The New Caledonian War [Imperial Fatherland ONLY]

[Oceanyka]

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Welcome to New Caledonia, a true paradise on Earth!
The New Caledonian War
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For the past year, criminal activity from Oceanyka has been encroaching on foreign nations forever more. Tensions in the South Pacific are strong, with most nations in the world having a direct conflict or economic interests in the area. The nation of Mardasia, in the island of New Zealand, has specially been affected with constant harassment by Oceanykan barbarians reviving the ages-old hate between the nations. Although the situation seemed to be headed towards peace by the construction of an Oceanykan embassy in the capital city of Auckland in Mardasia, in February of 1961 the Mardasian Army landed on the shores of Southern New Caledonia. Outgunned and disorganised, the Oceanykan peoples will nevertheless defend their homes to the last man until the defender is driven away. The Mardasian Army, outnumbered and in a constant state of paranoia, will achieve it's objective of total victory despite any circumstances.

The foreign nations stand cautious, watching the story unfold from afar. But some do not believe observation is the proper answer to these events, and it is almost inevitable that Oceanyka will come under siege by the forces of the world. But time and time again have the brave men, women and children of the Free Land stood tall against foreign imperialism and have never seen defeat. But war is certainly uncertain, is it not? Perhaps this one will be different.

Germany's will is undecided and confused, but could be the greatest threat in the world stage. Yurizlansia cries for war against Oceanyka in the name of holy retribution. Some suspect the people of France may wish to push their righteous claim for New Caledonia. Yumanza stands quiet, but a quiet man is one in planning. Yatupun, close to the warzone, may feel threatened by the Free Land and take preemptive action. Terranihil has found an excellent business venture for their ruthless corporations. Who will stand as winner, and most importantly, will there be such a thing as victory?

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Rules of the RP

• Please do not participate in this thread unless you inhabit the region of the Imperial Fatherland.
• Diogott will be the supreme authority in this roleplay, as he is unable to join in.
• If you move your units in an RP post, move them in the Google map too.
• The ending of this war is NOT decided. It will depend on the actions taken by each of the combatants. Both are fine with victory or defeat. This war is supposed to mirror the Vietnam War.
• Nuclear weapons are completely prohibited.
• Gas, napalm, flamethrowers, mines, etc. are allowed but you may face international consequences. However, it might be preferable to take that small hit than to have a disadvantage.
• You may add your own units in the Google map if you are participating. But be realistic, sending over 3000 men is not allowed. Similarly, don't send your entire fleet and your entire airforce over here.
• Air and naval units will be present in the map, but will not move and instead cover a "zone". If you want to move the zone, then move the marker too.
• All movements, attacks, entrenchments, mobilisations, etc. will be roleplayed here. Joining the war will be announced in the NEWS thread and here.
• Take good care of your logistics. As in Vietnam, this war is mostly asymmetrical and your back will be as dangerous as your front.
• Oceanyka is allowed to asspull small units and wildlife to simulate non-logistical attrition.
• Joining Oceanyka's side is a political death sentence, but you may send tiny mercenary or unmarked special operations groups.
• Total elimination of enemy forces only happen if they are severely outnumbered and surrounded. Even then capture is preferable. Units can retreat.
• Please put some effort into your posts, one-liners aren't really acceptable.
• I, Oceanyka, wrote this in the morning when my mental abilities are pretty deficient. Therefore I will add new rules if Diogott allows me to.

Thanks to Diogott for the format and rule list.

[Yurizlansia]

About 500 KM off of the Coast of Mardasia

The Yurizlansian Cruiser Petar I was doing simple patrols in international waters near the territorial waters of Mardasia, and Oceanyka. Captian Viktor Smeligovich was speaking to Lieutenant Leonid Savyc, an officer who he had known since childhood, and one he respected immensely. Capt. Smeligovich had been in the Yurizlansian navy since the late 1930’s, and had mainly served to prevent piracy in the Black Sea. He had grown up in Kharkiv, and lived a childhood where he was fascinated by the sea, and the Yurizlansian Ortodox religion. As a result, when he eventually received command of a ship in 1950, he named it Petar I, a Serbian metropolitan who was canonized by the Yurizlansian Orthodox Church in 1834. He even ordered for a small chapel to be built in the already crowded ship, to the slight annoyance of some of the crew members. As he was talking to the Lieutenant, a private rushed into the room with a message from a watchman. Capt. Smeligovich opened the letter, that stated ”Oceanykan Cruiser spotted about 10 KM away, action may need to be taken.” The Lieutenant was taken aback by this message, as he regarded the Oceanykans as cowardly and did not expect that their navy would come anywhere near the Yurizlansian navy.

“Damn them! They are approaching our ship! We need to prepare for a possible engagement with the Oceanykan navy.” At this point the Captain grabbed the cross around his neck, and prayed for divine intervention.

“Captain, I am surprised by their audacity, but these men are no more than pathetic thieves, nothing compared to the glorious Yurizlansian navy.” The Lieutenant, quite proud of his country was perhaps a bit too confident in his nation’s military.

“Lieutenant, you know I respect you, but these are not our waters. If we were to engage them in the Black Sea, I could crush them with my eyes closed. We are also isolated from our Pacific Fleet, and who knows how well they are reinforced. But their ships are faster than ours I am afraid.” The Captain was already sweating from a combination of fear and anticipation as he knew a battle was looming on the horizon.

He ordered for the sirens to sound, ordering the crew members to assume their battle positions, which was done in some order. On the loudspeaker, another message came out, ”Boh blahoslovytʹ vas i vashoyi rodyny”, God bless you and your family, a message often said by Orthodox priests prior to death. Yurizlansian soldiers shouted at each other to prepare for the engagement, as gunners ran to their posts, and crewmen grabbed small arms just in case if the ships are close enough to use them. The Captain meanwhile, was telegraphing Kyiv to inform the General Staff of the Navy of an impending engagement, and asking for permission to engage the Oceanykan ship. The message he received backs stated, ”MESSAGE RECEIVED. PERMISSION GRANTED.” When the ships reached around 30,000 meters, the order was given to open fire. The 50 cal Mark 7 guns opened fire, aimed at the Oceanykan cruiser, achieving some hits on the far sides of the ship, causing what seemed like a panic on the Oceanykan ship.
Excellent, thought Lt. Savyc, they are already in a panic, and would soon withdraw. He could not have been more wrong, the Ocenykans were preparing their gun to return fire. After about a minute, a large booming could be heard, as well as smoke and fire from the Oceanykan ship, which was odd since the Yurizlansian ship hadn’t fired her guns recently. That’s wehn the Lieutenant realized it was Oceanykan fire, and he saw the shell as it blew up in the middle of the ship, dangerously close to the ammunition cache, and nearly causing an explosion. However, he had not time to think about that, as a sharp piece of metal was “thrown” violently into his stomach causing him to faint. The explosion also killed and injured six other men, and the Captain deemed it necessary to withdraw, as did the Oceanykan commander, as his cruiser also appeared to have taken some hits from the Petar I.

After the brief, 30 minute engagement, a roll call was ordered, and it appeared that 3 men had died, and 4 were injured, including his friend, Lt. Savyc. He swore revenge on the Oceanykan navy, and sent a message stating Broke off from engagement, returning to Mardasia to repairs, will send report tomorrow. When the report was received by the General Staff of the Navy, they conveniently “forgot” to state that Yurizlansia fired the first shot.

[Terranihil]

Crimson Sky Defense Co.

The private military contracting company, Crimson Sky Defense Co., from Terranihil deployed 4 C-54 Skymasters carrying 350 troops, 3 Lavochkin La-5 fighters, and 3 B-45 Tornado bombers to New Caledonia; The troops landed in Nepoui, Mount Poya Republic. The contractors are led by Arick Gewehr, a former Terranihil Army Colonel. Oceanyka hired these contractors to defend New Caledonia from Mardasian forces. Although it is a small force, the contractors are well trained and experienced soldiers who are eager to shed some blood since they haven't been in a gun fight for a while. The troops plan on staying in Nepoui until Mardasian forces make a move so that the contractors and Oceanian soldiers can coordinate. More soldiers and weapons are available if Oceanyka will pay the price.

[Oceanyka]

NORTH OF NORFOLK ISLAND
MARCH, 1961
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"Sire, fire in fuel storage 12!"

Riktdonii had never seen such a majestic dance in the waters. The enemy ship, presumably Mardasian-allied, had opened fire for no apparent reason. It was probably the jolly roger that caused the aggression, although the unusually good hardware should have been a clue as to the origin of this particular ship. A Farenday Pirate Navy vessel, a Danae-class light cruiser quite common throughout the seas, was his lady. Fine ship, with a near perfect match found in the more modern, but less experienced enemy vessel. After absorbing hits, some internal damage and seemingly an excellent critical hit the rival vessel sailed away at full speed. The three six inch L/45 cannon batteries had seen use with the years of raiding but never before did the Captain have the need to order a full broadside at full speed. His heart was still racing.

"Send somathem crewmembahs ovah dereden! Hurry yer ass!"

At least it seemed like he had achieved a small victory. Too small, but worth something to him. Then a young sailor came.

"Leader, three brothers are dead and six are being nursed. One will not live. The fifth ammunition compartment was pierced but the fuze failed. I, I think. In the whole we sustained relatively light damage."

