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PostPosted: Wed Apr 24, 2019 9:05 am
by Luxembourg-Bavaria

Today's the battle, but tomorrow is the war
Stefan Drake, Founder of Luxembourg-Bavaria

Today is the day, Chancellor Frederick Kasel thought. Today is the day where we begin our just fight in Nova Capile and bring the corrupt Royalists to their knees. Klaus doesn't know it yet, but today is the beginning of the end.

He took a deep breath and stepped into his war room. Right away, he heard the voices of his generals arguing among themselves.

"There is only one course of action," Major General Heinrich Krüger sneered. "The first order of business must be to relieve the pressure on Gravines. From there, we will expand out with our forces and drive the Royalist scum into the swords of their enemies! Only then will we achieve victory."

"Yes, yes. A fantastic plan Heinrich, Brigadier General Gerhard Leimann countered. "Except for one thing. The troops that the Royalists can bring to bear against us will make an offensive impossible. I agree that the first priority should be to relieve Gravines. But after the border is secured we must fight a defensive war while the other factions exhaust themselves."

Krüger started to respond but was cut off by the Chancellor.

"I believe that Mr. Leimann is on to something here. But, in the spirit of democracy we shall call a vote. All in favor of an offensive?"

Of the 14 officers in the room, 7 of them raised their hands.

"And all in favor of a defensive war?"

Again, 7 hands shot up.

Kasel shook his head.

"Once again it is up to me to break the tie. Defense it shall be. Now on to the next order of the day. How goes the mobilization."

Lieutenant General Lukas Werner stepped up. "Army Group Werner is completely ready to deploy sir! That is 250,000 troops ready to be deployed. In a week we can have another army group to deploy and another two ready in a month or so."

Chancellor Kasel smiled.

"Splendid. And what of the naval side of things?"

The only naval officer in the room, Admiral Dieter Wagner, stood up and recounted his report.

"Sir, we have the 1st Fleet ready for action. In another month we can have the 2nd Fleet on the move and the 4th Fleet nearly ready."

At this, Kasel broke out into his trademark grin. Everything was going well. The gears of war were finally moving along, and the Royalists would learn to fear the Bavarian troops.

He took a deep breath, and spoke.

"Return to your troops. General Werner, you and your men will be loading onto the 1st Fleet, which will be commanded by Admiral Wagner. You will sail to Nova Capile. From there you will unload at Gravines, and relieve the pressure there. Am I understood?"

Both officers snapped off a crisp salute and spoke in unison.

"Yes sir!"

At this, they all filed out of the room, leaving the Chancellor alone. Today will be remembered as a glorious day for all Luxembourg-Bavaria, he thought to himself. He walked over to his desk and typed up a letter to the French.


From the Office of the Chancellor

To: Premier Jean-Paul Charleroi
From: Chancellor Frederick Kasel


We have been made aware of the struggle in Nova Capile. As a fellow socialist republic, we can sympathize with your cause. Luxembourg-Bavaria feels the pain of your struggle. We too, were the underdogs in the civil war that birthed our country. As such, we are compelled to aid you in any and all ways possible.

Personally, I believe that your cause is just and that you need help to survive. The people of my country believe the same. We are behind you 100% of the way, from the beginning to the end, whatever that end may be.

The Bavarian Armed Forces number 850,000 regular troops. Additionally, as we posses nearly all of Central Europe, it is possible to conscript another 100,000-150,000 troops, if they are needed. I am offering your nation the full support of this army, as well as any economic aid you may require. As of now, we have a large force en route to Gravines, in anticipation of your acceptance.

I will await your response with much enthusiasm. I trust you to make the best possible decision for your people and your cause.

In good faith,

Chancellor Frederick Kasel of Luxembourg-Bavaria

Army Composition(for ORBAT)

Army Group Werner:
Commanded by Lieutenant General Lukas Werner
250,000 troops (elite infantry)
1 tank division (30 tanks)
5 mobile artillery batteries (10 guns per battery)
Objective: Secure Gravines and defend French border

1st Fleet:
Commanded by Fleet Admiral Dieter Wagner
5 Kasel-class heavy cruisers (15,000 tons each)
4 Drake-class light cruisers (12,500 tons each)
10 Freedom-class destroyers (9,200 tons each)
2 Artheria-class nuclear aircraft carrier (100,000 tons)
Various patrol boats and support ships
Objective: Secure Gravines and support Free French forces on land

PostPosted: Thu Apr 25, 2019 11:45 am
by Vrijstaat Limburg
Lieutenant-Colonel (Luitenant-Kolonel) Carl Joseph "Sjuppie" Schöppner
a few kilometres from Steighof Airbase, Republic of Saatland
10:43 AM local time


"Euh, joa. LIF C-130 Beta erbitted, euh, landeanflug?"

Lieutenant-colonel Schöppner had been in the cockpit ever since the crew on the aeroplane had gotten into language difficulties with the Saatlandian ground crews. He was one of the few high-ranking German officers in corps, but he was respected, and the German stereotypes of discipline and seriousness had re-affirmed themselves in his person. As "Major Schöppner" of the 1. Füsilier-kompanie, the first German-speaking company of the Limburgs military, he was initially seen as an outsider, but his heroic actions at Neimegen caused him to earn several Limburgs military awards. He believed that this country treated him well, and that he was appointed to lead the Limburgs-Saatlandian Defence Group because of his merits.

Nothing could have been more wrong: The appointment of the first German commanding officer to a foreign military mission was a political one. Bovens felt pressure coming from the international community, and he felt that, if he could send a German abroad to fight for freedom and democracy, he could regain trust and respect from the nations around him. Goossens, the commander of the Free Limburgs Legion, had appointed Schöppner as head of the expedition, although he himself wanted to go.

Schöppner snapped up and looked at the pilot.

"Geef me dat kloteding, vriend." (Give me that fucking thing, bud.) he said, in his sharp and obstinate German accent. The pilot looked surprised, and decided to hand the lieutenant-colonel the headset.

"Hier spricht Oberstleutnant Carl Schöppner der limburgisch-saatländischen Wehrgruppe. Wiederhole: Hier spricht Oberstleutnant Schöppner der LSDG. Wir haben hier 5 Lockheed Charlie-hundertdreiziger die landen möchten. In namen der Republikanischen limburgischen Luftwaffe erbitte ich die Landesgenehmigung auf einer ihren Luftstreifen."

(This is Lieutenant-colonel Carl Schöppner of the Limburgian-Saatlandian defence group speaking. Repeating: This is Lieutenant-colonel Carl Schöppner of the LDSG. We've got five Lockheed Charlie-one-thirties that would like to land. I am requesting the permission to land on one of your air strips In the name of the Republican Limburgian Air Force.)

Schöppner looked at the pilot with an annoyed expression. It felt like he had to do everything by himself. He patiently awaited a response from the air controllers at the Steighof air base.

PostPosted: Sun Apr 28, 2019 9:57 pm
by First American Empire
Imperial Encampment

"I demand to know who you are and why you have a hundred thousand soldiers camped out in my city! Take me to your leader at once," yelled Reiburg's mayor, a short yet muscular man named Sebastian König. The gate guards looked at each other, confused. Surely the foreign ministry wouldn't be dysfunctional enough to have sent the Expeditionary Force to Reiburg without notification. Surely. Lieutenant Hudson called the General Dietrich on the phone. "General, the mayor of Reiburg is asking to see you. He has no idea who we are or why we're here."

"How doesn't he know? Is he an imposter? Foreign Minister Chomsky should have sent the letters to leading officials in the Royalist and Socialist governments by now."

"Chomsky died while we were transporting our troops through the tunnel."

General Dietrich swore so loudly that the other gate guards could hear her from the Command Tent. "How. Did. This Happen."

"Car crash," replied Lieutenant Hudson, "I just got the news an hour ago."

"But he was supposed to send the... Oh crap. Send the mayor in."

Mayor Sebastian König sat across from an old man with a dozen different medals pinned to his coat. This, presumably, was General Dietrich. Next to him was an old woman with a plain military uniform. He looked towards the man and asked "General Dietrich, why is there a foreign army camped out in my city?"

"I'm not General Dietrich. I'm Grigoris Tassos, the Imperial American ambassador to Nova Capile. The woman next to me is General Dietrich."

General Dietrich looked fairly amused at Mayor König's misunderstanding, and said "To answer your question, we're an expeditionary force sent by the American Empire to help fight against the Fatherland Front. The Imperial Expeditionary Force is neutral to all other sides in this conflict; it is not a threat to your city's Royalist forces. I sincerely apologize for the failure to notify you. We plan to assist Reiburg's garrison in defending the city from the VF."

"I saw your army watch and do nothing the last time Reiburg was attacked," replied Mayor König. "Why should I believe you'll actually defend it. Your troops were literally playing poker while Royalist troops fought and died to defend the city."

"We're under strict orders from our Emperor not to engage any non-fascist forces," Ambassador Tassos quickly stated. "The attack on Reiburg was done by the BSU, and we do not want any of the other factions interfering with our work to defeat the VF. We don't have the manpower to take on two separate armies at once."

General Dietrich handed Mayor König a letter. "Here are the terms of aid. Our foreign minister was supposed to have delivered these to your leaders and commanding officers, but he was unfortunately killed while our troops were in transit. Please get copies of this to as many Royalist leaders as you can."

After Mayor König left, General Dietrich turned to Tassos, gave him another letter, and said "Do you have any contacts in the BSU government? I want you to give copies of this to whoever you can. Please get this done as soon as possible."

To the leaders of the Royalists and the BSU.

I am sending an expeditionary force of 100,000 soldiers to assist you in defeating the Fatherland Front. These troops are neutral to the other five factions in Klaus' War, and are under orders to not attack any non-VF forces unless attacked first. Our objective is solely the defeat of the VF, and we do not seek to ensure the victory of any specific side.

Our forces are currently located in Reiburg, and our troops will offer military aid against any VF forces in the area. We will also offer supplies, armaments, and financial aid to any non-VF faction, under the condition that said aid will only be used against the VF. Using our aid against a non-VF faction will result in the revocation of all future aid, but is not considered an act of aggression. Requests for aid are to be sent to General Lara Dietrich, leader of the Imperial Expeditionary Force.

We also control the Reiburg Tunnel, the only way in or out of Nova Capile without naval or aerial transport, and are willing to use it to rescue as many refugees as can fit on the Reiburg Tunnel's trains. We will treat them as well as we treat our own citizens.

Signed, Emperor Norton VII, Emperor of the United States, Protector of Mexico

PostPosted: Mon Apr 29, 2019 5:35 pm
by New Decius
Hauptquartier der Abwehr
Berlin, Kingdom of Prussia, German Empire
Federation of European Monarchies

Unlike most intelligence services, which had their headquarters located in one location, the Abwehr had their’s spread out between four cities to prevent the organization being crippled by a decapitation strike on its facilities or leadership. Though it could also be that the organization had been both enlarged significantly in the past decade and also had the scope of its authority expanded significantly, that lead it to establish headquarters in Berlin, Munich, Dresden, and Stuttgart. Berlin served as the central command of the Abwehr as well as the branch charged with military intelligence, though also the Abwehr high command was located here to coordinate with the commanders of the Kommando Spezialkräfte (KSK) (Special Forces Command) for the deployment of special operations agents in coordination with Abwehr activities. Though the Abwehr technically did not have authority over the KSK, technically the OHL held command of the special forces, in recent years most of the KSK operations had been organized and overseen by the Abwehr rather than the regular military.

It was for just such a purpose that General Wilhelm Winter of the Kommando Spezialkräfte had been summoned to the office of General Johannes Platzen, Director of Abwehr Overseas Operations, for a meeting of immense importance and also immense secrecy. Winter was not told anything about the purpose of the meeting beforehand nor any details of the pending operation, though this was fairly normal in his line of work to not receive information until it was determined that he should receive it. He arrived to Platzen’s office promptly and was admitted immediately upon his arrival.

Upon Winter’s arrival, the Abwehr General wasted no time getting down to the purpose of the meeting and laid out a number of files for Winter to read through while he dove into the subject matter. “General Winter, as you no doubt are aware, for almost a year now, Her Royal Highness the Princess Elizabeth of Austria and Hungary has been missing after disappearing some time after the start of the Capilean Civil War. We have had no concrete evidence as to what happened to her until now, when that bastard Walther Nemetz sent a letter to His Imperial Majesty trying to use her as leverage to cut off our support for the Royalists and we now have been able to piece things together. Before this, we did have a mountain of evidence but we had no concrete connections to piece it all together, we couldn’t say for sure whether she was taken by the BSU or the VF but now with this we can piece the trail together with HUMINT reports and satellite imagery.” He turned on a monitor on his office wall that began showing satellite images of the attack on Princess Elizabeth’s motorcade and the subsequent abduction. “Putting together satellite images and adding in a number of HUMINT reports made before most of our agents in VF territory were either killed or forced underground, we were able to reconstruct the abduction from the point of attack near Quassdorf to her possible current location.” More images began to come up on the monitor as a clear trail began to appear. “The Austrian Diplomatic Security unit guarding her stood no chance at all against such an attack, twenty against two hundred scenario, and DS aren’t exactly trained soldiers either, their recruited from police services not the military. She was clearly drugged to make for easier transport and taken on foot to a point several kilometers away where they used a helicopter convoy to move her out of Royalist territory to a point near Landrath where they transferred to a group of trucks and headed North. From there we pieced together the satellite imagery of the time and it formed a trail leading straight to Colditz.” By this time General Winter had read through all the files and examined all the data thoroughly, already gaming out a potential extraction in his mind. There were several glaring obstacles however.

“Colditz is as this moment far too heavily fortified, we’ll never be able to insert a team within the city itself nor within about ten kilometers of the city without launching a major military operation as a cover. Usually when we conduct these sorts of extractions of nobility, diplomats, military officers, the countries holding them are third world backwaters with tech from the 1970’s and its usually terrorist groups not state actors holding them. Nemetz has access to the latest in Capilean military technology as well as the weapons we have been selling to them for a decade now, a sizable air force and a population brainwashed to see him as their supreme leader.” He opened one of the files and pointed to several clusters outside of Colditz as well as a number of other noticeable points. “There are at least three maybe four major anti-aircraft units stationed around Colditz which makes any airborne insertion unlikely, and the significant amount of checkpoints coming into the city makes an infiltration highly improbable. I can game out a scenario if absolutely necessary but it will cost us men and I would need to put significant special operations on the ground along with regular military support and I estimate losses at least fifty percent.”

Platzen nodded and pulled another file from his desk, this one was a psychiatric profile of Walther Nemetz done by Abwehr profilers. “Thats why you won’t be extracting her from Colditz itself, since we suspect Nemetz won’t be keeping her there much longer after recent events. His demands to the Kaiser stipulated that her safety depended on us turning off the spigot to the Royalists, but the opposite happened since we got hold of the letter first and gave it to Imperial Marshal Regensburg who took it to the Reichskanzler. They, along with his former Imperial Majesty Kaiser Wilhelm Augustus III, convinced His Imperial Majesty to put country before family and invoke Article 30 declaring an official state of war. Now our analysts have diagnosed Nemetz as brilliant but also sociopathic and we believe that he will not be so hospitable towards Her Royal Highness much longer. We expect he will move her out of Colditz to a location on the coast where some of the old fortresses are, intelligence reports that the VF have been using these old castles and forts abandoned for centuries or used as tourist attractions, to house political prisoners for torture and eventual execution. That is when we strike.” Now he turned to a file titled Operation Snow White, directing Winter’s attention to the finer details of the plan.

“The Luftwaffe has a Ho-349 on a runway outside Dresden, you have nine hours to assemble a complete special operations team, full tactical load out, before it takes off. One of our attack submarines, U-1073, is en route to the Capilean Northern coastline and will serve as your teams extraction route upon completion of the mission. We already have one of our agents on the ground in VF territory, he was at Saxtonburg and he is making his way towards Colditz and will inform us when they move the Princess out of the city, he will also join the team on the mission, Hauptmann Willi Dernen.” Winter raised an eyebrow at this point of an Abwehr agent being attached to one of his special operations teams. Abwehr agents were fine soldiers in their own way but their way was spycraft and stealth, not suited to a tactical assault scenario.

“Is he any good?” Winter asked as though it seemed an insult to him that any outsider should be attached to his prized KSK team.

What Platzen said though pushed away all doubts he had. “We got him from the regular army, he was at Aleppo.” That was all that needed saying. The Siege of Aleppo was one of the bloodiest battle’s in modern German military history, where for just over a month a force of about a hundred-thousand German and Italian troops were encircled by twice that many insurgents in the Syrian city of Aleppo in the Italian Levant Protectorate. The Islamic State of Iraq and Syria had laid siege to the city and at least half the defenders died in battle or from starvation by the time the Imperial German Army broke the encirclement with an armored offensive from outside the city. Any soldier who made it through Aleppo was certainly made of strong stuff indeed.

“Alright I’ll have Task Group Delta on its way to Dresden within the hour. I’m surprised to hear that its a 349 that we’ll be using, by all the reports I’ve heard the Horten Group was still in the test phase of the aircraft’s development.” The Horten Ho-349 was a new next-generation stealth transport meant to have the global deployment capabilities of a military transport alongside the stealth capabilities of a intercontinental bomber. However for months the Horten Group had been publicly bemoaning of major setbacks to the project though the project itself had been very close hold indeed so no one really could say if that was true.

“Yes the Imperial Minister for Industry is quite giddy about that propaganda campaign meant to dupe foreign intelligence services. In truth the Horten Group has already passed the test phase of development and has begun manufacturing the 349’s though given their specialization production is slow, only about a dozen have been built so far. Anyway enough of this, you have your orders, carry them out.” Winter nodded and gathered up the files, turning to leave the office when Platzen called out one last time.

“Wilhelm, the things the fascists are planning to do to her at those prisons, the tortures they have in mind, are far more horrible than any person should have to endure. Should your team be on the verge of failure and unable to extract the Princess, kill her.”

Prinz Josef Franz Airbase, German Expeditionary Force
7km North of Heussburg, Royalist Territory
Grand Duchy of Nova Capile

As per the Third Agreement of Friendship and Cooperation signed between Capile and Germany signed in 2014, the two nations were afforded the right to construct a military base on the others soil, each of these bases being constructed by the end of the year; Capile built Prinz Karl Airbase outside of Hamburg and Germany built Prinz Josef Franz Airbase outside of Heussburg. The two nations also were allowed to keep up to sixty-thousand troops (About three divisions) on the others soil as a loan force to be placed under the command of their host upon an official request, though at the time of the outbreak of the Capilean Civil War, Klaus had recalled the Capilean troops from Germany as part of his moves towards democracy while the German troops had been recalled as part of amendments to the military budget by the Reichstag. For almost a year now the formerly lively German airbase had lain bare, manned by a mere skeleton crew of Capilean technician’s using the facility to repair aircraft when possible, though no longer would that be the case.

Now once again was the base lively and filled with activity as wave after wave of German Luftwaffe airlifter transports came in for a landing on the runways of the base and began unloading the forces of what had been termed for now the Imperial German Expeditionary Force in Capile. A total of five divisions (77. Infanterie, 12. Infanterie, 45. Infanterie, 16. Panzer, and 91. Panzergrenadier) had been transported from Southern France where they had been participating in the Juniper Exercises with the Royal French Army, to Capile to assist the Royalist Forces in any way possible until the main German deployment and offensive, Case Silver, was ready and in place.

From the side of the runway, Leutnantgeneral (Lieutenant General) Johannes von Brauchwist watched as the aircraft continued to land and unload before taking off to return to Germany at a steady pace. As of the current moment only the 77. Infanterie Division had been completely transported to Capile as it would take some time, at least a day and a half, to put all 125,000 troops down and fully ready to move out depending on where the Capilean’s requested of them to go, though it was most likely that given their position, they would be asked to make an offensive on Raus. By all reports the BSU was using Raus to launch an offensive South to capture more territory and secure their position by reaching the coast, which would also allow even more outside support to flow in from maritime transport and trade. That must be prevented at any cost, there were any number of socialist groups and nations around the world who would be more than willing to provide the BSU with not only equipment and volunteers but even full military support. There were even rumors that the underground European Socialist Collective was planning to send volunteers to Capile to support the BSU, which would be very disastrous for the Royalists as that would bolster the BSU’s ranks with tens of thousands of seasoned foreign fighters from France, Germany, Russia, Spain, Italy and other European nations whom had been in hiding or fighting a domestic guerrilla war for the past two decades.

Brauchwist turned and entered the barracks behind him which was currently serving as his command center and inside which his staff officers were doing their best to organize the quartering and supply of the incoming troops though it was a monumental task. The Imperial German Military was indeed a mighty force, it had to be to maintain a colonial empire in four corners of the world and fight fascist and socialist partisans both at home and in its satellites, but as with German tradition, it was at its best with long periods of planning and preparation. This Imperial German Expeditionary Force, though certainly a strong force after all five divisions was nothing to sneeze at, was rather hastily cobbled together from units that could be most quickly be airlifted to Capile, and as it was they had been about to close the Juniper Exercises so some of the German personnel had already been en route back to Germany meaning that a good fifteen percent of the total troops under Brauchwist’s command were French troops that he had snagged from the participating French units which would damage unit cohesion slightly. Luckily he hadn’t lost any of his staff officers but it still would hurt having men whom hadn’t been serving together for any long period of time now mashed into the same units, though at least unlike sixteen years ago when Germany intervened in the French Civil War there wasn’t such a language barrier anymore, since German soldiers were required to learn basic French, Italian, Russian, English, and Spanish as were the soldiers of Germany’s European satellites.

He walked over to the conference table where his aide Oberst (Colonel) Anton Weber was going through a list of the regiments comprising the five divisions and checking off that they had either been offloaded or were still airborne en route. Setting his cap down on the table he poured himself a cup of coffee before taking a seat next to Weber to start going through some of these papers himself. ’A lucky thing this is an actual war, otherwise I’d be spending half my time filling out forms, in triplicate, to send to the Reichstag.’ In order to avoid repeats of any of the atrocities committed by the Third Reich and the First German Empire, since its inception in 1951, the Imperial German Army had endured intense oversight and regulation by both the military high command and the civilian government which had largely kept the military in line with the Geneva Convention and ensured investigation and prosecution when the line was crossed.

“Weber, have we managed to get in contact with Großmarschall Winser’s command yet? I want to let him know we’ll be ready to move out within two days and are in a prime position to put an offensive on Raus. If we move on Raus it may just take enough pressure off the Royalists that they can hold back and repulse the BSU offensive, though I dare say we would take quite a beating from the brunt of the BSU’s troops before the Royalists could organize a large enough counteroffensive.” Leutnantgeneral Brauchwist had previously served for six months as the German military attaché to Capile in 2015 and had met frequently with Großmarschall Hermann Winser and Feldmarschall Kurt Doppler for discussions of military strategy or simply on social occasions.

Weber nodded in the affirmative. “Yes Sir, we have established contact with his headquarters and they are awaiting your message along with confirmation that the Expeditionary Force has arrived.”

“Very well, I shall dictate, transmit the following:

Classified Military Transmission

From the Command of Leutnantgeneral Johannes von Brauchwist, Imperial German Expeditionary Force

To the Command of Großmarschall Hermann Winser, Chief of the Capilean General’s Staff

The five divisions promised as part of the Imperial German Expeditionary Force are in the process of arriving in Capile and will be ready within two days to begin deployment to the front. A further large scale German military deployment and offensive is currently being planned and prepared by the Oberste Heeresleitung under the title of Case Silver, but it will not be ready for execution for at least a month and a half. Given the location of Prinz Josef Franz Airbase, my forces will be in a prime position to make an offensive on the BSU-held territory around Raus which should take some pressure off the Royalist forces being hit by the Socialists offensive from Raus, however besides attack and transport helicopters I have no air compliment so I must have assurances that once I begin my offensive, my forces shall receive at least some degree of air support from Capilean forces. I shall begin in two days.

PostPosted: Mon Apr 29, 2019 8:32 pm
by The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile


"General-Secretary, I am pleased to report that all is going to plan," Marshal Novack reported, looking less red in the face than usual. The older man slumped into a chair across from Blücher, looking fatigued. His lively hazel eyes wandered around the room. The General-Secretary's office was small and quaint for a man of his position. Its walls were lined with bookshelves brimming with volumes on diplomacy, warfare, and, of course, socialism. A broad window took up almost the entirety of the wall behind Blücher's desk, throwing dazzling light into the room and revealing the mass of flat-roofed apartments and sprawling factories that was Kongsburg.

Blücher knitted his large, calloused hands together and leaned into his high-backed chair. The General-Secretary must have been somewhere between fifty and sixty; he was rather short and stout, with a round, ruddy, and clean-shaven face. Despite his rather corpulent nature, it was obvious just by looking at Terry Blücher that he possessed strength and vigor unknown to others of his age. It shone through in his booming voice, spry movements, and keen hazel eyes.

"And just what do you mean by that, comrade?" the younger man said, a smile playing at the corner of his wide mouth.

Novack smiled disinterestedly. His gray eyes sprang from one object in the General-Secretary's cluttered office to the next while he spoke. "What I mean, sir, is that the monarchists have fallen hook, line, and sinker for our little ploy. My agents within the enemy forces have informed me that their General Staff is scrambling to patch together a defense for Südhoof, pulling men away from every nearby settlement in the process."

"Excellent! And when shall you spring the trap?" Blücher reacted. He left the strategic decisions to the experts, but still expected to be informed on the revolution.

"Not yet, General-Secretary. We will wait until Operation: Anvil is in full swing before we launch General Hoffmann's attack."

"Well, that is enheartening news, comrade. And I have some for you, as well." Terry Blücher reached one hand back to scratch the ring of dark hair that circled his otherwise bald head, and with the other handed Novack a slip of paper.

"Interesting, isn't it?" Blücher pressed while the military man scanned the missive. Novack finished and looked up in concern.

"Troubling, I would say. I cannot imagine what their intentions are, but they surely cannot be good."

"I understand your concern, comrade, but I have already weighed my options. The Revolution can never have too many allies." Blücher spun in his chair and began to survey what would soon be the capital of his nation. "Thank you for your report, Marshal. You have my endorsement to launch Operation: Hammer when ready."


Captain Crommelin looked for a long time at the scrap of paper, scanning it up down with his dark, soulful eyes. At last, he waved his hand downward, and the ring of soldiers around the plane lowered their rifles with a loud, unanimous clink.

"I apologize for this, ah, unorthodox welcome, but one can never be too certain during times of war." Pierre Crommelin spoke from experience. Though a French Capilean by birth, he had served for decades in the foreign militaries around the world, and was by definition a career soldier. He had only returned to Capile a few months ago to join in the fight for French independence, a cause that he was finally willing to die for.

As the mercenaries dismounted from their antiquated plane, Crommelin realized why his country had brought them over. His brown eyes raked across the circle of soldiers who he was in command of. Boys, dressed in ill-fitting, roughly-manufactured uniforms, holding their weapons stiffly and awkwardly from inexperience. Pierre was a rarity among his comrades in that he had actually fought in battle before. The French State would badly need sterner stock when the enemy finally attacked.

"Your papers are clearly official, and I can see clearly that my nation needs men of your trade." The Frenchman's accent was even richer in person. "But I will, of course, need to clear this with my superiors. And I expect that you want payment immediately?" He had been a mercenary not too long ago, and had seen a thousand men no different than those before him now.

Turning to a gangly sentry, he spat out an order in unintelligible French and then returned to the hired gun. "Now, Mr.- eh, comrade, what is it exactly that you want to do?"

It was not very presidential, Jean-Paul Charleroi thought, to be sitting a mile underground in a dimly-lit bunker. No, a Premier was supposed to be working out of a mansion-turned governmental palace, a symbol of the prestige and might of a nation. What did that say of the French State, then, that its leader was cowering in a concrete hole?

"Mr. Premier," someone called out behind him. Charleroi swung around, turning his tall and noble form toward the newcomer. The private stopped abruptly, disarmed, as most were, by the size and majesty of the Premier. "Here you, are, sir," the young soldier stammered. "A message from Luxembourg-Bavaria."

"Thank you, my good man," Jean-Paul said, already shifting his attention to the missive. Opening the envelope, he held the message up to the dim lamp and strained his eyes to make out the neat lettering.

The dim muttering of the military officers crowding the bunker was shattered by a sudden, resounding shout. "Gentlemen," the Premier boomed, "we have our first ally!"
To: Chancellor Frederick Kasel
From: Premier Jean-Paul Charleroi


august ally of our people! You shall always have a place in our hearts for being the first nation to come to our aid in this unholy conflict.

Your honorable troops are welcome and shall be celebrated in our capital of Gravines. I personally wish them well in the coming battles against our unworthy foes.
The French State is not the most prosperous, or populous, or well-armed nation- but we have the will to triumph in this war. We have always fought and will always fight for our independence, and so you know you have picked the right and the worthy side.

I look forward to greeting your brave men when they arrive.
John Paul Charleroi


Steighof's airfield was bustling with aircraft, both military and commercial, but all repurposed for the war effort. Weapons and munitions, purchased or leased from international suppliers, were unloaded constantly from massive airliners, while local air patrols refueled at the base regularly. As such, it was difficult for the field's commander, one Colonel Hoek, to find space for the allied planes to land.

Ultimately, after much haggling, several airstrips were cleared, and the Lockheed C-130s were given permission to land at them. The five hulking airstrips descended ominously on the comparatively small airfield, casting long shadows over it. As they landed, a small delegation of local officers assembled to meet them.

A tall, rather rigid man stepped ahead of the rest, the insignia on his light-brown military uniform revealing him to be the commander of the airfield. His square jaw was set, his long face taut, and his blue eyes inflamed. He walked impatiently up to the airmen who had just disembarked from the C-130s, and shouted out to those nearest him.

"Which one of you is Lieutenant-Colonel Schöppner?" he demanded in a cold voice. "I need to see some documentation proving that your little expedition was approved by my government, and that it isn't some sort of Communistic ploy." He raised an open palm, and there was a rumble of cocking guns in the distance. From the shadows of the airfield, a phalanx of soldiers emerged, rifles pointed at the ground but ready to be raised at a moment's notice. Colonel Hoek looked around expectantly. "Well? If you don't have proper documentation, my men will have to search you and your planes- thoroughly."


The war room that, to Großmarschall Hermann Winser, had been like a second home, was now in the hands of the fascists. And so, this crowded little office would have to do.

Seated in an uncomfortably small chair at the head of the roundtable, Hermann called out for order. "So, do we have that settled? General Klerk's Air Command will support the German offensive?"

The lithe form of General Klerk emitted an "aye," and so Hermann moved on. "Make sure you coordinate with the German commander, General. Now, how goes the defense of Südhoof, Feldmarschall Zaiser?"

Heinz Zaiser bristled in discomfort. "Not well, to be honest, sir. We have already mustered as many men as possible to the defense of Haakensburg, but our intelligence on the enemy forces is lacking. It could be just a diversionary attack, or it could be the spearhead of their first offensive. We have to be prepared for the worst."

"Yes," Winser agreed, "but we must also keep all of our options open. Do not pull away too many defenses from the surrounding areas. If this is a diversionary attack, we must not be surprised by it." He turned to his other front commanders.

"Now, this setback in the East will not hinder our upcoming offensives. Operation: Cataphract will continue as planned. Feldmarschall Doppler, you will be expected to overrun Landrath and push on from there. In the best case, we will march to the sea and cut the VF in two, and from there attempt to relieve the sieges of Mühlburg and Nordlingen. Feldmarschall Hornberg, the destruction of the Pritzen pocket is paramount. And should your men still be in fighting shape, Feldmarschall Zaiser, we will crush one or both of the Communist holdouts in your domain.

"Remember, the aim of Operation: Cataphract is to destroy our most potent enemies. The Communists and Fascists must be dealt with first; after they are finished, we can turn our attention to the secessionist rabble." Winser scratched his fleshy chin thoughtfully, and then, with tremendous effort, rose from his chair, the sheet of medals on his chest clinking loudly. "Things are looking on the up and up, gentlemen. What with the German declaration of war, the American declaration of support, and the arrival of Damascus' forces in Südhoof, I daresay this war will be finished before the year is out. Dismissed."



A black car, not entirely unlike a hearse, drove almost aimlessly through the winding roads of the Capilean countryside. The thick curtain of pines occasionally gave way to a view of the ocean, cold and gray, shattering and reforming and shattering against the cliffside.

The car eventually came to a stone castle, perched on what seemed to be the very edge of the cliff. It was not a castle in the fairy tale sense, with glittering spires and towering battlements. It was mostly ruins, collapsed, moss-covered stone that was unimpressive and very melancholic. It hadn't been popular even with tourists, and so was the perfect location to hold the Fatherland Front's most hated enemies.

The black car jerked to a sudden stop before the ruin, and its driver, a black-uniformed Stoßwehr enforcer, jumped out. Immediately, four more identical men emerged from the overgrown courtyard, forming a solid square that advanced toward the car. In their center, standing out starkly from the rest because of his unimpressive height and pure white doctor's coat.

The men opened the back of the car, and carried out a slim figure. The doctor led the way back into the ruin, glancing back every few seconds at the newest prisoner. As the group marched into the courtyard, they were afforded a glimpse into the prison's inner workings. The castle itself was entirely unusable, with only a few of its squat rooms even fully enclosed. A huge trapdoor, much like a cellar entrance, dominated the center of the compound. The doctor flung its doors open to reveal a gaping black abyss, lit by dim little lamps that led far down into the Earth.

Screams, cries, and cruel shouts echoed up from the bowels of hell. The doctor escorted Princess Elizabeth into Seeburg Castle.

PostPosted: Tue Apr 30, 2019 2:29 pm
by Luxembourg-Bavaria
Capilean Coast
Near Gravines

Admiral Dieter Wagner looked around his glorious ship, the BMS Journey's End. Suddenly a cry went up from the lead ship.

"Gravines dead ahead!"

Wagner smiled to himself. Of course, they had already known that they were approaching the coast, but it was always uplifting to hear the shouts from the men when the traditional call came out. He turned around and grabbed his microphone.

"Alright men, let's make this fast. Get me Lieutenant General Werner."

A sailor close to Wagner took off running, going down into the ship. A few moments later, he came back onto the deck with Werner and a few of his staff.

Werner approached the admiral, looking a little flustered. He spoke quickly, like he wanted to be somewhere else.

"What is our first order of business, Admiral?"

"Tell your men to organize themselves on the deck of their transports right now. That way when we hit the beaches they can get off and get to Gravines as soon as possible."

Werner grinned.

"Right then, what will you do?"

"We will remain in the port for now. We may send air support towards Roappe if deemed necessary. Until an offensive towards Roappe is considered, we will aid the defense of Gravines."

"Understood. I'll signal the transports."

Werner walked off briskly, snapping out orders to his men. Wagner turned around and broke into a massive grin. This is going even better than I hoped, he thought as he walked back to the bridge. Then he turned around sharply and gave an order to one of his staff.

"To the lead ships to fly our flags high so the French know we are friends."

The aide saluted and ran off.

When Wagner reached the bridge, a radio officer handed him a headset.

"Sir, urgent message from Munich."

Baffled, Wagner put on the headset.

"Admiral Wagner here."

"Admiral, the Chancellor would like to inform you that mobilization has slowed down somewhat. Reinforcements will arrive in two more weeks, another fleet and another army group. Unless your advantage is overwhelming, do not engage in any major offensives."


"Copy, Munich out."


Army Group Werner:
Commanded by Lieutenant General Lukas Wagner
250,000 troops (elite infantry)
5 mobile artillery batteries (10 guns per battery)
Objective: Secure Gravines and defend French border
Currently moving to deploy at Gravines

1st Fleet:
Commanded by Fleet Admiral Dieter Wagner
5 Kasel-class heavy cruisers (15,000 tons each)
4 Drake-class light cruisers (12,500 tons each)
10 Freedom-class destroyers (9,200 tons each)
2 Artheria-class nuclear aircraft carrier (100,000 tons)
Various patrol boats and support ships
Objective: Secure Gravines and support Free French forces on land
Moving in the port at Gravines to assist in defense\

PS: BMS stands for Bavarian Military Ship

PostPosted: Wed May 01, 2019 5:16 pm
by Kingdom of Damascus
Haakensburg, Nova Capile
Major General Iakovos Xanthopoulos, 7th Antioch Purple Guard Brigade
July 21st, 2018, 13:00

Xanthopoulos and the platoon he was with were making a prayer. They all crossed themselves, taking their index finger, their middle finger and their thumb together and placing their ring and pinky finger diagonally onto their palm and would move their fingers from their forehead to their lower chest, from their left shoulder to their right. A Corporal would be leading the prayer, he would simply be reciting the Lord's Prayer. "Pater hêmôn ho en toes ouranoes; hagiasthêtô to onoma sou; elthetô hê basileia sou; genêthêtô to thelêma sou, hôs en ouranô, kae epi tês gês. Ton arton hêmôn ton epiousion dos hêmin sêmeron; kae aphes hêmin ta opheilêmata hêmôn, hôs kae hêmeis aphiemen toes opheiletaes hêmôn; kae mê eisenenkês hêmas eis peirasmon, alla rhysae hêmas apo tou ponerou. Hoti sou estin hê basileia kae hê dynamis kae hê doxa eis tous aeônas; amên."
"Amen." Would say the rest of the Platoon, lifting their heads and standing up.

About half an hour later, a Lieutenant would approach him and speak with him. It was First Lieutenant Kader, a man whom he trusted deeply, a devout Christian, and an old friend. "Sir, we've been given orders from the Major General himself. He's ordered us to instruct our men to assist the Capilians in throwing their defenses together."
"Good. Inform the rest of the Officers in our Brigade."
"Way ahead of you, sir."
"Tell me Lieutenant, what do you think of the state of our Brigade?"
"Well, apparently they're a bit shaken some of them. They know full well what they're getting into, and that's what worries them."
"Rally the Brigade together later. Later we can go out and do something to improve morale. After this, I mean. Hell, maybe this battle alone will improve morale. Seeing a faithless horde routed by Capilian and Damascian steel and shot."
"Maybe. Nonetheless, we may need reinforcements after this."
"We'll see after the fact. If General Ajam thinks so, then surely we will receive such reinforcements. General Ajam is wise and has his position for a reason, I trust he will make the right decision."
"Yes, sir."
"Alright, resume your duties with your Platoon."
"Yes sir."

After the conversation, Xanthopoulos would move to directly helping one of the platoons sort out some of the defenses directly. He would inform Major General Ajam that his men are steadily at work beforehand. Beyond that he did not have much paperwork to sort out. He was unsurprised, albeit still proud to find Captain Andreas doing about the same thing with his Company. Nonetheless, the sight of seeing Andreas working with his Company directly in preparing defenses brought a smile to his face. In the upcoming battle, people are going to want strong connection and trust for their leaders, and taking that time to make that bond clear now when it will be needed most.

Haakensburg, Nova Capile
Pfc. Zayd Papadopoulos, 2nd Antioch Purple Guard Brigade
July 21st, 2019, 13:00

"Keep your heads cool, your weapons loaded and ancestors in mind, and we should breeze right through this." Spoke a stern, strong voice. It was Staff Sergeant Aniketos Antoniou, his squad leader. I don't think my parents would like to know what I'm thinking right now, let alone my ancestors. Zayd thought to himself. His parents. The thought of thinking about them burned in his head, he feared for what they would think of him. He left Islam, he converted to the Eastern Orthodox Church. This was forbidden in Islam and doing so was indeed heresy. He let out a deep exhale, he merely stopped thinking about it and switched his focus to what was going on around him. He had finally arrived to the frontline. When they showed up to the front, they could visibly see just how chaotic it was. Soldiers scrambling to put up an effective defensive. Stress filled Zayd's body. He knew that war would be fast-paced, a struggle to keep up with, and intense, but would he be prepared for what is to come? It didn't matter, there was no going back now. Clearly diverting his attention didn't help him one bit. It didn't help that the environment he was in was far from like at home. He felt foreign. He was foreign. This however, would not stop him from following orders and if need be, fighting.

