Civil War in Luxembourg-Bavaria [IC|MT|Open]

[Luxembourg-Bavaria]

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Civil War in Luxembourg-Bavaria

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IC | OOC | DISCORD | MAPS

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An economic crisis in Luxembourg-Bavaria has fueled the old feud between East and West. Rebel groups on both sides are mobilizing for war. Peace is no longer an option.

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Guidelines

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1. Your first post must be an introductory post of some kind, with an official message of your government's support to the faction they are sending support to and the departure of said support(men/supplies/money/etc.)

2. Please refrain from spamming the thread. Take time and invest detail and effort into your posts. If you need to submit a post to keep the roleplay going, but don't have enough to write about, work on character development!

3. Always spell-check your posts. Proper grammar is a must.

4. No OOC posts should be submitted on this thread. OOC posts in the IC thread can easily derail a good roleplay, therefore all OOC comments should be confined to the OOC thread.

5. No god-modding, metagaming, future technology, taking control of someone else's character, etc. Absolutely no chemical weapons or weapons of mass destruction.

6. Feel free to write both from the perspective of your nation and from that of characters in your nation. Some ideas for characters to use could be, the leader of your country, a military officer commanding your forces, or a front-line soldier.

7. Multiple violations of these guidelines will lead to your removal from the roleplay.

8. If you have any questions, feel free to telegram me at any time. I will respond as quickly as possible.

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Roster

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The Federal Republic of Luxmbourg-Bavaria (TBG)
- Vrijstaat Limburg
- Earth Allies
- Romextly

The Luxembourger Nationalists (LRA)
- Flarbinia
- Svenska-Britannia
- Nubt

The Marxist Brigade
- Ukcross
- Belarus and Belorussia

Neutral
- Goram

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[Luxembourg-Bavaria]

Around the country, the three factions prepared themselves for the coming conflict. It seemed as if conflict was inevitable, but no one seemed willing to fire the first shot. A sort of uneasy stalemate developed as the Nationalists and Marxists openly mobilized their forces around their centers of influence. Government forces seems unwilling to start an offensive, weakened as they were. Tensions continued to rise and rise as people were forced to chose a side.

Neumarkt in der Oberpfalz
Bavaria

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The district of Neumarkt in der Oberpfalz had always been a hotbed of nationalist support, especially within the city itself. Now, as whispers of civil war become louder and louder, Nationalist forces have once again mobilized in Neumarkt. Outside the district capital, on top of the imposing Neumarkt Heights, LRA soldiers openly camped, gathering their forces in preparation for the outbreak of war. This outright display of rebellion just highlighted the weakness of the government's inability to control its people.

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Munich
Bavaria



Chancellor Josef Richter stepped outside of the Bavarian capital building and took in the impressive sight before him. The crowd is much larger than I expected, he thought to himself as he stepped up to the podium. Richter cleared his throat before beginning his speech.

"Citizens of Luxembourg-Bavaria! Today we are gathered here to address the elephant in the room. There have been whispers of a civil war brewing for some time now. I regret to inform you that these rumors are true. Rebel groups supporting both East and West have mustered their forces and are mobilizing for war. I am here today to let everyone know that we will stand strong. Our republic has already stood through one such conflict. We will not back down from another. I am here to let you know that we will not back down. We will not go quietly into the night! No! Those who wish to bring down the republic will get nothing from us! Are you with me?"

The crowd showed its approval with a deafening roar, followed by thunderous applause. Richter motioned for the crowd to settle down and then continued his speech.

"Thank you, good citizens of Luxembourg-Bavaria. The coming time will be difficult. War is hell, but we must be willing to defend what we love. For the Republic! For Bavaria!"

Once again, the crowd was whipped into a frenzy. The roar of the the people soon developed into a chant. "Richter, Richter, Richter!" The chancellor stepped back from the podium, satisfied with the praise of the crowd. Suddenly, the chanting stopped as the crowd noise became frantic and a commotion clearly developed in the center. A melee broke out and the crowd quickly moved away, leaving a few dozen involved in the fight separate. Police stationed in the crowd quickly made their way over, and managed to break up the fight relatively quickly. Chancellor Richter moved forward to the podium once more.

"Citizens! Do not let these rebel thugs intimidate you! We will not give in to their scare tactics!"

The crowd gave one last hearty cheer, and then began to dissipate.

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Ingolstadt
Bavaria

Ingolstadt was a hive of socialists. When the Marxist Brigade re-entered the country, the people of Ingolstadt welcomed them back with open arms. Of course, they couldn't openly support them, but the people allowed the Brigade to operate out of the city with ease. Now the time has come for a changing of the guard.

The city is on the cusp of a riot. When the powder keg is set off, Ingolstadt will be one of the first cities to declare allegiance to the Marxist Brigade. Right now, all they need is a push in the right direction.

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The rebel factions look to mobilize their troops and put pressure on the government, while the chancellor seeks to paint the war in a positive light and turn the public against the rebels. Right now, a sort of uneasy stalemate has formed, as no one is willing to be the ones to fire the first shots. With the new foreign support, this may no longer be possible. War seems unavoidable.

