: Select all: To Policemen, Soldiers and Carabinieri within the city of Trieste This is a black day for the Kingdom of Italy, unrest has broken out throughout the wonderful city of Trieste and the people actively revolt against authority. Policemen are to remain at their stations and are only to fire if fired upon, all military forces in the city garrison are to remain confined to barracks until relieved. Both police and army forces are to stay on high alert as those communists working against the Italian people from within are likely to try to secure weaponry and captives. Carabinieri are permitted to patrol the streets in packs to defend against attacks from agitators, it is recommended however that they too remain confined to barracks. Castello Miramare and Castel San Giusto are to be held by Carabinieri and Italian Army forces at all costs as the weaponry housed within the castles are to be kept from the agitators at any cost, in the worst case scenario these weapons are to be destroyed or damaged to a point at which the agitators cannot use or repair them effectively. Vital communications points and positions of strategic importance across the city such as Post Offices, Hospitals, Telecomms Centers, Radio Stations and Public Transport Stations are to be held by combined Army, Carabinieri and Police units. Military reinforcements are en route already and are expected to arrive within 72 hours. Until these forces arrive no agitators or suspects are to be attacked or apprehended unless directly threatening or attacking the afforementioned positions. - Giovanni Messe, Marshall of Italy and Military Governor, Eastern Sector

by **Lan Khao Xang Hom Krung Tai** » Sat Jul 08, 2017 2:23 pm

Les Mêmes Nation

LE MONDE | L'ÉCONOMIE | POLITIQUE | TECHNOLOGIE | ÉDITORIALS

Numéro 4. Août 29e, 1938. Edited by Marc Messier and Viviane Cordonnier, Les Mêmes Nation Office of Paris

FORCES ARMÉES ON THE RISE!
By Napoléon Auger

Recruitment for the army is on the rise

With national pride rising, pursuing the goal of a Greater France, many young men join the army to provide a service to the nation. With the words of President Beauchamp, brave young Frenchmen are encouraged to join the army to defend la patrie. With a split in Germany, and the threat of Eurasia looming over the French homeland, the number of enlisted men has risen. Even in the African territories, the Army of Africa is also on the rise for recruiting. With the rise of communist nations, the French people shall not be left to the whims of larger armies! The Army of Africa grows from 400,000 to 500,000, with the prospects of supporting the Presidency of Beauchamp.

Last month, during Bastille Day, the army had unveiled their newest armored force of Char G1Rs. From official government reports and contacts, the new armored vehicle was reported to theoretically better than the best Eurasian tanks. Renault, the producers of these new vehicles have promised an ambitious production number of twenty tanks per month in each factory.

The navy and the air-force, however, shall not be let behind. The navy launches the Joffre-class carrier, the second fleet carrier of the navy, while the destined third carrier, the Painlevé lies in construction. In the naval offices, there has been debate of scrapping the Alsace-class production for the construction of more Joffre-class carriers. There has been no official comment from the naval office.

The air-force, too has their aces. Bomber and fighter production have taken off, with the Dewoitine fighters and Bloch and Breguet bombers. In the strong defense of the vast French nation, such endeavors must be taken, to ensure that the skies over the lands stay French.

CHANGE FOR THE PEOPLE OVERSEAS; TO BE SUBJECTS, NO MORE
By Céleste Leroux

Lamine Guèye, a new member
of the national assembly

President Marcel Beauchamp, with the help of some of the socialist members of parliament are hoping to push for a law that grants a truer equal rights for all of the French territories, so that they are subjects, no longer. However, this law has been faced with opposition of the conservatives of the nation, citing it as an act that would slowly turn them into the 'enemy' that was the UESR.

Beauchamp promised in a statement that "The French Republic was found on socialist principle. We should strive to integrate the overseas 'colonies' as a part of France, not just an extension. We should look to be equals, not master and serf, the very form the Republic was birthed to dismantle."

The President's statement has garnered the support of many of those with more socialist leanings, and those of African descent, such as the newly elected member of the national assembly, Lamine Guèye. Guèye and left-wing assembly members are in support of Beauchamp's move, which has upset some in government. Other officials have refused to comment on his statement.

SUPPORT FOR THE REPUBLIC OF CHINA
By René Rigal

Troops of the Foreign Legion being deployed to
the Republic of China in support of the KMT

Following advances by CCP forces in the China, backed by the UESR and the WUSR; Beauchamp officially voices his support for the ruling KMT. Within recent events, the UESR and WUSR have been funneling combatants and weapons to the communist insurgents, adding oil to a flame on the world stage. In response, Beauchamp has official pledged his support for the ruling KMT government.

In what this conflict may escalate into, the armed forces, everywhere from Indochina to Paris are being mobilized for in expectation for war. General Gaubert issued a statement that "French troops everywhere are being mobilized, in the case that the communists wish to escalate the Chinese conflict into anything greater."

The first divisions of infantry from France are expected to arrive by next month.

by **Waztaskio** » Sun Jul 09, 2017 11:34 pm

The White House - Washington D.C, September 1st 1938

In the Franklin D. Roosevelt White House, it was surprisingly quiet for your average day. In an administration which has begun to spearhead efforts ignored by their republican predecessors, where advisors, secretaries, and military officials would be in and out of the Oval Office, today this was simply not the case. Sat down in his wheelchair at his desk, as he prepared for his one official meeting of the day, with his Joint Chiefs of Staff. Secretary of Defense Stimson, had decided that in order to ensure the branches of the United States Military were more in cooperation with each other instead of forming their separate chains of command, he requested for the president to name him as special cabinet of military officials who would advise them both on military matters. The process began in 1936 after the reelection of Franklin D. Roosevelt, and finished near the end of 1937. A list which Franklin D. Roosevelt was quite pleased with.

Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff - Admiral William Harrison Standley
Vice Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff - General Malin Craig
Chief of Staff of the Army - General George Marshall
Commandant of the Marine Corps - General Thomas Holcomb
Chief of Naval Operations - Admiral William D. Leahy
Chief of Staff of the Air Force - General Henry H. Arnold
Chief of the National Guard Bureau - General Albert H. Blanding

As Franklin sat at his desk, a knock on his door ensued to which he directed the person to come inside. "Mr. President, they're here." It was Roosevelts secretary Marguerite LeHand, who had been with him since his Vice Presidential ticket during the 1920s. She was officially named the Personal secretary to the President, a position which she administers with effectiveness and dedication. "Thank you Missy, send them in." LeHand nodded, as she soon began to motion for the generals to enter the room as they made their way to the couches. Roosevelt, staying behind his desk smiled as the men took their seats. "These men, where the future of America's struggle against Communism." At least, these were the thoughts Roosevelt had. Each general, highly recommended by the Department of the Defense established in 1934, with experience from World War I all the way back to the Spanish-American War. He felt lucky to have such a dedicated group of individuals who could help formulate US Military doctrine, and looked forward to the discussion.

"Gentlemen, welcome to the White House. We have much to discuss if the United States is going to come out on top of these Communists. We are going to need to formulate a strategy here, not only for the defense of our mainland, but for the defense of any allies we can muster against these crusaders of idiocracy." Admiral Standley began to speak, "Mr. President. As Chairman, I believe I shall be conveying most of the concerns we have with the state of military preparation. Right now, the United States Military is in a decent state in order to defend itself, but the projection of this power is where our issues are. This Leon Trotsky, is a very aggressive man, but unfortunately this is as far as our intelligence on them goes. I believe the first order of business, is to ensure that our intelligence gathering abilities are a high-priority."

Intelligence, a vital aspect especially in the upcoming struggles. As it stands, the United States Intelligence capabilities really remained pretty segregated. The United States Army and United States Navy having separate intelligence wings within their structures, with the only true large gathering agency being the newly created Federal Bureau of Investigation in 1935, along with other organizations like the United States Secret Service which had greatly expanded it's role after the assassination of president Herbert Hoover almost a decade ago. The admiral was right, it must be a high-priority. "Agreed Admiral. However, what kind of agency would you propose to take on this endevour and how would it operate?"

"Mr. President, we believe it must operate as an agency answering to the Joint Chiefs, responsible for analyzing information gained from the various intelligence agencies in the respective military branches. An Office of Strategic Services, if you were." An Office of Strategic Services. An idea originally proposed by Secretary of Defense Stimson in 1936. It was never implemented formally, however now it may gain more traction due to the growing threat of communism. "I'll approve an executive order later today, formally authorizing it's creation, admiral." This brought a smile to the admirals face, as he gave a nod. For the rest of the meeting the president discussed the future of the United States Military in terms of new technologies for ships, aircraft, tanks, industry, etc in order for the president to be fully informed on the state of his military. Towards the end of the meeting most of the Joint Chiefs were dismissed with the exception of the Chairman, who was ordered to stay behind once the meeting ended.

"Well Mr. President, what do I owe the pleasure of staying behind?" Franklin, began to move away from his desk as he rolled a little closer to the general as he proceeded to hand him an envelope. "It's a matter I want to keep private for now admiral, and the contents of this document should explain why. Please see to it that this is thoroughly investigated, and report back to me when possible." The admiral, nodded to the president before exiting the office and proceeded to his ride outside. As he entered, he began to open the envelope and read over it's contents. "Oh my, this is going to be interesting."

Minor Events:

Anti-Communist Propaganda posters continue to be spread in many cities across the United States, leading to fears of agrivating of the native communist. Director J. Edgar Hoover of the FBI dismisses the claim, stating that the "Communist will be running from the Pacific to the Atlantic, and not back when we're finished here."
Rumors of a new Communist Control Act being submitted to Congress intensifies, after Kansas Representative William P. Lambertson and Democratic Representative Michael J. Stack make a public speech denouncing communism as "A plague upon the nation, which needs to be addressed by matters of the law."
The Supreme Court formally abandons attempting to stop President Franklin D. Roosevelt, officially ending the era of the Iron Horsemen.
Executive Order signed, authorizing the Secretary of Defense to begin operation of the Office of Strategic Services.
American Ambassadors across the world, emphasize the need for democracies and anti-communist nations to stick together. Offering American guarantees of support against communism.

by **Hashirajima** » Mon Jul 10, 2017 2:27 am

[Location: IJN Yamato, Anchorage 1, Maizuru Naval Base]

Peacetime. On a warship. For the crew of the Japanese carrier Yamato, it merely meant another day to drills and chores. After all, it would not do for the symbol of Japanese naval might to lag behind the others in proficiency.

Today, it was anti-aircraft action. A click of a stopwatch came from the conducting officer. "Captain. All hands ready at 7 minutes 32 seconds."

Just as the commanding officer of the ship, Captain Takayanagi Gihachi, was about to speak, a voice sounded out from the door into the main bridge.

"So, Captain Takayanagi, any opinions?" The captain whirled around to reveal ... wait. Since when did Commander-in-Chief ISOROKU YAMAMOTO ever do sheepish? And beside him...

A split second later saw every occupant of the bridge bowing. "Welcome on board, Your Majesty. Apologies for not welcoming Your Majesty by proto-"

"No matter. It's a suprise visit after all. My idea. So... about the drill, Captain? ... and please, at ease, gentlemen."