"Aright, thankya lidle boy. Now fock off and tellyem engine boys to get dis shite runnin"

After dispatching his orders, he instructed the communications team to contact Farenday.

"Yes, Riktdonii, how much you bringing back."

"Three dead boys ana focked ship."

"The bloody hel- ah, I forgot to tell you we're at war with the Mardasians. Article 2 and everything. Whoops."

The hell? Article 2? That's serious business.

"Ya shite-faced mothafocken cuntass kilsharye ro-"

"Shut up ya wanker, point is we work for the guv now. We still got guys running around getting dough but you ain't that lucky. Head over to Washman Port, it's got an okay drydock. Get your girl patched up and sail north."

"North?"

"With the expeditionary fleet, yes."

Ah, being sent to war after years of service and loyalty. Great reward.

"So whose focken ugly ass face do I haveda meet up dere."

"Fleet Captain Bill Wurtz. He's bringing a heavy, three lights, seven destroyers, twelve corvettes, five boomboats, a frigate and some speedboats. Dinghies, too. You're included in those so don't take long."

"Yah yah fock off, out."

Great, more work. "At leest I'll git a culd one foh mahself a port" he thought.

ONE HEAVY CRUISER, THREE LIGHT CRUISERS, SEVEN DESTROYERS, TWELVE CORVETTES AND FIVE MISSILE BOATS MOVE IN AS REINFORCEMENTS.
THESE ARE ALL THE NAVAL REINFORCEMENTS THEY ARE WILLING TO GIVE.

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THE JUNGLES NEAR YATO TOWN
MARCH, 1961
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"What the hell is going on?"

Gunfire was rattling over the radio endlessly. Nothing ordinary by any means. Skirmishes were not uncommon at all, but what was on the other side of the device sounded like a full blown war.

"Th- they're here! Some kind of soldiers! They came from the sea and they're blasting our asses! Get the fuck over he-"

A crack, another crack, a splash and a thump.
Nothing ordinary, the hunter thought. To let the radio broadcast was extremely dangerous on it's own, but what those men were facing must be on an entirely different scale.

"Brothers, we move to the town. Something terrible is happening."

"What about the snake?"

A snake was a simple way to put it. Luckily the situation would probably make that monster move. Towards the fire.

"The beast will be defeated when we see the events at Yato Town. Move!"

The ten perfectly camouflaged men stoop up and began running with their massive rifles towards the village. Surely others would have been contacted too. Nothing ordinary at all.

FISHERMEN FROM THE YATO RIVER ARE NOW AWARE OF THE INVASION. THEY WILL SKIRMISH WITH MARDASIAN TROOPS.
A TITANOBOA IS MOVING WITH CURIOSITY TOWARDS THE TOWN.

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YATO TOWN
MARCH, 1961
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"What the hell is going on?"

He could barely hear his neighbour over the radio. Between the supersonic cracking of the opposing hail of bullets and his own 7.62mm NATO Bren Gun's clanking, the radio's sound was almost undetectable. From the jungle patches dozens, if not hundreds of men were moving out and firing towards the defending village. There was no chance, no possibility of survival. But his wife and children were with the others, running away or evacuating in trucks. Some stayed, most actually. But he could not take chances, not with something of this size.

"Th- they're here! Some kind of soldiers! They came from the sea and they're blasting our asses! Get the fuck over he-"

Plop, an insect bite in the cheek. The bite became that of a rabid dog and then that of a crocodile, one that had ripped a good part of right cheek off. The wound was not mortal, probably, but it did leave him crying and immobile in the floor of his home. But he stood up and grabbed the machinegun by the handle. If he'd die he would do so in honour for family, clan and count-

Plop, an insect bit him in the neck.

THE COASTAL YATO TOWN WILL FALL IN LESS THAN ONE HOUR, MANY CIVILIANS LEFT IN THE AREAS BUT OTHERS EVACUATED. MOST MEN AND BOYS OVER 14 WILL BE DEAD.

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FAYAOUE ISLAND
MARCH, 1961
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"Oi, the hell you mean you got shot?"

"I swear by my mum captain, some foreign ship just started going at it with us. Heaven's miracle we survived. Had the same flag from the boat we snatched last ti-"

The big-looking Frenchman got up and began yelling nonsense at the poor man, with a pistol to his head.

"*incomprehensible australo-french speech* ya wanker, don't you know those faggots at the Council decided to declare WAR on them?!?" Are you stupid?!? Hollow in the head?!? Mind if I put something in there?!?"

The poor scrawny-looking sailor could do nothing but be afraid, and left the office practically sprinting. The officer picked up a radio and began talking. Loudspeakers all over the island broadcast his deep, roughed-up voice.

"This is your captain speaking you cunts, it appears those idiotic Mardasians have begun patrolling MY waters. As per your contract for operating in this island and nearby waters, you are to follow Article 2. Just go and shoot some of them so the Council doesn't kick us out. Out."

Taverns began rejoicing and popular songs were being chanted. "War! War! War! War!"
After half a minute of celebration and chanting, the doors of taverns, hotels, warehouses, homes, gambling dens, slave houses, brothels, stores and offices burst out with testosterone-and-alcohol-filled men in dirty rags with booze still in hand. It was a race to refuel and rearm and be the first to claim the booty of war. Weapons and ammunitions were at a price peak these days after all.

FAYAOUE ISLAND PIRATES WILL HARASS THE MARDASIAN NAVY, ATTEMPT TO BOARD SHIPS AND PERFORM RAIDS ON COASTAL OR NEAR COASTAL SUPPLY CACHES/ROUTES.
FEEL FREE TO HUNT THEM OFF.

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NOUMEAN SENATE
MARCH, 1961
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"So it is clear that the situation is out of control. But the most rational course of action would be to negotiate outside of the Council's eye, would it no-?"

"SHUT THE FOCK UP YE FUCKING PANSY ASS QUASI-DIPLOMAHT. I saeh we bringem de fight! Mobaylise the clans! WAR! WAR! WAR!"

"Can't we just fortify the city? Who cares about what's outside?"

Democracy is hard because the bickering is endless, day after day the Senates of the world waste days, weeks and months talking about the most insignificant of issues. If it is controversial enough, many years can be expected. One man once said "this sure would be easier if it was a dictatorship". Or did he? Did someone say that? Probably. Someone will, eventually. Luckily this isn't a democracy for the time being.

"SILENCE! BY MY COMMAND AS KING YOU WILL OBEY ME!"

Then silence came.

"So what's the plan, king?"

What an unexpected question. frankly the sovereign had no idea. During "peace" he had as much say in affairs as everyone else, but right now he had emergency powers. Yet he didn't know what to do with them.

"What the hell? You got all big and mighty but you got no idea of what to do? Why do we even have a king?"

Oh, he stepped on the line. Determination filled the veins of the royal after that insult to his divine claim.

"Choose to believe what you wish. I don't care. I only care about the great issue at hand: our people are under siege by the great forces of the world. But we will not stand here, yelling at each other, any more! Decisive action must be taken! And as king I will lead you by the front, in the middle of the charge and the middle of the assault. So rally the New Caledonians, because tomorrow WE MARCH FOR WAR!"

What the hell? Where did that come from? Regardless, the senate burst into cheers and chants of glory and pride. "Long live Noumea, long live the King and long live Oceanyka!". The pointless bickering of democracy had been stopped and a real plan of action was being formulated in the great white building of the senate.

"Contact the pirates and the kings, the presidents and the dictators, the warchiefs and the priests. All must honour their duty to Oceanyka!"

THE DISJOINTED STATES OF NEW CALEDONIA ARE AWARE OF THE INVASION AND PREPARING.
THE NORTHERN STATES REMAIN UNCONVINCED, BUT SOUTHERNERS ARE VERY AWARE.
THE MERCENARIES FROM THE CRIMSON SKY CORPORATION, ARE MOVING SOUTH. TERRANIHIL NOW CONTROLS THESE TROOPS AND MAY ROLEPLAY WITH THEM.

[Terranihil]

Crimson Sky Defense Co. HQ - Vilnius, Terranihil

Spieler Wohlhabend, CEO of Crimson Sky Defense Co, was looking over the latest foreign imports in his large, expensive office when his secretary walked in.
"Sir, the C-54 Spymaster successfully delivered the fuel and ammunition to Nepoui, New Caledonia. And the money for our services have been transferred by the City of Cestlep and the Oceanian Council."
"Good. This will solidify our trade relations with Oceanyka. Maybe someday when we're in trouble they'll help. What of our men."
"Our planes are about 15 km away Noumea and are ready to provide support to the Noumean forces who are approaching the invaders. But our ground forces are still over 100 km away from Noumea. They're having trouble navigating through the jungle."
"Well lets hope the Noumean forces aren't strong enough to take down Mardasia's troops."
"Sir? But we're supporting Oceanyka." The secretary was puzzled by her employers remark.
"Yes, but if Oceanyka wins too quickly, they won't need our services anymore, and we won't make any more money."