Shortly after arriving, the 2nd, 5th and 7th Antioch Purple Guard Brigades have received the orders to assist in the construction of defenses and have been ordered to take up defenses alongside the Capilian forces, after the Officers coordinated with them of course. Howitzers and Mortars would be set up, machine gunners would take position carrying with them their M2's and DPA-96's. Soldiers would scramble into positions and begin help throwing defenses up; barbwire, trenchlines, laying mines, whatever it was they had available to them and were told to put down with the Capilians, and wouldn't start setting up their own equipment until after they've helped the Capilians prepare for a defensive. Zayd felt the weight of his battle rifle. Twenty-four round magazines chambered in .308; a rifle that could certainly knock a man on his ass even with body armor and if no body armor, surely devastate them, a grenade launcher slung on his back chambered in 40mm, and a bayonet sheathed. He'd been trained for years to do this, yet he stood unsure of himself as to whether or not he'll be an effective soldier in what is to come. He was put on guard duty with the rest of his Fire team.

While out on patrol, he couldn't help but ask his squadmate and close friend Metaxas, "Are you ready for what's to come?" Metaxas smiled and responded, "Ready for what? Dinner? Cause if so, always. If you're referring to the upcoming battle, then I hope so." Zayd, despite his friend's optimism and friendly tone, would still remain quite anxious. He lets out an exhale. Metaxas would simply continue, "Look man, just don't worry about it. Think of it like this, Nova Capile and Damascus both have some pretty competent leaders, and they both trained us everything we need to know. We're going to breeze right through it, all we need to do is keep up and remember our training and trust in God." He'd go on, "If we do struggle to keep up, imagine how much our enemy is going to be struggling with their big, clumsy army. I doubt they even have the officers to keep up let alone manage them effectively. That is going to work easily within our favor."
"I guess you're right. Thanks, man." Zayd replied, his voice still showing signs of stress. While he was still stressed and anxious, he definitely was feeling it leave his body a bit. "Sure." Said Metaxas. It was funny to Zayd how he was so, calm in this kind of situation. They were about to take human life, they were about to face a force that far outnumbers them, yet he wasn't worried at all. If only I shared his optimism. Zayd thought to himself. Though, the conversation he had certainly helped.

Haakensburg, Nova Capile
Major General Haris Ajam, 2nd, 5th and 7th Antioch Purple Guard Brigades
July 21st, 2018, 13:00

Ajam has shown up to the frontline alongside his men. In advance, he contacted the officers behind the defensive in advance. They would most definitely like to meet with him. On his tablet, he shot an email to each of the Captains in advance, notifying them to begin setting up their own ordinance and assist the Capilians in building defenses. He further ordered some patrols and extra security to prevent an unexpected attack or enemy reconnaissance and perhaps provide the Capilians with the opportunity to conduct their own reconnaissance if they haven't already. He would approach the building where the rest of the commanders were meeting to join them in planning the next move. Time was ticking.

PostPosted: Tue May 07, 2019 8:11 pm
by The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile


A rain of shells descended on the town of Haakensburg. It was an island caught in a monsoon of fire and metal. The small gray-uniformed ants defending it were swept up and thrown down by the whirling winds, and rivers of blood ran in the storm's wake. In a zealous fervor, the communistic horde threw itself at the city. Tens of thousands of men lived, ran, and died; they were a never-ending tide of brown-clothed insects, ebbing, growing, surging, their onslaught announced by the evil whistle of artillery overhead.

The cheerful little red houses of the city groaned and buckled and, sometimes, disintegrated as big bombs fell among them. With each titanic strike, the ground shook, earth sprayed up as if from a broken faucet, and screams of anguish were cut short. In one of the sad, ruined, disintegrating houses, a handful of gray-uniformed ants sat, shivering, though it was quite hot, amongst the rubble.

With every evil whistle and titanic strike, the soldiers quivered and quaked. Their guns lay forgotten beside them, their hands clasped in prayer or cradling their legs. Only two of the walls of their sanctuary still stood, and the ceiling had nearly fallen to the ground. From across the bloodsoaked street, a lone man appeared, approaching the hideout with righteous fury. As he drew closer, his features became clearer. He was above average height, his features sharp, and his hawkish eyes blazing with energy. His dust-soaked uniform betrayed him as a Capilean infantry captain.

The officer burst into the room though it had no door. "Up, the lot of you!" he boomed, his voice somehow drowning out even the shells and the screams. At his words, the terrified insects scrambled to their feet, guns ready in their hands, fearful expressions replaced with steeliness. A pistol was clasped in his hand, and he pointed it to the sky. "We are soldiers, and we are fighting rabble! They will not best us so long as I live," the captain vowed. "Now, come on. The enemy is pressing against the city relentlessly. We must drive them back."

As if he was chaperoning a field trip of schoolboys, the officer counted the heads of his men, rushed them out into the decaying street. Together they trooped out of the range of the artillery, closer to the front. Here the buildings had given way into massive piles of junk, with soldiers burrowing in and out of them. The group ascended one of these urban hillocks, clambering over a shattered grandfather clock, a cracked bathtub, and heaps of crumbling masonry. As they crested the manmade hill their eyes beheld Haakensburg.

Beneath them, men and women in mottled brown uniforms were surging through the streets, red banners aloft and voices raised in deafening song. The Capileans could see not but a single brown mass with a thousand heads. Every mouth was hinged open, bellowing the BSU's anthem.

As the hollow melody battered them, the royalists steeled themselves. Without needing the order, a cry rose from their hearts and out of their throats. Erupting from beneath the blanket of the Communist song, their voices were one. "Für Thron und Reich!"

A few miles from Haakensburg, the Capilean generals were convening, collars loose, voices raised, and faces red.

"How did they get right on top of us?" Field Marshal Heinz Zaiser was demanding.

"I don't know, sir, but what matters is that they are, and that we need to repulse them," General Jonathan Kirstin rejoined. There was a weighty pause before Kirstin continued. "The enemy's forces have overrun all our outer defenses and are now embroiled in the city itself. The local commanders will not be able to hold out against so many of them, so we need to reinforce them with all available forces."

"Forces which are needed to defend the rest of our settlements," Zaiser countered. "Haakensburg is a minor town. Osthilt and Südhoof are much more important."

"Osthilt and Südhoof will follow soon after Haakensburg falls," Kirstin said coldly. "If we do not stop the Reds here, we won't be able to stop them ever."

The bitter silence returned. Zaiser stared icily at his subordinate, and then pulled his rank. "I am the Field Marshal here," he reminded. "I will authorize an aerial counterattack on Haakensburg, which will alleviate the siege." He paused. "And General Kirstin- I could have you charged with insubordination."

The younger Kirstin flushed and glared at his superior. "But I won't. Because our country needs a hell of a lot of competent officers, and you're one of them. Now organize the air relief." The tension dissipated, somewhat.

"Now what of those Damascenes? I haven't heard from them since they began fortifying the city."


The Bavarian ships were greeted with the sight of a miniature Paris. Minus the Eiffel Tower and the Notre Dame, Gravines resembled a metropolitan French city greatly, with tree-lined boulevards, busy markets, and tightly-packed rows of neoclassical buildings. The shelling which had plagued the city for the past few months had temporarily abated. Already, the streets were flooded with frantic civilians, rushing to obtain vital supplies before the bombing resumed. Coated policemen directed the clotting traffic and were already hard at work repairing shellholes. Despite the siege, the city seemed to be neat, clean, and orderly.

Gravines' dockyards were extensive. Before the war, they had been home to the Capilean Navy's most formidable squadron, with top-of-the-line shipbuilding, repair, and maintenance facilities. As such, the primary ships of the Bavarian fleet easily fit into the harbor. Before any formal introduction was made, swarms of burly teamsters hustled onto the allied ships and offered to help unload their cargo. As loads of military equipment and tired men spewed forth from the bloated warships, a collection of tall, mustached men in olive uniforms approached the Bavarian flagship.

All but one bore a serious expression and a red kepi. The exception rose a few inches above the others, and wore a modish, European-cut suit. His mustache and curly hair were chestnut brown, his eyes bright hazel and intelligent, and his face ruggedly handsome. As he came to a halt beneath the gangplank of the fleet's flagship, his expressive mouth broke into a wide smile.

Jean-Paul Charleroi, Premier of the Free French State, awaited the Bavarian commander.

PostPosted: Thu May 09, 2019 10:59 pm
by New Decius
Northern Capilean Coast
Grand Duchy of Nova Capile, VF Territory
Operation Snow White

The Horten Group had been responsible for the development of some of the German Empire’s most advanced and prominent aircraft designs both military and civilian, they were even the ones who were developing a new supersonic passenger airliner after the French had to shut down their Concorde liners in 2006. They were the among the biggest aircraft manufacturers in Europe if not the world and their prominence in German industry was matched only by such giants as Krupp and KaizerTech. They were also famous for their rather flashy and boastful announcements for their latest aircraft designs, such as flyovers of Berlin or public exhibitions etc. But they could keep a secret as well when required to do so.

That was the case with the Horten-349 Intercontinental Stealth Transport; for the past three years the Horten Group had kept this top secret project extremely close hold, to the point where none of the researchers involved could move about without a ‘shadow’ from the Abwehr and three men and a woman, all of them distinguished scientists, were arrested and sentenced to twenty years in prison for talking about the project in social occasions. The Ministry for Industry had woven a clever propaganda campaign to conceal the development of the Ho-349 and convince foreign intelligence services that the project was encountering countless difficulties and even had some speculating it would take a further decade to get beyond the experimental test phase. Oh to be sure the project had run into its fair share of difficulties, both technical and financial, it cost the German government several hundred million Euromarks to build just one of these intercontinental stealth transports which was why some in the Reichstag, as the Committee on Military Appropriations was in charge of authorizing the purchase of these aircraft, thought that a new generation stealth fighter should have been built instead. However, Germany had been working on a intercontinental stealth transport since the late 90’s and though the project had jumped around from several companies over that time, incredible progress had been made and thus now resulted in the Ho-349. An aircraft just under the size of a Heinkel He-300 (OOC: My version of an AC-130) with no armament capacity but a fully capable medical bay and the ability to transport up to thirty special operatives and their equipment, all while remaining undetected by military and civilian radar systems and with the range to deploy anywhere in the world. Though this global capability wasn’t as much of a requirement given that Germany’s colonies, as well as those of its European satellites, allowed it access to bases across the world in any case.

Hauptmann Felix Stürmer was checking his equipment one last time as the aircraft cruised along at 50,000 feet through a, thankfully, cloudy night sky coming in on the Northern Capilean Coast, about two or three dozen kilometers Northeast of the besieged port of Mülhburg. They would be inserted on the coast just ten kilometers West of Seeburg Castle, the prison which Special Operative Dernen had reported Her Royal Highness had been taken to by Nemetz’s men and where she was to be extensively tortured in the coming days. Nemetz had moved much faster than the Abwehr had anticipated, having moved the Princess as Operation Snow White was still in preparation rather than waiting to see if the Kaiser’s mind could be swayed simply by the threat of harm to a member of his family. Stürmer had had just enough time to kiss his wife and daughter goodbye before practically being dragged from his home by a pair of Abwehr officers to the Luftwaffe airbase outside of Dresden along with the other ten members of Special Operations Group Delta with a briefing en route to Capile.

The drop point was coming up on them now so the eleven special operations soldiers made one final check of their parachutes before the ramp to the aircraft began to lower and they proceeded to position for the jump. If all went according to plan, and it was very likely that it would, they would come down right where they were supposed to and Dernen would be there waiting for them to take them to Seeburg, he apparently was in command of the operation. All eleven men were experienced jumpers, having primarily been deployed for aircraft for most of their missions for the past four years, and it showed when they executed their jumps perfectly and floated down to the agreed upon clearing overlooking a rocky cliff face and the ocean below where a man in a feldgrau uniform was waiting off to the side. When all the operatives had landed and unloaded their equipment, Willi walked up to Felix, extending his hand.

“Hauptmann Stürmer? Hauptmann Dernen, we don’t have much time to get to Seeburg and initiate the operation. From what I was able to uncover there’s some ‘doctor’ in charge of this prison, a rather sadistic man whose planning on subjecting Her Royal Highness to psychological tortures first before moving onto physical. I took one of the guards hostage while he was on leave and heading home, don’t worry there’s no body to be found, I’m good at my job.” They began to move out at a rapid pace, though really ten kilometers was nothing for soldiers of the KSK nor for a seasoned soldier like Dernen, though since Nemetz had moved his prisoner ahead of time they had to change their plan to adapt to the current scenario. The original plan had been to ambush the convoy transporting the Princess en route to the prison, hence why they had three Panzerfaust-4 Anti-Armor Rocket Launchers with them though now they served no purpose other than excess weight. Given the sheer size of the prison guard garrison, it was unlikely they could just storm the front gates and besides the guards, not knowing who was breaking into the prison, would probably execute all the prisoners rather than have the horrors unleashed to the world and turn international support away from the fascists.

It did not take long at all to reach a hill overlooking Seeburg Castle and at that time they realized just how heavily guarded this fortress was, Nemetz had obviously reinforced the garrison when he moved Elizabeth there. One of the operatives, Leutnant Karl Jüngst, lay down in some shrubbery so he could pull out the bipod on his HKG30 sniper rifle and began to survey the visible guards posted outside the castle. “I count seven men outside in the grounds, five outside the gate, three in the Eastern Tower operating a machine gun, another three in the Western Tower operating the same, and six men on the forward battlements. All avenues of approach are covered by the enemy save from the cliffs.”

Stürmer surveyed the cliffs with his binoculars, it was true all the enemy attention was focused on land not at sea. “Alright so a detached force could sneak around and scale the cliffs to enter the castle from the rear while a vanguard created a disturbance out here to draw their attention away from a possible incursion.” It was then that he noticed Dernen was on his phone waiting to be connected. “Who are you calling Hauptmann Dernen?”

“Kapiten Steiger on U-1073, I’m going to tell him to ready a cruise missile and prepare to fire on the castle.” He was suddenly seized by the collar and lifted off the ground by Hauptmann Stürmer who glared at him for his heartlessness. “My orders were that the Princess was only to be killed if it was impossible to rescue her, it is possible and we will do it! How can you write her off so easily?”

“Hauptmann your letting emotion cloud your judgement. My orders were to assess the risk of our actions against the likelihood of success. And frankly while Her Royal Highness is important, she is not worth the loss of half or an entire KSK special operations team.” His call was connected through. “Steiger ready a missile and take aim at-“

“Wait!” Leutnant Anya Feldkampf called as she pointed to the road below them. “We have a vehicle approaching the castle.”

With that, Willi begrudgingly agreed to hold off on the missile strike until after they found out what was going on now. What was interesting was the crest on the black car, it was the crest of the Household of the Grand Ducal House of Capile. A member of the Capilean royal nobility, what an interesting encounter this should be to observe?

PostPosted: Wed May 15, 2019 7:20 pm
by The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile


Behind the sleek limosine, several shining black jeeps followed; the small motorcade came to an abrupt halt before the crumbling stone mass that was Seeburg Castle. A delegation was here to meet them; a handful of officers, surrounded by stolid guards, stood in the courtyard.

At their head, a tall, lean man in the garb of a Stoßtrupp lieutenant colonel stepped forward. He was commandant of the facility, a certain Hennig Braun, renowned for his ruthlessness when dealing with enemies of the VF. The doors of the convoy swung open; tall men stepped out, the imprints of body-armor visible beneath tuxedos, dark glasses obscuring their faces, and holstered pistols at their hips. From their appearance and the way they carried themselves, it was obvious that they were members of the SD, the Royalist intelligence forces.

One of the faceless SD men approached Braun.

"You have her?" he said, voice tight and threatening.

Braun turned to his left, and gave a microscopic nod to the soldier behind him. The Fascist sentry heaved open the trapdoor entrance of the facility, and entered it. A few moments later he returned, roughly pushing Princess Elizbeth before him. While it was evident that she had been subjected to no great physical harm, the psychological trauma of weeks of imprisonment revealed itself through her expression.

There was a stifled sound from within one of the cars, and a figure, previously unknown, burst into the outside world. It was Prince Karl, bristling with impotent rage. He pushed past the SD men and strode directly up to the commandant, regarding him with disdain.

"You son of a bitch," he spat. "What have you done to her?"

"She'll still be in good shape for your wedding, Your Highness," Braun replied mockingly, "though you might not be." He made another gesture, and the guard released Elizabeth. An SD man stepped forward, took the Princess' hand, and guided her toward the limousine.

"I have your word that you'll let her go?" Karl demanded, blue eyes rapidly exchanging as much information with his fiancé as could be with a glance.

"We are men of honor," Braun swore, thin lips curling into a smirk. The SD men pressed Elizabeth into the car, and Karl submitted to the shackles that were placed around his wrists. He looked over his shoulder at the leaving motorcade as his new captors led him into the prison. The bright summer subsided into pitch blackness as he entered hell; his nostrils were filled with the smell of mildew and dried blood, and his thoughts clouded over.

The eventual heir to Capile's throne had made this action on impulse, without the consent or even the knowledge of the Reichskanzler and the Duke. For Karl, it was not a question of politics and strategy. He could not let Elizabeth die underground, in this place, tortured for months on end and subjected to the twisted experiments of Fascist psychopaths. If he had to trade his life for hers, then so be it.

He had left his men with explicit orders: head back to the rendezvous site south of the prison, in the wilderness; escort Elizabeth onto the getaway plane; and see to it that she made safely back to Royalist and then German territory, at all costs.

PostPosted: Sat May 18, 2019 12:08 am
by New Decius
Oberste Heeresleitung, Berlin
Kingdom of Prussia, German Empire
Federation of European Monarchies

Kaiserliche Marschall Dietrich von Regensburg was the only officer in all of Europe who didn’t have to stop to salute a superior officer while marching through the halls of the Oberste Heeresleitung, his only superior was His Imperial Majesty the Kaiser whom had ceded authority of the military to him when he invoked Article 30. It was quite a perk for him and also helped him get through the building faster without having to stop every ten feet to salute every officer of higher rank wandering the halls, simply cause there was no officer of higher rank than him, even the members of the Joint-Chief’s of Staff had to salute Regensburg. Though Dietrich von Regensburg was not quite a man who let all this power go to his head, partially because of his personality and partially because there were just enough people whom didn’t salute him or whom he had to salute to level it out; for instance the Commander of the Kaiserliche Raketenkorps (Imperial Rocket Corps/German Space Program) didn’t have to salute him because they were outside the normal chain of command, and then Regensburg had to salute His Imperial Majesty as well as His Excellency the Imperial Chancellor along with any monarch of a German state.

Right now Regensburg was on his way to his office where he would meet with the Joint-Chief’s for a planning session regarding the final preparations for Operation Anvil which was the total mobilization of troops to Capile. As it was they were planning on deploying far more troops than Dietrich had told the Chancellor they were going to deploy, after all how could he have convinced him otherwise. It was hard enough convincing the Chancellor and His Majesty to send six hundred thousand troops, they would have never agreed if Dietrich had told them the truth, that he intended to send twice as many. After all, if your going to crush your enemy, you must go all in. Keep the enemy off balance then go forth and conquer the foe, that was true in war and life itself. During war time, Regensburg had a clear and present foe, the enemy power whom he must crush for sovereign and empire, but during peace he also had a clear and present opponent; the Reichstag had, since the early 2000’s, done its best to reel in both military extension of authority and military spending. Regensburg had been the Kaiserliche Marschall since 2010 and every single year he had to fight and argue with the representatives in the Reichstag and the Kaiser’s choice for the Chancellery about the expansion of the military budget. Honestly bureaucrats were harsher opponents than an entire squad of terrorist maniacs, for they had unlimited resources and stamina at their disposal, and Regensburg could not simply dispatch members of the Reichstag by missile strike or KSK squad, at least not without triggering a civilian uprising.

So he had bided his time and now fate had handed him the perfect opportunity to prove the Kaiserreich still had teeth. To prove that its jaws would snatch away all hope and life from its enemies and crush them to the last hopeless soul. In a time of war he could expand the military budget as he saw fit, the Reichstag was forced to supply as much money as he wanted and he would expand the military extensively before this war was over. Warranted it would require massive commitment in Capile in the interim though in Regensburg’s opinion ever since Klaus took the throne down there, Capile had turned away from being the powerful ally Germany had retained for just over a decade now and begun to wilt into a fragile flower. This civil war merely proved that point, though he wouldn’t stoop so low as to launch a coup against Klaus he would do his best to empower the Royalist military so that maybe Germany’s ally could be powerful once again and they would stand together against the twin evils of fascism and communism. But that required a great amount of conflict and sacrifice beforehand for that desired outcome.

’So I’ll just have to make sure that the war goes on for as long as possible.’ Regensburg thought as he walked down the hall, an evil smirk spreading across his face.

Seeburg Castle
Grand Duchy of Nova Capile
Operation Snow White

As the situation below had rapidly changed and circumstances were revealed, so too had the plans changed for Hauptmann Stürmer and SOG Delta, their mission was now the recovery of both the Princess Elizabeth and His Highness Prince Karl. They had positioned themselves so to execute a tactical assault on the congregation of persons outside Seeburg Castle; two snipers on the hill with .50 caliber sniper rifles, a machine gunner hidden amongst the hillside shrubbery, and the remaining eight positioned in two person teams dispersed around the exterior of the prison. Special Operative Dernen had declined to participate, offering instead to act as spotter for the snipers and so was sweeping the ground with his spotters scope waiting for the assault to begin.

At Stürmer’s command, one of the snipers, Konrad Heinlen, took out Bauer and the other dropped his bodyguard as the two quickly began picking off the officers amongst the group and then the machine gun opened up on the remaining guards. Though Nemetz’s guards were certainly good soldiers, they were not equipped for combat with a fully armed highly experienced KSK SOG, not to mention the assistance of the SD guards to Prince Karl whom actually took some initiative and dove for Princess Elizabeth making sure she was safe and protected inside the car even shielding her with his body. Stürmer and his teams began to converge on the position as they took out the enemy in quick succession, making sure to expend as little ammunition as possible so they could conserve for escorting the Prince and Princess back into Royalist territory, though it might be wiser to take the Prince and his entourage with them back to the submarine for extraction that way. “Make sure you leave none of them alive! We can’t have any witnesses! Anna, Konrad bring down those tower guards and make sure they can’t get to those machine guns up there!” Stürmer blew a hole straight threw one of the fascists head and then fired a three round burst into another. This battle was practically over before it started, they had caught the guards completely by surprise, but there was the concern that more of the garrison could soon arrive so preventive measures needed to be taken.

“Franz, Bertohlt bring down the front gate! Fire the rockets!” Using their Panzerfaust 4’s, two of the operatives brought down the main gate to the prison, collapsing the entrance beneath a pile of rubble and quieting the courtyard as it came to light that the last of the garrison guards had been killed leaving them with a brief reprieve. But as Stürmer turned back towards the SD men, one of them pointed his gun right at him clearly suspect about the provenance of their cause. He raised his hands and slowly pulled out his identification card while verbally confirming his identity. “I am Hauptmann Felix Stürmer, Kommando Spezialkräft, Imperial German Special Operations Group Delta. We were originally deployed to rescue Her Royal Highness the Princess Elizabeth, your arrival aided in this effort greatly. Now I suggest we all get out of this area now while we can, a submarine off the coast will be wiping out Seeburg Castle with a cruise missile in approximately five minutes, we want to try and convince Nemetz Her Highness died in the strike.” Dernen gaped at how freely Stürmer gave out information on their identities, the Abwehr was a lot more close hold than the KSK and so any member of the Abwehr giving out information so freely would be subject to a court martial.

It would seem the SD men saw that it was wiser to cooperate with their rescuers than maintain their suspicions, so they all piled into their vehicles, including the KSK operatives and Special Operative Dernen, and drove away from the prison as fast as they could. As the convoy was speeding up the road, a bright light flashed across the sky momentarily before a massive boom sounded across the horizon and a great plume of smoke rose up from where Seeburg Castle used to be, the prison and all in it having been obliterated by a cruise missile strike from the submarine that had originally been meant to extract the team per the original mission. With any luck, Nemetz would believe that Her Highness had been deemed not worth risking a special operations team on and Germany had chosen instead to mercifully end her life by obliterating the prison entirely rather than let her be tortured both mentally and physically.

Grand Duchy of Nova Capile
Evacuation from Saxtonburg

Admiral Wilhelm Kreutz leaned against a crate on the docks of Rochefort trying to catch his breath, a portable IV hooked up to his arm, he had given two pints of blood like many of his men once the medical bays had run out of blood performing so many operations on injured Capilean soldiers. Some of the German’s were now at death’s door from having given so much blood, and there were even cases were doctors were giving blood while performing operations leading to several cases of men fainting where they stood. Sadly approximately six hundred and thirty Capilean’s had died during the evacuation to Rochefort, having been too severely injured to be saved, their bodies had been turned over to the authorities in Rochefort for a proper burial, a heroes burial. All the hospitals in the city had been told to expect heavy inflow as soon as the Carrier Group dropped anchor and indeed they had not disappointed having a virtual armada of ambulances waiting at the dockyards to begin transporting the wounded to the hospital’s, and also had excess blood supply on hand to assist those German soldiers who had given perhaps a bit too much for their allied comrades in arms.

From the reports that Kreutz was getting, Nemetz himself had made a trip to Saxtonburg after the evacuation and right now his forces were attempting to close up Mühlburg as well while holding Royalist attacks on their territory at bay. The BSU appeared to be making a breakout from Raus and was rapidly expanding South towards the coast, perhaps the 7th would be ordered to provide Royalist forces with naval and air support if the Communist’s got anywhere near the coast, it was very likely. Just the carrier aircraft alone could deal a devastating blow to the BSU offensive if used correctly, but it was unlikely the Capilean commanders would request their help even if they were on the verge of total defeat; if they were anything like Major General Ulex, they were proud men not willing to waver in face of the enemy nor much willing to seek out help despite unfavorable odds. Still one could but hope that reason and logic would see victory in this debate and they would soon enough be called away to aid in the defense of the Capilean coastal ports where they could very quickly turn the tide.

PostPosted: Wed May 22, 2019 8:00 pm
by The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile


An inferno of action blazed within a single moment.

Taken completely by surprise, the guards of Seeburg Castle melted away. The oblong, sneering countenance of Hennig Braun exploded in a fantastic shower of viscera, and his doll-like body flopped backward. The phalanx of guards surrounding him was cut through like wheat by a scythe of bullets. Falling left and right, clutching necks, stomachs, and limbs, the sentries and officers never had the time to reach for their guns. More Stoßwehr soldiers rushed about the turrets and walls of the castle, diving stupidly for machine guns. The precise German snipers knocked them down from the battlements one by one. Bodies in rust-colored camouflage rained from the castle walls.

In all of the chaos, the Capileans remained relatively unharmed. Only two of the SD men had been hit; the rest were fanning out behind the motorcade, riddling the prison with bullets. Prince Karl, for what it was worth, had thought only of his beloved, diving straight for her and shielding her with his body. The SD guards began shepherding the Germans and the pair of royals into the vehicles while they still had the initiative.

Amidst the groaning corpses that littered the castle's courtyard, a few souls stirred. Low to the ground and thinking only of revenge, they began opening up on their enemies, focusing on the figureheads of the royal families they so despised. The majority of the shots were poorly-aimed, but one rang true.

Karl shouted out in pain as a bullet struck him in his leg, and then he and Elizabeth disappeared into an armored car. Assailed by a growing firestorm of vengeful Fascist bullets, the motorcade began screeching away. Unaware that they would soon all die, the remaining leadership of the prison ordered an immediate liquidation of its prisoners. In the last few minutes of Seeburg Castle, the walls of its dungeons were splattered with gallons of communist, royalist, and innocent blood. Those that the guards could not kill in time were extinguished painlessly and instantly by the missile.

In the car, Karl instantly turned to his fiancée. "Are you alright?" he panted, making absolutely sure that no bullet had harmed her. When he was sure, he sighed in relief, and then drew her into an embrace. "I'm so sorry," he managed, even as they were thrown about by the high-speed swerving of their driving.


These men would receive a hero's welcome.

Vast crowds of citizenry thronged the docks. Urgent mothers, sobbing girls, and gaunt fathers all awaited their loved ones, dead or alive. The German ships unloaded masses of starved, cadaverous Capileans, who flooded the harbor. They embraced their girlfriends and parents like never before, filled their mouths with alcohol, bread, and cigarettes, and threw their ragged caps into the air. It might have seemed a celebration, if it weren't for the hollow, soulless eyes of the Capilean soldiers.

The Germans, too, were welcomed. They were embraced by the city's young girls, gifts and luxuries were shoved into their arms, and old, dignified men begged to shake their hands. A handful of local officers, standing apart from the rest because of the cleanness of their uniforms, pushed through the masses of people, and worked their way to the boats. Led by General Fleischmann, they began to meet with their German counterparts, accounting for their men and equipment and morosely thanking their allies.

One group stood apart from the rest. Wide-eyed soldiers' sweethearts who realized they would never again share a kiss with their men; slumped-shouldered fathers remembering the bright-eyed boy they had now lost forever; and the worst of all, the mothers who searched vainly for the sons who could now only be found in Valhalla.

PostPosted: Fri May 24, 2019 12:26 am
by New Decius
Prinz Josef Franz Air Base
7km North of Heussburg
Grand Duchy of Nova Capile

’It would seem the Communists were too focused on their main offensive to worry about a strike towards their flank.’ Leutnantgeneral Brauchwist thought as he surveyed the hastily and poorly erected Communist defenses in the distance guarding the two nearest main roads and a single highway which lead towards Raus. He was standing in the control tower of the air base along with his chief staff officers counting down the final minutes until his counteroffensive, Case Indigo, was launched and the five divisions under his command (3 Infanterie, 1 Panzer, 1 Panzergrenadier) would roll forward and onwards to Raus. ’Judging by what I can see here, they have only two to three brigades guarding what are essentially three of the most important routes into one of their most important strongholds. I have 125,000 troops about to crash down upon approximately 20,000, and if the Capilean General Klerk comes through I’ll have my tactical air support as well.’ Since his only air compliments were attack helicopters and transport gunships, the Capilean’s would be providing several squadrons of strike fighters and CAS aircraft. Brauchwist kept trying to tell himself that the BSU can’t have left their flank so poorly defended but the more he looked through intelligence reports it really did appear that the Reds were truly throwing everything into reaching the sea and had figured they could consolidate their position before anyone could take advantage of their unguarded rear. Well much like a shark that had spotted a dangling limb, Brauchwist would bite, and bite hard.

’5...4...3...2...1...Fire.’ Exactly on time the first artillery salvo’s opened up and seconds later crashed down upon the checkpoints and hastily built encampments the Communist troops were using. It was only the stationary field pieces firing three round salvo’s at intervals of five minutes between a salvo currently, Brauchwist wanted his self-propelled artillery vehicles to conserve their ammunition in case a siege of Raus or any nearby towns became necessary, he had plenty of troops but only enough supplies and munitions for a week of combat until his airlift resupply from Deutsch-Ost Afrika (German East Africa, German Colonial Administration of Uganda, Kenya, Tanzania, Rwanda, and Burundi) came through by week’s end maybe sooner depending on the weather. With his binoculars he could see that his artillery were firing with deadly accuracy on the Communist positions and the few artillery batteries that the Reds had had already been knocked out by the salvo’s rendering them incapable of conducting counterbattery fire on Brauchwist artillery. That was even better than however many Communist infantry the guns took out, the more artillery pieces that could be kept in fighting condition the better given the limited supply and limited time for the offensive. Reports were already coming in as the first squads of infantry supported by fast attack vehicles were making contact with enemy forces and by all accounts despite suffering some initial light casualties it appeared the shock and awe of the offensive had caught the majority of these Communist’s off-guard and quite a fair amount were surrendering to the German forces. Brauchwist hadn’t even needed to send in his attack helicopter squadrons or call on allied air support yet the operation was proceeding so well, which allowed him to put Phase 2 into play sooner than expected.

Turning to Weber his aide, he issued his next set of orders. “16. Panzer is to immediately get on the highway and head for Raus however make sure they know that despite them acting as a feint they are to fight as if they are the main attack force, meanwhile we will have 91. Panzergrenadier support them in this effort and assign two of our three attack helicopter squadrons to Mission Seven.” Though the now captured highway, Highway 78, provided the fastest and most direct route into Raus, it was also the route the enemy could most easily concentrate their forces on for a counterattack as part of their defensive, and Brauchwist would give them a tempting target by sending his sole armored division and his sole mechanized division on their way to Raus like a big fat juicy steak for the Reds to try and dig into. Meanwhile the three infantry divisions at his disposal would fan out into the countryside and capture a pre-selected group of seven small towns around Raus which would not only secure good rocket artillery positions within range of the city along with supplies for his men, but also force the enemy to spread himself thin for his defenses either forcing him to recall forces from the Communist Race for the Sea pressing against Haakensburg or to weaken a Red counterattack on Brauchwist armored and mechanized forces which would potentially leave Raus vulnerable to attack. Leutnantgeneral Brauchwist’s objective was not to actually capture Raus, he had neither the forces nor the supplies for such a massive endeavor but he could put the cities defenders under great strain and force them to either weaken or completely call off their offensive into Royalist territory to try and secure their own territory.

“Contact General Klerk and let him know I have begun Case Indigo, I shall need reconnaissance flights up over the towns we previously discussed and my commanders in the flight will call upon him for tactical air strikes as needed. Remind him though that I do not have the resources to actually capture Raus merely stress its defenders.” Weber nodded and immediately set about contacting the Capilean General whom had been selected to provide them with support for this offensive. Brauchwist and Klerk had previously discussed which towns would be the target for the infantry divisions and precisely how much air support Klerk could provide Brauchwist with for his feint to make it look enough like a real drive straight for Raus.

Grand Duchy of Nova Capile
7th Carrier Group

Admiral Kreutz, with a little help from hid aide Leutnant Hermann Steiger to steady himself on his feet since he was still a little woozy from giving blood, created General Fleischmann with a salute and something approaching a solemn smile as they both looked upon the scene taking place, both officers drawn towards the crowd whom was draped only in sadness for their lost loved ones. Kreutz was burdened by guilt that he could not have saved more, maybe if he had pushed his Carrier Group harder leaving Dschibuti (Djibouti) they might have made it in time to not only save more men but lift the siege, the arsenal of cruise missiles his ships carried could at the very least have forced the VF to pull back temporarily. “I am so sorry that I could not have brought back more. As it was Major General Ulex stayed behind with about a thousand men because there was no room left in the fleet, we physically could not fit anymore without endangering the lives of my crews and our passengers more than they were already.” He took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it up blowing a puff of smoke away from them all into the foggy air where it went almost unnoticed among the rest of the grey covering the sky. “We made those men who came aboard already dying as comfortable as we could, I only wish we could have saved more.”

He offered the General a cigarette and the other officer accepted politely. As they both stood there for several moments smoking and taking in the scene, the tension began to break. “So are the reports I’m hearing correct? The Communist’s are making a run for the sea? Don’t give me the propaganda answer give me the truth about what’s going on. We both know that if the Reds get a functioning port under their banner their international support will sky rocket. What are the odds they reach the coast?”

PostPosted: Fri May 24, 2019 11:16 am
by Kingdom of Damascus
Haakensburg, Nova Capile
Captain Michail Andreas, 7th Antioch Purple Guard Brigade
July 21st, 2018, 13:00

"Let em' have it!" Andreas shouted to his platoon over the radio. Machine guns, rifles and a band of other weapons fired at the wave of communists. Andreas himself raised his rifle and fired his gun as well, firing and firing accurately at the Reds coming towards their defenses. However, their sheer number was too much for 6,000 Damascian men to take on. At about 450 meters, grenades were fired into the crowds as squad automatic weapons kept up their fire alongside the battle rifles and pistols and mortars from the trenchline, most likely taking their toll on the Reds as much as they could. Andreas, finding the Reds getting closer and closer to the trenchline, eventually gave his Platoon the order to fall back and to tactically withdraw, as did other CO's and NCO's. They would retreat into the city and take up positions. Either this would be where they made a final stand, or this would be where the Reds find themselves routed. Along the way, Andreas would watch as abandoned equipment would either be rigged to fail, rigged to blow or would be packed up and taken with them to the city as quickly as humanly possible with cover fire buying them time. Andreas watched as shotgunners and sub-machine gunners put up a short CQC match against some of the first waves entering the trenches before ultimately retreating with machine gun fire and rifleman covering their escape from 300-500 meters away.

Andreas entered the city with his Platoon. Along the way, he saw Damascian Combat engineers in the streets selectively rigging buildings to blow as a means to ambush Reds, rigging buildings to fall over and block roads, buildings being restructured as machine gun nests, sniper nests, turning buildings into HQ's and setting up garages for armored ambushes, and establishing AA guns on rooftops. They'd be gearing the city for intense, urban warfare, and they were about to show the Reds that they were ready for them.

Haakensburg, Nova Capile
Pfc. Zayd Papadopoulos, 2nd Antioch Purple Guard Brigade
July 21st, 2019, 19:00

"Return fire, return fire!" Zayd heard officers shouting in the distance as Damascian mortars and howitzers returned fire into the human wave of Reds scrambling towards their defenses. Shrieks of Damascian M60A3 Pattons would fire HE shells and their machine guns at the wave of bodies rushing towards them, and Fireteams would assembly and fire at them; their battle rifles firing the devastating .308 round. Surely, if it struck them it would either drop them or at the bare minimum knock them on their ass and that's only assuming they're wearing body armor. Zayd would clamor towards his fireteam in a trench line, El-Mofty and Metaxas and Amjad already assembled and holding their part of the trench; Amjad already having his LMG propped up and firing towards the incoming horde of Reds. Zayd's adrenaline was pumping. This is it. This is it. He thought to himself. In fact, it was hard to keep up with his thoughts, so many things was rushing through his minds. "Return fire, Papadopoulos!" Would shout El-Mofty. This would snap him back to reality. Zayd would raise his battle rifle and begin returning fire from a slit in the sandbag defenses. He'd be quick to aim and fire, many of his shots making it as it was kind of hard to miss. He was an excellent shot, too, as with a great many of his comrades. Minutes past, though they felt like hours. Red bodies dropped one by one. Zayd would sling his rifle and fire his Grenade launcher towards them, as would a great many Grenadiers of other fireteams near him while MG's and rifle fire, shells, mortars and the sort would continue to reign on the horde rushing towards them. "There's too many of them, we can't hold these defenses. Fall back!" Staff Sergeant Antoniou would shout through the radio. They would begin the process of tactically withdrawing, a couple of fireteam members would fall back while the other half would continually fire as the other half of the fireteams set up in the back and laid down cover fire so their two fireteam mates could fall back, kind of leap-frogging it. They would do this for a short period while tanks slowly backed up providing covering fire, while mortars and howitzers either fell back or were rigged to blow upon capture and abandoned. They would retreat into the city.

Zayd and his platoon would take position in Haakensburg, the city itself. The once somewhat vibrant, optimistic homes now quivering and shaking with each artillery strike. Zayd would look to his left as he saw a team of combat engineers hurriedly tossing up sandbags and modifying the garage to allow for one of their M60A3 Patton's to take shelter inside. Zayd and the rest of his platoon would rush into buildings, taking positions inside them, setting down small crates of ammunition and taking up positions. "Check weapons!" Antoniou shouted. We would quickly check our weapons; make sure they're loaded, clean, and the sort.