Glancing at the conducting officer and checking that he got the timing correct, Takayanagi shrugged. "Your Majesty, we're hoping to bring response time down to below five minutes by today, hopefully less eventually. To be fair to the men, these are new recruits."

"I see. Well, continue then. Come, Marshal Admiral. I wish to visit the quarters."

"Here, Your Majesty." Nodding towards the bowing officers, Yamamoto followed Emperor Hirohito out of the bridge.

"Alright, another round."

"Yes, Captain!"

===== Later that day... =====

Taking his time to stay out of the way of busy men, Hirohito toured the various sections of the ship. He took a taste of today's lunch, the traditional curry, as he passed by the galley. There, he also received an onigiri from a young recruit by the name of Moriwaki. Leaving just as lunch came around, he went on to tour the other departments, hoping to gain more insight into the navy's daily workflow.

Just as he was about to leave, in the late afternoon, the Emperor heard a yell coming from one of the doors. Looking to Yamamoto for an explanation, he found the commander-in-chief with an unreadable expression on his face. "What is it, Isoroku?"

"... Your Majesty... should we not hurry? I understand you have more events lined up later?"

"... you're avoiding the question, Marshal Admiral." Frowning, Hirohito walked up to the door and pulled it open. In the corridor, he found what appeared to be two petty officers berating a group of recruits. Except one of the recruits was standing up while clutching onto a pipe, and one of the petty officers had a baseball bat in his hands...

===========================

"Spread your legs! Hands up, grit your teeth!" His face expressionless, Seaman Recruit Uchida assumed the position instructed by the petty officer. Then, the bat impacted across his rear, sending him stumbling into the pipe in front of him. Groaning, he pulled himself up. "Again!"

Just as he regained his footing from what seemed like the sixth strike, a new voice rang out from the end of the corridor. "ALL OF YOU, STOP THAT! You, petty officer! What is this? Explain yourself!" Turning, Uchida saw two officers striding towards them. The one leading was thunderous, if his expression was to go by, while the one behind seems almost apologetic. Then, the recruit's gaze landed on the collar rank tabs-

Wait. Marshal Admiral... and ... does the lead officer have SIX STARS WHAT IS THE EMPEROR HIMSELF DOING HERE?!

Glancing around, he saw the two petty officers frozen in fear while his fellow recruits hurriedly bowed. Low. Hissing out in pain, Uchida tried to bow too, but stopped short when the pain was too much. Losing his footing, he fell forward.

===========================

Catching the falling recruit, Hirohito called out to his navy chief. "Get this boy to the medical bay." Uchida was passed to one of the aides following the tour, who hurried off. Now, turning his attention fully to the remaining crew...

"You, the one with the bat. Come here." Gulping, the petty officer approached, "Your Majesty..." - only to find a hand in front of his face. "Hand that over." Bowing, he presented the bat to the Emperor.

"Hmm... a solid piece. Hinoki cypress, if I'm not wrong?"

"Y-yes, Your Majesty."

Handing the bat to an aide, Hirohito casually asked. "Isoroku. Tell me, have we not abolished corporal punishment in the military?"

"Since the late 1800s, Your Majesty."

"I see. So... what's the penalty for failing to abide by military codes of conduct?"

"To be decided before a court-martial hearing, ranging from stoppage of leave to detention. For assaulting a fellow member of the military-"

"Well... what are you waiting for, then?" At that, the petty officer was brought away, escorted by military police personnel who was summoned in the meantime. Turning to the other NCO, Hirohito raised an eyebrow. "And you? What happened here?"

"Your Majesty... a porthole was found left open last night. We were supposed to reprimand the recruits, but Petty Officer Watanabe suddenly brought out the bat-"

"I see." By then, the officers in charge of Yamato had been drawn to this fiasco below the decks. Stepping forward, Captain Takayanagi bowed.

"Your Majesty, I apologise for my crew's misconduct-"

"Does this happen often?"

"W-what..." Sighing, the captain nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty. It is widespread throughout both branches, although corporal punishment had by right been long abolished."

"I see. Gather everyone on deck. I have an announcement to make."

===========================

Observing the officers and men gathered in ranks and files across the vast flight deck, Hirohito stepped onto the podium. "Good afternoon, men of Yamato. We are going to be brief here.

"Just now, We found a petty officer implementing corporal punishment on a recruit. Now, let Us stress once more, and may this be the last time. Corporal punishment is NOT a penalty that is permitted within the military of the Japanese Empire. Not in the Navy, not in the Army. Any attempt at doing so will be treated as assault of a fellow military personnel, and handled accordingly.

"Commander-in-Chief. Make sure this announcement is made known to all military personnel. The Army as well. That's all."

===========================

Leaving the vessel behind as they headed back to shore, Hirohito took the time to review some of the reports he received along the day. "So... how is the Naval Armaments Supplement Programme?"

"Your Majesty. Fitting out of the Musashi is going on schedule. Construction of Shinano and Yoshino have also begun. Preliminary planning for the Taihou-class has also begun, though according to the architects, they seem to want to overhaul the design for the vessels following the lead ship.

"Remodelling of the two cruise ships into light carriers are also underway. Destroyers-wise, the Yuugumo-class should be completed within the coming two years-"

"Is it possible to hasten this batch?"

"I'll forward your request. Also, the preliminary blueprints for the Akizuki-class are recently complete, barring approval from the admirals in charge of the procurement programme.

"Finally, the Minekaze-class have been rearmed for anti-submarine operations. Crew manifests should be confirmed in the coming days, and mustered for exercises. All that's left on that front would be the Kamikaze-class."

Nodding, the Emperor gazed out into the sea. "Good. I worry that the situation with the Soviets will only worsen eventually, despite our diplomats' best efforts. In the situation where war breaks out, as much as I hope it will not be the case, we have to swiftly eliminate the Soviet's naval presence in the Pacific. Their base up in the north is too close, and threatens the home islands' security too much."

"Understood, Your Majesty. I'll instruct our commanders to begin making plans."

[Location: Yokosuka Naval Air Technical Arsenal]

"Oh, what's that, Tanaka?"

"A new dive bomber I'm designing. It's going to be faster and more maneuverable than the Type 99 we're deploying now."

"Oh, that's the model in the wind tunnel, right? Those guys called me up about it, said someone tossed a mock-up in without signing in."

"Yeah... oops?"

"Do a metal mock-up. You never know what problems you missed with a wood model. Also... seriously? No protection at all?"

"The weight will reduce range."

"And I think our pilots will appreciate not being shot up during the sortie. Your call, anyway. I think a bit of armour won't affect range too much."

"... I'll think about it."

"Whatcha gonna call it?"

"Hmm... no idea."

"It's fast, right? How about Comet?"

"Suisei? Sounds great."

[Location: Osaka Bay, Japan]

"Mother! I'm home!" Taking off his boots, Yoshida stepped into the small wooden house his family called home, located just along the shores of Osaka Bay.

"Haruki! Gosh, look how thin you are now! Come, I've made some adzuki bean soup. There's a letter for you on the table."

"Alright, mum. Where's Choei?"

"Your younger brother... he went and join the Navy while you were away. Just graduated from the naval academy too."

"Oh? Which ship is he posted to?"

"He wrote back about it... right, Yura, I think it was."

"I see. How come?"

"Said he didn't want to sit around while you went out to protect Japan."

"Never could sit still, that's him... How about dad?"

"Coming back this weekend, last he wrote."

Sitting down at the table, Haruki Yoshida raised an eyebrow at the letter. 'From ... HQ?'

PRIVATE Haruki Yoshida
〒673-0894 Hyōgo-ken,
Akashi-shi,
Minatochō, ２３−8

PVT. Yoshida,

We would like to congratulate you that you have been recommended for the coming batch of cadets at the Imperial Japanese Army Academy. Due to your current enlistment in the Army, you have qualified for direct entry to the Senior Course. Please report to the Senior Course Academy campus at Sagamihara, Kanagawa prefecture, by the following date.

<<Date>>

Regards,
LT. GEN. Yi Un
Commander-in-Chief
Joseon Army

by **The Free Territory of Makhnovia** » Mon Jul 10, 2017 6:03 am

San Dorligo della Valle, Italy,

San Dorligo della Valle is idyllic little town located four miles from Trieste, on the turbulent border of the Kingdom of Italy and Socialist Republic of Slovenia. over 70% of population was ethnically Slavic and they had long considered the town (known in their language as simply "Dolina") occupied. Now there were 2000 people on the main square holding the rally in support of Trieste workers. Italian police, uner orders to stand-by until reinforcements from the north arrived, stood anxiously listening to the speeches they hadn't understand and songs sung in the Slovenian language strange to them- according to Badoglio' s strict border politics, most of them were out-of-towners in order to not grow too close to suspicious Slavic population.

Frontier fortifications, imagined by Badoglio were being built here too- the problem was, most of the builders were local Slovenians. And soldiers guarding the border were few and streched far in between...

It happened in an instant. Several mortal shells hit the fortifications on Italian side of the border. Then submachines started singing their song. Police ran towards the border to give provide reinforcements. They encountered huge army moving ahead towards the village, covered by mortar fire. Trucks and armored vehicles that carried them were adorned by Italian tricolora, with dynastic coat of arms suspiciously absent.

it was over in less than an hour. Togliatti's "Garibaldi's Battalion" had crossed the border. Slovenians met Italian communists with flowers and wine. They didn't atay for long to enjoy hospitality- they quickly took care of the wounded in the local infirmary and advanced towards the Trieste, under republican banner.

Belgrade, Socialist Republic of Serbia

Milan Gorkić and Moša Pijade sat in the lobby- restouran of Hotel "Moscow" on the Terazije square. The conversation was grim.

"I don't know if I can do this. " whispered Gorkić. "It is risky."

"Come on Milan" Waved Pijade. "We need a risky move now. by the way i have the telegram right here. It's rational and made to appeal to him."

"He might snub us."

"What's there to snub? He made a great move and we're telling him that. If that is enough to keep them at bay..."

"Let me see the message." Gorkić read under the white electric lights. "Alright, I'll send it.

To: President Marcel Beauchamp
From: Milan Gorkić, President of SFRY

Esteemed president Beauchamp

every time I take a walk through our beautiful Kalemegdan park I pass a monument of Yugoslav- French friendship. The government that raised this monument is no more, but it still stands with its beautiful inscription that reads :Volet ćemo Francusku kao što je ona nas volela" "We will love France like she loved us". And why not- our soldiers died side by side in the Great War, fighting Habsburg imperialism. Many of those soldiers became communists in the meantime, but their hearts still beat stronger when they hear "La Marseillese" because if anything, our nation became more like your glorious Republic in the meantime. Indeed, we charged our Bastilla, overthrew the hated Karađorđević dinasty and proclaimed Free Republics in which people elect their representatives democratically. Yes, democratically, because whatever detractors of socialism may say, opposition parties act freely here.

In that light we praise your decision to grant equal rights to all Frencmen and Frenchwomen wherever they lived. We have full understanding for your struggles because we stand in support of every democratic movement, like this that had erupted in Trieste, for instance. Surely, we would like our nations to stand together one more time, and to help brave people of Trieste enact their popular will, to break chains of the feudal dinasty and build new Republic, another lighthouse of freedom, equality and fraternity in Europe.

If you have some different thoughts about Trieste situation, we are happy to invite you to Belgrade to discuss things as leaders of two democracies.

Happy Bastille Day
Milan Gorkić

by **Kievan Rus Republic** » Mon Jul 10, 2017 7:00 am

De Grote Dominie van Oost-Indië

Volksraad
Batavia
Oost-Indies

September 2nd 1938

Queen's Speech

It was a busy day in the Volksraad building, now modified to fit a proper Dutch Parliament instead of the colonial one. The Dutch Government-in-Exile has just quite recently managed to reconstruct and recollect itself from fleeing the homeland after they lost their country to the Reds and Soviets a year ago. But with their exiles and regroups, comes a sense of unfounded patriotism that the kingdom has never seen after the end of the Dutch Golden Era. Long has gone the divide of the triumvirate of ideologies that ruled and locked the politics of the Kingdom's parliament, Protestantism, Roman Catholicism and Socialism, with the last one now tainted forever with the betrayal of the Soviets to the rightful monarchy government. Instead, now there's some sort unity in the air, whether its coming from the liberal or the conservative, both are driven by the sense of Revanchism to return back home. Don't get it wrong, Batavia tropical beach may be a beautiful spectacle to look at, but for the exiles, nothing beat the views of polders back home.

The elected Prime Minister, Armando Nouwen, shares the same revanchism feeling as his compatriots. Like all member of the parliament, he knew that this situation needs to be as temporary and return to normal as fast as possible. This is obvious. But how long and how will they do it, well that's when the parliament politic is divided once again. The so-called liberals suggest that they exploit East Indies natural riches and Industrialize first, with the efficiency of capitalism and web of alliance with other free countries of the world, then only reclaim back home when they sure they are ready to beat back Soviet's regime and possible intervention of the UESR. The Conservative, on the other hand, would prefer to outright mobilize the Great Dominion economy and do whatever it takes toward reclaiming the homeland. Though Armando is coming from the Conservative, he can see the reason to consider Liberal wanted to see the economic and diplomatic factor sorted out first, besides, there are other things to consider.

The Natives. They are mixed bunch of ethnic-religious people, different in not just physical stature (though all of them are shorter, and still in every way inferior to the white people) but also language, custom, and everything else. Until recently, they are only united by one thing, dissatisfaction with Dutch rule and keen interest to wage useless rebellion again and again. Worryingly however, they have now wage their independence streak through more formal means. Local intellectuals have now mutter for "Indonesia" to be an nation-state, and in some way, they get what they wanted by the creation of the Great Dominion. If their rebellious streak is to be relied on however, Armando is sure that the natives will stop at nothing but true independence from the crown. The exiles arrival have calmed down them a bit for now, either from intimidation or respect for it coming to their far-flung islands. But with industrialization agenda the two party had, he is sure that conflict and ramification will be had. But nothing, especially not the natives, will stop him to get back to his own soil, and if few resist his ways, he is more than prepared to send them to god, for this is a crusade. A Crusade against traitors that had risen up and steal his home.

But enough of that for now. Armando, along with his conservatives colleagues take a seat in the right wing of the Volksraad. It's the first meeting of the parliament after the exile so far so it's just, as protocol suggested, a ceremonial queen speech. But considering the situation, her speech and tacit support today may very well be the defining factor of the political situation in the Parliament for until they have returned back home. Both sides leans in when she's speak, and after she's done, Armando can't help but feeling satisfied that the queen is as revanchist as her subjects and leaning toward his party agenda, though slightly disappointed she have yet fully taken side to her conviction.

Queen Wilhelmina of The Netherlands

"Esteemed Gentlemen, loyal servants of the Kingdom of the Netherlands, and her Gemenebest," She begins with in her high, soft-spoken voice, "Dark days has befall upon our beloved Kingdom. What was once just a period of economic hardships have been exploited by the ruthless, greedy soviets, agitating our worker and turned it into act of despicable betrayal of the Dutch people to their own nation. As you may well know, violence stalks the street that day, and in the midst of the chaos, we can do nothing but flee for our life. But now we are here, in the safe embrace of our loyal subjects which we have educated our Dutch values of freedom and democracy, ready to serve our nation once more in her time of direst needs.It is your daunting task to meet this expectation, to see us come back home to our rightful soil and fight the puppet rebellious regime that has been propped for nothing but to oppress our brothers and sisters with foreign, godless Bolshevik views."

"We are talking millions, Esteemed Gentlemen. Millions of our people are going to see nothing but the boot and heel of the Soviet regime when they are looking up for hope and humanity. Thousands will lost their freedom to act freely as rightfully as they wanted to like the god intended. Yet we still sit and do nothing to free them and reclaim back our kingdom. The world are beginning to arm themselves in preparation of what is coming, gentlemen. The Free world are right now in the very motion to began the rightful crusade against what will be forever known as tyranny. It is your responsibility to see the Dutch nation and her subjects, to support this effort far and wide, for our liberation is dependent on the whole world cooperation to fight the red menace," she pauses for breath, briefly looking away from her script and to her audience.

"Esteemed Gentlemen!," suddenly she shouted, "The Zeeland, Holland, Utrecht, and all corner of the Netherlands are waiting for us to liberate them from the yoke of the reds. The Era of Betrayal are over, I declare this right now. We are the Lion, that was once in slumber and now woken up by the call of her nation. Let the world now see how the Orange Lion roar and the red menace cower. We will come back home, this I will uphold!"

Bandar Lampoeng
Oost-Indies

September 2nd 1938

Public Works

Workers pose at the site of a railway tunnel
under construction in the mountains of Sumatra,
one of many public works commenced
by the government after going into exile

"And here you are, Herr Westerhoff. Perfect timing. How is the travel here from Batavia?"

"Terrible. Serang proved to be hell upon this earth, I dont think even Borneo Jungle is that hot and humid at the same time."

"Hahaha," His partner laughed before patting Westerhoff's back, "Well that's equator weather for you. From Suriname to here in Sumatra, it's all hell all the same for us."

Westerhoff simply nodded to his colleagues comment and wave him away. It's true that the weather here is starkly different from that back in the homeland. The sun is shining practically every day for a year, only slightly disturbed when monsoon season came along. Months after exile didn't ease or make him more adapted to the climate, though it was slightly bearable with the fact that the government literally pouring money to people like him, a well-established entrepreneur, to start working on a lot of public works project. His, in particular, was a trans-sumatran railway project, from Bandar Lampoeng to Palembang, that's why he's bothering to come all the way here to supervise things. But he knows that he is but a mere one person in one of business syndicates that is now on the government payroll to build these public works. The Monarchy and the Parliament had already agreed to dump their coffers to build miles and miles of railway and roads all across the isles, especially on Java where it is most populated.

Sometime it make him think if It is truly necessary. Sure the condition of the isles were backward if compared with homeland back in Europe, and the exiles were frantic to do everything to prepare the invasion back home. But considering the size of the isles, it would be monstrous to even think that they could industrialize the whole thing in less than 5 years. Beside before even going into exile, the government already invested heavily in a railroad network until they reach the pretty number of 1,900 in 1900, as well as telegraph lines. It's better, he thinks, if the government would be focused on making more and upgrading more ports, churning a lot of ships, and load tons of natives to be dumped fighting in the coast of Utrecht or something, if they truly wanna go home as fast as they possibly could.

"So tell me, how things going on here?" Westerhoff asked, finally done with his contemplation.

"Honestly? Not bad, not bad at all. Terrain is harsh due to jungle and mountain, but that's why we hired the experts from French Indochina. A lot of our men bomb the mountain day and night, and if we can be a little harsher, we may get this done late this year, or even earlier. Depend on the weather."

"That fast?"

"Yep, a lot of bodies to work on. It's not like they can refuse or anything as well. How do you think Anyer-Panarukan roadways was built? 1000 km in just a year! These people may be not white but given the right treatment and they are almost as productive as us. We can ask KNIL to guard for possible rebellion, I bet they don't mind sending us 100 people or so. Just fill the right pocket, Westerhoff."

"I see, well keep up the good work. I'll work on the paperwork back in the hotel."

"Sure thing, partner."

by **The Traansval** » Mon Jul 10, 2017 9:04 am

Ministry for War
Dublin
Ireland

August 30th, 1938

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DID YOU DO AIKEN!"

The shout blasted its way into the eardrums of all those within a two mile radius, and shocked the man sitting behind his oak desk to look up at the very, VERY angry face of the Taoisigh of Ireland, Eamon De Valera. The man in question, whose name had just be shouted for the world to hear, was Frank Aiken, Minister for War. The Taoisigh was standing his both his hands on the desk, resting his weight on it. Behind him was the entire cabinent of Ministers that made up the Irish Government, the only exception being the President who was currently meeting with allied ambassadors at a dinner.

The clack of a typewriter sounded as Aiken stopped typing, and intead turned to face the full brunt of the wrath of De Valera. The man was known as one of the most stubborn men in Ireland, and he was incredibly invested in maintaing living conditions for the Irish. He was also widely opposed to the Military, viewing it as only for Ireland defense. In fact he was one of the most vocal of those who opposed changing the name from the Irish Defense Forces to Irish Armed Forces. Now, it seemed he had found something new to harp on Aiken for.

"If you wish to yell at me Edmond, atleast tell me why you've decided to round up your posse to come here"

The mention of his old name, his name when he'd fought in the Revolution took him back for a moment, cooling his notoriously hot temper. He motioned for the Minister for Finance, Seán MacEntee, to step forward. He was a middle aged man and he looked exactly the part of a Accountant and Lawyer, and in his arm was a stack of folders with big stamps on them, stamps with the seal of the Irish Government and a couple with that of the Armed Forces. De Valera produced from this a handful of folders, all with four marks; that of the Irish Government, the Armed Forces, the Ministry for Finance, and the Ministry for War.

"These are all records on hand of purchases organized by the Ministry, for the Armed Forces. It seems that in little under Six months time, you've seemed to buy enough equipment to arm a second army! I mean look at this, hundreds of American Tanks and Artillery Guns, whole brand new American Machine Guns, and Airplanes from almost every fucking nation on the planet! Not to mention this ridiculous idea of converting rifles into fully automatic weapons! Its costing us money Aiken!"

"Eamon, when i was appointed i was given the task of maintaining an Effective Irish Fighting Forces for the Defense of Ireland and its ideals."

"Then why the hell did you send Irishmen to Munich!"

"That wasn't me Eamon, that was Thomas."

"YOU signed off on it, gave it your approval!"

"Yes Eamon, and thats because we can't just sit over here and pretend that nothing will touch us. Thats what they did back when the Normans came over, and thats what will happen again! Our men are in Munich because this time, Ireland isn't going to sit and wait for the enemy to come, we're going to fight them on every piece of land we can to defend not only our land, but the very way of life that we have been living for years now!"

The room was silent then, as De Valera and AIken both took the time to clam themselves. Irish politics tended to get a little rowdy.

"Frank, there is a difference between ensuring our men are equipped, and what your doing right now."

"What do you mean Eamon, i'm ensuring our men have proper Arms and equipment, along with proper Armored and Airsupport!"

"Yes well theres just one big fat fucking problem Frank, we can't afford it! And you know it!"

The ministers looked at De Valera and then at Aiken, this was news to them. Aiken just put his head in his hand as De Valera continued.

"You've surpassed the Military Budget."

The room fell silent as the slow realization of De Valera's words came into effect. The Ministry for War, in all its spending, had exceeded the Budget that had been given to it. After a few moments, outrage erupted in the small group.

"What!"

"You've got to be joking!"

"Are you insane man?"

"How the hell did you even do it?"

That last statement came from the Minister for Agriculture, while the Minister for Finance just stood back, having been the first one to discover this. Aiken brought his back up to look at the men, a blank look on his face.

"I started issuing Government Bonds to pay for it"

The room just erupted into more shouts and upheavel, while De Valera just sat with his head in his hands as he tought on this disastor. He stood up, silencing the room, and looked Aiken in the eyes, boring into his sole.

"I'll have your head for this Aiken..."

He turned on his heel and walked out of the room, followed by the Ministers. Leaving Aiken to sit and consider his position in the Irish Government, and if he'd even have it come tomorrow.

by **Waztaskio** » Mon Jul 10, 2017 5:40 pm

Secretary of Defense Stimson walking with General Marshall into his Pentagon Office.

The Pentagon - Arlington, September 3rd 1938

The Pentagon was a rather strange building, that sat in Arlington County Virginia overlooking the Potomac River around Washington D.C. The building, was to serve as the center of all the branches of the US Military. The idea was proposed towards the end of 1934 a few months after the establishment of the Department of Defense for a new building that was not as outstretched as the temporary Department of War buildings spread out around Foggy Bottom. Stimson personally began to advocate for this, until Roosevelt officially began to request for the United States Congress to begin to host hearings on the topic during the summer of 1935. The hearings lasted a few months, before Congress officially authorized the construction which took two and a half years to complete, completed only a few months ago. Offices from the old War Department were still being moved into the new building, but for all purposes the building was fully equipped and ready to handle the task of war-time management if worse came to worse. Chief of Staff of the Army General George Marshall walked down the halls of the building with Secretary of Defense Henry Stimson, discussing plans for a possible increase in the amount of army personnel the military had.

As the two walked, the more in depth the conversation got. Marshall spoke about the Great Depression, and how the war effort could be mobilized rather quickly if they began discussions with large business owners such as Henry Ford and Henry J. Kaiser, to make plans for a mass increase of labor force if required. Stimson however, was rather silent. Although he agreed with the general, he felt directly entering negotiations with far leaning political industrialist in a time he deemed preemptive, would be inappropriate. He then began to calmly advise for plans to be designed for the mass industrialization of the United States within the walls of the Pentagon, only to be implemented on his orders. As the men finally came up to his office, he was greeted by his personal secretary who informed the two that Admiral William Harrison Standley was sitting inside awaiting the Secretary of Defense on an important matter. General Marshall politely excused himself, as the secretary made his way inside.

"Mr. Secretary. I'm sorry for this sudden barging." The admiral said, as Stimson smiled and waved his comments off. "Nonsense, admiral. You're the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. Whatever you have to say, must be important to matters of National Security." The admiral nodded, as the secretary proceeded to take a seat at his desk as the admiral also proceeded to take his seat. Stimson noted that the admiral had in his possession a small envelope with the presidential seal, which would surely warrant importance. As Stimson studied both the envelope and the admiral, he managed to ascertain that he was about to be given a special request possibly from the president himself. "Mr. Secretary, the President has felt the need to investigate other forms of weaponry in order to give us an edge over the communist. He has submitted a list of names of personnel, which he wishes for us to interview in regards to recent scientific advances."

Stimson was then handed the envelope, to which he began to tear it open and look through the names. The names didn't seem to ring a bell, and began to confuse him. "Admiral, what is the purpose of these names?" Stimson continued looking through them as the admiral began to explain they were a list of scientist currently residing in the United States who's ideas could give the United States an edge over their enemies. As the admiral explained, Stimson began to get curious. How was this list compiled? Did this have to do with reports of NKVD agents killing scientist Nikola Tesla last month? Are these a list of possible defectors to the communist cause residing in America? The questions began to stack on the secretaries mind, as the admiral continued to explain their importance. "Mr. Secretary, are you listening?" The secretary, slowly looked up from the paper as he gave a faint nod. "Yes, admiral. I'm just in my thoughts." The admiral nodded, "Well, I'm going to need your approval to begin contacting them sir. And if they agree to the proposals we intend to offer them, we will need to procure new facilities for these projects."

And there it was. Another request from the Department of Defense to the United States Congress, just waiting to be filed in the name of National Defense. The thought wasn't stomach churning, but Stimson began to feel like much of the efforts to protect america would begin to take over the efforts to provide americans with a way out of the depression to live as americans do. As Secretary of Defense, it was his job to protect the nation from threats both foreign and domestic. However, one must be careful not to confuse defense with paranoia. Those days ended back during the days of President Curtis, and despite his approval of these actions back then, today was a new day and time for a new strategy. A winning strategy, and not a temporary band aid. Stimson continued to look at the paper as he tapped his fingers on the top of the page before giving a nod. "Have some agents get in contact with these individuals, and see if they would be willing to accept official government employment. But keep this on the wraps, got it admiral?" The admiral began to get up, as he nodded. "Yes, sir. Thank you for your approval." And with those words, the admiral was dismissed.

Secretary of State Cordell Hull reviewing diplomatic reports in his office.

The Harry S Truman Building - Washington D.C., September 3rd 1938

Secretary of State Cordell Hull sat inside his office, taking a few sips of his coffee as he went over the reports of the day, specifically regarding reports in the far-east of possible hostilities between the UESR and China, along with maybe Japan. These reports were enough to request an in person meeting with Nelson T. Johnson, the United States Ambassador to China to begin to discuss options. Just recently Hull was informed by his personal secretary that the ambassador had landed and was on his way here, to which Hull began to prepare his list of questions. He had just managed to finish by the time the ambassador had arrived to which he greeted with a handshake.

"Mr. Secretary, what a pleasure it is to meet with you." Johnson said, as the secretary guided him to a seat. "Mr. Ambassador, it is nice to meet with you two. We have much to discuss in regards to the situation in the far-east." Johnson knew what the secretary was referring to. The recent skirmishes on the border of the UESR and Northern China, was looking a little dangerous. And false moves could possibly lead to a full blown out war. "Yes, Mr. Secretary. I believe I understand why." For the next few hours, Secretary Hull and Ambassador Johnson began to discuss the situation in the far-east with the ambassador recommending that the United States begin the buildup of a military force in the Philippines who could act as a proxy in United States assistance to China, with Hull advocating direct aid to the Chinese in some fashion that showed they actively stood with them. Eventually, a compromise was reached. Secretary Hull was going to arrange a meeting with the leader of China Chiang, and the Emperor of Japan, or at least an ambassador by these two to pledge appropriate support and show that the United States was on board with their struggles. A diplomatic message was soon sent to the foreign ministries of both.

Code: Select all: TO: Foreign Ministries of China and Japan FROM: United States Department of State ENCRYPTION: Secret (HIGH) Dear (Insert China or Japan), I am Secretary of State Cordell Hull of the United States. In regards to matters in the far-east, the United States would like to emphasize it's commitment to the containment of communism, and insist that governments that actively fight against the horde of the red menace will have appropriate equipment and support. In response to the recent developments on the border in China, the United States Government would like to organize a sit down between the leaders of Japan and China, with officials of the United States to discuss far-east policy of how we can be of help. Please respond as soon as possible. If a meeting is accepted, we will be meeting in the Philippines in the City of Manila, on September 30th, of this year. Hope we can all attend. Kind Regards, Secretary of State Cordell Hull

Minor Events:

Director of the FBI J. Edgar Hoover testifies to the House Committee on Un-American Activities, declaring the threat of a communist takeover to be rising, citing events in New York with the death of Nikola Tesla. Renewed calls for a Communist Control Act began to be recommended by the Committee after the testimony.
Trial for the shooter of President Herbert Hoover finally comes to an end, with a verdict of guilty. Sentenced to a federal execution on September 10th. The Communist Party of America stages minor protest against the decision, stating "Justice in the hands of Corporations, isn't Justice for anyone."
Upton Sinclair, Norman Thomas, Earl Browder officially announce a merger of all socialist and communist parties in America, forming the official Democratic Socialist Party of America (DSPA). The first Party Congress is to be held in October, in Chicago.

by **Kievan Rus Republic** » Tue Jul 11, 2017 6:11 am

De Grote Dominie van Oost-Indië

Governor-General's Palace
Batavia
Oost-Indies

September 6th 1938

Mad Scramble

A tense air hung in the Governor-General's palace, used temporarily as the office of the government-in-exile, as the result of the first session of the parliament finally came out. With the condition of the Kingdom in its bleakest days, the Queen and the parliament has agreed that the first session of this year parliament must be about how the budget of war industry will be coming along, and sequentially, how the industrial progress of the Grand Dominion will be shaped up to be. The Conservative, such like the Prime Minister Armando Nouwen, prefer total mobilization of the Indie economy. Exploiting the richness of the dominion he thought, will be the upmost importance for the time being and heavy state capitalism have to be put in place so that the military-industrial complex will be coming nicely paid by government backed civilian industry's profit, which to be fair, was already huge even before the existence of any industrialization whatsoever. Rubber for one, was absolute detrimental and in huge demand as the world began to, in unspoken agreement, militarize for the coming conflict between the two giants ideology, no matter when it will actually happen. Armando plan was originally to exploit this fact and create a strong rubber based civilian industrial complex, with demand and dependency assured, profit is guaranteed and can be used to pay both military industry and debts of earlier investment.

But the liberals, for some reason, thought that they have better ideas that can protect "dutch values" at the same time. Damn leeches, the very nation of the Dutch is in peril and all they were cornered is still with their own pockets. Fearing big intervention by the government could affect their monopoly over rubber market and the prices of agricultural goods exports of the indie, which they also monopolize, they instead propose an interventionist policy to be used to industrialize the Indie. They cite the success of historical 750 million guilders foreign-investment back before they are going into exile to be prove that their policy is the more tested one, bringing prosperity to the Isles, especially in Java, without burning the coffer of the government and infringing on the Dutch "Merchant and Democratic values, which we the exiles are stood upon." What a load of utter bullshit, they aren't even the exiles, most of the liberals are Dutch industrialist that already been here long before exile, and for a small portion that is, they are already on the payroll of these traitors.

Unfortunately though, the result of 5 days parliamentary session has already been casted out, and Armando doesn't like it one bit. Despite the conservative majority in parliament, somehow, SOMEHOW the liberal bill pass through. Armando didn't thought his first job to be the prime minister are to be sailed with ships full of traitorous greedy bastards, concerned only with their pockets like the liberal fools and not with fervor needed to make sure the people that they represented not only to be back home, but to fight the oppression of the back-stabber reds that currently having field day infringing of the freedom of the dutch people.

Andre van Esveld (seen here with his sons),
are one of the Dutch nationals
who has went to the indies long before the exiles.
He has created fortune trading in rubber plantation
as well as coconut produces,
and become one of the most hard-line Liberal MP
to be against state capitalism policy
proposed by the conservatives.

"Tell me, my dear friend, Herr Tuerlings," Armando called with a voice soothing with a cold rage to the man standing in front of him, which also happens to be the Minister of Industry, "Tell me how in the God's gracious name the Liberal get their bill passed instead, despite we're having a majority?! Where is our Whips? Our MPs? DOES THOSE IDIOTS FORGET WHAT LOYALTY DOES AFTER THEY ARE EXILED?!"

Tuerlings however, remains stoic in front of Armando rage. The stiff upper lip attitude that comes from his half-British heritage clearly showing itself, and that is enough to make the Prime Minister of the Kingdom of the Netherlands to once again slumped to his chair, feeling slightly foolish to have lost his temper.

"I'm sorry, Tuerlings. I didn't mean to yell, the whole thing is just so idiotic to the point that it boiled my blood whenever I thought about it. I meant, we have yet to abandon our parliamentary system during our exile, and luckily our months that is wasted on the sea and regrouping was during recess. I did not expect our MPs to forget how the whole thing is done."

"Of course, Herr Nouwen. We're all surprised by this turn of event. Though this is no time to dwell on loss and divide of politics, I presume there's a reason you have called me here?"

"Yes, of course. This is what I wanted you to do, as the Minister of Industry, I want you to, along with your aides, assistant, and whoever else that you employ to go on tour to promote investing here, especially neighbors like Japan, France, Britain, or Australia. Promote the possibility of big market and pool of workforce of the Indies to arm ourselves. I would start campaigning here inside the country myself, but I don't think we have many business syndicates and entrepreneur left to bother with yet another project after the public works, at least without sacrificing efficiency and loss of the native's life...that's bad PR. Scramble for it, Herr Tuerlings, I want a lot of investment."

"I see, I will work on it and leave immediately, anything else?"

"Yes, cooperate with the Minister of Commerce regarding the bureaucratic red tape, I want them to have an easy time entering this market. But other than that, none. Now if you excuse me, I will have to purge some of the rats in my ships."

Solok
Oost-Indies

September 7th 1938

Javan Caesar

Gerardus Johannes Berenschot,
the only KNIL commander of Indie
descent in the
Great Dominion.

Solok is an interesting place, even by the Oost-Indie standard, located close to the raging river of Solok and the valley of the ever problematic and temperamental Merapi volcano, Solok has for centuries blossomed into one epicenter of Javan culture and heritage, rivaled only by its historical rival Sultanate Tjogtjakarta. Under the helmet of its wise protectorate king, Pakubuwana X, the place eagerly accepting civilization and modernity of the west, progressing as well as its Dutch master even after her exile and became the model colony of her, much to the exiles pride and joy. Why, with the existence of poor housings, schools, as well as zoo and great market, it is can be said that the Dutch has done nothing but great job to explore the possibility of her people and bringing it out of barbarity and backward traditions that plagued the place before its arrival. White man burden is, for now, have been fulfilled on Solok

However its prosperity is not the reason why General G.J Berenschot and his army are stationed there. The King, as wise as he is, is politically threatening and dangerous to the dominance of the Dutch rule and Dominion over his reign. Stability and prosperity that is currently happening there has turned into some sort of channel for cult of personality to be created in the mind of the native people of Java, and in light of the condition of the government-in-exiles, such political threat like that cannot be allowed to be existed or at least without being scrutinized to minimize conflict. The fact that he is now muttered to be the Kaisar tanah Jawa (Javan Caesar) by some natives is absolutely horrify the military rankings of both the Dominion and the Kingdom, especially with the destruction and cost of Java war and Padri war still fresh in memory. Eliminating him or pitting him against his political enemies is unfortunately impossible, the man position now is too high to be challenged and his loss would only left a political vacuum that is too big to be controlled. So for now, just to intimidate him and reminding him where he is truly belong, the military deemed it necessary to send almost 30.000 man of actually armed KNIL army with its best officer to lead them straight into the heart of his "empire". The government won't take any chances for a traitor to plunge a knife on her back, not anymore.

Portrait of Pakubuwono X,
The Javan Caesar, wearing the
uniform of a KNIL major-general.

G.J Berenschot however, knows better, though he cannot exactly disobeyed his order. The King cannot do anything, that he knew from his past service to his empire. Javan king are less inclined to openly revolt because ingrained in all of their bloodline the nature of feudal pride and sloth. They are simply too proud and lazy to lost their title and privileges, even if they are the most brilliant and forward-thinking man the land has ever saw. Padri and Javan war were a mistake by the Dutch by infringing said title and privileges, making them both angry and have nothing to lose. And when the Javan princes and petty kings are agitated, hoards of their subjects will come to their monarch war cry like swarm of bees that has been provoked. They sting, and they die...en masse. It's different case if it were Acehnese, religious fervor and backward tradition of theirs do not care about greed or pride of positions, their petty kings will charge if they provoked by the slighest poke. That's why they have been free for so long, and eventually have to be put down, albeit through bloody way and just barely leashed. There's nothing worse than uncivilized kingdoms that does not care about proper conduct of the world.

What he's discerned now instead is political move of the natives. Unfortunately for the Dutch, the natives modernization and civilization progress meant that some of them now are freed from the feudalism that choke the progress of the Indies. Instead, they are now contaminated with self-determination to rule, mass propaganda, and party politics to achieve the ends of their rebellion streak, total independence. Things like Algemeene Studieclub, National Party of Indonesia, Jong Java and the rest of it were proof that Indies native are adapting to modern terrorism and subversion, letting go ethnocentric tendency for nationalistic struggle. Yet there's no real effort to clamp down these opposition by the Kingdom even now. Perhaps it was to avoid open rebellion, perhaps. But as a general and a diplomat, letting something like this to be free is like letting wound to be infected, it is only going to get worse. And when that time come, when the infection finally take root on the body and start rotting it away, Javanese Caesar would not be petty kings and princes, or even great priest. It would be a modern, civilized, patriotic Stateman.

... and hoards of his subjects will come to their leader war cry like swarm of bees that has been provoked. They sting, and they die....en masse, as heroes of a new nation.

Other Events

Soekarno, a known leftist-separatist individual, has escaped his banishment in Flores. Police and KNIL personnel are now mobilized to find him.
In light of the recent bill, the government now looking to buy 10.000 piece of M95 Mannlicher Bolt from various producers for the preparation of the upcoming invasion back home. Unclear whether production of said weapons will be started in the Great Dominion.
Due to pressure from local intellectual, Parindra, Gerindo, and Gapi, are to be allowed to be present in the next parliament season and will have bigger voice in Volksraad of their own.

by **The Traansval** » Tue Jul 11, 2017 11:02 am

Miles behind the Italo-Yugoslavian Border
Italian Slovenia/Croatia Territory
Italy

August 30th, 1938

"5 Minutes to the Drop Zone!!"

A small red light turned on as the occupants of the Belladonna stood up in the cramped interior the the Avro Anson. Ceannaire John Anders took the clip off his chest and clicked it onto the line running down the length of the airplane. He stood in a line with the rest of the men, his stomach suddenly weighting a thousand pounds as the dreadful realization over came him that this was for real. He'd of course practice jumped numerous times, but this would be the first drop into a combat zone...

He looked out the window to his right, and saw the other Four Avro Anson's which were flying in formation, protected by two FFSV 22's. Eighty Two men in total, an entire Cavalry Scout Company was being dropped over Italian Soil. Why you may ask? Well its quit simple, the fucking Yugoslavians....

Now of course no one could pin them on this, such with no actual evidence, but it was pretty common knowledge among the few who by now knew of this incident that it was perpetrated by the Yugoslavians. Hours earlier, a report had come in from one Italian Officer, Mario or some shit. Apparently, he'd been the Garrison of some Italian Border town, and he'd taken his men out of the town for "Drills", although knowing the Italians it probably just to go to the whore house and pick up some liquor from the nearest large town. Anyway, "Mario" had gotten a runner from the town he was supposed to protect, the runner telling him that the town was being attacked by an Army of Italians, Slovenians and Croats, who had raised the Red Banner over the town. Mario then of course passed word up the chain of command via a Telegram to his superiors, before then setting off himself back to the town he was to garrison.

Well, the Italians were short handed, and thus they'd called for their allies to send support. However, the only allied troops close enough were the Irish in Munich. The telegram from the Italians reached Ghinearál O'Leary, who decided to sign off on the use of Five Avro Ansons and Two FFVS 22 airplanes to transport the Easy Company, Cavalry Scouts, to Italy and to help their pizza making allies.

"Two Minutes to Drop Zone! Gear Check!"

Each man quickly checked their gear before they then checked the gear of the man in front of them. The doorman called out "Sound off Gear Check", and down the line they began to yell, sounding off that the gear of the man in front of them was sound and ready. Anders heard the man behind him, his old friend Henry Johnson, call out "EIGHT OK!". John Anders gave the man in front of him one more quick pass before yelling out "SEVEN OK!", and it continued down the line until the last man was deemed "OK!".

The bright sun of the Mediterranean that had first greeted them had down dimmed as it just winked from the horizon. The air around them buzzed with the sound of airplane engines. The doorman pulled out his map, and pointed to a large red circle on it.

"Remember, after you drop, make your way to the rendezvous point, which is marked on all your maps!"

The green hills of the Italian Countryside rolled beneath them as the planes slowed their speed. Then it happened, the red light turned green and the door man shouted "GO! GO! GO!'

The line of men began to surge forward, as men reached the door and jumped out, taking the plunge into the skies over Italy. The line moved forward until finally it was Anders turn. He braced himself and jumped out of the door, feeling the solid ground beneath him leave him as he then plummited through the air, his stomach rising into his throat. Finally he felt the tug and then the jerk of his chute deploying, and finally the sensation of floating as he drifted down towards the Italian Soil.

His knees buckled as he hit the ground, his chute dragging him before he was able to get his feet on the ground. Digging his heels in, he stopped the chute and began to roll up the silk pouch. He unbuckled the folding aluminum frame bicycle on his back, moving the parts around and inserting a few steel pins before sitting in front of him was his Bicycle. He took his No.3 Rifle out of its pack near his waist and put it in the holster on his bicycle. He checked the straps on his pack before loosening the holster holding his M22 Revolver. With all his gear checked and good, he swung his leg over and pulled out his map and compass. Muttering to himself as he tried to find the way to the RP.

"Hmm... If i'm here, no i can't be here cause... Where the fuck am i ?"

"Your on my farm"

A man armed with a double barrel shotgun made his prescense known to Anders, who quickly turned around and dismounted his bicycle, his hands up in the air. Now that Anders was facing the man, he noticed a farm house meters away, where a mother and two children were huddled in the doorway while the oldest son was stood a bit behind his father, a hunting rifle in his hand.

"Who are you! Communist?!"

"No, i'm Irish."

The answer seemed to only infuriate the man, who raised his shotgun further. He shouted something in Italian, before switching back to English.

"IRISH! Do you take me for a fool! Irish, in Venezia! Drop that revolver, i'll fetch a good bounty for you Commie!"

Curses through Anders mind; this man thought he was a Communist invader. A flash of memory flew through his head; back at Base they'd been issued papers given to them by the Italians, it was a slip of paper in Italian with the Italian Army seal which explained who they were and to give them Quarter. He had his in his top pocket, which he reached for. The man obvious took this as reaching for a gun, and raised the shotgun to his shoulder and pulled the trigger.

