Back to 1935 (Tiandi/Eulhae/Closed)

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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Back to 1935 (Tiandi/Eulhae/Closed)

Postby Toishima » Tue May 09, 2017 7:26 pm

Eulhae War 1935 - 1941

In 1935, the most devastating conflict ever seen by mankind occurred, lasting some six years, with some of the related conflicts beginning even earlier than that, and involving over 100 million people in over 30 countries. Over 50 million to 85 million people lost their lives in this conflict, which was to many sides differently a struggle of ideologies, a struggle of races, a struggle for territory or a struggle for freedom. From the brutal bombing campaigns and naval warfare of the Sinju Theatre to the horrific atrocities and spectacular mass tank battles of the Uju War, the Eulhae War was the first and last global war.

Heroes and criminals existed on both sides. Atrocities and acts of great kindness came from both sides in every theatre. In the death and destruction of the war, the common man was too often reduced to nothing but a number on the maps and charts of those in command, and when the war was over those individual actions were forgotten in the post-war nationalistic fervour that prosecuted entire races based on their political leaders' actions. But while numerous criminals would be tried and executed and numerous heroes would rise and give great inspiration to their peoples, those that truly bled and died for their nation are too often forgotten in the annals of the destructive conflict.

But some memories are forgotten for a reason.

Invitation-Only Zone 16
Akaishi Province
Greater Empire of Akitsukuni

Another group of relocated natives were coming in, probably from some of the liberated areas past the western border. The winter was in full-force now, and snow was falling at a rapid rate. The wind, oh the wind, it got into everything no matter how many layers you wore. For me, it was two - a thin fur coat and a cotton-stuffed uniform beneath. That wasn't enough to fight Shogun Winter, but when your government regards you as worth less than the weapon you held, you made it enough. Compared to the darker-skinned people streaming in through the gates from the train station, I was like some king. Few even had coats, and some didn't even have shirts, with rags wrapped around their bodies in a poor attempt at fighting the wind. A few collapsed, but some of my fellow guards went to help them up.

These people evolved here and built their culture here, on this land in Uju. It was so sad that they were in such a state. Self-destructive greed and traditionalist primitivism led to their current state on the fringes of society, and with the current war they would need to be moved for their own safety. That's what these Invitation-Only Zones were for; entire camps and villages had been built for them to live in, and they would come and live here in safety within the Empire until the war was over, then they would be relocated to places in their original states where they would not interfere with Akitsukunese settlement. Those that didn't sign up were brought here by force, regrettably, since it was too dangerous for these simple-minded people to live near front lines.

They formed a loose mob outside of the administrative building, no orderly queues like Akitsukunese would naturally form. We had to shout at them over the wind to get them in line, then slowly began admitting people into the building. Their few belongings were searched thoroughly, we did not want any weapons or contraband to end up inside the Zone, after all. Some arguments broke out after this stage as we confiscated their belongings for disinfection, though our trained civilian workers were able to defuse the situations that arose. After that, we split them into males and females, then brought them to the showers to get cleaned up. The train ride had been days long, and many had not bathed for weeks due to the war. So I brought them into the mass showers, groups of fifty at a time. Many were afraid that it would be too cold, but we told them the water was warm.

So around fifty male natives of all ages were now inside the well-lit shower room. I closed the door behind me, like I had done many times before by now, and placed a hand on the knob attached to a pipe next to the door. On time, a truck backed up on the access road behind me and five guys got ready to help load the natives in once they were done.

"I'm going to turn on the water now. Get ready, guys," I said loudly and sternly so all of them inside the room could hear. Murmuring rose inside the room.

I turned the knob, like I had done at least half a dozen times already that day.

Suddenly, someone started banging on the door, his hands clanging against the steel, painted to look like wood.

The standard panicked screaming as they realised:

It wasn't water that hissed out of those showerheads.
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Capitalist Paradise

Postby Intermountain States » Fri May 12, 2017 3:05 am


Somewhere in Akitsukuni
Final Months of Eulhae
Commonwealth of Buyeo

It was just a simple mission really. A battalion was locked up somwhere in Akashi and I was part of the five M4A3 Woldo Tanks were to meet up with a couple of Meisaani soldiers to provide armored support for the Meisaani reinforcements heading to the city. Initial resistance from the Imperial forces were low during our trek and were nothing that our .30 cal couldn't handle. They were largely stragglers and we thought our mission would be a breeze after the first day.

The second day was hell for us. On the road, we had yet to encounter any armed resistance so my upper body was exposed, enjoying the scenery. We then heard a loud whoosh and the tank in front of me exploded with the turret flying through the air. The commanding officer leading the trek ordered us to reverse with our front armor facing the direction of where the shot came. I quickly ordered Chang Kyonggi, the driver, to do the same while we all scrambled to find the source of the ambush. What we saw haunted me for the rest of my life.

We were expecting maybe a tank destroyer or a Chi-Ha, something that our tanks can handle. To our shock, it was a Yamashita Heavy tank. Our Woldo tanks for the most part were adequate enough to handle most of the armor fielded by Akistukuni in head to head combat. The Yamashitas were a different class of tanks, our 76 mm guns can't penetrate their frontal armor at such a range where their 122 mm cannon can. The M26 Pyeongjeon was the only tank that has sufficient firepower and armor to stand against the Yamashita with its 90 mm gun. Unfortunately, it was just four Woldos against a Yamashita, our chances of survival were already low.

The commanding officer's voice crackled on our radios, telling all of us to fire at the Yamashita. Im Jumo, our loader, loaded a 76mm AP shell and Go Yeon, our gunner, aimed and fired a round at the Yamashita. Booms could be heard from the four tanks as we moved forward at the Yamashita's direction, four tanks against one. Unfortunately, none of our shells penetrated the heavy tank and the Yamashita fired one round from its 122mm cannon. The tank to the right of me blew up and catched fire when the next round penetrated.

"They got Daum's tank!" I shouted to the radio.

"We must flank the enemy tank!" The officer responded. "Get that focused on your positions, I'll get my tank to go around."

We knew that known of our shells would penetrate so our best hope was to disorient the tank while it was loading, trying to take advantage of its slow reload speed. While the commander's tank started to go left, we start firing rounds at the Yamashita, try to blind it by firing machine gun rounds and HE shells at the front or having the shells kick the dirt up. Unfortunately, that barely did anything to hinder that Yamashita and the tank to the left of me blew up. The next shot from the enemy tank missed the commanding officer's tank. The enemy tank fired at us and missed. The second shot was a simple graze and only knocked out some additional plate armor we installed.

We were doing a pincer move against the Yamashita and with our top speed, we were almost forming a circle. The Yamashita had to position itself in a way that it needs to take out one of us while trying to provide adequate protection against our guns. The Yamashita fired at the commanding officer's tank due to that tank being the closest and immobilized it. We were going as fast as we could, trying to aim at the weak spot of the tank while the Yamashita slowly turned its turret toward our direction. It was a scramble at this point. We fired at the side but it only hit the dirt. The Yamashita fired at us and it barely missed us. I almost felt the 122 mm round flying near us. We quickly loaded our next round and fired. This time, our gun hit its mark and the Yamashita bursts into flames. We considered ourselves quite lucky in that skirmish but we lost 3 tanks trying to take down that lone Yamashita. We had to wait for the other Woldo crews to finish repairing their tank tracks before we continued on our journey.
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Left-wing Utopia

Postby Sabara » Fri May 12, 2017 10:18 pm

An excerpt from Nik-Ko-Te's novel Medicine Point, detailing the siege of Suiattle. Shortly after the book was published in 1949, Nik-Ko-Te was arrested in Meisaan for espionage on the behalf of the Elwhan government.

They had been leaving the city in droves. The businessmen with their modern spectacles and fine robes. Their wives, dressed to the throat in jewelry that could not be fit into the boxes that they staggered under. The fat, spoiled children, covered in luxurious thick robes that kept out the biting damp of a Ti Sqa winter. Then there were the rich of our kind, the x̌əč̓usadad. Those who had given up all dignity. They were the most pathetic. Those spiritless men, buried under the weight of a nation's disgust.

It was when this trickle stopped that we realized what was to come. The last civilian liner-turned refugee scow had left port, stuffed to the brim with collaborationists and bourgeoisie. The colonial authorities assured us that we, in the capital, would be protected from the worst. They paraded those scared boys in the streets and sent out the huge imposing batteries that promised to shoot any bomb out of the sky.

The refugees pouring into the City told a different story. No longer speaking in whispers, they cried openly about the blood desecrating the sacred soil of the nation. They had reached Tsaliqud pass. They were running amok throughout the valley. Mukilteo, Stillaguamish, Ksag... the Capital was in reach of their armies.

You could smell the fear. It rank.The dxʷsgʷad sat in front of the conquerers mansions, sitting with knees crossed and hands bent forward in prayer. Their soldiers gripped their rifles tighter and stared. The City itself was shrouded, covered in gray clouds pushed to the ground by the wind. Our river was overflowing its banks, the slums filling in with the fresh, sweet water of glacial melt. Even the tall cedars lining the avenues bent in submission.

It was only later that the bombs began to fall. They were uniform. The City burned amid the showering rain.

The artillery was getting closer. Boom. Boom. Boom. They had lied to us. No one was coming to save us.

The bombs were falling in a rhythmic beat.

My baby!

That cry pierced the soul of every parent in the City. The flames were running like deranged horses. A firestorm was spreading, the air was toxic and full of unearthly heat. Children, elderly- those who couldn't flee had no place in that devilish vortex.

Some said they were prepared to die, but we knew this to be a lie. Everyone was afraid to be a coward.

And then the bombs stopped.

And stopped.

And stopped.

The City was a ruin, yet the bombs stopped. The booming music of war still emanated from the outskirts, yet the City was no longer on fire. We rejoiced, delighted in our survival. The conquerers told us that the advance had been halted. Their armies would surely push forward, on the offense, once reinforcements arrived. It would be a wait, they said. Until then, they said, we must stay strong.

And we waited. We waited until the hours stretched into days, the days into weeks, the weeks into months, the months into years, the years into decades, the decades into centuries.

The food had stopped flowing into the city. Although the conquerers had bountiful pantries filled to the brim with rice and fish, we were expected to endure.

And we endured. The rotting corpses lining the avenues, the sickly elders who didn't deserve life as much as we did, the babies who could only suck life off the truly living- they were devoured in our desperation.

The conquerers? They cowered in their buildings of stones, their subterranean shelters. The stench of death did not reach them, nor their untouched homeland thousands of kilometers across the Sinju Sea.
Last edited by Sabara on Fri May 12, 2017 10:39 pm, edited 7 times in total.
A unique MT rp: Tiandi

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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Toishima » Sat May 20, 2017 2:49 am


The words were everywhere. Giant billboards, posters, flyers, the mouths of the green-clad Grasscutters... Some joked about it, some were angry about it, some spoke out against it, and some were never seen again.

It was painfully obvious that the war had turned the wrong way. The enemy was probably inside of the Empire already, despite the Empress's assurance that the Gods would not allow it and the valiant Imperial Army was still wiping them out beyond the Tenzan mountains. We knew nothing because it was so hard to get any information about the war within the walls. The walls that the Imperial Army built for our protection. The walls we were not allowed to leave because we were small, misguided, dumb children.

And then the air raids began. Heian had already transitioned to stone and concrete buildings for a long time but firebombs and high-explosives alike ripped through the poorer districts and then the financial districts. But these were never mentioned on the news, those who died were never honoured by the state until after the war, and everyone who had anyone to bury had to register the death under an "accident". Otherwise there would be more "accidents", even when the enemy planes were not overhead.

The men in green were everywhere at night, enforcing the curfew alongside the Army Kempeitai. Those wide-brimmed conical hats obscured their eyes as they went about their business, and we soon learned to fear not only the aircraft overhead but also these men and our neighbours, and even our family members. As the war moved into its final stages, the hordes of refugees surging into the capital brought with them the news, brought with them the undeniable truth that everyone knew all along. But the Empress did not want the truth to be out there, and so Her grasscutters went in to mow the lawn. Much has been spoken of what the Empire has done to the indigenous peoples of the lands they conquered... But too little about what they did to their own people in the most extreme of times. And then, while Her Imperial Highness's men moved to keep the city silent, the enemy aircraft began to come at all hours of the day. It is a miracle that Heian and her people even survived the war.

I recall one sight, though, one sight that will forever be with me.

"There is no war in Heian," the grasscutter said every day, almost in a trance of denial.

But when that hospital got bombed, and the grasscutter's mother was in it and not the Empress he was conditioned to follow unquestioningly, and he flung himself onto the rubble, and his hat was blown to the side by a breeze revealing an impressionable young man's face, and tears poured down his cheeks, and blood covered his hand that were for once his own;

That was the moment when there was, at long last, a war in Heian.
Last edited by Toishima on Sat May 20, 2017 2:51 am, edited 2 times in total.
Call me Aki. My primary RP nation is Yamatai in Ordis. We are an MT region with an exciting constructed world. Join us.
Singaporean Chinese Weeb who likes food, Japan, food, J-Pop, military stuff and Japanese food. Dislikes include Western Cultural Imperialism (ironically) and discussing politics (ironicallyly).
Straight. Otaku. Female. Asianist. Hello Project Wota.
This user supports the use of mechs, mecha and other legged machines in PMT and FT settings, and will use them.
Record word count for a single unbroken writing session: 27,154 words
Current flag is my Morning Musume '20 Oshimen, Sato Masaki.

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