After a few minutes of setting up sandbags, machine guns, ammo crates and placing wooden and metal sheets to block grenades, Zayd and the rest of his Platoon was ready to contend with the up and coming siege. Damascians all throughout would take the same precautions; quickly restructuring buildings for sieges, hiding tanks, setting up machine gun and sniper nests wherever they could. They'd be ready to fight with everything they have, until they run out of bullets, until their bayonets became blunt and until their knuckles were burnt out. Zayd and the rest of his fireteam members would take positions inside the third story along with another fireteam of the same platoon. Their guns locked and loaded, they were ready to take the brunt of the storm that was to come.

Haakensburg, Nova Capile
Major General Haris Ajam, 2nd, 5th and 7th Antioch Purple Guard Brigades
July 21st, 2018, 19:00

That last comment was his cue. Ajam, whom perhaps wasn't noticed in the room would speak up. Ajam was a relatively average-sized, with brown eyes, short black hair, lightly tanned skin and shaven though visual facial hair and sideburns, and his face would look relatively young, at least relative to someone in his position. He'd don a plain, darkish green BDU, black combat boots and a green beret, with a pistol holstered at his side. Overall, he'd appear well-dressed. He'd stand at a pretty average height of around 5'9, though would appear relatively well-built. "My men are down there in the dirt and trenches as we speak. I've ordered them to fall back to the city if all else fails." He would say. He would sound very foreign to them, with an accent strangely resembling that of both Greek and Arabic, and his voice would be somewhat relaxed and monotone. He'd pause for a moment, reading his military tablet. "By the looks of how the battle is going so far, and the confirmations I've received from my Officer Corps, they should be in the process of or already fallen back and are taking up positions in the city to make the battle for the city as bloody as they can possibly make it for the Reds; rigging buildings to blow or to fall over, setting up machine gun nests and sniper nests, preparing ambushes, and etcetera." He'd look back up to the rest of the officers, "Hopefully, that is sufficient?"

PostPosted: Sun May 26, 2019 7:41 pm
by The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile


General Joachim Klerk burst into the command center of Heussburg's military base. Frantic junior officers bustled about, trying to prepare the 32nd Air Wing for liftoff in as little time as possible. One of them, a pale blond man who was supremely red in the face, jumped to attention. The rank badges on his copper-trimmed ivory uniform gave him as a lieutenant colonel of the Capilean Air Force.

"Lieutenant Colonel Förster- what in God's name is going on?" Klerk demanded, striding past his subordinate and looking over the chaotic command room. Förster struggled for words, and then, finally, took a deep breath, and said:

"The Germans have launched an offensive aimed at taking Raus."

"Raus?" Klerk said, wide-eyed with disbelief. "Now?"

"Yes, sir," the lieutenant colonel confirmed wearily. A quiet settled over the room.

"Do the Germans realize that Raus' defenses are still at full strength?" the general inquired, more calmly now.

"Apparently, not. Whatever intelligence they have has told them that forces from Raus have been shifted for the Communist offensive against Südhoof, when, in fact, only enemy forces from Kongsburg have moved. Raus' garrison remains intact."

"And yet, the Germans press on?"

"Relentlessly, sir." Klerk thought for a long moment.

"We must assist them. Without our support, they may find themselves routed. Lieutenant Colonel, rally our forces. I want squadrons leaving the ground within fifteen minutes. We haven't a second to spare."



The defenders of Raus, over one million strong, prepared to drive back the Germans at all costs necessary.

In the streets of the huge, urban city, the citizenry recreated the apocalypse. Barricades of steel, wood, sandbags, furniture, cars, and rubble were formed at every major street and intersection, bulwarked by machine gun nests and anti-tank gun emplacements. Every skyscraper- of which there were many- was infested by sniper teams. Every able-bodied man above the age of eighteen was issued a rifle and an armband, and became part of the People's Army. Drilling in the streets, they formed up in the millions; not well-trained soldiery, by any means, but zealots willing to give their lives for the Revolution.

Outside of the city, the Revolution's actual army began to assemble. Some 400,000 men, under the command of veteran officer Gerhard Koch, were real soldiers rather than militia. The regiments that marched grimly to the frontline were one half grizzled veteran, middle-aged guerillas just as hardy as a Royalist trooper, and one half young, strong, bold-faced youths, their whole-hearted fanaticism forged together with an iron discipline by months of rigorous training.

About three miles outside of the city, in a stretch of flatland, they began erecting defenses. Nimble engineers darted to and fro, setting up field artillery and anti-tank batteries. The People's Army of Raus stood ready even as breastworks were built up before them. The Germans could roll on, with their haughty panzers and cold, imperialistic smirks.
The people of Capile would be ready for them, anti-tank rifles in hand, faces set and determined.

Overhead, a Royalist jet screeched. The two armies readied for battle.


"Slim to none," Fleischmann replied, lighting his own cigarette. "And no, that's not just propaganda. The Reds might have brute strength- and yeah, they might've caught Zaiser with his pants down. But that untrained rabble won't hold up forever. Sure, they might take Haakensburg. But Hell'll freeze over before they take Südhoof, or make it to the coast. There's a ring of steel all around him. They can defeat one Royalist army, but they can't defeat them all."

Behind them, there was a shout. A contingent of black-suited men was pushing through the dwindling crowds of soldiers and civilians. At its head was a tall, broad-shouldered, and barrel-chested man, his impressive white mustache twitching in anger. Fleischmann's eyes flashed.

"Ah, yes. I should've told you earlier... The civilian administration wasn't too happy about the, ah, detonation of the Reichsrat."

Reichskanzler Wilhelm Knott burst into the scene. Towering over the other men, large, square face a deep shade of red, and massive, clenched fists shaking, the chancellor's fury was enough to cow even military men.

"Sir," he addressed the German, voice taut, "so as not to make a spectacle of ourselves, I would suggest you accompany me to my car for a brief discussion."

Fleischmann shrugged, said, "I will see to it that these men are given proper medical treatment and sorted out." It left no option for Kreutz except to go with Knott.

Inside the car, a handsome black sedan, the huge form of Wilhelm Knott pivoted to face the Admiral.

"Admiral, please explain to me as best you can," he ground out, "why you thought it appropriate to destroy one of my nation's most historic sites in an unauthorized missile strike?"


A storm of steel engulfed the defenders of Haakensburg.

How could a man hold up against a rain of lead, beating down on him not just from above, but from left and right too? The Communists fought never-endingly. Against a machine-gun nest they swarmed, and even though dozens were cut down, more and more came, and through sheer willpower they took over the strongpoint.

The Byzantine and Capilean defenders were steadfast. They held their ground and dug in their heels, and they inflicted a sick slaughter on their enemies. Before long, the streets were clogged with corpses. The gutters ran with blood, and, finally driven back, the Communist assault seemed to peter out.

Piers stepped out of the wreckage of what had been his machine gun position. The gun was useless, its ammunition sucked up and it rooted to the ground. With his squadmates all killed, he had no chance of hauling it on his own. Carefully, the young man tip-toed across the street. It was a wide road, probably the widest in Haakensburg, and so it had the most room for corpses.

Carefully stepping over the bloodied body of a Communist, Piers noticed how many there really were. Hundreds of broken brown-uniformed bodies littered the street. Blood-soaked brown caps and limps threatened to trip him at any step, as did a few steel helmets. Those had been left, undoubtedly, by dead Royalists. The Communists wore no helmets.

Piers' comrades were dead. Now he made his way over to the Byzantines to see if they were still alive. Hands above his head, he descending into their fighting position.

"Corporal Piers Graf, Forty-Third Royal Infantry," he identified himself. "My squadron was wiped out, but I see that-" He was interrupted by a sudden, ferocious yelling. It was not the shout of one man, but of thousands. They were screaming as one, one wretched voice-box for their whole army. A damned, ear-piercing song rose from them:

" Drum fester die Einheit, der Kampf wird sich lohnen
Dann wird in der Welt immer Frieden sein!

It carried on, over and over, and then dissolved into an animalistic yell, an earth-shaking battlecry. Piers looked out from the rim of the trench.

"They're charging!" he shouted, raising his gun and firing blindly into the mass of humanity descending upon him. Clad in salvaged Royalist helmets, bayoneted rifles in hand and spitting fire, the Communists were charging down the street, aiming at finally pushing past the defenses and into the heart of the city.

PostPosted: Mon May 27, 2019 12:16 pm
by Atkemri
The Presidential Palace

The Federation Of Atkemri

There's nothing more frightening than a half-baked do-gooder who knows nothing of the world but takes it upon himself to tell the world what's good for it."
Eiji Yoshikawa

"Mr.Wells, you do know that war would be excellent for the re-election campaign." Wells looked over at the manager of his re-election campaign, Enitan Ayokunle, as he approached his desk "and if the polls have anything to say it seems like you are falling behind to the Liberals." "Since when do we listen to the polls Enitan?" Wells replied, "Since the Tribal Assembly elections last year." Enitan said with a tint of sarcasm in his voice. Wells turned his swivel chair around at him clearly annoyed by his aid "We lost a few seats, it happens to every political party. You're overreacting, anyways wasn't it you that told me to stop getting involved in foreign wars?" Enitan let some time pass before answering creating the type of silence only created by tension. Enitan knew his job was on the line at this moment as Wells had a nasty habit of firing assistants for his campaign for any small annoyance they caused. "Mr.Wells I think you forget that a bit of patriotism before an election almost always results in better results. Just throw on that old 'protecting freedom' act and your base will be firmly secured."

Wells thought for a bit; he did, in fact, want to help the government of Nova Capile fight off the fascists and communists that attacked them, but after doing that same thing for so many other governments in his 5 year tenure as president the military and more importantly the people were getting tired of his relentless crusade for freedom. Lucky Wells shook his head and looked at Enitan, his crusade would continue "We start with supply shipments, that's it, nothing more, nothing less. Got it? I don't want another round of mourning families to look at." Wells took out a sticky note from his desk and wrote down his approval of a statement regarding Atkemrian intent in the Capile conflict to be sent to the Foreign Affairs Office to be made into a message while the Tribal Assembly began debates on how much if anything should be given to the government of Nova Capile. Enitan walked out of the room. "It's good to see you came to your senses Mr.Wells."

Official Message from the Atkemrian Government

It has come to the attention of the Atkemrian Government that the proud nation of Nova Capile has fallen under attack by their own countrymen corrupted by some of the vilest ideologies the human race has produced. This even saddens and disturbs both the people and Government of Atkemri and we hope to bring it to an end in the only morally justifiable way possible. With the legitimate government of Nova Capile led by the Grand Duke and the righteous Reichskanzler once again leading a whole nation with the degenerate elements who started this civil war properly punished for their crimes against their nation and their people.

To reach this end we would like to extend our support to the legitimate Grand Duchy via a potential stream of supplies to help the war effort. In order for this operation to be as effective and efficient as possible, we would like to ask the Grand Duchy's government to tell us of any supplies which are in particularly in need in a more secretive message than this one. This would allow us to properly assist in the horrible war that has descended upon the people of Nova Capile and bring it to a quick and easy end.

PostPosted: Wed May 29, 2019 6:32 pm
by Kingdom of Damascus
Haakensburg, Nova Capile
Captain Michail Andreas, 7th Antioch Purple Guard Brigade
July 21st, 2018, 17:00

The first phase of the siege had ended. His platoon walked out into the streets as machine gun nests, sniper nests, small trenchlines and etcetera provided them overwatch. Blood, bodies, equipment, the sort; littered the streets. Damascian soldiers followed them out in platoons, quickly scavenging for equipment and clearing out stragglers. They did this for what seemed like half an hour before returning to their positions. Only after they got back into position, they heard a shout outside the window; it was one of the surviving Capilians. Of course, before he got to finish his sentence, he was interrupted by the Communist's battlecry and subsequent battle cry. "You are kidding me." Andreas said, cursing. "Don't let up on those bastards!" He'd shout to his men. Over the radio, he'd hear Major General Xanthopoulos shout, "Spring the traps now, and remember; God is with us!" He'd rush to the lower floor, grab the arm of the Capilian and shout to him, "Inside, now!"

Moments after, several houses would abruptly explode as the Communists charged the dense streets, effectively killing large chunks of the communists as machine gun fire kept on the front rows; or really whatever row was good at their angle, just as the Damascian engineers engineered them to do. The Reds would find themselves being shot from multiple angles. As a last resort, just as the communists would have gotten close to the city center, several buildings would be brought down infront of them; the rubble falling on top of and killing some communists, cutting off whomever did get through in some areas, and leave them vulnerable to being overpowered and killed. While this wouldn't happen in every single street leading to the center, they would still be semi-frequent and would dish out a lot of damage to the Reds, limit their movements allowing for chokepoints to become all that much more deadly, and most obviously, leave them with fewer available manpower. M60A3's would begin to pop out of their garages along with platoons of men to follow them to rush to these chokepoints to secure them or to set up ambushes around the corners of them. The Reds, though rushing was good psychological warfare, would not save them from the intricate planning the Damascians put in preparing for the inevitable siege, nor break their resilence and desire to overcome.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, for Andreas and his platoon, he was one of the chokepoints. This was unfortunate in that the Reds would be barreling down his way, but also fortunate in that this means Damascian reinforcements from further back would be on the way; with IFV's, tanks, and platoons of infantry coming to assist them and set up fallback points assuming they need to leave sooner or later. Either way, Andreas was ready to hold out as long as possible. If the Reds were to win, Andreas would make sure it was costly and wasn't worth the losses. Lord, please protect my men and guide us to either victory or safety. Should we die, please take them into your arms. He prayed, silently. Afterwards, he'd take a quick inhale and subsequent exhale before getting back up. He'd approach a window and start abruptly firing at the Reds.

Haakensburg, Nova Capile
Pfc. Zayd Papadopoulos, 2nd Antioch Purple Guard Brigade
July 21st, 2019, 19:00

There'd be bodies all over the place. Corpses litter the streets, homes destroyed, small pockets of resistance remained. Zayd would turn to his fireteam members, each one of them looked tired, scared, or both. They had taken quite the beating, but luckily, nobody was killed or physically hurt. Zayd let out a stressed chuckle, his heart would be pounding. We made it. He thought to himself. They looked outside; the trenches thrown together were still intact, and the machine gun positions, mortars and the sort were still together. None of the buildings had to be detonated nor any buildings needed be brought down with the exception of a select few that were overrun. The Squads and platoons ahead that did get overran fought to the bitter end; fighting the communists with their rifles, shotguns, machine guns, bayonets, their bare hands, they'd fight tooth and nail and if they could not hold a building, they would detonate it just to prevent the Communists from capturing it or just to deal as much casualties as humanly possible. The men throughout the building they were set up in would feel something of relief. They won, or at least so they thought; while they were happy, expectations were still low. That was, until they heard a collective battle cry in the distance, followed by gunshots. "You're fucking kidding me!" Shouted El-Mofty, a mixed feelings of negative emotions would be visible in his voice. Zayd shook his head, he kissed his cross and tuck it back under his uniform, and would take a drink from his canteen before raising his rifle and aiming back out the window as with a lot of his squad members. They would open fire the moment those damned Reds became visible.

"We're not out of this yet, keep firing!" Shouted El-Mofty, continuing to fire his rifle from his window. Three more machine guns from the two-story building they were in would continue to fire sporadically at the Reds, as to make sure each shot counted. As they seemed to get close enough, several grenades were launched at the Reds. The dense streets would limit movements and make the explosives and machine gun fire all that much more deadly. They could do their damage, but the Reds were closing in. They would not have the manpower to overpower them individually, nor the ammo to maintain a prolonged fight. Luckily for them, that's exactly when the Red's advance was disrupted following an order over the radio by their Major General.

Abruptly, buildings further back would abruptly explode, and several buildings would come toppling down onto the Reds, killing some in the process, however most importantly cutting them off from each other and blocking their advance. Outside, they heard gunshots nearby and an engine roaring. The few Reds that did manage to pass into the street they were on were easily picked off by about 3 platoons and 2 M60A3 Pattons supporting them plus Zayd's platoon. The men inside the buildings ceased firing, and came out to exit and meet with the platoons outside. "Form up on us, we're headed to secure a nearby chokepoint. We secure that, those Reds are going to have to pump every last bit of manpower they've got." Said the Damascian soldier. He bared a Master Sergeant patch. Antoniou would speak up, "Master Sergeant, my men are low on ammo."
"We have ammo on the second truck in the convoy. Climb in, take a seat and redistribute ammo as you see fit. Get a move on."
Replied the Master Sergeant. "On me!" Said Antoniou to all of us. The 16 of us loaded onto the second truck, we redistributed ammo among ourselves. It wasn't much, but it was at least something. We each got 2-6 mags or boxes of ammo depending on what weapons we were using. During that time, the convoy kept rolling on, taking us to a chokepoint. Roughly 2 tanks, 4 IFV's and a few trucks of men and equipment, with about a company of us in total. We were vigilant all the way through, and the closer the gunshots got, the more combat ready we felt. This battle has to end soon. That was the thought on everyone's mind.

PostPosted: Thu May 30, 2019 3:33 am
by Guuj Xaat Kil
T'laatu (Victoria), Guuj Xaat Kil Capital
June 16 to 30, 2018

A six way civil war? What an absolute mess. Even the Americans only dealt with one opposing side, these folk on the other hand, had royalists pitted against fascists, reds, republicans, and secessionists of the French and Dutch variety, and from what he had gathered from the various pieces of news that were slowly piling up on his table, they all hate each other. Others saw a tragedy, he only saw profit. "Should we intervene?" He asked the various people seated in front of the glossy blackwood table, "Well gentlemen? I'm open for any suggestions, fire away I say.".

"Well my liege," one began, "I propose that we support the royali-" only to be interrupted by another.

"I'm going to stop you right there friend," He started, "My liege, instead of going to the Royalists, why don't we support the fascists instead?". He then explained further after being stared at for too long, "Think about it, are the royalists a group to be supported?" He continued, "We have already seen that they are now ineffective monarchs of their state, incapable of introducing some semblance of a democracy to their nation. Us on the other hand, have had a government that can be considered democratic by the standards of the West for hundreds of years, and will do so for many more.".

"Well? Do explain your point further." Emperor Yahl XIV Gwaawaas Tlgunghung told the man, along with a gesture with his hand, and the man continued.

"It also appears my lord, that they are equally as inept in their controlling of various minorities within their lands," the person resumed after the emperor lowered his hand, "This is another thing that should be easy to do, as evidenced with our empire with massive minorities.". "But these are actually less important points than this last one," he told further, "Which is: what's in it for us? Indeed, why should we support the monarchy of Nova Capile? Of which we have less than optimal relations with as of now, I remind you all.". "We need to support the fascists my lord, that way we curry their favor," he finished, "And gain something out of this civil war.".

"Well Minister Koyah, you have convinced me to intervene for them instead of the royalists," Yahl finally replied after a small pause, he would then take out a paper and pen, and began writing, "But I hope that I intervened on the right side.". After writing the first paragraph, Yahl spoke up again, "Minister Skaaxwad, could you give me the current approval rating?" After a few minutes of shuffling around on a tablet, the minister gave it to him. "78.7% approval, this war may bring it down to 50," the emperor murmured, "We should move this through the council instead of doing an executive order.".

"Bring this to the council, and Minister Koyah, wire an order for the mobilization of 2 CGS, dismissed."...

June 17 then arrived and with it, the deliberations for a intervention on the side of the fascists, and the Minister of War, Koyah Sakbwatsuk, was able to convince enough of them to ensure that the vote would at least be a draw. The debates raged on for about two weeks, and on June 26, the votes were tallied, and it was a close call. About 58% of the councilors had voted FOR, while the remaining 42 percent had either voted AGAINST or ABSTAIN. But while they were bickering with each other, the navy and the air force had been mobilized for deployment in Nova Capile. It would take at least a week to mobilize them, and upon the conclusion of the debates, they were ready to leave for their destination. On June 30, after a few entanglements, the first CSG left for Nova Capile.

Encryption Level: Critical
To: Fatherland Front
Greetings, true leaders of Nova Capile! It gladdens us that you remove a blight upon this world and a disgrace to monarchies elsewhere! We are willing to send support in the form of giving you total air superiority, and we will do this once you wire areas that require softening up. We also request that you divert a few troops towards a Royalist controlled island in the northwest, as we intend on constructing an airbase there to further your control of the skies.

Several kilometers north from encircled island
July 21st

The distinct roars of the Klimov RD-33MK jet engines on MiG-29Ks grew louder and louder as time wore on, and when the moment arrived, the catapult was loosed and off went the fighter jet. The explosion-like noise of the catapult hitting the frontal steel plate then resonated a few milliseconds earlier, adding to the alertness of the tense men on that aircraft carrier. Elsewhere on the mainland, two Tu-160's, armed with four MOABs each, flew off the air bases they were in and towards their target, an island just off Nova Capile. Due to their distance, the fighters first arrived, deploying all of their payload upon anything that could threaten the incoming bombers. Upon completing their run, they flew off, and back onto the carrier. The distinct thunks of arresting gear would follow. Then the two bombers came.

Eight were dropped, and eight blew up.

PostPosted: Thu May 30, 2019 8:52 pm
by The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile


Piers Graf watched as the Reds charged and were slaughtered in the hundreds. Machine guns cleaved through their ranks, snipers sent officers and commissars sprawling, and collapsing buildings claimed dozens of lives at a time. The great mass of humanity was returning fire, however, and the sheer wall of bullets, though inexpertly aimed, was enough to send him back into cover.

Overhead, he heard the whistle of mortars and artillery shells, fired from both Royalist and Communist batteries, and now crashing down in their midst. The Earth quaked and the corporal's skull rattled as they exploded. Piers thrust a fresh clip into his automatic rifle and peaked back above the trench line. The Communists continued their charge, almost unfazed. Urged on by the frantic shouts of rabid politruks, they clambered over rubble and the bodies of their comrades, shrugging off bullet wounds and sending an endless volley back at the scattered Royalist defenders. Shells fell amongst them, creating great, gaping holes in their lines, holes that were filled almost the instant they were made. Fresh young bodies piled in, eager to bleed for Communism.

Surrounded by the Damascenes, Piers emptied his clip into the advancing enemy force and had the grim satisfaction of seeing all of his targets die. A fire filled his eyes. Scrambling for a new magazine, the Capilean took his eyes off of the Reds for a second. By the time he looked back up, they seemed to be one hundred yards closer.

"They're getting closer, Goddamnit!" he shouted, raising his gun and spitting fire at his enemy. It was of no use; somehow, through sheer willpower, perhaps, the enemy had knocked out strongpoint after strongpoint, until theirs was one of the last left on that part of the street. As one body, the enemy column turned on them and rushed forward.

Graf glanced wildly at the Damascenes, and then let loose a yell that cut through the rolling, thunderous cries of the enemy. "Für Thron und Reich!"

The enemy charged, bayonets primed, rifles on full-automatic. Piers' was set to full-automatic, too, and he jumped out of the trench, rifle in one hand, combat knife in the other. Even as his allies called him back, Piers ran headlong into the enemy charge, avoiding bullets by divine grace, mowing down the enemy like grass. His gun was the wind, throwing men to the ground, and his knife was like lightning, cutting and slashing through air and flesh.

Piers cleaved through the enemy, performing a dance with his gun and his knife, and was swallowed up by the huge mass of Reds. The fight went on without him. It had to.

The Reds charged on, with combat knives and guns and shovels of their own, and threw themselves headfirst into the trenches. Like savages they fought, kicking and punching and biting at the Damascenes. The trench was filled, first with Reds and then with bodies, as the close-quarters fighting claimed more and more. The clang of weapons and bitter shouting was overcome by a firestorm above them. Reinforcements had arrived.

Weathering the enemy artillery bombardment, Royalist and Damascene troops rushed across the street, tanks and armored cars at their head, rolling back the frightened knots of bloodied Communists. When they realized that the enemy was on top of them and there were no political commissars in sight, the Reds in the trenches ran like rabbits, scurrying out and fleeing.

A Capilean major lowered himself into the trench, and gazed awkwardly at the bloodied Damascenes for a time. His insignia differed from that of the other Capileans; he was from a relief army. Presently, he said, "Thanks for holding the line, gents."

"We appreciate everything you've done for this country," Field Marshal Zaiser stated, shaking Ajam's hand. He was a bit embarrassed that he hadn't even noticed or been informed of the Damascene general's presence, but glossed over it anyhow. "The sacrifice of your men will not be in vain. The forces of-" He paused and looked up as the bunker's doors flew open and a tall man bearing a lieutenant general's insignia strode in. "General Kesselbach," the commander finished exuberantly.

"Speak of the devil," Kesselbach joked, maintaining a serious countenance nevertheless. "My forces have arrived and are at your disposal. Although I have preemptively ordered them to surround the city and reinforce the defenders." He smiled.

"You showed up in the nick of time, General," Zaiser said, clearly relieved. "We now have most of the 9., 10., and 11. Armies, not to mention our allies from the Kingdom," he gestured to Ajam. "Now we will finally roll back the Red and give our men some reprieve."


The reason St. Peter Island had been left unattacked by the Fascists was not because it had particularly formidable defenses, but rather because it simply wasn't worth the effort.

The domain of the rich and famous, the island was nothing more than a collection of private beaches and seaside mansions. At the onset of the war it had been abandoned, and now the houses were shells, stripped of their valuables by their owners and opportunistic thieves. The only object of worth was the small airfield that lay on the eastern fringe of the island, and which even now was devoid of aircraft. A few anti-aircraft gunners sat sleeping at their posts, basking in the cancerously warm rays of the summer sun.
They had a painful awakening.

Sirens screamed, but too late. The bombers were already overhead. Even as the bombs fell, the gunners scrambled to the controls of their cannon, managing to send a few spurts of wildly-aimed fire up at the enemy craft. By then, their payload had already hit.

Big, merciless bombs fell on the airfield, cratering it and blowing the poor gunners to smithereens. They didn't stand a chance. Nemetz and the Fascists would be glad for a moment that the airfield was gone. And then they would forget about it, and so would everyone else. The war was too big for St. Peter Island's airfield to make a difference.


To: The Emperor of Great Haida
From: Parteileiter Walther Nemetz

Hail honored Emperor!

It will be an honor to fight alongside you, and we welcome you as brothers-in-arms against the Communist parasite.

As for St. Peter Island, it is a paltry thing, defended by at most a thousand men who would rather be somewhere else. I can spare some troops for its liberation, but not many. An airbase there would indeed assist in our siege of Mühlburg, and so we approve your plans.

I hope to meet you on the battlefield!

Walther Nemetz


To: President Wells
From: Reichskanzler Wilhelm Knott
Dear Mr. President,

It reassures me that a fellow legitimate nation, not to mention a powerful and sincere one, has recognized the Capilean cause. It is our duty to preserve Capile against those who wish to see it destroyed, and I am pleased that you choose to join us in that fight, whether in spirit or in arms.

Thankfully, supplies from numerous allied nations have now begun to satisfy our military's demands, and so most needs are not pressing. However, aircraft and heavy vehicles are indeed lacking from our arsenal. I realize that these materials are expensive, and would be pleased to promise your reimbursement by the war's end.

God be with you.

Wilhelm Knott

PostPosted: Fri May 31, 2019 3:47 am
by Guuj Xaat Kil
Close to St. Peter Island
6:23 AM, July 22nd

Looking out from a pair of binoculars, Admiral Skuujgee Gong Nipawin could clearly see the amount of destruction that the Xaat Kil Airforce had done on the small island just off Nova Capile, St. Peter Island they called it. Patrols by aircraft on the area showed that there apparently was little to nobody around, and whatever garrison the island had were sleeping on the job. "Huh..." that was a foolish mistake on their part, that's for sure, "I thought these people would recognize the importance of the island, with its airfield, I guess they overlooked that.". It was a mistake he would exploit as much as possible, as the island, now bombed all the way to high heaven, was open for occupation, and after that, they would simply have to move construction equipment to repair and expand the, as of now destroyed airfield. These actions might allow their new allies to give them a base in the area to project power from. "Hmph, that is if they aren't stubborn." Oh well, he had other things to do, namely assisting in the Mühlburg Siege, as the copy of the letter their fascist allies sent to the emperor stated.

He looked at the man just beside him, who was also marveling at the amount of destroyed enemy and upturned dirt the MOAB bombing caused, "Vice Admiral Gwaay Ganhlinaaw," he called out, to which he got a unaware "Yes sir?", "I would like a report on the capacity of our aircraft on my desk," "Yes sir.". He sighed at this, "And I want it as soon as possible or else you're getting thrown overboard."... Oh? The man was nowhere to be found, probably went to do what was ordered, good.

Walking through the aircraft carrier's deck, he quickly arrived at the superstructure and entered it. A few more steps around the steel tower and he found himself at his quarters, and a report on his deck, "Hmph! Not as tardy as they say." He thought as he seated himself on the chair behind the table and began reading the report. Ammunition and fuel were still at acceptable level, and there was going to be another MOAB bombing soon, this time on key areas in the city of Mühlburg. He had a job, time to do it. Calling for that somewhat tardy Vice Admiral, he had transmitted orders, fighter aircraft were to wrest air superiority in Mühlburg today and Saxtonburg on July 23, the former of those beleaguered cities would be given more fighter aircraft from the other CSG assigned to him, which was due to arrive somewhere around 23:00. Sending an encrypted message to fascist forces in the area that there would be a bombing, he then waited.

It had been 7:20 AM when the sounds of roaring engines, followed with the massive thunk of the catapult slamming into the frontal plate reached his ears, signifying that his orders had been followed. "Fly safe folks, fly safe..." He muttered to himself as he left his quarters, and slammed the door behind him.

Around twenty minutes before, back home, another Tu-160, armed with the usual configuration, flew off into the sunrise. Back at the front, it was around 7:38 when some blips were spotted on the radars of whoever was on the ground in Mühlburg, to their allies, this was a signal to get the fuck out as fast as possible, and for their enemies, something that added to their already high levels of trepidation. Two minutes later, their MiG-29K were barely in sight to those on the ground, and their enemies knew of this. Flying close, they deposited once again their payloads upon targets such as AA sites and places where enemy forces were concentrated, some fighters, unfortunately, were shot down by enemy fire, but their payloads had been dropped and their objectives done, and so they left without another fuss. It was now 8:01, and the bomber had arrived.

One dropped, and one blew up. A massive fireball in the sky.
Another one, and one blew up. Once more, a fireball in the sky next to a dissipating one.
The third one, and the third blew up. Again, a massive fireball in the sky.
The fourth one fell, and the fourth exploded. The final fireball for this show.

A success, well, until one shot from the enemy was able to hit the aircraft's tail. This was quite the loss as the bomber fleet was quite limited, oh well, they had to make do.

PostPosted: Fri May 31, 2019 4:12 pm
by New Decius
Grand Duchy of Nova Capile

Despite being confronted by the second-most powerful man in the Capile, Admiral Kreutz was unfazed, he had after all spent most of his life as a sailor and then a commander so intimidation wasn’t something he felt easily. He took off his glasses and produced a neckerchief from his jacket with which he cleaned off the lenses before replacing them on his face, and prepared to deliver his argument to the Reichskanzler, which would certainly be a task. He had heard from the men on the ground in Saxtonburg that it had been hard enough to justify bombing the Reichsrat to Major General Ulex and now he would have to justify it to a person of vastly more importance and prestige than Ulex. “Your Excellency, First may I say it is an honor and a pleasure to meet you. Next I will get right to the heart of the matter; we destroyed the Reichsrat in an act of strategic denial to the enemy. Much as I or any other commander would destroy vital infrastructure during a strategic retreat, I denied the enemy usage of an important monument of your nation for its symbolic purposes.”

“All our intelligence says that Nemetz had specifically ordered the Reichsrat intact so that he could hold a victory rally centered around the building, after which a new ‘elected’ Parliament would be reopened and Nemetz would very likely broaden his claims of legitimacy as the sole Capilean government ever further. Now as you no doubt know Germany and the European Federation would both ignore and shout down these claims as tje Grand Duchy is one of our most noble and steadfast allies, however I cannot speak to the international community on such a matter...” By the look on Knott’s face he had known the consequences of allowing Nemetz to setup what was supposedly a stable elected government while his enemies were on the run, particularly in terms of Capile’s international image and which faction seemed most likely to come out on top. “If Nemetz appeared to have already established a stable post-war government before the war is even over in the very houses of the Grand Duchy’s legislature as if he has ousted the Royalists from any legitimate governance role, it would shake support for the Royalists internationally because Nemetz would seem the wiser bet. Not too mention, and I mean no offense here, that your own people may take Nemetz capture of the Reichsrat and establishment of a new government as a sign that they should join him now before it is too late, it is a classic mentality that develops among the populace in times of civil war. During both the French and Russian Civil Wars in which Germany participated both the French Republican’s and Russian Federalists practically obliterated Paris and Moscow respectively, before we could capture them alongside the monarchist forces in both countries, reason being that if we had been able to capture either of those historic cities intact and setup stable monarchial governments run from them, those wars would have been over a lot sooner.”

“My bombing of the Reichsrat was not a display of intentional disrespect towards your government or your people, it was purely military tactics. I advise you to prepare for other instances where strategic denial of monuments and historic sites may be required. Monuments can be rebuilt but men and equipment cannot be reacquired quite so easily so it is pointless to continue fighting a losing battle to save something which can be rebuilt once the conflict is done. And I am also sure that the Reichstag will approve an aid package to help your government rebuild any monuments destroyed in the course of the war.”

“Your Excellency for victory in this war you must be willing to sacrifice everything to prevent those fascist murderers from taking over.”

Case Indigo; Raus Offensive
Grand Duchy of Nova Capile

’How in the hell did the Abwehr miss the mass mobilization of a civilian militia!’ Leutnantgeneral von Brauchwist covered his ears as the artillery just outside his command tent banged away without reprieve as they had shifted from an offensive to an offensive-defensive, once it was discovered that far from weakening Raus, the Reds had greatly strengthened the city by mass mobilizing the population. Certainly they had a disadvantage in that all of the German troops were trained professional soldiers whereas most of the Communists were an untrained mob, but the Red’s had an advantage of their own since quantity became a quality in and of itself. The Abwehr had foolishly only delivered numbers on how many professional regular troops were based for the defense of Raus rather than taking into account the fact that the Red’s were handing out guns to anyone who could aim, so Brauchwist had been forced to change his plans mid-operation, lifting his supply restrictions for one. All artillery were now free to fire as needed to make up for the numbers difference between the two forces, and Brauchwist’s men were calling on Capilean air support more and more as the Battle of Raus went on, the 16. Panzer Division was encircled beyond their lines by a ragtag mix of the BSU’s militia and regular army troops. ’At this rate we’ll be in a destitute supply situation within two days and encircled within four! Unless I can get reinforcements or more supplies this Battle will end in defeat!’ With so long a history of victory in war since the rebirth of the Kaiserreich, German commanders had feared the disgrace that came with defeat more than any other consequence of defeat, however Brauchwist was more concerned with the fact that neither he nor any of his men were very likely to survive this battle. They would either be slaughtered to the last man, captured and tortured or captured and the Reds would attempt to coerce them to their cause. As the commander, Brauchwist would no doubt be executed as a ‘tyrannical monarchist capitalist stooge’ and declared an ‘enemy of the people’; well at the very least his wife and son would get a bigger pension if he died in enemy captivity as an executed POW.

There was no way at all for either the Capilean Royal Army or the Imperial German Army to get any sizable reinforcements to them in time, and by all accounts the Capilean’s were still too engaged in defeating the Communist Race to the Sea to afford him any total air superiority factor. The Luftwaffe had supersonic strategic bombers which could deliver an extreme amount of destruction anywhere on Earth in a matter of hours, a couple squadrons could flatten Raus and the surrounding towns in a couple passes, but there was no way the Capilean’s would let Germany completely decimate one of their cities even if it was in enemy hands. Yet even if the chances were slim that the Capilean’s would agree to the strategic air strikes, such an act seemed far more feasible for relieving the pressure on Brauchwist’s forces than waiting for the resupply coming from Deutsch-Ost Afrika which was still at least three days out and a brewing storm over the Indian Ocean might delay that to five days, or holding out for the first vanguard units assigned for Operation Anvil to arrive which was still a week out from beginning deployment. ’Still, there are potentially hundreds of thousands of civilian non-combatants in Raus. Desperate I am, murderous I am not.’

“Weber I want real time updates on all enemy positions outside the Raus city limits! Only those positions outside the city limits, if I am to be able to make my plan work I can’t touch the city.” While the Heinkel He-34’s (The Luftwaffe’s only supersonic strategic bomber at present) could drop up to 120,000 pounds of munitions they could also drop much smaller more precise ordinance even at their high speeds, unlike the Cold War Era BV-45’s which were only capable of carpet bombing as a strategic bomber. If he were to hit a couple of the towns outside Raus in which his forces were currently engaging the BSU forces as well as some of their forward defensive positions with heavy but precise airstrikes, it might be enough to draw enough pressure and troops off the encirclement of 16. Panzer and Brauchwist could begin a total withdrawal back towards Franz Josef Airbase while the Reds were still getting their act together. He began moving markers around the map in the table in front of him to designate the movements of his troops. “All field hospitals and mobile medical units are to begin packing up and withdraw behind our lines heading back for Franz Josef, forward units are to give them every available cover. I want all helicopter gunships to cease combat duties and commence extraction operations inside these towns outside the city limits where they are to begin withdrawal of our troops to our rear line, while attack helicopters are to prioritize the relief of any encircled units.” He began moving the pieces designating fixed artillery back behind his rear lines as well. “Self-propelled artillery are to increase fire at long range on the enemies forward defense lines outside Raus, maybe hold up their putting any more troops into the field for a bit. All batteries of fixed artillery are to withdraw exactly four kilometers and reform new firing lines which will cover our overall withdrawal.”

The ground shook as a shell detonated right outside the command tent, someone or rather several someone’s was screaming in horrific pain which only reminded Brauchwist that they were in an impossible situation, damn the Oberste Heeresleitung for thinking five divisions could stress the defenses of a garrison at just over a million strong. They had believed that a force made up mostly of untrained civilian militia could not hold out against seasoned professional soldiers, never mind that the enemy outnumbered Brauchwist ten to one and was far more well supplied than he. “I want you to get Majorgeneral Niemens of 16. Panzer on the line now!” The staff officers did there jobs dutifully even as the world went to hell all around them and the nearby artillery made hearing anything almost impossible.

One of his aides ran up to him with a phone in hand and saluted. “Leutnantgeneral Brauchwist Sir, I have Majorgeneral Niemens on the line but we’re cant be sure that its a secure line that won’t be picked up by the enemy.”

Brauchwist deadpanned. “At a time like this soldier in these circumstances it hardly makes a difference if the enemy knows what we’re doing or not!” He snatched the phone from his hand.

“Erich looks like this is another fine mess we’ve gotten ourselves into. What’s your current standing?”

”Well I’d say our current standing is a bloody mess is what it is. I’ve lost eighteen percent of my total forces and thirteen percent of my armor, and both of my helicopter gunship squadrons have been taken out.” The sound of gunfire and explosions briefly cut off the Majorgeneral in command of the 16. Panzer Division before he was able to continue. ”Its not the Red’s regular army troops we’re having trouble with its these damn militia and irregulars! Their insane, fanatics I’d call them! Some of them are using suicide bomber attacks on our positions, one man strapped four anti-tank grenades to his chest and jumped on a Leopard 3 before blowing up him and the tank!”

“Well if you can hold out a couple more hours I may be able to relieve you and we can withdraw our forces to Prinz Franz Josef. I have a plan but in the mean time I will try and get you some reprieve before your totally and completely overrun.”

”Well I hope so otherwise I’m going to need you to explain to my wife why I’m missing our anniversary next month.”

“I’d rather face an entire armored brigade single handed than face an angry Bertha, have faith and hold strong old friend.”

With that Brauchwist tossed the phone back on the desk and walked straight to his communications station to get into contact with General Klerk on one end and the Strategisches Kommando der Luftwaffe (Luftwaffe Strategic Command) on the other. He leaned down to the young Leutnant establishing a connection with the SKL and told him to send them a list of coordinates for the strategic airstrikes and to launch the strike as soon as he got permission from the Capilean’s to utilize strategic assets on their soil. The other Leutnant was able to get a real-time video connection with General Klerk and Brauchwist saluted the allied officer.

“General Klerk, first I must thank you for your tactical air support throughout the battle it has been of immeasurable aid to my forces. When the Abwehr reconed Raus prior to Case Indigo, they saw fit only to tally the number of regular military troops deployed in and around the city which while it still outnumbered my forces was not so large it could not be overcome. They did not tally the much larger number of militia and irregulars which it would seem make up the vast majority of the BSU’s forces in the area, they somehow ignored the fact that the Red’s are putting guns in the hands of anyone and everyone who can so much as hold it up and aim it. Thus my forces were caught off-guard when we were engaged by forward elements of a force more than five times our strength that sallied forth from Raus never mind the Red troops still holed up in the city and we have suffered not insignificant casualties and 16. Panzer Division has been encircled by the Communist forces.”

He nodded to the Leutnant to start transmitting the pertinent data to Klerk’s headquarters. “I am in no position to continue Case Indigo, the entire point of which was to stress Raus’ defenses and prevent them mobilizing any sort of offensive using the city as a staging ground, I have no choice but to withdraw from the battlefield. I need you to cancel any and all other air strike missions my field officers are requesting except those for 16. Panzer, and prioritize helping me break that encirclement so I can get them free. However I will need more than tactical air support to get my troops away.”

“Currently the Luftwaffe has three squadrons of supersonic strategic bombers prepping at air bases in Ost-Afrika which can be in airspace above Raus in a matter of hours and deliver a serious amount of munitions on the enemy. My plan is to use heavy but precise air strikes on the forward Communist troops and their forward defenses to possibly force them to weaken their encirclement of the 16. Panzer Division and allow them to escape. However this plan will only work if I get permission to use strategic assets on Capilean right now, if I wait any more than an hour to give the planes the go order then they won’t arrive in time for a series of tactical air strikes to work.” He gave out a deep sigh. “My only other option would then be to order a carpet bombing mission of Raus and the surrounding towns. These planes pack an enormous payload and could easily flatten Raus and the surrounding towns in two passes. You and I both know that such an action would result in not only significant military casualties on the part of the BSU but also potentially hundreds of thousands of civilian casualties hence my reluctance to give such an order. But I must save my men Sir, their lives are entrusted to me and I already have enough letters to write to new widows and orphans as it is.”

He steeled his gaze. “So I must have answer now. No taking time to consider alternatives, no running it up the chain of command, I must know now.”

PostPosted: Mon Jun 03, 2019 8:27 pm
by The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile


It was a clear and bright day in the ruins of Capile's oldest German city and capital. The devestation of the siege which had been fought for months on the city's streets had not yet been repaired, but the Fascists were making a determined effort at it.

On every street, teams of men in dark gray coveralls labored, reconstructing buildings, filling in shell craters, collecting bullet casings, and clearing away rubble. In only a few weeks, the new administration had completely cleared the center of the city and its major roads, and was now rapidly rebuilding the rest of Saxtonburg. These workmen had another duty, as well. On every street and alley they cleared, they left behind huge color posters and massive green banners.

Several designs had been used. One, with the jubilant headline "THE LIBERATORS OF SAXTONBURG!", enshrined a towering VF soldier helping a little girl out of the ruins of her home, whilst a sneering Royalist bomber flew overhead. Another, proclaiming "THE HERALDS OF PROGRESS!", showed a trio of men, one a handsome Stoßwehr trooper, another a gray-coveralled workman, and the last a silver-haired civilian, hailing the VF flag, while a utopian city rose behind them. One more, with the scathing print "YOUR DUKE", depicted an ape-like caricature of Wilhelm Knott, jamming a broken crown onto his head and stomping on the broken bodies of Capilean innocents, while Saxtonburg burned in the background.
All of them carried the same message: The Fatherland Front is rebuilding and nourishing. The Monarchy is destroying.

The repaved roads of Saxtonburg were jammed with traffic, almost as if there was no war at all. Thousands of cars gravitated to the center of the city, where the Reichsrat had once stood. Parking adjacent to every available sidewalk, the passengers disembarked and rushed to the site of Nemetz's long-awaited rally. Already triumphant military music filled the air, produced by roving military bands with huge drums and shiny brass instruments. They directed the crowds to the Reichsrat.

The immense square that the VF had cleared off especially for the occasion had already filled completely with onlookers. The street around it and the windows and rooftops of surrounding buildings were also overflowing with ecstatic civilians. A thick black stripe of Stoßtrupp men stood between the swelling crowd and a gigantic clapboard stage. A towering podium dominated the stage, but behind it was a single row of chairs, on which several dozen important men were seated. Behind them, a huge cloth curtain, held up by poles anchored at either end of the stage, rose up almost one hundred yards into the air. Colored a light blue, it completely blocked out the sky, and obscured where the ruins of the Reichsrat must have lain.

Suddenly, the music stopped, and the crowds hushed. A black-clad figure rose from the seats and took the podium. He was not Nemetz, was not tall or blond or intimidating. Almost no one at the rally had ever seen or heard of him before. But he clearly considered himself to be of supreme importance in relation to the rally. He was Jürgen Hellmacht.

"Now the Reichsmarschall speaks!" he said, voice made a thousand times stronger by the microphone. A tremendous uproar of cheers broke out from every throat in the crowd. From behind the curtain, Nemetz stepped out. His uniform was different now, the insignia had changed, but he was too far away for most to notice. Hellmacht returned to his seat, and Nemetz took the podium.
The cheering only intensified. Walther Nemetz allowed it to roar on for nearly half a minute as he surveyed the crowd, before finally, he raised his hand. The noise died instantly.

"Today," he began, voice strong and clear, "marks the beginning of a new era." He paused, blue eyes connecting with those of all of his tens of thousands of listeners at once. "Today marks the beginning of a new nation. I look around myself, and I see the handiwork of a great people.

"We built this city, just as we built this nation. It was us, the people of Capile, not the aristocrats or the corporate elite, who drained its swamps, cleared its forests, and tilled its fields. The reason why the old monarchy bore even a semblance of greatness was solely because of us, its people, and our indefatigable desire for greatness.

"And who has destroyed this city? Who has destroyed this nation?" He searched his audience for a few seconds before supplying the answer. In a thunderous voice, he cried out, "The Monarchy!

"They and their unwitting cronies, the Marxists and the secessionists, have realized the threat we pose. Now that we have finally become aware of our potential for greatness, of how great we can become without them to hold us back, they turn on us without a second's hesitation. Tell me, would a government that truly cared for its people bomb them, as it has here? Would it desecrate one of the most historic monuments to its own history, just for some petty tactical advantage?"

Nemetz gave his audience no reprieve. He had been building, and now he erupted ferociously, "The Monarchy has destroyed the Reichsrat, their own capitol, and murdered scores of their own people along with it. They left thousands of their soldiers here to die, starved them and forced them to fight on for a lost cause! They did the same at Nordlingen, and at Mühlburg, which has just surrendered to our forces. They have had to import foreign mercenaries because their own people, our people, are unwilling to fight against a just cause! The Monarchy wants to destroy us!"

Nemetz paused, and lowered his voice slightly. "Then who will stand by our side, by the side of the Capilean people? The Fatherland Front," he answered, eyes gleaming and voice beginning to raise again. The onlookers were enthralled. "It was us, the Fatherland Front, who cleared the rubble, tended to the wounded, and rescued the poor orphans that the Monarchists left behind. We took in thousands of the soldiers they left behind, and now they stand before as Stoßwehr men, finally shown the truth! It is us, the Fatherland Front, who will rebuild Saxtonburg, and make it the capital of our new nation!

"My people," he surged onward, "I have a vision for the future. A vision wherein the shackles of Monarchy are removed, the petty aristocrats done away with. I foresee a Capile rebuilding from this civil war, and emerging from its crucible stronger than ever! The enemy's vision, of internationality and peace and Marxism, is a lie. The fact that it is an untruth is proven simply by looking around, at the devastation that the enemy caused to its own countrymen, the devastation that we repaired.

"We are willing to repair the entire country. All we ask is for you to join us, to reject the enemy's lies and accept your destiny of greatness. This is our vision for the future."

Perfectly on cue, the curtain behind Nemetz collapsed. The crowd gasped as the massive sketch the curtain had concealed was unveiled.


Nemetz's conclusion was fiery, his audience electrified. "We have already begun construction, construction on Capile's new future. I implore you, the Capilean people, to join us, to seize control of your own destiny. As of today, we are no longer a political party or an organization. We are a nation."
He paused weightily.

"I proclaim the dawn," he roared, "of the Capilean Reich!"


Wilhelm Knott gave Admiral Kreutz time to make his argument, but was not impressed by it.

"You speak so seriously about this being a propaganda victory, that by denying our enemy an intact Reichsrat, we have somehow harmed their image." Knott's eyes flashed like daggers. "Is this a joke? Do you realize, Admiral, that we have just given the VF the greatest propaganda victory of the century!" he growled.

"Destroying our own capital building- the Fascists will seize on that for years. They will claim that we are out to kill our own people, to destroy our own monuments, they'll say that we're already losing the war! Even if they somehow fail to say that, which they won't, they'll still have enough sense to tell the rest of the world that we're desperate. And I can name more than a few nations that will believe that we're desperate after we destroyed our own capital building!"

Knott took a breath, and ground his teeth. "I can somewhat understand your rationale, Admiral. I would no sooner see the enemy stomp through the hallowed halls of my government house than die. But this, this was too far. And I can damn well say that it will have serious repercussions for me, you, and the whole damned war. I can understand you, sure, but what about the people? They won't take 'tactical sacrifice' for an answer, and they'll start to believe whatever nonsense Nemetz will be spouting about this.

"I'm going to be spending the next few weeks dealing with the ramifications of this, and rest assured, I will be in touch with your government, but for now, know this. You and your comrades will not even consider placing a Capilean city under your crosshairs without explicit consent from me."


General Klerk thought pensively for a moment, but then replied firmly, "Option One is much preferred. I value the lives of your brave soldiers much higher than those of the Communist scum. They must be preserved at all costs- but I also want to avoid innocent casualties as much as possible. So, Option One."

He took a deep breath. "I will order my aircraft to support the breakout operation as much as and in any way possible. God be with you." With that, Klerk bid his German counterpart farewell and turned to his pressing duties.

The 16. Panzer was beset on all sides by enemies. Scrounging forward through the underbrush, Communist troops, adapting to warfare quite well, cornered tank and man alike, fighting like wildcats to bring down as many of their enemies as possible. Their generals had ordered them to inflict mass casualties, but also to take prisoners. Communism was always recruiting.

Overhead, the Royalists had achieved near-complete air superiority. The BSU's air force was minuscule and staffed by outdated aircraft; as such, it was mainly ground-based anti-aircraft platforms that combated the Royalist planes. But even as the enemy jets thundered overhead, the Communists pressed on. The political commissars left them no alternative.


Heinrich Heller, Lieutenant General, accepted the sword of the grim-faced Royalist officer across from him, who looked more like a common soldier than a well-bred commander. His face was blackened by dirt and dust, his uniform tattered, and his insignia torn to shreds. The surrender had been impromptu, and the fighting had still been raging just an hour ago. A pair of icy blue eyes peered out from the mask, defiant to the end.
That defiance would be broken, and the Royalist general Sachse would be minted as an officer in the Stoßwehr. That, or he would rot in a prison.

Heller turned to his subordinates, and congratulated them. After so many months, Mühlburg was finally theirs. What had sealed the surrender was a bombing run by the VF's newfound ally, Great Haida. Unfortunately, it had also sealed the fates of a good many civilians and structures.

After he had seen to it that the Royalist troops were disarmed and taken to the railroad depot, where they would be shipped off to a prisoner-of-war camp in the countryside, Heller went back to his field headquarters and authored a short letter to the commander of the allied forces. Afterward, he turned on his radio set, just in time to hear a speech given by the man who had won his admiration, Walther Nemetz.

Heller sat enthralled, tuning out the bustle of the army outside, and by the end of Nemetz's speech, his mind was swimming. "A Reich," he said to himself, tasting the word and loving it. "A Reich," the little man confirmed, and then, "a Reich!" If the VF hadn't been worth fighting for, a Reich certainly was.
To: The General Staff of Great Haida
From: Lieutenant General Heinrich Heller, C.O. 1. Stoßarmee

Greetings treasured allies,

I congratulate you on our shared victory over Mühlburg. Without your aid, the siege might have lasted much longer.

However, I must request that in the future, you restrict your use of such powerful ordnance to non-urban areas. Against purely enemy formations, weapons such as the massive ordnance air blast are prudent and effective. In areas muddled with civilians and structures, however, they are less prudent. Not only did the bombing result in several hundred civilian casualties, but it also rendered a great deal of Mühlburg's industrial district, quite valuable to our cause, unusable. Furthermore, this presents the opportunity for our enemy to seize on civilian casualties to defame our cause.

We are grateful for your assistance, but once more, simply request that you refrain from using such deadly weapons in circumstances where it could cause civilian or industrial casualties.

Heinrich Heller
Lt. General

PostPosted: Wed Jun 05, 2019 7:11 pm
by New United States of Columbia
Flight Deck
H.E.S. Hans Wilhelm VII (Pacific Ocean)

War alone brings up to their highest tension all human energies and imposes the stamp of nobility upon the peoples who have the courage to take it.
-Benito Mussolini

The men on the flight deck started upon hearing the jet engines. Once they noticed how Hancock did not start upon hearing them, they gradually resumed their normal duties. The automated defenses IFF registered the apporaching aircraft as friendlies and did not engage. Once the jets touched down, the crewmen of the Hans Wilhelm VII ran to care for the aircraft, their tired and exhausted complextion a stark difference to the calm and “shiny” complextion of the Capilean pilots. When the helicopter touched down, everyone stopped and gaped at the seemingly monsterous guards.
“I didn’t know those Germanics could get so tall...” one of the crewmen whispered to his comrade. The companion nodded as he rubbed his bloodshot eyes, pondering if they were good at their jobs or just for show.

Hancock returned the salute of Kristof, his sapphire eyes looking at the pin. A memeber of Nemetz’s cabinet... he thought to himself. At least he wasn’t being blown off. He noticed the man’s gesture and nodded. He made his own gesture towards the tower with his head.
“We can talk in my office.” he said simply as the headed into the colossal ship.

Down they went, past many rooms on their way to Hancock’s office. They passed many members of the NCRC who saluted when they saw the two Fascist leaders. Once in the belly of the ship Hancock opened a bulkhead door to reveal a recreation of the Oval Office. Inside they found a clash of aesthetics with the plain grey metallic walls of the ship and harsh L.E.D.S in conflict with a large fine mahogony desk with plush armchairs and portraits and paintings of leaders, pioneers of science and industry, and important events throughout Columbian History.
“Quite a strane sensation I’ll confess,” Hancock said as he strode to be seated behind his “Presidential desk” and sat down “but it’s the closest I can get to what should’ve been my rightful office following Foley’s purple shirts assassinating my previous masters of the McKinley Administration.”
He gestured to one of the chairs as an indication for Kristof to be seated.
“Now, tell me, what is it we can do to be of use to our Capilean allies?”

Imperial Palace, Columbian Mainland

War, at the best, is terrible, and this war of ours, in its magnitude and in its duration, is one of the most terrible.
-Abraham Lincoln

Foley could hardly sleep that night. The plan kept repeating itself in his head, a million things going wrong. Sometimes just one “x-factor” being changed, sometimes all of them at once. He thought of himself being part of the assault, like he was back in the Corps as a Sergeant. He thought of the men getting cut down by machine gun fire, torn limb from limb by artillery, the sea turned red with the cadavers of dead marines and soldiers, the skyline turned black with the thick smoke of burning ships, the oil from them igniting the salty water of the sea. His body twitched as his nightmare went on. His eyes flew open as he stared at the canopy of the bed. He looked to his left to see his Queen, Adina Foley, sleeping peacefully, her light breathing the only sound he could hear throughout the whole room. Getting out of the large and surprisingly soft bed, he slipped into a bathrobe and headed down to the kitchens, spotting one of the cooks still up as he finished tidying up the palace kitchen. Startled, the man dropped his broom before hastily picking it back up and stammering out a request as to what Paul wanted.
“Coffee,” he replied simply as he headed out to the dining hall and taking a seat “with lots of caffeine. I can hardly think in this state.”

Several minutes later the monarch had the scent of French Vanilla coaxing him awake as he drummed his fingers on the table. His mind slowly firing up as his mind returned to the war plan. He mentally looked at a giant map of Capile and thought it over. A naval assault on Pritzen, on their own, would be next to impossible to enact. Undoubtedly it’d be heavily defended and absorb so many Columbian troops that holding it would not be happening as it’d assuredly fall to the Communists again. Then sending, at most, three expeditionary forces in a non-advisor or special ops manner was rather foolish. Either they’d commit to conventional forces or they’d have to send in special operations forces to assist and train up locals and harass the communists, fascists, and secessionists. He sighed as he placed his face into his hands. When the general staff woke up, he’d have to reascertain their educations if he could, seemingly half asleep, find gaping holes in the plan.

PostPosted: Tue Jun 18, 2019 11:27 am
by New Decius
Case Indigo; Retreat From Raus
Grand Duchy of Nova Capile

Thanks to the aid of the Royalist aircraft, the 16. Panzer Division had managed to open a gap in the Red encirclement and was now streaming through back towards friendly lines while all around them the Imperial German Expeditionary Force began its organized withdrawal from the battlefield while under the cover of both the Royalist aircraft and their own artillery batteries. Leutnantgeneral von Brauchwist was steadily withdrawing his troops from combat while at the same time making sure his artillery and infantry rear guard were laying down sufficient cover to keep the Communist forces from attempting their own blitz offensive to try and wipe out the German forces in retreat. Though while his withdrawal was indeed steady and organized, there was an element of haste and urgency involved since not only were more of the BSU’s professional troops beginning to show their faces as they probed Brauchwist’s retreating forces, but also because if they did not withdraw quick enough they would be hit by their own airstrike. The Luftwaffe had launched the strategic bombers from Deutsch Ost-Afrika as soon as Brauchwist received the all clear from Klerk several hours ago to conduct a strategic air strike on Capilean soil, and already the supersonic bombers were approaching the North-Western Capilean Coast; they would have to pass over VF territory to reach Raus but there was little to no risk of any being shot down since the bombers flew so high and so fast that both interceptors and surface to air missiles barely had any chance at all of bringing one down. The three squadrons would proceed over their target zone within the next hour or so and then the fifteen bombers would rain hundreds of thousands of pounds of munitions down on the Reds.

And yet despite all the troops falling back to their designated rally point around him, Leutnantgeneral Johannes von Brauchwist remained at his post at the site of his former command center which he had already ordered evacuated, his adjutant Leutnant Weber had screamed bloody murder protesting the Leutnantgeneral staying there but Brauchwist gave him a direct order to withdraw. To defy such an order was to risk a court martial and possibly execution for defiance of a direct order by a superior officer. Not that Johannes would ever actually court martial Anton Weber, the man had been his adjutant for going on seven years now when the then Oberst (Colonel) Brauchwist acquired him from the 12. Fallschirmjäger in Deutsch-Indochina where the young Unterfeldwebel had been part of one of the many jungle squads that clashed with the Red partisans in Indochina. But he had to make it convincing to make sure all his subordinates got away from the potential danger zone if the enemy did decide to make an advance on their position. He had left orders with Weber elevating Majorgeneral Niemens to the command of the Expeditionary Force should he not return from the battlefield.

The reason Johannes had stayed behind was to observe the airstrike about to take place, after all every man should witness the destruction he shall reap upon the Earth. Finally the time came as the last of Brauchwist’s forces managed to escape the combat zone, and just in time as the rumble of the bomber’s engines filled the air, from there it happened extremely fast. The Heinkel He-34 Supersonic Strategic Bomber was designed to be able to deliver either heavy tonnage munitions for carpet bombing or precision bombing even at its high speeds and extreme altitude, its bombsight being a truly next generational targeting device that could put a bomb on a pfennig from 60,000 feet. The total tonnage of munitions each bomber could carry was 120,000 pounds.

So when the first squadron made its pass over the Communist positions, it was like the Earth had suddenly decided to erupt thunderous fire upon the Red’s. A line of horrendous and mighty explosions detonated along the BSU’s lines and Johannes could almost hear the volley of screams coming from the Communist’s if they weren’t drowned out by all the explosions, thousands to tens of thousands of enemy troops killed or wounded in just one squadron’s pass with six hundred thousand pounds of bombs. The towns in which the Communist’s were encamped effectively were turned into nothing more than ruined hovels while the defensive fortifications just collapsed, meanwhile the BSU’s civilian militia was gutted because so many of them had been dispersed into the countryside when they had been attacking the German forces. There was no time for the Reds to recover at all or even try to get out of the way when the second squadron made its pass over the target zones and unleashed another airborne hell upon the enemy as a new set of explosions wreaked furious havoc upon them. By the time all of the bombs had dropped during the short lull between the second and third squadron’s pass, Johannes could see through his binoculars that the towns surrounding Raus and the heavily wooded areas around said had simply ceased to be; all that was left was just a massive line of large craters and charred debris left still smoking. All of this was simply pounded even more into the dirt by the third bomber pass which seemed to only serve as a terror display for the BSU rather than an actual attack since the first and second squadrons had already obliterated anything worth destroying.

’Well I’ll probably have to buy General Feisler a drink when I get back for lending me his bomber squadrons.’ Surveying the damage, Johannes could only breathe a sigh of relief as he saw that none of the bombs had even come close to hitting Raus itself but the forward defensive positions the BSU had setup were destroyed. More than that they were simply, gone was the best word to describe what he saw in front of him. Given how heavily the Red’s had sallied forth to engage his forces, Johannes had no doubt that several hundred thousand Communist troops had been in the line of fire and by the look of it very few if any survived that airstrike, and there was no telling how many weapons and equipment the Reds had also lost.

If Leutnantgeneral Johannes von Brauchwist had been an ambitious man he might have countermanded his own retreat orders and commanded his troops back into the field to take advantage of the enemy’s heavy losses, but he was a sensible man instead. He had not only used up too much of his available supplies and munitions in his brief offensive but also the Royalists could not keep redirecting their own vital aircraft to cover his troops. Not too mention that despite their losses, the Communist’s still had hundreds of thousands of troops inside Raus along with an armed civilian population which he could not overcome without significant reinforcements and a battleplan geared towards a long term siege offensive of Raus.

Kaiser Friedrich III Airbase, Outside Dresden
Kingdom of Prussia, German Empire
Deployment of Operation Hannibal

Built in 1984 and named for the second Emperor of a united Germany, Kaiser Friedrich III Airbase was the largest military airbase in the German Empire and frequently used for the overseas deployment of entire field armies, it was also the primary site of deployment for the troops of Operation Hannibal to Capile. Other smaller amounts of troops were deploying from airbases in Italy and France which were donating several divisions apiece to the Operation though under German command while retaining their own divisional commanders for frontline deployment. The concern that the Capilean’s might not allow the French troops to serve on their soil was dismissed by the hope that the noticeable similarity between the French and German uniforms as well as the French Royal Standard proudly displayed on their uniforms would distinguish them from the French rebelling against the Capilean Royalists. Also a pompous propaganda ceremony had been dreamed up by Capilean and German official’s where Capilean representatives would witness the French troops swear loyalty to His Imperial Majesty the Kaiser first and then His Royal Majesty Jéan-Christoph Napoleon the King of the French second so that it could be used for propaganda broadcasts against the Free French State, alongside a few broadcasts that the French Kingdom would be producing to try and reel away recruits from the Free French. The Oberste Heeresleitung was less concerned about possible tensions between the Royal Italian Army and the Capilean Royalists largely because there were no Italian’s rebelling against Capile but also because the reforms Germany helped implement in the Royal Italian Army during the 80’s and 90’s had helped turn them from the third rate fighting force they were in the Second World War into a proper first rate army.

Another method of playing propaganda with the Capilean’s was the choice of commander for Operation Hannibal, since a great commander whom was also media savvy was required to inspire confidence in not only the Royalists looking to their old ally for aid but also, more importantly, to make sure the German people did not waver in their commitment to the war. Though the Kaiser was the only one Regensburg answered to and also the only one who could declare an end to Germany’s participation in the war, the Reichstag could remove the Kaiser from the throne and pressure his successor to pull out, and the Reichstag answered to the German people whom would begin to voice their concerns come the next elections should the war drag on too long or the death toll too high. They could also voice their concerns and weigh upon the provincial nobility whom sat in the Reichsrat, the Federal Council made up of the land-owning aristocrats whom approved or denied amendments to the Constitution, but could also choose the Kaiser’s successor if it was felt his Majesty’s heir was incapable or too controversial.

So Kaiserliche Marschall Dietrich von Regensburg had pulled out all the stops in appointing who he felt was the right commander for the job, quite literally having an officer flown in all the way from the Achilles Exercises in Siberia where Germany and Russia were conducting war games on the Chinese border to take up the command. Right now Regensburg, in his full ceremonial regalia, there were a number of media teams present getting footage of the deployment, alongside the six General’s whom would command the six field armies being deployed in Operation Hannibal, awaiting the arrival of the designated Field Marshal commanding of the Capilean Theater. An eighth man was also standing at Regensburg’s side, garbed even more ornately than he in a white uniform included a coat-tailed jacket and pristine shining jackboots accompanied by a regal blue cape, the Imperial European emblem (An Iron Cross encircled by the 12 Golden Stars of Europe) pinned to his lapel denoted he was of a rank that even Regensburg couldn’t punish. For that reason Kaiserliche Marschal Dietrich von Regensburg could not stand His Grace, Sir Julian von Mariotte a Knight of the Order of the Iron Eagle, the Knightly Order charged with the protection of the Imperial German (Therefore the Imperial European) Throne and acting as the personal agents of His Majesty in all affairs. Though conventional Knightly Orders had been thrown away decades ago, in the 1970’s when war was brewing in Europe and there was a direct threat to the Germania Dynasty which culminated in the assassination of two Imperial Prince’s, a new Knightly Order was created as a special bodyguard to be charged with the protection of all members of the Kaiser’s Dynasty and only to be made up of the finest soldiers in the Kaiserreich. The Knight’s of the Iron Eagle were picked from all walks of life, it was a small order (Numbering no more than twenty at its largest in 1994) but one that acted as a meritocracy, background, race, religion mattered for nothing so long as they could defend His Majesty’s House and uphold their oath of fealty to the monarch. For this they were granted titles of nobility, lavish estates, authority above even the Reichskanzler or the Kaiserliche Marschal, and also access as the sole non-blood confidents of the Kaiser, as well as a full company worth of personal soldiers whom swore oath’s of loyalty to them. They were the most elite of the elite, being both skilled frontline fighters and master tactician’s, as well as capable of ingratiating themselves with the highest levels of the aristocracy and social ladder with well practiced ease.

’There are only two reasons that the Kaiser would have sent a Knight here when Rommel is due to arrive. Either he is sending Sir Mariotte to Capile to escort his cousin Princess Elizabeth of Austria and Hungary back to Europe, or to guard her in the event she remains in Capile. Or he is going along to observe Rommel’s command and make sure I am not influencing him towards a drawn out war to build up the military and field test a few new weapons before we return to peace status and Reichstag oversight. Not that I or anyone else could ever influence the ‘Steel Wolf’ about anything.’ Regensburg’s chosen commander for the Capilean Theater was none other than His Excellency Generalfeldmarschall Joachim Rommel, the famed ‘Steel Wolf’ and great-grandson of the even more famed Erwin Rommel. Rommel, much like his great-grandfather was a national hero in Germany, having served in the Levant War, the Soviet-German War, the French Intervention, the Finnish Civil War, and the Indochina War as a frontline commander whom performed above and beyond all the rest in every battle and also endeared himself to his men by actually coming up to the front to command. He was a hero even on foreign shores as well due to his media savvy personality and talent for playing the social circles, his military achievements already impressive as they were. He was also very hotheaded when it came to dealing with senior staff officers like Regensburg or the members of the Joint Chief’s, to the point of almost being insubordinate; he was blunt to the point of ruthless when he interacted with the few officers high enough ranked to be his superior and it had almost cost him his rank sometimes only he was too popular with the public and the Kaiser to demote. ’I pity any of the Capilean officers who try to block his path with bureaucracy or red tape.’

As the VTOL transport came to a soft landing in front of them, the small honor guard came to attention as the famous soldier stepped off the craft and approached the group. Though the six General’s snapped to attention and saluted the Generalfeldmarschall, Rommel himself sketched out a quick salute to Regensburg and a respectful bow of the head to Mariotte before he shook hands with Regensburg. Joachim Rommel was a man in his early fifties but with the fit stocky figure of a man half his age due to many years as a frontline officer, and wore a devilish smirk which pierced through even his hardened features which included a long scar which ran down beneath his left eye to his chin, a parting gift from a Libyan Warlord whom had once held the then Leutnant Rommel prisoner for three weeks. “Kaiserliche Marschall von Regensburg, its a pleasure to see you again sir though I hope this lull in excitement does not last long, the war games were rather fun I have to say especially seeing those prototype Fuchs 1A in action, those new tanks are something.” The Achilles Exercises were staged every four years near the Chinese border and ranged between Vladivostok and Khabarovsk with as many as three hundred thousand troops participating, and it was also a great testing ground for new weapons either in early production or late prototype stage. This year the scientists at Krauss-Maffei were using the war games as a way to field test their latest main battle tank prototype the Fuchs (Fox) 1A which would be Germany’s first 4th Generation Main Battle Tank incorporating new automated features and a new type of reactive armor as well as a prototype stealth system. “Its a pity there aren’t enough of them yet to outfit a full Panzer Battalion then I could bring them with me and show those fascist swine why you don’t try and hunt the Wolf, for the Wolf hunts you.” Rommel was famous for his tactics with armored warfare and logistics much like his great-grandfather but he was also famous for his more subtle tactics which involved turning a battle into a case of hunter (Rommel) against the hunted (enemy) by wearing down the enemy morale and exhausting their troops. “Well now opening statements out of the way lets get down to business, what shall my command entail?”

Good right to business, the sooner they got to Capile the better. Regensburg gestured to the six General’s still standing at attention alongside him. “Generalfeldmarschall Rommel, you are to the Supreme Commander of German and European Forces in the Capilean Theater and as such are to the appointed commander of the following. You shall have six field armies at your command split between two army groups; the first is Heeresgruppe Beowulf consisting of the 22nd Armee under General Heinrich Ulräch, the 12th Armee under General Lilian von Schneider, and the 16th Armee under General Ludwig Witold. The second is Heeresgruppe Siegfried consisting of the 25th Armee under General Albert von Brüchliger, the 30th Armee under General Hubertus Ströhm, and the 71st Armee under General Helga Gërhart.” As he introduced them, each of the officers did the traditional Prussian heel click salute when their name and command was called. Rommel was completely unfazed by the presence of not one but two female officers in the group, he was after all one of the advocates towards equality in the military in regards to advancement and achievement, all that mattered was the results you could deliver, nothing more nothing less. “Each field army will be at full strength, three hundred thousand troops, each divided into six corps and each corps divided further into two divisions giving you a grand total of one million eight hundred thousand troops split between seventy-two divisions and thirty-six corps. However bear in mind that since each field army has been organized to contain several dedicated medical and logistics divisions you cannot commit the entire force for frontline combat, similarly unless needed for frontline duty you will be expected to lend out your engineer troops to the Capilean’s if they should need assistance in either reconstruction or fortification efforts.”

“Alright thats all well and good, and I presume you have already sent plans for the deployment to the Capilean General’s Staff so they can properly prepare both the sea ports and airports we shall be arriving at and assist us in setting up base camps at the designated areas. Due to the immense amount of troops we obviously can’t transport the whole force directly to Capile so I imagine we’ll be sending it to Ost-Afrika for a short time, not only so the Capilean’s can prepare but also so that the Luftwaffe and Kaiserliche Marine can get their own pieces into position.” Rommel had already gamed out the entire plan just from observation and his own strategic mind.

“You are also to be accompanied by a special French and Italian Expeditionary Force comprised of three French and two Italian divisions whom are already underway to Africa Orientale Italiana (Italian East Africa (Ethiopia, Somaliland/Somalia, Eritrea)) and will arrive before you do in Capile at which point they will be under the command of Leutnantgeneral Johannes von Brauchwist whom is currently commanding the Imperial German Expeditionary Force in Capile but after their arrival he will be promoted to full General. His command will nominally be under the Capilean’s direction including the French and Italian divisions, but under no circumstances are you to place any of your forces under Capilean command.” If Regensburg got so much as a hint Rommel had allowed the Capilean’s to command any more German forces than they’d been allowed, he’d have the ‘Steel Wolf’ back in Berlin and on trial like a shot.

“Well I suppose that leaves only one detail remaining to work out before I start getting to know the members of my command and we depart for another adventure.” Rommel looked Sir Mariotte directly in the eye though the Knight only stared blankly back at him. “To what do we owe the honor of a member of His Imperial Majesty’s Knightly Order joining us this day?” There existed an awkwardness between the Knights of the Iron Eagle and the high command of the German armed forces, or at least the OHL felt awkward because technically the Knights did not exist in the military chain of command yet could give orders to their troops by asking them to swear themselves to the Kaiser’s personal service for the duration that a Knight needed them. It often frustrated senior General’s when their best troops were stolen out from under them to assist on special assignments for His Majesty.

“I am to accompany the Generalfeldmarschall to Capile where I shall seek out Her Royal Highness the Princess Elizabeth of Austria and Hungary and act as her escort back to Germany or act as bodyguard to Her Highness should she insist on staying in Capile. I will not interfere with the Generalfeldmarschall’s command unless I receive direction from a member of the Imperial Household to do so.” That was a veiled hint that it had not been the Kaiser himself who had given the Knight his assignment, His Majesty Josef Franz likely still too shaken by the kidnapping of his cousin and the hasty change in the military situation. More than likely His former Majesty Wilhelm Augustus III had pulled the strings for this assignment in order to not only protect his Great-Niece but also keep an eye on the situation in Capile in a way that Regensburg and the OHL wouldn’t be entirely truthful about.

At last Rommel was ready to depart and, flanked by his General's and Sir Mariotte, made for the transport which would carry him to Capile. And to battle...

PostPosted: Fri Jun 21, 2019 7:17 pm
by The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile


Kristof Neuenreich followed Hancock deeper into the ship, taking in the distinct feel of the vessel. Judging from the bustling offices and variation of people- officers, politicians, even secretaries- they passed as they descended, the pretender to the presidency had managed to compress the entire apparatus of the American government into a single warship.
The hulking guards stayed behind, saying nothing. The Capilean fighter pilots, smaller and affable, made conversation with the Columbians in near-perfect English.

When they entered Hancock's recreation of the oval office, the Party Chief grinned.

"You've done well for yourself, Mr. President, with things as they are," he said as he sat. His counterpart wasted no time in getting to the point of their meeting. Leaning forward, Kristof answered him.

"I won't lie to you, Mr. President: I believe without a doubt that the Fatherland Front will win this war. We have the manpower, the equipment, the training, and the leadership to do so, but most importantly we have the will to win. Our entire populace wills us to triumph, as does a good portion of the Capileans being ruled by false governments.

"Therefore, I am not going to ask for volunteers, supplies, or monetary aid, although, being a prudent man, I would not decline any such offers either, should you wish to present them. However, there is one thing in particular which we are interested in, that being your advanced grasp of technology.

"As many of the VF's top-ranking personnel formerly served the monarchy in critical posts, we are well aware of the scientific collaboration that occurred between our two nations. Several of our researchers, as well as military men who served during the Great Divisions, are convinced that your faction is in possession of schematics and, perhaps, prototypes of weaponry and equipment that could be described as 'war-winning.'" Neuenreich paused and locked eyes with Hancock. "The Front's most immediate desire is to resume collaboration on these projects, in the hopes that some could soon be brought to fruition.

"There are numerous secure and secretive laboratories within our territory that your researchers could be quartered in, and assisted by the greatest minds of my nation and state-of-the-art equipment, their scientific work could continue." Kristof allowed Hancock to digest this information for a few seconds before continuing. "In addition, we could offer the same housing to your entire organization. I am sure that your personnel would like to stretch their legs," he smiled. "And, since I presume they haven't seen combat in some time, perhaps your servicemen wouldn't mind polishing their skills by gunning down a few Marxists. What do you say, Mr. President?"


The large, ruddy face of General-Secretary Terry Blücher dominated Gerhard Koch's vision. The visage of the leader of the Fraternal Socialist Union took up nearly the entirety of the screen, which had been installed within the general's office in order to facilitate rapid communication between the two severed heads of the Revolution.

"Long live the Revolution!" Koch said as soon as Blücher flickered into view, practically jumping up from his chair and saluting. Blücher nodded gravely, his thick brown brows knitting in silent, volatile anger. His eyes, the color of steel, only confirmed his rage.

"I want a full report on the battle, Comrade General Koch," the General-Secretary ground out.

"Of course, Comrade General-Secretary," Gerhard responded, glancing nervously at the reports spread across his narrow desk. "Initially our forces made quick work of repelling the Monarchists, driving them away from the city and managing to encircle an entire armored division belonging to Germany. They inflicted mass casualties on the attackers, but the encircled division managed to break out. I ordered our advance elements to pursue the retreating enemy. Shortly afterward, an enemy bombing run inflicted mass casualties on our defensive lines and our rearguard units. After the bombing ended, I recalled our vanguard troops and retreated to the fallback line just outside the city. The enemy was reluctant to reengage us, however, and appears to have retreated outside of attacking range."

Gerhard took a breath, and then continued, "Estimated casualties from the battle are up to ten thousand for us and possibly twice as much for our enemy, who was ill-prepared to meet a head-on counteroffensive. The bombing, however, completely shattered almost a dozen divisions and damaged many others. Projected casualties range from fourty to one-hundred and twenty thousand."

Blücher did not immediately respond, but was clearly upset by this news. At length, he opened his mouth and spoke. "Thank you, Comrade General, though you have only confirmed news I collected earlier. Effective immediately, martial law shall be declared within Raus. All able-bodied men and women will be armed and trained to defend themselves and the Revolution to the death. Anyone engaged in unessential employment will be immediately conscripted into the Labor Corps, and will either assist in fortifying Raus or will take up an essential occupa-" Blücher paused and raised a heavy eyebrow when Koch opened his mouth to object. "Is something wrong, Comrade?" he asked.

"Apologies, Comrade General-Secretary... It is just that I feel as if these orders would best be directed at the overall commander of Raus, Comrade Commander Valentin."

"Ah, yes," Blücher said after a moment of heavy silence, frowning. "I forgot to inform you, Comrade General. My agents in the city have ensured that Comrade Valentin will never again threaten the success of the Revolution. You will be taking his place as Front Commander, but I hope you do not repeat his mistakes." The General-Secretary smiled thinly.
"The city's fate is in your hands, Comrade. Do not disappoint the Revolution."