Air Group - About 10 km from Noumea

" Seargent, This is Mudfish. Our squad is about 10 klicks from Noumea. Over."
"Copy that Mudfish, we're trailing about 2 klicks, Over."
"Copy, we'll land and fuel up in the airport before we engage the Tangos, Over"
"Copy, looks like our grunts are lolligagging 100 clicks north, Over"
"Copy, Over n' Out"

Ground Battalion - 7 km from Farino/100 km from Noumea

"Lieutenant Colonel"
"What is it Major?"
"Where bout 7 Klicks from Farino, sir"
"I don't see shit Major. Whats in Farino?"
"Uh.. Uh.."
"Nothin, God damnit! Just more an' more fuckin jungle. Tell me when we're 7 klicks from the damn Mardasians."
"Yes sir"

[Thessalonikei]

Chancellor Augustine Erstene announces Thessalonkan response to New Caledonian War

In a speech outside Cercoa House earlier this morning, the Chancellor Augustine Erstene anounced the governments response to the New Caledonian war that is currently taking place in the Pacific over the Island of New Caledonia. He said that the Empire has no intentions on wasting millions of treis in order to fight over a tiny chunk of land in the middle of the largest sea on earth. He pointed out that Thessalonikei has never had major presence in the Pacific it would be a waist of time moving half the foreign fleet from the Atlantic. Although it was thought for some time that the empire would join its great ally and neighbour Yurislavia on Mardasia's side, today the Chancellor has confirmed that Thessalonikei will stay neutral in his opinion this 'pointless and money eating' conflict.

[Mardasia]

Off The Coast of New Caledonia
One Hour Before The Invasion

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Men,

Today we invade New Caledonia

Today is the day, the day where we finally show Oceanyka we aren't a small, weak, nation with a Kiwi on its flag.

Today we show them what we can do, what we fight for, what we are made of.

Today marks the beginning of a new era, an era where we stand up for our island and protect it.

Today we fight for Mardasia

~Mark Caldwell, Commander of the Invasion force

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Kiwi Beachhead
East of Yato Town

"Major Townsend, they're retreating!"

"Aye, the invasion's been a success"

From a nearby radio: "Townsend take your men and secure the town. Your orders from Cadwell are as follows: Defend the town, once there setup positions to defend and handout supplies to any civilians you find.

"Alright! You heard the radio, move out!"

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1st Armoured Platoon
Yato Town

"God, its hot in here"

"Suck it up, Private. You'll be out of here in a second. We just need to get in position on the north road."

"Hey, Eddy you think they even have tanks?"

"Shit the closest thing they probably have is a jeep with some fridge doors on it"

In the distance gunfire can be heard from a skirmish outside of town

"Shouldn't we go provide fire support?"

"Nah its nothing our boys can't handle. We've just got to watch out for the mercs"

"Mercs?"

"Yeah the Terranihils they're our biggest threat right now"

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The MNS Wellington
Southwest of La Roche

"Captain we have just recieved orders from the Ministry"

"Out with it"

"Our mission is to provide aid to La Roche. In the form of fire support if the take the Ministry's offer"

"What's the offer?"

"They didn't say sir"

"Well go find out, boy!"

After a few minutes of radio chatter from the MInistry of Foreign Affairs. The offer is finally revealed.

"Sir the offer"

"Yes?"

"The Ministry has made a deal with La Roche. In the deal we will provide support for them in exchange for recognition by the government"

"WE ARE WORKING WITH THE BASTARDS NOW!

The Mardasian government has chosen to support the island of LA Roche

[Oceanyka]

YATE TOWN AND OUTSKIRTS
MARCH, 1961
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The gunfire in the city had partially ceased. Many men lay dead inside their homes or behind crude cover. However there were ten men inside a building planning their last stand.

"Brother, what is our plan." The voice of the young hunter was nervous and agitated.
"Our plan is to move at night and skirmish in day. You see those tanks? They've got their commanders out when there's no combat. That's for better visibility. Shoot their eyes out."
"What about the infantry sire?"
"Try to shoot the ones with the shiniest uniforms."
"Oi sire, wegitting communicationes with dem other huntars."

The old man picked up the radio and began talking.

"Yes, what is it?"
"You appear to be trapped brother."
"Fuck off. You're the guys hunting the shitsnake right?"
"Affirmative."
"Alright, hear me out: That gigantic motherfucker is gonna start hunting these guys at night, and it's gonna get shot, so forget about it. You see the tanks wooving around? Shoot the big wheels on the front. They're called sprocket wheels and it will get their mechanics to go nuts. You see the smaller tanks that look like big cars with guns? They're lightly armoured, shoot the sides. Got me? Good, now go."

MEN IN YATO TOWN WILL SUFFER ATTRITION UNTIL THE TEN SNIPERS ARE HUNTED OUT
TEN HUNTERS WITH ANTI TANK RIFLES BEGIN HARRASSING ARMOURED VEHICLES
THERE'S A TITANOBOA HUNTING NEAR YATO TOWN, COMES OUT AT NIGHT

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SKIES OF THE YATE RIVER
MARCH, 1961
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"Woah, who are those guys?"
"Mercenaries from some place called Konratopia. Real helpful fellows. I'll try to contact them."
BzzzZZZZzzzzt
"Yes, comrade? How may we serve you?"
"You're a godsend mate. Your orders are to follow us?"
"Correct."
"Alright, great. Look, we're gonna attack the Mardasian army in Yato. Our Stukas will bomb the enemy armoured vehicles with one ton bombs and then strafe the infantry with 20mm MG151 high explosive justice. Our Aircobras will patrol the nearby area and prevent enemy air reinforcements. I need your Lavochkins to attack the enemy anti air with those tiny hundred kilo bombs and then rip their asses off with more 20mm justice. Clear the fuck off the sea because they've got ships with heavier AA, but I do need your B-45s to try and bomb them. At the very least you'll spook them real good. Got it?"
"So we get the dangerous missions?"
"Fuck off, you get paid at least the triple I do."
"Understood comrade. Out."

TROOPS IN YATO ARE BEING ATTACKED BY A FEW AIR SQUADRONS
SHIPS NEAR YATO ARE BEING ATTACKED BY HALF A DOZEN BOMBERS

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YATE BAY
MARCH, 1961
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"The sun is down brother. Let us go."
"Aye. Irauli, stort di engine willya?"

The black dinghy slowly trailed through the sea headed towards the place with the action. At the turn of the corner, some lights were seen.

"You see that sire?"
"Thatsta fucken destroyah. Boot the size. Right Irauli, tayke us toward that ship aye?"

Like a snake in the sand, the tiny boat with five men stealthily moved towards the ship.

"Closa nuff. Fiyah."

The five men began shooting disposable RPG-2 rocket launchers at the broadside of the ship. Less than half a minute after, small arms and autocannon fire began pouring out of the warship.

"Mothafucka! Git us outta 'ere!"

The small boat's engine began roaring as it zipped through the waves, until a line of 20mm fire hit it directly.
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NEAR THE YATE LAKE
MARCH, 1961
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"Sire, we gun get dere yet?'
"Shut up private."

The drive through the jungles was hard. Harder was to contain the excitement of the men, who had not seen serious combat in over 4 months and were eager to fight. Many old trucks, some from the Great War era,
drove through the crude roads of New Caledonia. Multiple planes passed directly above them.

"Them airbois?"
"Yes, that's the airforce."

Just the lieutenant got a couple dozen sips of his Whisky canteen, a young lad began speaking.

"Leader! Will we get reinforcements?"
"Eh? What? Oh, maybe. God knows really. Probably."
"What about the cannonmen behind us?"
"Oh, the artillery? Yeah that's as much as we're getting for now. The others shouldn't take that long though."

THE NOUMEAN INFANTRY REGIMENT AND DUMBEA'S ARTILLERY WILL ARRIVE IN ONE TURN.

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Are you finding this a little slow paced? Me too, once the bigger units arrive we'll start simplifying things.

[Imperial French Territories]

22 mai 1961
About 100 KM from the coast of Noumea

The Lafayette, the only French battleship to survive the Second World War, sat idly by as the destroyers continued their analysis of the New Caledonian coastline in the midnight darkness. 3 cruisers sat similarly to the battleship, resting but still alert. It was a small fleet, to be sure, but it was still a strong one that no pirate would attack without heavy support. Across the water sat the small city of Numea, the first target of the French in the war. A recon team had already been sent to investigate alongside the northeastern limits of the city, and had just radioed in a few minutes ago that all was clear. Most crewmembers aboard the Lafayette besides the ones on duty were asleep, but one man stood on the upper deck, staring at the city whilst smoking a cigar. The man was General Charles de Gaulle, the man in charge of all French forces involved in the war. He could not sleep, partially because he was still adjusting to the time difference, and mostly because he couldn't stop thinking about the daunting task ahead of him. It was an interesting game Coty, the President of France and de Gaulle's main rival in the next election, was playing, sending him to New Caledonia. De Gaulle had to admit that he couldn't exactly campaign while on the other side of the world leading a military invasion. No doubt Coty intended to use this as a chance to control him, as he was Chef des Armées and therefore could keep him under control. Then again, de Gaulle thought with a smile, the revolutionary government thought they could do the same with Napoleon. He then frowned, looking at his radio that had appeared to be blocked. That meant that he could no longer directly contact the recon team on the island. Still, the recon team had just sent the all-clear sign a few minutes ago, and if something was going wrong they would shoot a signal flare.
"I'm getting too old for this merde" muttered the 71-year-old general, staring at the vast island again as he thought once more of the daunting task of conquering the island that he must complete before he could return to his beloved France. Just as he was about to turn around and head back to his bunk, he noticed something odd. What he had thought was the soft buzzing of insects or some other creature started to sound more and more like gunfire. He then heard a blast coming from what sounded to be an artillery gun. He jumped up, looking with his binoculars at the area the recon team was supposed to be just to see a red flare shoot up: enemy troops. He swore, running across the deck to alert someone, realizing as he ran that the artillery boom didn't come from the area that the flare came from. He kept running up the deck of the Lafayette frantically, yelling and swearing at men to get to battle stations, but it was too late. An artillery shell coming from Noumea blasted into the side of the deck, causing a small fire and blocking de Gaulle's path. Running the other way to the officer's quarters, the deck was rocked again by an artillery blast, rocking the whole ship and knocking de Gaulle to the ground. Trying desperately to stand, de Gaulle leaned up against an intact peace of deck. He pulled himself up, looking over the deck for only a split second before a third blast made a direct hit against the hull right above where de Gaulle was. The explosion sucked the air out of his lungs immediately and the general blacked out.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Around the Northeast perimeter of the city of Noumea

"Merde!"
The reconnaissance team had been doing great just a few minutes ago. Spying on the city, checking the vehicles entering and exiting, gathering data unnoticed, and sending the data to the fleet by radio. It was only when Lt. Lambert decided to move up a little closer did everything go to shit. At first, he thought he was still unnoticed. In reality, the townsfolk were busy arming themselves for the invasion they knew was coming once the ships were visible. The recon team was noticed a day before, so the militias decided not to attack them until they had the capabilities to disconnect their radios. Once they did, Lt. Lambert had the misfortune to be the first captured by angry Oceanykan militiamen. Now the militia had the recon team pinned down, forcing them to dig into the ground and hold their position trench-warfare style.
"Merde!"
"They have us by the balls, Sarge!"
"Shut up imbécile! I'm trying to think!"
"It's only a matter of time before they decide to charge us all at once and then we're done fo-"
"I know that branleur! Don't yell that at them!"
"We can't retreat now, they'll mow us down!"
"FERME TA GUEULE, MON DIEW!" screamed Sg. Blanc, fed up with the situation. "SOMEBODY GET THAT FLARE AND SHOOT IT INTO THE SKY!"
"But sir, if we fire the flare, the enemy will know we're here-"
"THEY ALREADY KNOW WE'RE HERE, STUPIDE FILS DE PUTE!" SHOOT THAT FUCKING FLARE SO THE SHIP KNOWS TOO!"
"Oh, of course sir, I'll get on that."
Moments later, the sky glowed with red and the fleet started to mobilize. The milita moved back, either to prepare for another attack or to begin building defenses for the town. Sg. Blanc breathed, feeling that the worst was over. Unfortunately, Pr. Boyer had to speak to him again.
"What do you want now?"
"Sir, it's the fleet. You need to see this."
Sg. Blanc looked out at the sea just to see the Lafayette take heavy damage from coastal artillery in the town.
"Merde."
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

About 100 KM from the coast of Noumea

"Sir! General's down!"
"Merde! How's the ship?" said Colonel Pierre de la Serre.
"She's taking a little water, but if we can get her around those cliffs we can escape the barrage from those artillery and try to repair her."
"Do that then. And get those men on the guns, let's see if those artillery guns can take as much damage as they can dish out."
The ships fired back, not sure if they hit their targets or not. Meanwhile, the fleet started heading for the area of St. Louis, where they could protect the ships under cover from a cliff and land their troops. They carried de Gaulle to a medical tent, where he regained consciousness but was still too weak to move too much.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The French have landed in New Caledonia near Noumea, opening up a second front. De Gaulle's condition had left him incapacitated for the time being. The recon team is still on the outskirts of Noumea, dug into trenches and planning to fight defensively until the rest of the military arrives.

[Terranihil]

Ground Battalion- Noumea

"Lieutenant Colonel, we've finally arrived at Noumea, sir"

"Yes, I can see that Major"

As the battalion marched through the main street of Noumea, a Noumean soldier with a look of fear on his face ran towards the Lieutenant Colonal.

"Sir! sir! We're bein' attacked from the east!" said the soldier as he tripped over himself.

Lieutenant Colonel grabbed the soldier by his uniform. "But how? The Mardasian forces are still far in the east coast."

"There flying the French flag, Sir!"

"Fuck me!" He tossed the soldier forward and turned around to face his troops. "Listen up boys! We've got tangos in the east flying the French colors. Now if you want your paycheck we better annihilate these motherfuckers. Alright?"

"Alright!" The soldiers yelled in enthusiasm.

"Go bring me one of em' alive so he can cook us some crepes."

The mercenaries have engaged the French troops alongside Noumean forces.

Air Group- Yate Town

"Sergeant Cliffhanger. This is Mudfish. We've just received orders to bomb the Mardasian ships. And your supposta wreck their AA guns in the town. Over."

"Roger that Mudfish. We'll tear their asses open."

Terranihil bombers have engaged the Mardasian fleet, while the fighter jets attack the AA guns in Yate Town.

[Mardasia]

The Defense of Yate Town
Yate Town
Late March

---

The small town of Yate has once again been attacked but this time by the Oceanykan's and Terranihils. Oceanykan trucks are arriving from the west, both nations air forces attack from the sky while trained marksman aim for "the ones with the shiniest uniforms".

"Sir, they're coming from the west!" Shouts a young private acting as a messanger
"I can see that Private. Inform the tanks to shoot at all vehicles they see"
Just then anti-air fire began from the MNS Auckland and Kiwi.
"It's the Terranihils!".
One of the nearby commanders began to radio for air support.
"This is Lieutenant Johnson. I'm calling from Yate. We ne-"
Suddenly the Lieutenant was dead from a marksman in the woods.
The Oceanykan counter-attack had begun.

Several hours later...

As the gunfire started to die down. Soldiers were taking in what had just happened and what effect it had on them.
"Rogers! What are our losses?"
"34 rifleman, 8 tank crewmen, and 2 tanks"
"Have we gotten any reports from the ships"
"No Sir"
"Alright radio Norfolk. Tell 'em to send in close air support on the forest."
"What for sir?"
"Flush out the snipers and anything else in there"

----------------------------------
I know it's short. I'm going to catch up to the current status in the war ASAP

[Mardasia]

Norfolk Air Force Base
Late March 1961

"Sir we just got a call from Yate. They need CAS immediately."
"Go tell the Support Squadron to prepare for takeoff"
"Yes Sir"
Moments later the base quickly want from silent to a cacophony of shouting and planes preparing to take off. The support squadron flying old WWII-era Me-410 with better bomb carrying capabilities toke off immediately for Yate town. Each was carrying four 500kg HE bombs and four planes were carrying one 100kg incendiary bomb.

Later that day...

"This is Green leader we are nearing the target. Prepare for bombing runs. Drop incendiaries on the third and final run. Keep away from the town those are friendlies"
After completing their mission at Yate they encountered little resistance.

-----------------------------
The forests near Yate have been lit ablaze

---------------------------------------------
Devonport Naval Base
April 1961

"Captain, we have new orders from HQ. We are to meet up with the fleet in New Caledonia along side the MNS Nelson."
"What do they need subs for?"
"Something about pirates"
"Ahh I always hated those pirates. The raided my hometown when I was a young boy."
"Right Sir. They want us to move out by May"

-----------------------------
Two submarines are heading toward New Caledonia to help deal with pirates

---------------------------------------------
Yate Town
Late May 1961

With the fire nearly out and Yate successfully defended General Caldwell is preparing to move the troops to different fronts.
"General, the French have made landfall."
"Finally, Where?"
'St. Louis, Sir, a small town outside of Noumea"
"Good, lets send some troops to help out."
"That's the problem Sir. They dont want any."
"Well, they're going to get it anyway. Its our war not theirs. Gather the battalion and platoon heads"
"Yes, sir"

Later...

"Congrats on defending the place men, but that doesn't mean its over. I've decided to move some of you to different fronts. Maori battalion you're going to La Roche, 1st infantry and armoured you're going to aid the French in Noumea, 2nd Infantry and half of the 3rd are going to invaded Ile des Pins, and finally the rest of the 3rd and the 2nd armoured are satying to guard the town. Everyone understand?"
"Yes, Sir"
"Good, transports arrive in the morning"

-----------------------------
Mardasian forces are moving to their respective positions

[Deutschenreiche]

August 1, 1961
08:00, Over Farenday Island
Dark 1-1; Lustreitkräfte Focke-Wulf Fw-05 High Altitude Reconnaissance Aircraft

Hauptmann (Captain) Adalhard Weber of the Lustreitkräfte (Air Force) orbited nearly seventy-thousand feet above Farenday Islands, home of the Pirates of Farenday. The Focke-Wulf Fw-05 flew high enough to avoid any counter-measures the Pirates of Farenday may have. Hauptmann Weber saw no reason for the appearance above the island, surely they were just pesky pirates, no match for the Imperial German Armed Forces. But, this mission had been ordered from the upper echelon of the Imperial Ministry of Defence, the Foreign Minister himself and was priority number one operation. The Captain's observing is to locate two possible 'uber-dreadnoughts', as the Farenday Pirates call them, said to be under construction. Hauptmann Weber flipped two switches to open the 'camera-bay' doors and finally turn on the large and powerful camera. He began to move the three lenses attached to the camera to capture photographs of the entire island. The island's relatively small size allowed the reconnaissance aircraft to capture it in its entirety with ease. Hauptmann Weber switched off the camera and closed the 'camera-bay' doors. The Captain left 'Farenday Airspace' just as quickly as he entered it.

GERMAN INTELLIGENCE HAS AQUIRED PHOTOGRAPHS OF TWO 'UBER-DREADNOUGHTS' UNDER CONSTRUCTION BY THE PIRATES OF FARENDAY

Imperial Ministry of Defence

CLASSIFIED INTELLIGENCE REPORT

Date of Report: August 3, 1961

A Focke-Wulf Fw-05 High Altitude Reconnaissance Aircraft captured several photographs confirming an outside intelligence leak about the Pirates of Farenday. Two large 'uber-dreadnought' vessels were observed by the Fw-05's camera as being under construction. The vessels are easily one thousand feet in length and could easily possess an overwhelming array of armaments. The external intelligence leak declared the Pirates of Farenday are constructing such vessels to attempt countering German Naval supremacy. Their range is said to be heightened to allow for long range raids in Africa and possibly the North Pacific. Although the Pirates of Farenday don't pose a serious risk to the well-being of the German Empire, they could delegitamize the strength of the Kaiserliche Marine (Imperial German Navy) and the security of the colonies. Therefor, direct action against the Pirates of Farenday is advised to end the threat before it even begins. A combination of U-boats, guided missile strikes from surface combatants and aerial assets from aircraft carriers would devastate the Pirates of Farenday Navy. German losses would be minimal and the reward of ending the largest piracy faction in the Pacific would be appropriate for the prestige of the Kaiserliche Marine (Imperial German Navy). Don't let complacency take this battle, act.

Vizeadmiral Adolf von Falk,
Kaiserliche Marine

GERMAN LEADERSHIP STRONGLY CONSIDERS INTERVENTION AGAINST THE PIRATES OF FARENDAY

[Oceanyka]

NOUMEA COASTAL ARTILLERY EMPLACEMENT
MARCH 1961
--------------------------------------------------

The dead and wounded were being retired from the nearby area, a house had been leveled and the reinforced concrete emplacement was cracked and leaking water from the piping.

"It looks like none penetrated the mantle itself sire."

"Might as well have, look at Franco over there. He's torn to shit by the concrete he thought was protecting him. Kyrgyz too. Talma is still here, but only to scream in agony."

"I mean, yeah, but a good majority of us are still live and kicking! We're like cockroaches sir!"

"Being knee deep in shit and living in fucked up debris are part of being a soldier, so I have to agree with that analogy."

Only one round had hit the flat area behind the gun, three hit the bunker and two the water. What a degree of accuracy! Fortunately the gun suffered minimal damage and could still fire without too much accuracy losses.

"Radio that shit's hit the coast. Foreign soldiers are already moving out. I think we look pretty dead. What's next sir?"

"Mmmh. Alright, aim the gun at the beach."

"Not at the big fucking ship ready to blow us out from practically point blank range as soon as it realises we're still alive?"

"We're not hitting the deck at this distance. Fuck that belt. Bring me five charges and five shells, then tell everyone else to go home. We're gonna fire at the beach. If we make it we're gonna meet up with you at the 3rd street's cafe. A suicide mission? Maybe, but my kids live in Central and there's no way in hell I'm letting them get that far."

NOUMEAN COASTAL ARTILLERY IS FIRING AT THE ENTRENCHED FRENCH TROOPS

--------------------------------------------------

OUTSKIRTS OF NOUMEA
MARCH 1961
--------------------------------------------------

"Holy mother of Jesus! Are those French uniforms?"

"Aye, looks like we've royally pissed off everybody on this blue rock of shit."

The Noumean Police Department was doing reconnaissance to see the extent of the situation. No soldier was left in the city, except for the Terranihils, who were engagng the French at the coast.

"Alright. Boy, call the Mayor and hand over the radio."

BzzzZZZZttt "...tenant, what is your report?"

"The frogs are entrenched in the beach. They heavily outnumber the Terranihils and outgun the citizens having a blast over there. They've got tanks and some artillery pieces, too."

"Great. Then I will tell the population to stay in their homes."

"What? Why? If we mobilise we can easily get them!"

"The Middle Towns' infantry will soon arrive from the West. Several armoured units are also coming."

"What about our men on the East? And the militias, they'll get slaughtered!"

"My advisors tell me this will be just enough to keep the French at bay. And our soldiers can manage."

But that can't be it. The Middle Towns haven't been on too friendly terms with Noumea. Farino neither. Leave it to a politician to worry more about politics than the troops in wartime.

THE POPULATION OF NOUMEA WILL REMAIN AT HOME
THE MIDDLE MILITIAS AND THE ARMOURED CORPS WILL SUPPORT THE TERANIHILS

--------------------------------------------------

JUNGLES NEAR YATE TOWN
MARCH 1961
--------------------------------------------------

"Third company! What's your situation!"

"We're very much fucked captain! They brought fucking tanks. We're running out of RPGs and I don't think we hit them even once. Please, let us move into the jungle!"

The situation near Yate Town was terrible. Outnumbered and outgunned, the Noumean Regiment was fighting a quickly dissolving assault. The local marksmen had suffered casualties due to recent bombing runs, and both fighter squadrons couldn't intercept the enemy attackers due to the surprise. News of the French invasion had arrived and no reinforcements were expected from the west.

"Sire! Sire! News!"

"Come on, shoot."

"The men from Bouloupari are coming in through the north. The Riders too!"

"A flanking maneuver I see! Third company, go back into the jungle. Bartholomew, tell the artillery to open up with all they've got. Everyone, we're defending this god damned stretch of green!"
THE NOUMEAN INFANTRY REGIMENT IS DEFENDING THE JUNGLES WEST OF YATE TOWN
THE AIR FORCE WILL BE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR FUTURE AIR STRIKES
SMALL AMOUNTS OF REINFORCEMENTS ARRIVE FROM THE NORTH
THE YATE SHARPSHOOTERS HAVE TAKEN CASUALTIES

[Imperial French Territories]

juin 1961
Recon Team Trenches near Noumea

"Get your head down!"
"But sir, the mercs are retreating!
"I SAID GET DO-"
Sg. Blanc didn't get to finish his sentence before the coastal artillery hit the trench, blasting blood, mud, and shrapnel through the air.
"Merde! We're pinned down, our radios don't work, our asses are getting shot by snipers, and now the artillery is firing at us! If backup doesn't arrive soon, we're more than fucked! We're, uhhhhhhh, really fucked! Where is the goddamn Lafayette going? What the fuck is going on?"
"Sir, snipers are preparing for another round!"
"Throw grenades over there and get down!"
"No good sir, our covers been nearly all blown away by those artillery guns, we're sitting du-" The corporal didn't get to finish his sentence before a sniper's bullet blasted through his head.
"Well merde sarge, we're done for. I'm firing the surrender flare, backup's not coming." The man then went to grab his flare gun before Sg. Blanc smacked it out of his hands.
"I WILL NOT STAND ANOTHER DEFEAT! FOR TOO LONG HAVE THE FRENCH BEEN MOCKED FOR SURRENDERING, EVER SINCE WATERLOO, AND WE'RE NOT GOING TO GIVE ONE MINOR VICTORY TO THESE CRIMINAL BASTARDS! NOW GRAB A SHOVEL AND DIG IN! THE CAVALRY WILL COME!" The soldiers listened in horror, then began to follow his orders given their other options. Sure enough, their faith was rewarded, for they only had to live through a few more minutes of hell before French artillery fired into the snipers, forcing them back.
"Yeah, dégage you filthy dogs, let's get em!" yelled the men of the 35th infantry division coming to reinforce the decimated recon squad.
"Thank Dieu you've arrived, but we're not out of trouble yet. The Oceanykans have been building up a force, they're expected to arrive soon, we need to build barricades. And they've got one of our men, an officer, and he's not exactly the best when it comes to keeping his trap shut when threatened. Alright men, VIVA LA FRANCE!"
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

French base camp, St. Louis

"Sirs, de Gaulle's awake!"
"Excellent, you 3 give him a recent intelligence briefing, then we'll make a plan for the next phase of attack." Commandant Phillipe Orleans dismissed the remaining men in the tent, then began to sit and think. So far, the plan had not been going so well. The battleship was effectively incapacitated by a couple of lucky artillery shots somehow, the recon team was noticed and attacked in full force, and the commanding general of the entire operation was knocked unconscious by a rogue artillery shot. He had to give it to the artillerymen of Noumea, they were damn good shots. Either way, something big had to change quickly if Noumea was going to fall soon. Finally, the medical staff and intelligence agents left de Gaulles's tent. It was time for the meeting.
"So basically, we're fucked."
"Um, sir, I wouldn't exactly say that, I mean-"
"First things first. Those artillery pieces have to go. Send over the cruisers and deal with them completely. Now, both the Oceanykans and the mercs are fully aware of our presence and are blocking off our invasion route to Noumea. That means we need to get creative, and when I thin creatively, I think of the Bérets Verts." The officers in the tent all knew how "creative" the Bérets Verts could be. After the communist revolution, theBérets Verts were reformed to be less of a special military force and more of stealthy agents that were also unstoppable killing machines.
"Sir, with all due respect, are you sure that-"
"Yes, I'm sure. Although the recon and intelligence teams were caught, they did manage to learn some valuable information. One part of it is that the citizens of Noumea are being asked to stay in their homes. The other part is that there are some important government officials still in the city, including-" de Gaulle paused. "The Noumean King. So, we send in the Spec. Ops boys, some disguised as townspeople, others disguised as mercenaries, and we wait for the right time to capture the entire government. Oldest trick in the book, but no one expects it since it's so risky." Before the other officers could react, a young private ran into the room, panting.
"Sorry to interrupt sirs, but the Mardasians are here, and they're getting sick of waiting."
French reinforcements have arrived at the battlesite outside of Noumea. Charles de Gaulle has mostly recovered while he hatches a risky plan to take Noumea while meeting with the Mardasians. French cruisers are bombarding Noumea, targeting the artillery guns but hitting everything around them.

[Terranihil]

Ground Battalion- Noumea

"Keep firing boys! We're droppin' em like flies!" yelled captain Schulz. The snipers had been picking out the French troops with little casualties. And with panic ensuing after the Noumean artillery began firing at the troops, the French were easy targets.

After several successful rounds from the snipers, lieutenant Nowak approached Schulz. "Captain, they're digging trenches. They'll have good cover from us."

"No matter, lieutenant. We'll still have the advantage over em." Just as he said that, a tank round collided several meters away from him, hitting a camped sniper and spraying dirt every where.

"It's the French tanks!" screamed one of the soldiers.

"Fall back!" ordered Schulz. The snipers began retreating as several artillery rounds were fired at them. "We'll regroup with the Oceanykans!"

The other infantry forces have fallen into a similar predicament with French troops largely out numbering the mercenaries.

The ground battalion has received casualties and is regrouping with the Oceanykan artillery

Air Group- Yate

"Cliffhanger, come in. This is Mudfish. The Mardasian ships have opened fire. We've managed to drop a few bombs, but we've been mostly unsuccessful. And we've lost three bombers. I'm calling in a retreat."

"Mudfish, my team has managed to take out some tanks and infantry, but the forests all around the village are on fire. It was a bombing run. I'd say any Oceanykans in there are gonners."

"Alright then, we'll follow you back."

The bombers have received casualties and they are now returning to Noumea

[Oceanyka]

As of now we are in the month of JUNE.

THE CORAL SEA
JUNE, 1961
--------------------------------------------------

-Captain Wurtz, would you look at that! It's New Caledonia!
-Aye, at last we're here. It's been a rough journey from Farenday but it seems we've made it.
-Jolly good! Sire, can we stop over at Poum for some poon and ale?

A most interesting proposition. After various delays and a bit of side-job-raiding the fleet had finally arrived and the men needed some sort of release from the harsh life at sea. The city of Poum would be a most excellent site to increase the morale of the men. BUT.

-Nay! Discipline goes first in MY fleet! We're going straight into the fire, and if you need a bit of a rest you can kindly fuck off from my boat or fuck the cooks and drink from the reserve. Jane is mine though.
-Oh come on sire, they're really mad and won't let us even get close! Kurgetz tried to be too forceful and ain't a man no more! Those girls are crazy with knives!
-I don't care. Comms, try to communicate with the mainland.
-Aye sire!

After what felt like an eternity the city was now at their east, and they kept sailing south towards Noumea.

-Alright sire, they're on the line.
-Bill Wurtz of the First Expeditionary Fleet here. What's the situation over there.
-Fucking nightmare I'm telling you. We're outnumbered and outgunned. If my men have hope, it's you.
-Something less poetic and more useful?
-Go fuck yourself too. Right, there's a bunch of French warships right trying to flush us out from the seas.
-Right, in that case hold your ground and enjoy the show. We'll be with you after we're done here.
-Thanks mate, owe you one.

Not a difficult situation by any means. This was a large fleet with rather advanced weapons systems like Komar missile boats and several well-kept warships. The crews were experienced and well-trained.
And so they sailed towards the besieged city.
BILL WURTZ' FLEET APPROACHES NOUMEA

--------------------------------------------------

NOUMEA
JUNE, 1961
--------------------------------------------------

By the time night arrived things were a bit more quiet. Fortunately Frenchmen seemed more inclined to digging and holding their holes rather than charging forward, which would have been a most dangerous situation. The regiment's colonel, however, did detect an anomaly: no more fire came into the beaches.

-Radio, get me in contact with the battery.
-Didn't you hear, sire? The men ran away. Many died.
-Stop shitting with me corporal, what the fuck are those cruisers firing at and what was firing at those trenches?
-Men say it's the ghosts of the dead artillerymen, I say a bunch of suicidal grunts just got peppered. Either way that place is shredded.

So the battery was done for. Their greatest single asset had done it's job at least three times over and would now rest in hell.

-Wait. Sire, look! Tanks!
-Shit, they broke through us? Call the third AT platoon, we need-!
-No, our own! Over there in the 5th avenue!

Truly, a column of Renault tanks was riding down accompanies by a mass of infantrymen. A lot of them. Some with crude pieces of armour welded in, others carrying a howitzer, others slowly dragging a disproportionate anti tank gun, and others boasting a ridiculous amount of machineguns in place of a cannon. A circus of freaks destined to meet their perfect ideals in mere hours or minutes. A most ironic situation where the Renault tank could be the downfall of the French forces with enough luck and a few miracles. Some kilometers away another column travelled like a herd: large, buff and aesthetically pleasing tanks rode down the streets. The pride of Farino. Small, fast, tough like a tortoise and with a gun to punch through anything. The T-44/100.

-Are those things real?
-Yeah, looks like heaven's watching out for us.

THE COASTAL DEFENCES OF NOUMEA HAVE FALLEN
SEVERAL ARMOURED PLATOONS WILL ATTACK THE FRENCH LINES
THE MIDDLE MILITIAS WILL ENGAGE ON THE FRONTLINE

--------------------------------------------------

YATE JUNGLES
JUNE, 1961
--------------------------------------------------

-Look, at the other side of the river!

Surely there were many little dots and puffs of smoke. Reinforcements had arrived from the north and survival might be a real possibility now. The Mardasians were now on the defensive, but no progress was expected to be made forward. They still had many armoured units to aid their now outnumbered infantry. Most air units were gone now, too. The jungles had been an excellent choice, for they were excellent cover for this skirmish operations.

-Any additional orders sire?
-What, you getting bored of this roleplay?
-Frankly no sire, but I think Mardasia's mad because we never post shite.
-Nah, we'll let them take the initiative boy! Hold this jungle!

REINFORCEMENTS ARRIVE FROM THE NORTH
ALL AIR UNITS HAVE RETIRED

[Deutschenreiche]

September 3, 1961
07:15, Cam Ranh Naval Station, Cam Ranh Bay, Vietnam
Home of the German Asia-Pacific Fleet

Cam Ranh Bay was a beautiful site, it is location of the finest deep water port in the Pacific and the home of Germany's largest foward-deployed fleet. Cam Ranh Bay was bustling, like always, but Cam Ranh Naval Station was abnormally active. German warships, six destroyers and four cruisers precisely, began preparations to set sail. Above all, the SMS Henning von Holtzendorff, Germany's first nuclear-powered supercarrier, also made preparations to sail with the other warships. The warships are a part of the III Carrier Squadron, one of three such squadrons located within the Asia-Pacific Fleet. Their mission was classified and while the sudden deployment surprised the personnel of the base, they knew better than to foolishly ask questions.

Admiral Hubert Schmundt, a warhero of both Weltkriegs and acting Commander of the German Asia-Pacific Fleet, studied the orders he received from High Command. Admiral Schmundt's days of commanding a squadron are over, but his battlefield experience proved valuable for the Kaiserliche Marine and that resulted in his posting here. Dubbed 'Operation Krake', the seasoned Admiral had already sent the directive down the chain of command and knew with confidence the order was being followed. The III Carrier Squadron was to link up with the II & III Expeditionary Squadrons in German New Guinea before heading towards Farenday Islands, home of the 'legendary' Pirates of Farenday. It is also his understanding that a regiment of Germany's elite Sturmtruppen, or Stormtroopers, will deploy alongside the Seebataillone to provide a highly-maneuverable asset on the battlefield. Admiral Schmundt knows the power Germany holds, but he is still rather concerned. The Farenday Pirates are irregular and could prove to cause a massive headache for the German Armed Forces. Hopefully, the German execute this operation well and coldly. Germany's international prestige relies on their success at Farenday

GERMANY MOVES TO STRIKE THE PIRATES OF FARENDAY

[Mardasia]