[Flarbinia]

Würzburg
The Fighting Hellhounds arrived in Fürth as crates of weapons and ammunition were being offloaded from the cargo plane. "Sorry, but this is all we can spare at the moment. Now, if you boys do enough damage with 'em and start reimbursin' the companies that make your equipment, then I can see if command is willin' to part with more than just two regiments worth of guns and ammo." Major Azrael East, one of the military advisors sent to Luxembourg to help the Nationalists, said to the commander of the local Nationalist troops as he glanced at him before returning his attention to a map of the combat zone. "We can overwhelm the defenses, but in order for the assault to succeed, we will need the element of surprise. The plan is simple: once your men disable the radar station, the Flarbinian volunteers will storm the airbase, kill everyone, and raise the Luxembourg Flag." Major Azrael East said to the Nationalist CO as the Fighting Hellhounds left the aircraft.

[Goram]

Eight months ago

A massive aircraft lumbered off the runway at RAF Red River, home of Transport Command. The Lifter, ST.1 was an unusual sight with it's blended box wings - quite unlike the wings of most aeroplanes - and as the crew clicked the thrust levers back from TOGA and set about retracting flaps, a second of the grey beasts rolled onto the runway centreline and waited for clearance. The first banked gently out onto the standard Red River departure and continued on its way. After a suitable separation time, the second Lifter departed and then a third - all bound for Luxembourg-Bavaria, where civil unrest was once again brewing.

Lengthy discussions with the Richter government had taken place over the past months, and over the coming winter RAF Red River - and other stations like it - would be responsible for sending the reinforced 4th Infantry Division to the trouble spot.

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Present day, somewhere South of the Paar river,
Between Munich and Ingolstadt...

Colonel Mary Wood stepped out of 11 Brigade headquarters, which amounted to little more than a pre-fabricated hut, into the crisp air of a Spring evening. The cold Bavarian winter had given away to the inevitable march back towards warmth, but it had not relinquished its hold entirely. As the sun dropped steadily towards the horizon, there was still a chill in the air that found its way through the Lieutenant Colonel’s battle dress. From beneath the left epaulette of her camouflage battle dress jacket, she drew the khaki beret of the infantry. She smoothed the khaki headdress against her short, pinned up, brown hair. Behind her, a second officer, a Captain, stepped out into the night.

“Peaceful”

The Captain remarked of the deepening evening sky. It was true, the motley collection of pre-fabs that made up 11 Brigade’s headquarters buildings was ominously quiet. Not that it was especially busy anyway – this part of Luxembourg-Bavaria was sparse on population. The country was still recovering from a year and a half of bloody civil war, and the third in the country’s short history. Not many lived here now, which had made it largely ideal for the United Kingdom’s peacekeeping force. Yet now it seemed that not even the usual birds, often so vocal as the sun disappeared, were singing. There was not a breath of wind in the air. The calm before the inevitable storm, Wood mused. For inevitable it was, as once again the winds of civil war brewed. And she was stuck in the middle of it.

“Yes, but perhaps not for long”

She replied.

Her words proved, at least in the short term, to be remarkably accurate. The stillness of the growing dark was broken by the noise of an engine, and the blare of headlights, as an M66 utility vehicle edged around the corner. The two officers climbed into the back, and the four by four whisked them off.

The drive was not a long one, from one headquarters to another – although the relative grandeur of pre-fabricated huts was giving way to what was really nothing more than a large tent with a map table. Wood swung herself out of the M66 and into her unit’s nerve centre, as the two sentries at the door (she regarded “door” as an overly grandiose word for a tent flap) snapped to attention.

Waiting for her, bent low over the large map table in the middle of the tent room was her executive officer. He wore the rank of Major and was second in command of the unit. He wore a worried expression on his face. Whilst he had not been at the divisional briefing, the intelligence photographs and various reports he had access to told the same story. Wood met his worried look.

“Company, battery and squadron commanders in here please, Mike. Get everyone.”

He nodded and swept out into the darkness.

Wood bent over the table, just as the Major had done so and briefly skimmed over the documents her XO had been working on just moments before. Satellite imagery and reports from light recce units attached to 4th Infantry Division, the parent unit 11 Brigade belonged to. None of it painted an encouraging picture, although there were worse tactical positions to be in. The map marked the position of Wood’s command, approximately a mile South of the Paar and a shattered settlement that sat aside the river. It was once a small, but vibrant town – Stahlstadt - of several thousand but the last war had seen to that. It had been the scene of heavy fighting, and the place had been worked over by artillery. Virtually no one lived there now. But it was still a viable crossing point on the great river, and that made it important. Somehow, war again appeared imminent. The ruined town with its wide bridge and four paved roads leading south towards Munich would once again be fought over. For the second time that hour Wood reflected on how her unit was stuck in the middle of it – ostensibly there to keep the peace but in reality, her unit would probably bear the brunt of an assault from the South. Although officially neutral, the stance had become something of a joke within the 30,000 Goramites deployed to the area. Even now, the United Kingdom's government kept diplomatic channels open and was seeking to negotiate a stand down before bloodshed. In reality, everyone knew they'd be fighting to keep the status quo, sooner or later. Wood couldn't help but wonder exactly how much of her soldier's blood would she need to expend to achieve that goal of preservation?

Her soldiers, she thought. How long she had worked for a command like this. A twenty year career in the Army, joined when she was twenty one – fresh out of university and practically still a child. Straight into officer selection, she passed in the middle of her class. Wood never excelled in the basics of soldiery but she was a fitness nut. Refusing to be outdone by any of her male colleagues, she wore the soles out of her issue boots by running endless miles in full kit. This was not missed by the powers that be, but it was not her real talent. Her real talent was for low level tactics. No one would ever say that Wood was the best shot with a machine gun, despite hours on the range, but no one in her class could site it better. It was once remarked that Mary Wood could read the ground as most people read books. The natural features of the ground around her seemed to speak to her as it rarely spoke to others. