Das Kapital Region
Presidential Palace
April 1st,1927
President Rachlet Partenbré awoke to the sound of thunder from his window. Hastily throwing on a robe, he ran over towards his presidential office, picking up the phone and putting in a 7-4 before hearing a dull buzz as someone picked it up.
“Mr. President?”
“Did the weather report call for thunder?”
“Sir, those are howitzers.”
“H-Howitzers?! I thought we weren’t at war again?!”
“Well sir, I’m afraid to say that we’re at war again, they sound like Manticorian howitzers.”
Partenbré was impressed by the level of detail his aide knew according to such things, with his eyebrows being raised.
“Really? How can you tell?”
“The guns come from Manticore, their shells scream the sweet release of death. Our shells just babble on about mild flesh wounds from the shrapnel they send flying out.”
“Hm, we really should get that looked at, anyways, wait-what in the unholy mother of fuck?!”
“Sir, we’re at war with Manticore.”
“I..I never authorized such a bullshit endeavor, but I shall lead our country. Is the army mobilized?”
“It’s been mobilized for weeks, sir, though I must mention our economy-“
Before the concern could be brought to Partenbré’s attention, he changed the subject.
“What?! Inform the Generals of the Empire to meet with me at once, and have those field armies repel enemy forces immediate! I want the fucking navy out doing shit.”
“Sir, the latter point is already true, the fleet’s been sailing around for weeks.”
“Well fuck our coal levels then. We’ll talk later on, dismissed.”
With a slamming down of the receiver, a knot in his stomach forced him to the outhouse. Which was indoors of the mansion that stuck out like a Carriebeanian shit throwing diplomat at any social gathering. After thoroughly hunched over the bathroom for several minutes, he walked downstairs with a ghastly face where the military members loomed over maps.
“Generals, status update.”
“Sir, we’ve lost contact with the Army of the Hobo and Army of the Tramp. The Army of the Drunk, Army of the Damned, Army of the Saints, Army of the Flag, and the Army of the Old have reported in with little in the way of problems, though enemy forces have been sighted and they are engaging them. That is all.”
“How many men at arms is that in total?”
“Well, if this was optimal conditions for readiness, these six armies would constitute 1.2 million men, though only two of them are at full strength.”
“Those being?”
“Right sir, the army of the Hobos and Army of the Tramp. All other armies range from a quarter of their on paper numbers filled to half at best.”
“Half at best?! you mean to tell me we’ve declared war, got war declared on, and we’ve only got half at best in some of the armed forces we have?! What is your timetable on victory?”
“There is none sir, only a very delayed defeat with our models predicting a half year as the most optimistic outcome.”
“I want the full number of Carriebeanian Forces now.”
Being handed a small piece of paper, he trembled as he mused over the documentation.
CARRIEBEANIAN ORDER OF BATTLE
Army of the Hobo:
Chief of Staff First Class Ronald Matei
70,000 soldiers and 134 artillery pieces of the following type:
14,000 horses
24x Gatling Guns
28 x12 pounder Zhackary Cannons
40 x De Bange 90mm Cannons
22 x 1897 75mm Cannons
20 x Hoppes 75mm Stock Cannons
Army of the Tramp:
Chief of Staff First Class Edward Phelps
74,000 soldiers and 128 artillery pieces of the following type:
15,000 horses
22 x Gatiling Guns
30 x 12 pounder Zhackary Cannons
25 x De Bange 90mm Cannons
24 x 1897 75mm Cannons
20 x Hoppes 75mm Stock Cannons
9 x Nihon loaned 7cm Field Cannons
Army of the Drunk:
Chief of Staff Partch Bently Sr.
80,000 soldiers and 125 Artillery Pieces of the following type:
17,000 horses
49 x Nihon loaned 7cm Field Cannons
22 x De Bange 90mm Cannons
21 x 1897 75mm Cannons
20 x 12 Hotchkiss Revolving Cannons
13 x Nihon loaned Type 38 75mm Field Guns
Army of the Damned
Chief of Staff First Class William Phillips Godwinson
68,000 soldiers and 95 Artillery Pieces of the following types
9,000 horses
11 x Mitrailleuse Volley Guns
10 X QF Needle Volley Guns
28 X De Bange 90mm Cannons
11 X 1897 75mm Cannons
2 X Gatling Guns
22 X Nihon loaned Type 38 75mm Field Guns
11 X Nihon loaned 7cm Field Cannons
Army of the Saints:
Chief of Staff First Class Elijah Vickers Sylvester
59,000 soldiers and 88 Artillery Pieces of the following types
12,000 horses
10 x Nihon loaned 7cm Field Cannons
38 X De Bange 90 mm Cannons
40 X Gatling Guns
Army of the Flag:
President of the Lords Arnold Paltcher Williamson
70,000 soldiers and 70 Artillery Pieces of the following types
7,000 horses
35 X Nihon loaned 7cm Field Cannons
35 X De Bange 90mm Cannons
Army of the Old:
President of the Lords Charles Xavier Young
90,000 soldiers and 228 Artillery Pieces
15,000 Horses
79 X De Bange 90mm Cannons
38 X 1897 75mm Cannons
30 X Pickett 53mm Cannons
30 X Hotchkiss Revolving Cannons
20 X 12 pounder Zhackary Cannons
14 X Nihon loaned Type 38 10 cm Cannons
10 X Gatling Guns
7 X Nihon loaned Type 95 75mm Cannons
Total Size of Carriebeanian Armies as listed:
511,000 total Carriebeanian Soldiers, 89,000 horses and 868 Artillery Pieces organized for a total theoretical number of 25 fully war prepared divisions.
After a long pause in musing over the documents, Partenbré let out a deep sigh before slumping back in his chair. Gone was the vigor and rage that had once consumed his orifices every waking moment of his day.
“I’m not sure how long we can keep up with these wars…The most inevitable outcome will be our defeat, but I’d be silly if I wouldn’t say we could delay losing as much as possible. We’ve got half a million soldiers ready to die for the Empire, almost ninety thousand horses prepared to charge across the skulls of the dead and dying, and a few shy of nine hundred cannons being made alert and on guard for enemy troop movements. Still… It’s not enough. We’re going to need more. Is there any way we could muster together at most five divisions?”
“Sir, it will take some time, but that can be achievable, albeit with them using subpar weapons and training.”
“Compared to the regular army? They’d look like a bunch of cavemen next to the soldiers marching to war in rags! Equip the random joe with whatever guns we have, and ready the customary welcome wagons of the baby brigades and old lady dare to die corps.”
Chief of Staff Partch Bently Sr stood up from his chair, face now clearly reddened by the president’s remarks.
“Sir! The regular Army’s supply lines are under immense pressure, even with the limited repairs on the railroads, much of it still has to be hauled via wagon trains. These are the exposed veins of the Carriebeanian Army which might resemble blood. If the enemy was to strangle such supply roads with looming enemy planes or tanks, then we will be cut off. This in turn will lead to a worsening of morale among the men. I object to the establishment of mere throwaway units that will simply provide the only task in abetting our enemies by taking away desperately needed resources from frontline units!”
Chief of Staff First Class Elijah Vickers Sylvester also rose from his seat alongside Bently Sr.
“I concur! No soldier will fight on an empty stomach, if the food and logistical situation deteriorates faster, there will be no food within the granaries within two weeks! You have failed to maintain the farms, ignored basic hygienic procedures and spread plagues throughout the Empire! Hundreds of thousands of potential workers for defensive structures now are bed ridden or already captured by the enemy. In short, there will be famine, desertion and revolution! Did you forget about Casso’s rebellion?”
The President was taken aback by these statements, angrily firing back with this retort in the meeting room.
“Generals! I am well aware of the supply concerns of many soldiers and have seen to it personally that the men are supplied with adequate provisions. However, we must, unfortunately, face facts in that we are unable to feed everyone, and such cannibalism must be adopted. That is law now according to me. Should any of your armies run out of food, begin to whittle away at your numbers with the staff around you. That should provide sufficient sustenance for the armies to continue a full out offensive to crush the red menace and drive the enemy hordes from the gates of the capital again!”
“Sir, The Armies shall merely make do either by living off of the land of their general sectors or pillaging the surrounding areas. Cannibalism will only be used as a last resort. The Carriebeanian Armies may have a reputation for outdated technology, but I’ll be dammed if we ignore advancements in canning! I shall have all my soldiers eat canned shit and canned corn. We must preserve our ammunition supplies while furnishing several civilians behind the lines to manufacture such projects in vast warehouses in order to keep up with the demand for shells, bullets and carbines.”
“But if the civilians linger around in the reserves, they are wasting the good ‘waste’ and food we have, starving our own soldiers and making the defensive lines weaker as a result! I would rather expel the civilians or have them take up arms to march alongside us! I have problem with the civilians as combatants, but if we were to mobilize them as mosquitos alongside us, then that would lead to a collapse in food, a collapse in morale, and a collapse in the army!”
With a tempered look in his eyes, the president’s gaze met Sylvester’s, who shuddered slightly.
“Gentlemen. I can assure you that I have some confidence in the ability of the Carriebeanian soldier. Scores of Breyburgian and Rannorian soldiers are being cut down by our mass numbers against them. Their field guns are being turned against them, and our Calvary now runs rampant through their lines!”
“Sir, if you understood reality, you would know that is complete and utter bullshit! The Carriebeanian soldier is as much a threat to the enemy as he is to his own ally! The Carriebeanian Armies are in tatters, and even if we were at full strength, we’d be steamrolled thanks to shoddy communication, lack of modernization and poor battlefield tactics. I have had it with your excuses of ‘throw as many carriebeanian corpses between us and the enemy’! I would like for you to pick up a fucking carbine and march your ass to the front yourself! See for yourself how badly we’re losing! I just received word that Army of the Flag has moved to Nihonese territory for escape!”
The President’s face slowly turned a lighter shade of red before collapsing on his chair with a defeated sigh.
“All we can do now is hope for relief to arrive. Contact Nihonese and demand 24 divisions march over and save our asses! With their assistance, we shall be able to turn the tide. I’m not particularly proud of such things, but I suppose I have no other options at my disposal. Call for help. This meeting is dismissed until further notice.”
With a snappy salute, the generals left the defeated President as their beloved country collapsed around them. The orders were fairly vague, though the more zealous patriots formed Capital Defense Units of three hundred armed old women with grenades and carbines.
Dispatch to the Nation of Nihon
From: Carriebeanian Office of Foreign Affairs
Encryption: What the everloving mother of fuck is that?
The Carriebeanian Government and respective ministers does humbly and urgently request military aid in the form of firearms and bombs, along with men to transport said weapons across the front line to ensure maximum carnage against the enemy forces which now sweep through Carriebean like the bubonic plague.
Should this request be granted, an immediate transfer of 4.2 billion cubic tons of human shit shall be dispatched as a gift of the utmost wonder for such a support, along with 4,200,000 Sais worth in golden shit nuggets intermingled with the human shit, so have fun looking through the shit to find gold. The special fire like diplomatic ties the Carriebeanian nation has with it’s longtime ally shall never be extinguished, only dimmed or brightened.
Carriebean City
Barricades of immense piles of whatever armed civilians could get their hands on were formed up, ranging from entire furniture pieces to primitive stone heaths removed via sledgehammer from the walls of the stone buildings. Thousands of Carriebeanian soldiers outside of the city hammered together stakes and cattle wire to ensure maximum confusion, with several trenches filled with explosives being hastily assembled, though in the haste some of them were not properly armed.
It was in this atmosphere of yet another siege brought the 79 year old Baron von Goethe walking along the cobblestone roads, the sound of his cane thwacking along as he looked around at the sights. Several women were hastily baking bread from a mostly sawdust comprised bread, along with some fresh water being hauled up in buckets with exhausted looking children carrying them around.
Goethe turned his head to see the sights of thirty Carriebeanian soldiers that were chips off his old block, cane less and shouldering a smorgasbord of Carriebeanian firearms, from a bow and quiver to an elderly man to an old woman cradling a shotgun in her arms as carefully as she would hold her grandson. Two men were lugging a donkey through the streets, still stubbornly tugging at it with a three thousand pound Gatling gun behind it at a snail’s pace. A feeling of disappointment filled Goethe’s eyes as he wandered down another street as the faint sound of artillery boomed in the distance.
Council of the Vendee
Judge-Chair of the Council of the Vendee Jullian Davenport Robespierre fruitlessly gaveled madly in order to bring the legislative session to order. After some much appreciated help from Carriebeanian soldiers, the delegates took their seats along four central blocks of seats per both the poor and church classes. Established in 1408, The Council of the Vendee used to be a somewhat important government mechanism as a check on the powers of absolute monarchy by more enlightened individuals and figures close to the monarch and the people.
It preformed the role with much corruption and incompetence until it’s graceful dissolution of charter by King Alexander III in 1633. It stood dormant and unused for the next 294 years until it was called back by the President to get around taxation and mostly used as a snub by ambassadors and their staff with a recent meeting involving Manticorian diplomats.
(13 members from nobility
14 members from the Carriebeanian Imperial Army
54 members from church classes
103 members from poor classes)
In the way the voting worked, all the delegates votes would be weighted via the collective block that voted for or against legislation, with it being necessary with a simple 3/4th’s Majority to pass.
Soon the numerous miniature conversations died on the tongues of their respective politicians or priests, the spouse of the Imperial Monarch, Queen-Consort Godwin Lorraine of Drunkenwell rose from her seat at the rear of the room to address the delegates in the prestigious manner.
“My Beloved Subjects of the Realm of the Crown of Saint Jack and Bishop Sparrow, Since the date of our lord the Ninth Day of May from his holy calendar year of 1633, the Council of the Vendee has remained defunct. Not today, as we approach together with a new legislative purpose. We shall reaffirm our political powers back from the incompetent Congress with our legislative might! I do declare the following:
1. That legislative power will be shared along with Parliament and Congress with the Council of the Vendee having veto authority over any and all legislation passed by either legislative chamber.
2. In order for such a veto to be brought up, any member of this assembly must bring up a note of concern with at least 22 other signatures by other concerned members of the Council. It shall then be voted on for a full floor vote by myself, the Monarch or Consort and the Lord-Minister of Saint Depuis.
3. Should it pass, a full floor vote with the respective houses will be called, with the needing of just three of the four classes agreeing to the proposal. Any such legislative proposals by Congress, the House of Nobles, House of Peasants and House of the People will live or die here.”
CONCERING THE RECENT DECLARATION OF WAR ON BREYBURG
I. Many of his majesty’s delegates are concerned with the recent wars and wish to bring peace back to Carriebeanian Soil. As such Carriebeanian Military Forces must stop fighting and rush back to their beloved plantations for such a massive endeavor of infrastructure to be undertaken to boost our flailing economic growth.
II. Inasmuch, the delegation does find the justification of such military endeavors to be against basic common sense and decent morality of any and all people of god’s green earth. It is repugnant against the good souls of Carriebeanian hospitality and of the church. God would condemn those who take up arms against their own brother.
III. We have, indeed, discovered that the proper procedures for declaring war upon either a entity, persons, or sovereign nationstate according to the Carriebeanian Constitution, were not followed. In order for a declaration of war to be deemed legal in the eyes of such a legislative document, it must be voted on by Congress for it to be legal. As this case was not followed, the act of war by the propaganda machine is deemed illegal. In order to avoid holy decimation, the assembly sees fit for a vote of the vetoing of the illegal declaration of war against Breyburg.
AYE: 3 (Nobility-10, Church-30, Peasants-54) [Army-2] \total Aye votes:96
NAY:1 (Army-12) – [Nobility-3 Church-24 Peasants-49] \total Nay votes:88
With a smile greeting Robespierre’s face, a messenger strode into the ancient looking legislative chambers and presented him a small envelope. It was from the President himself. Opening It’s contents, he laughed slightly before folding it back into his pocket. In the chatter filled hallways of the assembly room, slightly swaying gas lamps illuminated the various smoking and talking politicians. He enters his personal office and locks the door behind him, going over to a telephone which sat on the dust caked surface of the desk. Rolling around the numbers a few times, his hand lifted up the receiver to his ear to listen to a very wheezy voice on the other end of the line.
“Is this Robespierre?”
“Yes. Why must you ask me now?”
“You’re going off on a meeting. When you arrive at the embassy, ask for Dupont Depuis. He’ll explain everything else there.”
With a shrug, the somewhat important political head left the conference area, boarded a small train and clopped along the road towards his new destination.
Carriebeanian Army of the Hobos (70,000 men and 134 guns)
Chief of Staff First Class Ronald Matei was drifting softly to sleep while the sound of obnoxious snoring emanated from the aides and officers surrounding him. He soon blinked his eyes awake at dawn in order to relive himself. Staring outside at the still visible arena of vast stars made him awe inspired, if tired and needing to take a piss. Once he had relived himself, the sounds of motorized vehicles instantly drew attention to him.
“You, rank?”
“Disun Commander Iwana Die sir.”
“Alright then, I want you to go investigate who in the hell is driving this early in the morning.”
With a snappy salute, the soldier walked over with frantic arm movements in one hand while gripping his colt revolver in the other before a burst of machine gun fire cut the man down as the force advanced towards the army.
Leaping into action, Matei ran from tent to tent, commanding the troops to make ready battle formation.
“All Men Battlestations! We’re being invaded!”
The whole scene was a confused mess of people fiddling around with their overalls and military uniforms, with soldiers throwing together some revolutionary actual bread for the soldiers to munch on before shouldering their rifles, carbines and manning the Gatling guns which opened up to match enemy machine gun fire. The irregular sound of multiple chambers being rotated blending nicely with the machined and industrially uniform rat tat tat tat of the enemy machine guns going off from their speeding armored cars.
However, the accents of such a foreign force almost immediately gave them away, and confused many soldiers.
“Hoosiers? Why are the Hoosiers invading?” It would be the last thought going through the mind of Matei before he tripped and landed face first on a landmine, ripping his body and an enemy armored car’s to shreds in a brilliant fireball. The Carriebeanian forces were thrown back into chaos, with many of them fleeing while desperate rear guard actions were being held up to limited effect, as the enemy only dispatched a portion of their force to the rear guard while moving on after the fleeing enemy soldiers in a massacre like state.
With that, over 130 Carriebeanian cannons and close to 55,000 Carriebeanian soldiers were taken prisoner. Carriebeanian forces lost 5,000 soldiers within the first few minutes of confused fighting. A seventh of the fighting forces size along with Chief of Staff First Class Ronald Matei were able to escape through a canyon that was impassable to enemy vehicles on horseback. Based on his muted accounts, the commander failed to see no more than a hundred enemy bodies lying alongside the thousands of Carriebeanian corpses. The Fight was over in less than twenty minutes with a complete rout of the Carriebeanian forces.
The demoralized second in command, Chief of Staff First Class Aide Yosemite Darnell, was one of those soldiers pushing and shoving his way towards a based mountain, with a vast slopping valley on either side.
“Forwards men! Retreat!”
“The War is lost! We must capitulate!”
“I shall rather die than capitulate, Attack!”
The Carriebeanian army soon organized itself into three distinct portions (15,000 van, 20,000 center and 20,000 reserve) with a warpath style vanguard blasting away with the colt revolving carbines until their ammunition was bled dry, resorting either to picking off of the corpses of the growing number of dead or charging in with their cutlass, being mowed down as they attempted to close in on the slopping valley where enemy fire rained down upon them.
The Carriebeanian Van’s dead totaled 11,456 killed with another 1,039 wounded
The Carriebeanian Middle was a much less active fighting force, with it being comprised on many former slaves, often out of five minute training after being reluctantly “handed over” by their masters to take up arms for the black white and red tricolor of Carriebean. Often after eight minutes of sustained enemy fire and with plenty of dead corpses of their comrades surrounding them, they would raise vast white flags and only be disarmed once the vanguard was wiped out.
Carriebeanian Middle’s dead was only 2,245 killed with 7,000 taken prisoner.
The Rearguard’s forces did not have the stomach for such a prolonged engagement, and so after only a slightly longer time of ten minutes of sustained fire, the Carriebeanian rear broke ranks en mass to flee towards many directions, akin to a shattered glass.
Carriebeanian Rearguard’s losses totaled 1,478 killed with 10,098 taken prisoner with 8,424 escaping.
Boarder of Landstriecher
Carriebeanian Army of the Tramps (74,000 men and 128 guns)
Chief of Staff First Class Edward Phelps kept a sharp eye out with the rest of his soldiers. The Army had been mobilized for a full year now, continuing to see action in aggressive raids by enemy forces. While those had been undoubtly in violation of various international treaties, the diplomatic side of him would shrug his shoulders at this.
Unlike many generals within the Carriebeanian armed forces, he distrusted the neutrality of the Breybergian State, and could only shake his head at the news of war when the government’s idiotic decision came in. Nevertheless, Phelps had planned meticulously for such an occurrence.
The Carriebeanian Army’s strategic position was excellent, the only way through the Carriebeanian positions was a thorn bush infested dry segment of the bush. Two dozen Gatling and milltiuse cannons had been set up within the surrounding green areas to ambush the enemy. Still, he had his reservations about the ability to hold armor if it did come, and so only allocated 10,000 soldiers dug in merely to hold off and delay enemy forces long enough to enable defensive positions to be fully manned.
Most of his military strength and about 60,000 soldiers waited in long snaking rows of trenches gaining height with each successive line. There were little in the way of connections to the other trenches, nessciting a steady climb up such a steep inclimb. A messenger soon stumbled off his horse, handing Phelps a message in very shaky handwriting which informed him of enemy forces approaching.
No sooner had he said that, the loud booms of thunder were heard, except it was too cold for such thunderous clouds to be clapping in the skies…
“Get down!” He soon yanked the messenger’s head under a table as a shrapnel shell exploded above their positions, spraying several soldiers with horrific metallic fragments as blood began to flow. More artillery slammed into the positions of Carriebeanian soldiers, evaporating many men where they stood, only leaving the gruesome shadows.
“Here comes the enemy!” the commander peered desperately with his monocles, squinting at the felled trees as mines went off and gunfire was faintly heard. Elsewhere, battle positions were hastily manned by the rows of trenches as lit gunpowder barrels were readied in the main magazine of the Carriebeanian Army. The sound of machine gun fire, Gatling gun fire, carbine fire and the firm smell of black powder filled the air for many of the sweat soaked soldiers who kept up a blistering, if mostly inaccurate hail of bullets and grenades.
Vicarina
The Speeding staff car was the only sight on the foreign roads, much to the amused terror of the locals, who often fled perfectly to avoid being run over by the driver with too much whiskey and rum to swallow. Being flown around in the back of the poor metallic contraption was Carriebeanian Ambassador to Manticore Dupont Depuis, with another smack on the thin metallic safety bar via his forehead whenever the driver slammed on the brakes.
“Son of a bitch.. watch out!” The driver quickly turned the wheel when his attention was brought to an old lady crossing the street, with a sickening crunch, the old lady died under the wheels of the newest Carriebeanian civilian staff car, the Drunkenwell Mark I, with a top speed of 30 miles per hour and absolutely shit suspension on all but the flattest terrain. With a stern glare at the driver, Depuis leapt out of the metallic death trap and slammed open the front doors after flashing his credentials and sitting down at the opposite end of the oak table where the delegates and ambassadors sat. Fiddling with a cigar, he stuck it in his mouth and flashed a middle finger to the Rusklandr delegation before smiling at the Manticorian hosts. Shortly after another man with a trench coat and umbrella smiled before sitting down.
“Greetings, I’m Judge-Chair of the Council of the Vendee Jullian Davenport Robespierre. This unfortunate son of a bitch next to me is Ambassador to Manticore Dupont Depuis, who shall also act as a partial interpreter for confusing words such as ‘w-a-r-c-r-i-m-e-s.’.”
With only a few startled and confused looks being shot at them, both Robespierre and Depuis remained seated and silent until Robespierre leapt up from his seat at the prospect of a demilitarized Carriebean.
“What the fuck?! If the Carriebeanian Government is incompetent warmongers, then you people have no reason on earth to disband the Carriebeanian Imperial Army! If you can rest assured at a 99% success rate when the average meal in Carriebean is human shit with plenty of salt and pepper, then there’s little incentive to nip this problem in the butt. You will always win, Carriebean will always lose, the status quo in political powers will never alter or swing in our favor!
If anything, the Carriebeanian Army needs to be strengthened with more funding and incompetent officers we handpick from the slums. These hobo officers rise to command soldiers numbering in the hundreds of thousands, faintly reading if they are literate military tactics from the 17th and 18th centuries. There is no reason for any military on Allah’s green earth for a military force, well versed in the art of loosing wars with two hands shoved up their asses, to be diminished in size.
We’ll probably skirt the restrictions with a misplacing on official government documents that we’ll send to you, though the overall literacy rate is 4 and a half percent. Honestly that’s a new record. Wait? Accepting Central Powers Occupation?! Oh hell no. Hell no. Hell naw bitch. Once you drive your forces over the exhausted Carriebeanian corpse, then we might be willing for profitable and vindictive negotiations involving the future of Carriebeanian affairs.”
After Robespierre’s face glowed red with anger, Depuis gently sat him down as the meeting continued throughout the day. Before Robespierre was to get into another shouting match, Depuis got up from his seat and dragged him outside before locking the door.
“Now, I apologize for my contemporary’s outburst. I’m sure the Carriebeanian Government and your people will be able to come to a thoroughly win-win solution regarding the Carriebeanian Imperial Navy and Army. How about we offer this middle ground in disbanding with your supervision, our entire air force of 200 planes? We shall also assist in the demining of several civilian centers which have been left over as a result of our overcautious planning for operation blind faith. On top of this, we shall officially spike a total of 300 of our cannons as a sign of goodwill.”
As he sat down with a murmured response by his critics, both the Nihonian and Manticorian delegations began to exchange verbal blows and facts. The Carriebeanian diplomat was impressed by the fiery tempers on both sides, albeit his maintained a stone filled, emotionless face as both gentlemen spat at each other verbally. Finally seeing a window of opportunity, Depuis rose from his seat to address them.
“I shall first come to the defense of our Nihonese allies, as three full days is enough time for at least a ‘basic’ investigation to come to a conclusion of war against a hostile enemy. I, in fact, applaud their long debates and restraint in warfare, something which we modeled until we sent in thousands of peacekeepers to ensure order and stability. I must also add, that we offered a nonpartisan solution, yet none of the parties involved response back. It’s bitterly disappointing that we now find ourselves in this situation, but we must not mope on the past, but rather, look to the future.”
Taking a pause in his speech, he unwrapped a small tin flask before swigging a few of it down with a retired look in his eyes before returning to speaking slightly slurred.
“Rum, aged from 1855.
Now, I would like to emphasize here that we never recognized the country of Parsa, merely acknowledging them as an unfair and burdened tributary vassal of the greater and wicked Aydinirian Empire. We were to merely occupy a few towns along the way, ensure the people were enslaved, raped and had no place to live after burning it down, but it was all part of the peacekeeping efforts. The mission statement cooked up by our bureaucrats states this.”
He then unfolds a paper from his pocket and a small case containing some glasses, laying the document on the table for all to see, which reads:
The Mission Statement regarding foreign affairs with Aydiniria and Nihon, authorized by his Illustrious Divinity Tyler the Second, Protector of Carriebean and Wearer of his most Blessed Crown of the Catholic Faith, on this day of our lord July 7th,1926.
AWARE of the historical significance of the Parsi region to the states currently involved in the current conflict, and with notable claims to such a vast territory among the world political establishment.
CONCERNED with the outbreak of rampant violence between the Nihonese military forces and the Aydiniran Operational Forces currently dispatched as of our knowledge.
DEMANDING the complete and total security of Carriebeanian Naval assets and trade personnel from such an inhospitable terrain and hostile people.
DISAPPOINTED with the rejection of this demand and outraged at the embargo imposed on us by the Manticorian Dictatorship, does declare on this day of our lord July 7th, 1926 to authorize an expedition of peacekeepers to the region and to convey diplomatic overtures to surrounding states to ensure cool heads prevail.
“Now, one of the main problems we have is our antiquated system of communication, which if there are any veterans from the 1870s still lingering around, you’d know that we utilize gunshots with an entire alphabet of how many shots equals which letter or blank command depending on the type of the gun and what sound it makes. For example, an officer’s colt carbine will be used by a Tensun Third Class with his 5,000 soldiers to command them, while a general might utilize a 12 pounder napoleon cannon to command armies of over 100,000 strong into battle. Sure we utilize messenger boys on horseback, but gunfire is fun.
There is an old saying in my country, gentlemen, ‘You can only teach a Carriebeanian man that he cannot be taught.’”
With another swig from his rum, he then turned his attention to the Aydinirian diplomat with an aghast face and slurred speech emanating from his mouth, a noticeable side effect from the alcohol he was drinking.
“War crimes? You must be as mad as a Carriebeanian whore! The nation of Carriebean never commits such low levels of barbarism. I understand that the struggles of such a large campaign will lead men to do things no man should do within my lifetime, but Carriebean did not commit any such horrible actions. Now, if you were to have documented proof in the form of dead bodies, burned out villages and the slight chance that we may be sending a thousand sized relief force to the village to ensure proper genocide.
All of those attacks were merely Carriebeanian soldiers defending themselves by killing all the villagers and burning their homes down, completely according to the proper carriebeanian laws which permit such activities of nobility. Though I have heard rumors of the apparent barbarism of my men, which are to be taken with grains of salt until thorough investigations are launched into such allegations. If anything, we’d be better off rounding them off for the glorious slave markets which boost our economy. It’s been rumored that a Parsi bitch will net you 80,000 Sais at the first bid.”
He sat back down after the last part, face filled with a toothy grin as he took another large swig from his aged rum before listening to the words of the Aydiniran diplomat.
“There’s no coincidence in such a matter, as we are faithfully supporting our ally in the diplomatic great game of the day! It’s merely a matter of pride for the Carriebeanian Nation, actively seeking out one or two small incidents to ensure proper circulation of blood. The Carriebeanian Foreign policy, even before there were rumors of such a legal military action by Nihonese forces, was predetermined to get itself involved in such a quagmire. The military logic that fueld such interesting policy options was mostly a need to not just faithfully back Nihonese military adventures and rightful excursions, but also to enable the Carriebeanian military to get it’s hands dirty fighting and not eating shit sandwiches, which reminds me…”
He then undid the straps on a small suitcase and pulled out a slice of bread with a piece of shit log jammed on it, shoving the entire thing in his mouth before smiling and gesturing to a bag filled with shit and slices of fluffy white bread. After no one, surprisingly, took up his offer, he finished his meal before continuing.
“Ah, that hit the spot. Now where was I?- Right! Now, with regards to the mission of our peacekeepers, they were not intended to stop Nihonese forces in the slightest, with orders simply to march until they see a town and then fortify the loving bejesus out of it. It was intended to be repeated en mass with thousands of more peacekeepers to ensure stability in various ‘pockets of liberty’, which shall have the soldiers form of committees and begin to spread both democracy and civilization to the uncivilized savages of your country.
Though I will be the first to admit that both the First Carriebeanian Administrative Republic President Julian Theodore Wilkie and his unfortunate predecessor have taken to harsh means in order to spread such a democratic message. However, democracy cannot simply spread by words alone, there must be sacrifices, albeit perhaps we might have preferred human sacrifice compared to cannibalism for those populations, huh… I’ll have to write this down sometime….oh yes…oh god yes!”