Isle of La Roche
June 1961

The Maori Battalion has arrived in the city of La Roche
"Welcome to La Roche Comrades"
"Thank you. Who's your CO and where can I find him?"
"Who? General Levy? He's at the Aerodrome"
"Thank you. Men I don't care what you do right now as long as you listen to your NCOs and stay in town. Lieutenants Akarana and Natana with me we're going to talk to the general."
Upon arriving at the Aerodrom Lt. Col. Enoka noticed that the La Rochen Air Force was severely lacking and consisted of 3 biplanes from the interwar period.
"General Levy"
"Yes"
"I'm Lt. Col Enoka CO of the Maori Battalion from Mardasia"
"Great"
"General Cladwell has noticed your nations previous conflicts with Lifou"
"What of 'em"
"He's proposed an invasion of the island and is asking for your help. I assume your aware of your governments deal?"
"I am."
"We would like to go over the plans with you"
--------------------------------------------------------
THE MAORI BATTALION IS PREPARING TO INVADE LIFOU WITH LA ROCHE

---------------------------------------------
Coast of Île des Pins
June 1961

The 6th Infantry Battalion and 2nd Infantry Regiment are preparing to invade Île des Pins at Gadji.
"Colonel our ships have srrived to support the invasion if needed"
"Excellent tell them to standby for fire support"
"Yes, Sir"
"Also ensure that the plans for the invasion reach our NCOs""
"Yes, Sir"
"Lieutenant your orders from the Colonel are as fallows: We are to invade the island at Gadji where we will then move to secure the airfeid. Afterwards the regiment will split up and sweep the island for any enemies."
"Got it"
--------------------------------------------------------
MARDASIAN FORCES WILL INVADE ÎLES DES PINS SHORTLY

---------------------------------------------
Yate Town
June 1961

"Sergeant Greenland, come here."
"Yes, sir?"
"I want you to take a force of 20 men into the jungle."
"Sir? That's a suicide mission"
"You may think so but we have to get those snipers off our back. I want you to gather your men and flank the marksmen from the north side of the jungle by the pharmacy. Typical sweep and clear."
"Can we have any armored support?"
"We can't spare any tanks right now but we might have a free APC"
"Yes, sir. I'll gather my men and move ASAP"
"Sergeant, don't get yourself killed. Good luck"
"Thanks, sir"
--------------------------------------------------------
A SMALL FORCE OF 20 MEN ARE SWEEPING THE JUNGLE FOR ENEMY TROOPS

---------------------------------------------
Coast of Île des Pins, MNS Northland
June 1961

"Captain, we've arrived."
The MNS Northland and its sister the MNS Southland are former German Type-IX submarines bought sometime after the Second World War.
"Radio the Auckland"
"This is the MNS Auckland what's your status?"
"Hello Auckland this is Captain Brown I need to speak with your Captain."
"Yes sir"
"This is Captain Pearce"
"Hey Richie looks like we finally get to fulfill our dream"
Captain Richard Pearce and Captain Gordon Brown both grew up in the same seaside village on the west coast of Mardasia. After an attack by Oceanykan pirates devastated their village and fatally injured Brown's the two of them vowed that the would one day avenge their village and fight the Oceanykans.
"Gordon? I haven't seen you since back in the coast guard days. It's been a while"
"Yeah it has we'll catch up later what's the word"
"Right now we are supporting an Invasion against some pirates"
"Then we are two regroup with the others near La Roche to hunt some more pirates"
"Excellant"
--------------------------------------------------------
MARDASIAN SUBMARINES HAVE ARRIVED AND ARE PREPARING TO HUNT PIRATES

[Imperial French Territories]

juillet 1961
French Trenches outside of Noumea

"Yeah! Run ya cowardly salauds! Back behind your mother's blouse!"
The mercs had been falling back for hours as the French saw no signs of reinforcements.
"At this point, we won't even need those Mardasian guys, these fools can't hold a single foot!"
Sg. Blanc allowed himself a rare smile as his men pushed through the jungle. These men they were fighting were mere mercenaries, when the battlefield started to look dangerous they would scurry off like rats until they found a new sniping nest. The Oceanykan numbers were few as well, and without tanks or artillery of their own, they could not stand for long against the French.
"Sir! They've passed over that hill! Shall we follow them?"
Just as Sg. Blanc was about to issue an order, the hills began to explode.
"They've got tanks! Hold your ground!"
The Oceanykans apparently got their hands on some new toys, and they were eager to try them out.
"Maintain lines! They're a disorderly mess, our discipline will triumph! Show them how a true soldier defeats a foe!"
As the French prepared for what seemed to be a final stand, Mardasian troops arrived, making the battle between all 4 combatants, the battle that would decide the fate of Noumea and in that regard the fate of New Caledonia.

French base camp, St. Louis

"Well don't just stand there, let them it!"
De Gaulle stood as two Mardasian officers entered the tent.
"Gentleman, welcome to our humble abode in hell. As you can see, our troops are engaged with the enemy on the outside of Noumea, and it would be helpful if your troops joined them. As we speak, we are conducting a different kind of operation however. Our reports indicate that the Noumean government and King have not evacuated yet, meaning that we can capture them before they flee if we act carefully. We have disguised 50 of our elite troops as Alvimian mercenaries, who will be moved into Noumea to capture the government and force a surrender."
After some more discussion and planning, the Mardasian officers left. Later on, an intelligence agent arrived to deliver new data.
"Sir, spies along the West Coast have spied Terranihill fuel imports coming in from a line of coast near Mount Poya."
"Sounds like something for the remaining Bérets Verts to take care of, eh?"
"You would think so sir, but uh... there's another issue. The pirate Bill Wurtz has assembled a fleet, and it's heading for our position."
De Gaulle thought for a while, then finally asked "How's the Lafayette doing?"
"Well sir, the hull's been patched up and she's basically ready for combat.
"I think you know where I'm going with this. Assemble the fleet!"

Noumea

"There's no way this is gonna work. Charles is off his rocker."
"Little late for that now, isn't it? Quiet, here come some locals, remember, only speak Portuguese or broken English."
These troops were part of the Bérets Verts group that was smuggled into Noumea. Trained in French Guiana, they were mostly fluent in Portuguese due to the many Alvimians that lived in the territory, which was very helpful as in this mission they would be disguised as Alvimian mercenaries.
"Hey! Who are you muthafuca- don't make me shoot!"
In a thick Alvimian accent, the first one began to speak:
"We are mer- mer- mercendairyies from Alvimia, we told French may attack from coast, we protect your leaders."
"The fuck? Did we order any- ah, for fucks sake, come with me then."

Bérets Verts forces within Mount Poya territory

"So basically, that one transport dropped us off here in unknown territory and we're supposed to camp out until fuel ships come, then blow them up with our heavy weaponry or capture them?"
"Uh, oui. Basically."
"Oh, alright then."

French Fleet, off the coast of Northern Confederation territory

"Admiral, we've spotted them!"
At last, the fleet of Bill Wurtz emerged in the sunset.
"Damn it, I was hoping we would find them earlier in the day, staring at them at this angle is making the sun a deadly laser. Never mind that now, to battle stations! Let's send those bastards down to hell!"
French and Mardasian forces have engaged the Oceanykans and the Terranihills outside of Noumea, while special forces inside the city work to capture the leadership or at least keep them from fleeing. Other special ops forces move to disable fuel and weaponry ships in the north while the French fleet moves to engage Bill Wurtz.

[Terranihil]

Ground Battalion- Noumea

The surviving mercenaries regrouped with Noumean forces. They were exhausted and injured, but Captain Schulz hoped that regrouping with the Noumean forces would boost their morale.
"Captain! Over 50 have deserted! They said the paycheck isn't worth fighting this war." reported Lieutenant Nowak.
"It doesn't matter, boy. Its all or nothing. We either kill them all, or we get killed!" replied Schulz.
The mercenaries joined into the ranks of the Noumeans and prepared for battle.
Several Mercenaries have deserted, but the remaining soldiers are preparing for battle

Air Group- Eastern Outskirts of Noumea

"This is Mudfish. We're about 25 kilometers from the airport."
"Roger that" replied Cliffhanger.
"Wait. Those are Mardasian tanks down there!"
"Alright then get ready to engage!"
Remaining air forces are preparing to engage French and Mardasian forces on the front line

Ammunition and Fuel Transports- 1 km from Nepoui

Three ships docked at Nepoui. The SS Geltona, 120m long British-built fuel tanker from 1922 carrying oil, the SS Kugel, a 100m long Soviet-built Cargo ship carrying ammunition, weapons, and food, and the Blutroot, a WWII flower-class corvette armed with a 102mm bow gun and a 2-punder anti-air gun and carrying 80 mercenaries. The ships passed by the French fleet, but they were at a safe distance away (45km), so they didn't expect any interference.
Mercenary transport ships have docked at Nepoui

[Oceanyka]

ILE DES PINS
JUNE, 1961
--------------------------------------------------

"What are those, Mardasians?"
"Real Mardasians? Like Crazy Wodjak?"
"Aye. Get down kid, they might see you."

The hunting party of a man and his son lay watching the Mardasian forces, under the cover of what little vegetation the island had.

"Oi dad, the mastmaster's meeting with the fancy dressed one."
"Aye, no gunfire either. What's going on?"

The officer shook the mastmaster's hand and turned around scanning the area. After a good five minutes he made visual contact with the pair of natives and began walking towards them unarmed. Even though it must be a gesture of peace, the old man held dear his SKS prepared to blow his head out at the slightest feeling of hostility.

"Bonjour. Abandonne tes bras, oui?"
"We don't speak frog around here anymore."
"Only the top man does? Bummer. Really like the language, thought you all spoke it. Please surrender your arms, this island is now occupied by the Republic of Mardasia."

Backed up by a squad of riflemen the officer was more menacing than he seemed. The man got up, pulled his son with him and threw both rifles at the feet of the Mardasian.

"Have some civility."
"Fuck off. Come on kid, let's go fishing or something."
Ile des Pins has surrendered with no resistance.

--------------------------------------------------

OUTSKIRTS OF YATE TOWN
JUNE, 1961
--------------------------------------------------

"It's cold. And moldy."
"At least yours looks edible, fucking hell. Captain!"
"What do you want?"
"Can we go foraging for fruits? Our rations look no different from the bodies over at their side."
"Sure, go forage some fruits. See if you get shot or eaten alive by something on the way."

The regiment's men laughed at the poor private. Because the highland jungle was dividing their sector from the town, most of the time they spent entrenched behind in an open plain. The jungle had become a skirmish site because no side could advance. Tanks got easily stuck and ambushed, infantry pushes were met with entrenched machineguns and barbed wire. On the north side the reinforcements had been pushed back out of tank gun range and occasionally sent skirmishing parties. Air activity was of low intensity. Artillery fire was exchanged occasionally between both sides of the green hill.

"Any chance we've got of pushing through."
"None. Zero. Don't even ask about it or you're going first if we're ordered to do so."
The Noumean Regiment is stuck in trench warfare outside Yate Town.

--------------------------------------------------

LIFOU
JUNE, 1961
--------------------------------------------------

Over the horizon small ships sailed closer and closer to the isle. Some larger ships were mixed between them.

"Oi, that's a large ass fleet."
"Pirates you reckon?"
"Dumbass, those fuckers at La Roche backstabbed the nation for some petty revenge. Wankers gonna have a nice one when we win this war."

Inside the hut the radio buzzed.

"Outpost 4, do you copy?"
"Aye."
"Confirm reports of an approaching hostile fleet."
"Doesn't look like ours, that's for sure."
"Roger that. Stay put and defend your location."
"Aye, aye. Out."

No more than a minute afterwards sirens disturbed the peace of the small island and many columns of men marching at fast pace moved through the small dirt roads. The outpost had quite the view of a large portion of the island, so the men looked like little ants.

"That the first company?"
"Aye. Don't think they have much time to prepare, those wankers are closing in fast."

Pulling a Bren Gun and a scoped Mosin Nagant from an old wooden cabinet, the outpost commander turned around once more to face his one and only subordinate.

"You know, coincidentially, this concrete fucker has a ton of ammunition. Also coincidentially those guys are gonna smash right into us. And I'm no coward."
"Sir, are you insane? We should retreat with the Company!"
"My father and my father's father prepared me for the moment those La Roche wankers would invade our homeland. I'm going nowhere and I'm gonna send the devil a fuck ton of packaged mail."
The men at Lifou will defend against a Mardasian/La Rochean attack.

--------------------------------------------------

NOUMEA
JUNE, 1961
--------------------------------------------------

"Fifth platoon, target on your ten o' clock! Fourth platoon, get your ass back he~ shit! Gunner, 120 degrees north! About 500 meters I reckon!"

Noumea was being demolished by fighting. With reinforcements, the advantage in numbers and infrastructure of the defenders had been equalized by the even higher numbers and better support of the attackers. Terranihil mercenaries were deserting and losses were beginning to take a toll on the defenders. The line could be held forever, but the enemy would not be pushed back. Off in the distance the French ships fired at the horizon, and shells came back at them. Seemed the French were heavily outnumbered in the sea, but their battleship was a large advantage. No ships were in torpedo range yet and what little anti ship missiles were fired at it missed, with one bouncing off the heavily angled armour.

"Looks like we're stuck here. Any word of the Noumean Regiment?"
"They're in the exact same shithole of a situation as us. Colour me surprised."
"But we've got armour?"
"Yeah, but armour's good for nothing when the dumbass in charge decides armour is nothing but armoured artillery. Like big metal pillboxes of shit."
"Hey, sergeant, you heard the new? The capital's getting fucked over."
"Yeah I noticed because I'm being fucked over with it."
"No sir, the capital of capitals. Cestlep. Some weird things going on there. The presi's dead too."
"None of my concern. Oi, look up, is that a French raiding party? Machinegunner, wait for my mark!"
The forces at Noumea are stuck in the defence.

--------------------------------------------------

CESTLEP
JUNE, 1961
--------------------------------------------------

"President... Badfellow... We can't do that."
"Why not? Uncle Thomas said that was the best solution."
"Yes, but publicly we need to keep that island. The best solutions sometimes really aren't the most practical."
"What's a big turd in the ocean for us? We've got good old Australia here."
"New Caledonia is a strategic position. This means we can use it for many things."
"Nah, it's useless. Foreign minister, who do I call to end this already?"
"I refuze to call dem forignerz. We ain't surrendereing."
"You what? It's a fucking order, unless you want Johnny here to shoot your brains off on top of the table."

Seeing the big guard caress his pistol, minister Torkoz felt threatened and called someone over one of the room's phones.

"We'll gon get a call tomorrrrrow."
The Council of Oceanyka wishes to begin talks of peace with Mardasia and France.


-
Into the future, after the war.
-

--------------------------------------------------

FAR OFF, FARENDAY ISLAND
SEPTEMBER, 1961
--------------------------------------------------

"FPN Lumpy Boy, do you copy?"

Silence was the only answer the communications officer in Farenday got.

"FPN Bombman, do you see Lumpy Boy? Over."
"A... Aye. It's smoked up. A big fucking plane came in and rocketed his ass into hell. I think I saw a grey cross on it for a split second. We're hiding behind a rock formation."
"Bombman. Do not attempt to escape or fall into panic. Can you give me a better detail of the situation?"
"Y... yeah. Alright, we're moving forwards slowly. Okay, I see... some ships. Doesn't look like they see me. Very spread out, ought to be recon. Alright, umm... they've got a jerry flag on them."

Terrible news.

"Bombman. Do not engage. Attempt to surrender, you've got no chance there."
"Sir, my brother was in that boat. I promised we'd go together. Gunner, aim at their tower."
"Bombman. I repeat. Do NOT engage, this is a direct order from Farenday HQ~"

Through the radio several light howitzer shots were heard. In the open seas a small boat of a dozen sailors began firing at the destroyer, unaware of their presence but much larger. "We hit him, he's flaming up!" was the last chant of the captain before several bursts of automatic fire and a large explosion cut the radio signal off.

"Looks like we're in the shit show now."
Farenday HQ is aware that German forces are approaching the island of Farenday and are now attempting to prepare.

[Mardasia]

Xodie, Lifou
June 1961

"God damn it! We need to take out that damn bunker!"
"Sir! I'll radio the ships and see if they can hit it!"
"You better fucking hurry before we're all dead!"

A few minutes later the Wellington and destroyers aimed their guns toward the bunkers and fired a full salvo reducing the bunker to mere rubble.

"Thank God! Good thinking Private. Now lets get moving towards the other villages."
"We're heading up the road to Kejeny stay alert."
--------------------------------------------------------------
MARDASIAN FORCES ARE WORKING TO SECURE THE ISLAND OF LIFOU

---------------------------------------------
Noumea
June 1961

"Sir! Enemy tank on the right!"
"Signal for the tanks!"

A group of 5 Mardasian tanks started to advance towards the enemy preparing to destroy any enemy vehicles.

"Hey Johnny have you heard?"
"Heard what?"
"Cestlep the Oceanykan capital is getting messed up."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean there are riots in the street and their President's dead!"
"Shit maybe the war will be over soon"
"Maybe, but focus on those mgs!"

---------------------------------------------
Auckland
June 1961

"Prime Minister!"
"What?"
"You have a call from the Oceanykans. They want peace!"
"Really?! Put me on the line. Hello? This is Prime Minister Howard Jones."

After several heated conversations with both President Bedfellow and the Foreign Minister both nations have agreed upon in armistice.

"Tommy call the papers I have an announcement to make."
"Of course sir"

[Oceanyka]

CESTLEP
JUNE, 1961
--------------------------------------------------

H-hello? Is this the Mardasian president?"

The adolescent voice couldn't be older than 15 or 16, almost like a cruel joke.

"Umm... That islands has nothing anyways, so I guess we'll do an... Incontional?~ Oh, unconditional surrender of the island. It's your problem now!"
"And, huh, I guess you can share it with the French. I guess a lot of people speak French there. Do whatever you want with the people there too. Bye!"

Surely it had to be a joke. A child had offered unconditional surrender of a strategic asset while victory was a possibility for the New Caledonian forces. But the authority of the Oceanykan Council is supreme and the men were tired and demoralised. Many rioted and attempted to return to the war, so infighting continued for a few months. Bill Wurtz was furious about the ordeal and had to be restrained for a full week before giving the order to sail back. But for a good part of the island, peace had finally come. Perhaps, even, a better future under modern governments that would care for them. The French and the Mardasians were given full control of the isle for such a small price. Could it be this easy? Or could it come back to haunt them? What easy comes easy goes, a man said a long time ago.

FRENCH/MARDASIAN VICTORY

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aaaaand that's it folks see you next time on pacific jungle funtime 2: electric boogaloo