Click

The Italian man looked in wonder at the shotgun in his hand, before cursing in Italian. Anders stood stock still, his hand in his inner vest pocket.

"Papers! I have papers!"

This intrigued the man, who put down the now defunct shotgun, although his oldest still stood with his rifle trained on Anders head. He slowly, and i mean slowly, pulled out the folded slip of paper, and opened it to present to the man. From his distance, he could see the seal of the Army, and he moved forward to snatch it out of his hand. He read it over, once and then again, before laughing. He turned back to his son, telling him something in Italian which Anders took to be something along the lines of "Put the gun down", which he did, before showing his son the paper. The two laughed a bit more, confusing Anders.

"IRISH! Irish, in Venezia!

John stood in confusion a bit more before the two men calmed down, the old farmer sending his son back to his obviously relieved wife along with the shotgun. He moved closer to Anders, and took his hand in his to shake quite violently.

"My apologies, my apologies Irishman. Would you like anything, some bread or soup?"

Well this was quite a reversal, just minutes ago this man who now offered Anders food and quarters had a gun pointed at his head. As much as a hot meal appealed to Anders, he really did need to get on his way to the Rendezvous point. A idea flashed through his mind.

"Uhh No, uh sig-nor-eh, but if you could, tell me which way to go to get to this place?

He produced the map for the man to see, and pointed at the big red dot that was the Rendezvous Point. The man took the map from his hand, and squinted as he attempted to read the print, obviously having to take his time due to the names being in English. After a moment, he gave an almost "A-ha" when he obviously made out the names, and handed the map back to Anders.

"If you take the Dirt Road from our house, you'll eventually get to a road. Follow that road due East and you'll eventually get to this place."

Stuffing the map back into his rucksack, he turned back to his bicycle. Mounting it, he gave one last wave to the man and his family and thanking them for their help, before pushing off and rode off on the dirt road that seemed to be the only link between their Homestead and the outside world. He began to peddle hard, picking up speed before eventually slowing and taking an even constant rate, just as he'd been trained.

The road had been just where the man had said, and Anders followed it just like the man said. Along the way, other men of his unit began to filter with him onto the road, peddling from dirt roads onto the main one, calling greeting to Anders and exchanging stories similar to his. By the time they'd reached the point, Anders had a bicycle train of eight men following him.

The point had been a grassy knoll a couple of miles from the town which had been captured by Partisans, and on it Anders could see both Irishmen and Italian Army troops assembled. The Italians looked quite peeved to be here, and perhaps would rather be out drinking wine and eating pasta...

The Anders and his eight men coasted their way to the bottom of the knoll before dismounting and walking up. They were greeted by a friendly face, Captaen Henry, the commander of Easy Company. The men stood at attention and saluted their commander, who saluted back and called for them to be "At ease".

"Well then Anders, i didn't realize you'd organized yourself a little squad"

"Sir, we'd all just been traveling on the road together."

"Ah relax Anders, lighten up. We're about to see combat for the first time!"

The men with him all looked at each and grinned, obviously just as excited as their commander to finally see combat. Anders wasn't, he'd seen enough of it in the Great War. Either way, he was here to serve for Ireland, and he'd do his duty.

"Whats with the Italians, sir?"

Captaen Henry swiveled his head to the side to observe the assembled men, particularly the Italians.

"Their the Garrison of the town we're assaulting. Apparently they were "Out on Drill" when the Partisans attacked. Their lead by some guy named Mario, the fat pig probably can't even see the battlefield over his gut. But, we're to be attached to them and "Assist" them in "Their" operation. Anyway, get in line you men, your the last of the men we've been expecting. Now we're just waiting on the Italians to give to word for us to move out."

Anders nodded and pushed his Bicycle in front of him as he and the men who'd been following him made their way into the ranks of their fellow soldiers. Cheers were given and greetings exchanged. Anders just picked a spot and stood there, his bicycle to his right and his fellow Irishmen to his left. In front of him, a couple of soldiers stood with a few light 60mm Mortars and a .50 M38 Machine gun. Lewis Gunners were dotted among the men, many of them had managed to set up the bipod on their handle bars for easier carrying, while the rest of the men we're issued with standard arms; No.1 and No.3 Rifles, AR-1's and M38 Submachine guns. Anders still had his No.3 Rifle in its bicycle holster, its barrel shining from its polish and the scope glinting in the sunlight. The rest of the men and their equipment we're in similar states; they were ready. They'd been preparing and training for combat all their military careers. This was their time to shine, this was their moment.

This was their fight, their legacy.

by **The Vekta-Helghast Empire** » Wed Jul 12, 2017 7:58 am

Konigsberg, Prussia.

”Brothers, sisters - men and women of Germany. We’ve been betrayed. Whether you’re a socialist, a capitalist, a self-proclaimed fascist. You have been betrayed. The Bolsheviks in Warsaw have finally shown their true colours - rending the very heart of our nation, seizing it like the imperialists of old. We were told we had nothing to lose but our chains during the revolution - but they brought wool over our eyes. Blinding us to the reality of our fate. Bolsheviks and Poles - they’d been conspiring against us from the very beginning and now they take what is -OURS- by birth-right. We shall not stand idle as these rodents infest our lands. Let us weed out the traitors to Germany, those who would see Prussia’s very identity -ANNIHILATED- as part of their foul imperial quest.

Petition your local governor, petition your local commissars - pull your Polish neighbours from their homes. Let them know that we, -GERMANS- whether we were aristocrats, workers or soldiers in our past lives, shall -NOT- be oppressed by Comrade Polski and his ilk.”

It was at that moment, his speech was cut short - soldiers from the local garrison coming to disperse the large crowd, which stood at around six-thousand strong, three-thousand of them being members of the Kaiser-Korps, and the others merely being bystanders who’d been attracted to the area by the large number of people. The troops fired off a round into the air in hopes of dispersing the crowd, but they only proved to stimulate the speaker, who quickly yelled into his microphone as the troops made their way through the crowd in hopes of detaining him, ”Now you all see the true colours of Comrade Polski, as he sends in the troops to -SILENCE- the -GERMAN VOLK-.”

And that’s all it took. Members of the Kaiser-Korps quickly rushed him off of his make-shift stage of empty crates and barrels, hauling him off into the vast crowd and from sight - suddenly bricks and bottles were hurled at the soldiers as they tried to break up the crowds, warning shots were fired and people began to scatter in every direction. Some Kaiser-Korps members on the edges of the square handing people Prussian flags during the chaos and within thirty minutes, the entire crowd had dispersed - leaving flags, broken bottles and various other bits of litter scattered throughout the square.

Two hours later, at an undisclosed location in Konigsberg, Kaiser-Club 7-1-9-9.

”Well, I must say I think that went rather well. Couldn’t have been much better really, especially when the police showed up - very nice touch. Unplanned, but very nice.” Commented one young official, dousing his cigarette in the ash-tray. Its dull light giving out. The room they’d found themselves in was small, in the basement of one of the city’s many old and decrepit bars, left to rot after the institution of socialism left them with little reason to continue operation.

Heinrich, the speaker for the Ost branch of the Kaiser Korps paced impatiently across the room, stroking his chin with deep contemplation and thought, ”It’s not enough though.” He finally commented, continuing to pace and ponder. ”The people know they’ve been betrayed, they were betrayed by democracy. Betrayed by the communists. Now they need to know that retribution is possible, that despite their immeasurable size and near unending resources, they can be defeated. We need to make them look weak, incapable of quelling unrest. We need t o sweep across this land like the sands of winter, spreading our message and power.. Send a letter to the western lodges, and make sure word gets to our members here. The time for action draws near.”

Warsaw, Poland.

”We’re awaiting the final signal from central Ost command in Konigsberg, but I want to be clear. If that word does come, none of us will be coming out of this alive. We’ll be making the ultimate sacrifice for our nation. For our people. For our culture. We will fire the first shots in a war that will determine the future of Germany, that will determine whether your children grow up in abject poverty under a socialist regime that sees us as filth, whether they’ll be raised on the same streets as we were, in Prussia. Not Poland. Or whether they’ll never know what our homes were like - growing up in Berlin, Hamburg or even beyond that. We’ll send a message, one that the Soviets will never forget.” The man giving the brief speech had been a bit more elderly than the others, perhaps fifty-seven, maybe even older. In his lap sat a bundle of old Stielhandgranate, 1917 edition, bundled together crudely by straps of leather. Their fuses all chained together for ease of access. An old Karabiner 98k resting against his chair. The others, only slightly younger than him, hand-grenades strapped to their utility belts, rifles resting between their legs. They numbered only seven, and resembled nothing but factory workers - all former soldiers of the German Empire in the first world-war, all but one having fought on the Eastern Front, the other having fought in Belgium.

Munich, Germany.

The Kaiser-Korps had rented out a large hall in the center of the new-found Capital of the German Republic for one of its annual meetings, and nearly ten-thousand people had attempted to attend. Following the sudden burst of people and the hall’s tiny capacity, the order was forced to relocate its meeting to the city’s famous Englischer Garden, behind Oberfohring and Schwabing-West. The speaker taking up position in the park’s amphitheater, atop a large makeshift stage of barrels and crates that the order ‘requisitioned’ from nearby storefronts and markets. The crowd quickly swarmed around - people climbed trees to get a view of their leader, people mounted trucks and cars as to see over those in front and some even hacked away the leaves of the trees immediately surrounding the theater as to clear a view. Many waved miniature Imperial German flags or Habsburg flags proudly, some smaller groups singing patriotically - with the group having moved outdoors, they even attracted the attention of many local non-members, who gathered round and tried to get a glimpse of what was going on. Hastily speakers were setup and a microphone positioned and soon the crowds were silenced by a large hush.

”I, Karl von Brandenburg, official chairman of the Kaiser-Club of the Greater German Reich, do hereby proclaim - that in the upcoming elections, I shall be standing for presidency. In addition to this proclamation - a number of officials from the club shall be entering the constituent elections as representatives, to stand in the Republican parliament. We will be running on a platform of severe social and economic reform - and the total restructuring of the government into a constitutional Monarchy, based on the British model. Bringing back our monarch and restoring the natural order. It has become increasingly clear to us and to all of our members - that the Republic has failed. It failed when it allowed the socialists to seize power. It failed when it allowed external powers to rip our nation in two. And it failed when it shunned our traditions and refused to defend our brethren in Prussia.” He paused briefly for a quick recovery of his breath and reached for a sip of water.

”Whether you’re an ethnic German, Pole, Hungarian, Czech, Slovak, regardless of your ethnicity - we all once stood beneath the same banners. We stood and fought bravely and proudly as brothers on the battlefield. We stood surrounded by enemies and yet our resolve and our brotherly union remained unbroken. Yet now, with socialist infiltrators spreading hatred and lies within our ranks - we risk losing this connection. But I shall not sit idly by as these enemies within threaten our bonds. We must come together in these dark times, whether it be all as Germans, or as a union of Germans, Poles, Czechs, Slovaks and beyond - we must stand together. For only as a union, can we destroy this threat that looms over us.” He paused once again, the crowds of his supporters going wild before hastily being silenced once more.

Let us unite brothers, let us make a stand against Bolshevism together, let us see our national boundaries restored and let us rebuild our great nations. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen for your time and God save the Kaiser!” With that final line - the man stepped from the stage, a loud roar filled the air of Munich as people cheered and sang, flags of various nations waving proudly over the park - cheers ringing out for a good quarter of an hour before the crowds finally began to thin and people dispersed.

A few hours later, the Kaiser-Korps’ new-found political headquarters, Munich.

”Good speech, good turn out. I think we’ll do reasonably well in the next election. If we keep this momentum up anyways.” The soft and musical voice came from none other than Erika Straussbeck, the leader of the woman’s branch of the Kaiser Korps and a prominent member of the community, having come from an incredibly wealthy background and having personally supported soup kitchens throughout Germany during the Great War in hopes of at least dampening the effects of the Allied blockade.

”I agree, have the communications department draw up some posters - I want to see the republic coated with our image. We need to be a constant thorn in the side of both the republicans and the socialists. Give them no time to recover and give them no controversies to utilize against us, and if they do - well, papers can be silenced.” Karl responded in turn, taking up a seat at his desk, idly fiddling with his pen, spinning it between his fingers.

iiWiki · by **Vionna-Frankenlisch** » Wed Jul 12, 2017 12:13 pm

Regno d'Italia

Italy
Cadorna Estate

Major Mario Cadorna

Mario lay nonchalantly on his side, his large gut slumped onto the couch below him, on either side of him stood soldiers of the local garrison, one bearing a bottle of 'Cadorna's' (a red wine) and the other grasping a wooden bowl filled with fluffy dough balls. Cadorna looked up from his feasting just as the Irish Captain Henry Johnson arrived, he jumped to his feet just as quickly as the corpulent Italian could and saluted haphazardly.

"Welcome, Irishmen," he greeted, smiling and holding out his arms benevolently, "I am Major Cadorna... Mario Cadorna, this is my vineyard. Please try some wine, it is made from my own grapes and distilled on my own estate, how about some spaghetti or some dough balls?" He wiped his mouth clean of wine and flour and continued with his badgering, "Where are my manners, please come in Captain."

“Thank you, Major Cadorna”

Mario led the Irish Captain through his beautiful garden to the front door of his small villa, a soldier opened the door on cue and they walked through to a lavish atrium decorated with tapestries, Italian flags, paintings and as a centrepiece: a large watercolour portrait of Marshall Luigi Cadorna in his full uniform with his medals and a dark cape. Mario seemed to look upon this decoration proudly.

“So, Captain… I presume you know the situation at hand?”

“Yes yes, we were informed of the situation before the drop. Partisans, both those of Italian, Slovenian and Croatians who wish to spread Communism to Italy, attacked the border town near here. We’ve been sent to assist you in retaking it”

“You are very kind, Captain, but I don’t see how you can help us other than cutting off retreat for these Communist ruffians. My men are quite suited to dealing with them on our own. If only we weren’t… On drill earlier, we’d have caught them early and given them a good thrashing.”

Captaen Johnson quickly hid his contempt of the Italian officer by taking a sip from his canteen.

“Anyway…” Mario continued, “I don’t suppose you have any suggestions relating to plans and such?”

“Well Major Cadorna, i can assure you of the use of our men. Our mobility will allow us to ride ahead of your men, and act as a spearhead to break their lines and allow your Italian troops to fill in that gap in their lines, and destroy them.”

“Hmmm…” Mario mused, scooping up a handful of croutons with his left hand and shovelling them, one by one, into his mouth with the other. He replied after eating, “If you wish to be the forlorn hope then I’ve no quarrel with that but I warn you, these Communists can be tough and quick sons of whores… Hard to pin down too. If your men can move quickly enough and push them out of the streets and buildings then we’ll have them, my men can catch them in the open and cut them down. We’ve been practicing bayonet charges for weeks and I cannot wait to see one in action!”

“Don’t worry Major, we’ll smoke 'em out for you.”

Cadorna smiled, “I think you and I will get on just fine… Now, let me address my men.” He turned to leave but quickly turned and said, "Oh, I almost forgot, I received a message from Major-General Basso's 3rd Division, he will have troops prepared on the border within four hours but his advanced guard will move in to support us, two hundred men with several light tanks."

“Very good, Major, I’ll have my men move out while you get your ready, see you in San Dorligo della Valle”

"Right boys!" Cadorna announced, "Form up, we're going to thrash those Communist bastards! They have eighteen hundred men gathered against them, eighteen hundred guns ranged against them, mortars, machine guns, rifles and mountain artillery! These Communist scum think they can enter your town, that they can pillage your homes and make off with your women, stand with me now and prove them wrong!"

The formed soldiers cheered, throwing their cloth hats in the air and shaking their rifles around. Captain Jonhson and his Irish troops passed by as this went on, ready to make the first strike against the communists while Cadorna's troops arranged themselves into battle formations.

Post coordinated with: The Traansval

by **The Traansval** » Wed Jul 12, 2017 6:35 pm

Just outside San Dorligo della Valle
Italian Slovenia/Croatia Territory
Italy

August 30th, 1938

Through the scope of his Rifle, Anders could spot partisans moving around the town. They walked the streets, rifles held loosly in their hands as they enforced their rule on the town. They seemed to be taking what they could, supplies and such, most likely to prolong a Guerrila war they wanted to wage. They probably expected they'd have time, what with the main Italian force being off on "Drill", they thought they'd have time to raid and leave. Only they didn't factor in one thing.

They didn't factor in the Irish.

"Whats the body count Ceannaire?"

Ceannaire Anders took the rifle from its position on his shoulder to look at his superior.

"Well Captaen, so far i can estimate a battalion of men. Lightly equiped, just standard rifles, submachine guns and such. Although they seem to have some light mortars,
might prove a annoyance on the assault."

The fair Captaen Johnson nodded in thought. A company against a battalion wasn't good odds, but then again they did have reinforcements. The two men sat a top a small knoll off to the side of the road, and just yards away was the town they'd been sent to liberate. At the foot of the knoll, the eighty two men of Easy Company crouched in wait. In addition, Two mortars and their three man crews had all been set up to support the assault.

Each platoon had selected one of their two Marksmen and set them up on the ridge, and Anders was the one chosen from his platoon. The second Marksmen of each platoon was sent out to find other positions, and by now had set themselves up in places like trees or bushes or other hills. Captaen Johnson slid himself down a bit from Anders position, where his Platoon commanders were sitting in wait. From his position, Anders could hear the men talking.

"Right, i just got word from our runner that the Italians are almost here, so we're gonna need to start our assault. Now, i want First through Fourth platoon to leave their bicycles here, i'll get to you in a moment fifth. Anyway, First and Second Platoons are going to assault the town from the Right flank while Third and Fourth take the Left Flank. Meanwhile, Fifth platoon is gonna get its bicycles and circle all the way around and hit them from behind. Now, i want you to move your men into positions, the assault starts when the Mortars go off. Go!

The platoon commanders nodded and moved out to do as ordered. The men dropped their bicycles and began to take positions, with First and Second moving just behind the hill while Third and Fourth crossed the road to the other side, where tall grass would help conceal them. They moved with the uptmost stealth, with one man crossing at a time. It was slow, but it was better than being caught. Fifth Platoon picked up and moved down away from the hill before turning behind a treeline, most likely to mount and cycle off to swoop behind the enemy.

Anders rechecked the safety on his rifle, making sure when he pulled that trigger it would fire. Then he checked the adjustments on the scope, making sure everything was just right. With everything checked and ready, the scope once more came upon his line of sight, and that cross hair inside made its home just above the skull of one of the Partisan Machine Gunners. The bastards had set up a machine gun emplacement with sandbags and barbed wire by the entrance to the road. Laying next to him on the hill, the four other Marksmen all nodded to each other, they knew the gun had to go.

The mortar men sighted, using some tools and wierd gestures to judge the distance to their targets. They were trying their best to not hit any of the houses; they needed to limit civilian casualties. The platoons moved out, men sneaking through the grass or laying flat on their bellies behind dips and inclines; anything to hide from view. The partisans still stood, guarding their victory.

An hour, a full hour passed of them moving men into position. A cycler from Fifth platoon came to tell them that they were in position, and then they waited for him to arrive back with his unit. They waited, they waited for the sun to reach fully below the horizon. They waited for darkness to set, they waited for the guards to set lanterns and torches. The light helped to blind them, made them see what was around them but not what was in front of them. And then the order came through, a messenger was sent to Third and Fourth Platoon, "Move Forward; Silently".

Anders watched with his eyes and the men moved from their positions, over the hill and crouched as they walked through the grass. They made their way forward, creeping at painfully slow rates. Then Captaen Johnson, who had stayed behind to view the attack, nodded his head, and gave the order.

"Fire."

Two loud plonks echoed as the first two mortar rounds were launched. At the zenith of its flight, they exploded, and then a bright flash of light suddenly engulfed the field, lighting up the battlefield, and revealing the mass of Irish Troops in hiding. Ander squeezed the trigger of his rifle, and the head of the main Machine Gunner exploded in a mass of gore as his body fell back onto the pavement. The other marksmen on the hill and hidden in the fields followed, and soon the Machine Gun nest was empty save for one Gun and five bodies.

The shots and the mortar flares alerted the Partisans, who began to file out of the woodwork to see what was going on. They were met with gunfire, as the Irish Platoons began to move in on the town. Fast and Accurate fire from their rifles along with sustained suppressing fire from McMurphy and Lewis guns hitting the surprised and disorientated men hard. Then the mortar shells began to rain down; the statue at the center of town exploded in a rain of water and clay, sending shards all around and into a few of the Partisans.

Another shot range out from the hill as Anders took down another Partisan, cycling the bolt on his rifle and loading in another to the chamber.

Bang, another.
Bang, another.
Bang, another.
Boom, ano- Wait a minute!

Anders looked to the side quickly, to see a huge crater where one of his fellow marksmen once was. The partisans apparently got their mortars up, even though Fifth Platoon was supposed to take those out. Cursing, Anders called to his remaining marksmen to get up. They then moved down the hill, which received another couple of mortar rounds to it. Anders turned to the men, who he suddenly realized were all lower rank than him.

"Move, spread out, find positions to work from and kill any enemies you see"

The men and Anders split up, and began to move out. Anders found a rather stocky tree, and began to climb its limbs. He found a thick branch and perched himself on it. Wrapping the shoulder strap of his rifle around his arm, he took aim only to remember he needed to reload. Opening the bolt, he took out the five cartridged and began to hand load them in. With a full magazine now, he closed the bolt and brought it back to his shoulder, only to see right in front of him the Mortar pits.

Smirking, he took aim and got the chest of the ammo carrier in his sights. He fired, and the mans shoulder was sent into orbit. He fell down to the ground, clutching his shoulder in pain as he cried out. His fellow soldiers took one look at where he got shot and looked off in that direction. Right. At. Anders.

Oh Shit!

Anders quickly struggled to unwrap his arm from the sling, throwing it over his shoulder and moving to get down. But he was too late as a mortar shell exploded right above him, sending him flying off the tree and imbedding shards of wood into him. He landed painfully on his back a good couple of meters from the tree, which was now in ruin. He could feel the pain of all the splinters and wood shafts stuck into his body, right through his cloth uniform and into his skin. It hurt, but he had to get up. Already now he could hear the enemy coming for him, and he needed to get going.

He pulled himself up, sitting up and he could see three soldiers moving towards his general direction. He pulled out his issue revolver, and took aim at the men, firing off shots, killing one and wounding the other. The untouched soldier dropped to his knee and began to fire at Anders as the wounded Sniper began to hobble/run his way to cover. He dropped into a mortar crater, and he checked his revolver cylinder. He ejcted the spent casings and reloaded the cylinder, closing the action and peaking his head over the crater only to drop right back in after getting another shot his way. He hissed as the splinters in his back dug in deep as he lay in the ditch.

He prayed the Italians would get here already. Because if they didn't, he was a dead man...

by **The Free Territory of Makhnovia** » Wed Jul 12, 2017 7:39 pm

San Dorligo della Valle, Italy,

Liutenant Colonel Ludovico Parrota was in a church located just outsed of the village when shooting started. He quickly rushed to the radio operator located in the steeple to recieve reports from his company leaders.

He looked through his binoculars. something seemd wrong. It seemed Italians have only used one company to attack the town. it seemed absurd. Judging by fire, they might have eighty to hundred man. It seemed that this force wasn't here to retake the town in which four hundred soldiers were in, helped by sympathetic population. It could be easily gathered that the purpose of this attack was to get them into the open. Where more troops probaby avaited them. They had little time.

He started barking orders into the radio: "Retreat and disperse, in groups of 20. Go fro the vineyards and towards the border crossing we snuck through, bu keep in smaller groups. Cover your retreat with mortar fire. I want al leat two mortars firing in every direction you can hear shots from.At least one platoon should head northwest and try to break through and reach industrial district of Trieste."

Then he quickly called the command in Kolomban:

"Major General Smolej are you here?"

"I hear you Parrota. What's happening?"

"We have been attack just as we were getting ready to retrait into the countryside. What is the status with divisions on the border."

"There are four infantry divisions and one armored division in Kolomban. Two volunteer divisions are supposed to come through Krvavi Potok. If we manage to break through the front on those two points we will have no difficulty in reaching Trieste. Order your men to disperse into small groups and terrorize Italians with sniper fire and mortar fire from the bushes."

"Understood major General."

While several mortarist kept the attackers under fire, most of the partisans started dispersing, heading out of the village through vineyards, some of them going towards the border, others towards Trieste.

Kolombin, Slovenian side of the border, 13 km to the West

Colonel Lehorak, in command of the 8th artillery regiment was reading reports of the recent border skirmish, when his phone rang. He picked it up and listened to the command silently, nibbling at his pencil and memorizing the locations that were transmitted to him. After that he called the battery commanders located in the west:

"Colonel Pietro, commence the shelling of the Italian border positions from Lazaretto to Muggia. Our divisions will focus attack them on the west side of the border and try to gain control of via Triestina going from Trieste to Kolomban."

Five Colomban divisions moved towards the stretch of the border going from Lazaretto to Muggia. Artillery roared as first shells started falling on Italian fortifications.

by **Greater Slavic Union** » Wed Jul 12, 2017 7:48 pm

Západosłovánska Zviązék Řečýpospolitých Radzěckích
Western Slavic Union of Soviet Republics

"Sektor Prus, Pomořa, i Gdańska" HQ of the Western Slavic Army, Królevěc, Prusy - August 31

"Who the fuck decided that you should not shoot on them?!" screamed the brigade commander of the only brigade that made up the garrison of Królevěc. "Those people are fucking Germans! They raped your mothers, tried to abort your sisters' birth, killed your fathers, tried to avoid you from speaking your own, our own fucking language! If it was up to them, you would not be here! You would barely be alive! Most of you guys here are not old enough to remember it decently, but I do remember the Great War. I do remember the way they treated us: they promised us independence, and when they conquered Warsaw they established a puppet state with no freedom of action. They treated us subhumans. And now we welcomed them. There were many plans about harming the Germans in the territories we had just regained, in the last weeks, but none of them were implemented. And that is how they show their gratitude towards us?!?! Why on earth didn't you shoot?! Next time, you will shoot. You will. There are no excuses, and if you do not bring me their leaders here in a maximum of three months, you will face my wrath. Have you understood it!?"

"Sir yes, sir!" said the soldiers.

"Very well. Now, we already have the names of ten of those German scumbags that have been involved in those clashes. They will be distributed to you in within one hour. You will be charged with taking them. Understood?"

"Sir yes, sir!" shouted again the soldiers.

Three hours later

"Go, go, go!" shouted the corporal after having kicked the house's door open. It was a normal house, in a normal flat, in the city of Królevěc. As most of the city, it hadn't really changed with the WUSR's takeover after the referendum. There were the same patterns as before, the inhabitants were mostly the same, and the German language and culture were respected, just as every other language, culture, or ethnicity. But still, a part of the Germans had not lived this well, they did not want to be under the WUSR's rule. Evidently, they ignored that Prusy had been, yes, German for a long time, but that this was only because of the Teutonic betrayal of the accords taken with Konrad I Mazowiecki, who invited them to help his Duchy against the Prussian pagans and giving them the right to utilize Chełmno as base for their campaigns.

The soldiers entered the house, weapons in hand. They were seven. In the house, there were four people, or at least it looked like that. In order to be sure to capture the person they were looking for, the corporal had detached the soldiers to watch the other side of the flat (where the emergency exit was).

"Ręce vzhůru, ręce vzhůru!" shouted a man among the soldiers. The civilians looked at each other as they could not understand. "Ui... Oni niemłuví naším językem..." said then the same soldier.

"Hände hoch!" shouted then another of the soldiers "Wo ist Kathrin Schünemann?" Nobody answered. "Ich möchte, dass wo sie ist du sagst mir. Wenn du sagst es nicht, Ich eine person töten will. Verstehst du mich?" the soldier said again, talking to a man. As this one did not understand, he shot to one on his right. "Wo. Ist. Sie." he then said again. At this point, after having seen a man being killed, the guy decided to cooperate and pointed to a door.

The corporal then addressed two of his soldiers, two women. "Katya, Maria! Rychle!" he said. The two women went there and found her: a very young girl, maybe 22 years old, with dark blonde hair and brown eyes, hiding in a room hoping not to be found. Indeed: hoping. They had found her now, and she couldn't hide anymore. They took her into the main room of the house, where everything had been happening until now, and noticed that the people and the blood were not there anymore. They asked their corporal and he told them the floor had been cleaned and the people brought into the truck. Then they all went to the truck, where they were reached by the guys who were looking for Mrs. Schünemann on the other side of the building. Once everybody was on the truck, they went to the barracks. The woman was to be interrogated, and the other people were to be sent to other, smaller, cities: Królevěc's "Cultural plan" had started.

by **Hashirajima** » Thu Jul 13, 2017 2:14 am

[Location: Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Tokyo]

Reading the encrypted message from across the Pacific, Foreign Minister Kouki Hirota raised an eyebrow. 'Well... that's certainly unexpected.' Picking up his phone, he dialed a number.

"Yes, Prime Minister. You'll want to see this."

[Location: Imperial General HQ, Tokyo]

"So, see that the logistics workflow is streamlined. If both branches need to share ammunition, do so. Also, about the whole damned foraging thing... which fool came up with that? If the US can afford to feed their troops, so can we."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Inclining his head, the IJA's logistics head noted down a growing list of tasks he really need to sort out.

"Anything else to report?"

"The new dive bombers are currently prototyping, with test flights scheduled as soon as Prototype 1 is completed. Nakajima has also submitted their designs for the new torpedo bombers. As for the A6M, more are being introduced to the squadrons. No faults have been found so far, though some have raised concerns over the light armouring."

"I see. Army?"

"The Chi-Nu are being rolled out as soon as possible. We're looking into developing more advanced equipment, mainly mortars and mines. Anti-air, I believe, remains a concern to both sides." Referring to his notes, the head of the Army Technical Bureau listed out.

"Any solutions to that?"

"We're considering comparing some foreign designs-"

"What are you talking about? Clearly those barbarians can't possibly surpass-" A rather nationalistic staff officer glared over at Technical Bureau head, evidently objecting to the idea of even considering the option raised. Although, that was quickly cut off by General Tojo, who had returned from Manchukuo just for this meeting.

"Do so. We have carriers, it is not beyond imagination that others will have them too. I believe the Navy is also conducting studies into that, work with them." While inter-service rivalry remained high, the past years of enforced cooperation spearheaded by the Emperor himself had done much in reducing the fallout. Both branches insisted on retaining their individual assets in all battlespaces - land, air, and sea - but at least shared logistics and research is very much underway.

Suddenly, one of the officers from the Army Technical Bureau perked up. "Also, we've managed to collate reports from the Khasan. Seems like the Russians were using a truck to carry rocket launch racks."

"They were rather devastating, if a bit haphazardly deployed. Could be due to the sudden nature of the conflict. Is it possible to replicate this capability?" Mused Lieutenant-General Yi Un, having actually seen those rockets in action. "It might be a good asset for our own heavy artillery units."

"Understood."

Looking around, Hirohito saw that most of the officers seemed to have concluded their reports. "Before we call an end to this... anyone has anything to add?"

The almost visible relieve, felt by everyone who was attending this almost day-long meeting, deflated when the head of Army Intelligence stood up. "Just an update on the Europe situation. It appears that Communist forces have breached the Italian-Yugoslavia border. No definite proof, but there seems to be governmental support from the Yugoslavia side. The Italians are mustering their forces, and interestingly the Republic of Ireland and even a group of Russian Imperialists has gotten involved. Also-"

"Interesting indeed." Pondered Tojo. "Didn't the Irish recently went on a spending spree?"

"Yes. Mostly tanks and small arms, from what I understand. And some aircraft."

"Seems like they are intent on making a move in the Continent. Also... you were saying?"

"Right... also, seems like the Netherlands government-in-exile is building up their holdings in the East Indies. They've expressed interest in attracting foreign investors. The major zaibatsu are currently considering this, and it appears that Nakajima and Mitsubishi might be interested. Seems like the resources available in the region would aid production."

Nodding, Hirohito turned this idea around in his head. "Hmm... pass a message to them. They have Our approval if they wish to proceed. But don't take too much risk."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Now, before we go our separate ways... I believe you are all aware that the US has extended an olive branch towards us. Seems like the Communist threat has a way of gathering unlikely allies. Take this opportunity to deepen our technological and industrial base. That's all."

[Location: Telegram, to the USA]

TO: United States Department of State
FROM: Foreign Ministry, Empire of Japan
ENCRYPTION: SECRET

Dear Mr Hull,

Firstly, let me express our appreciation towards your nation's dedication in the fight against communism, and welcome the offered support. Secondly, we would like to indicate our attendence in the proposed meeting, to be held in Manila, Philippines. While it is against protocol for His Majesty to personally attend, we will be sending a team of delegates to represent His Majesty in this dialogue. I hope your nation finds this acceptable.

Regards,
Hirota Kouki
Foreign Minister
Empire of Japan

RED DAWN: The Next World War, An Alt History of WW2 (IC)

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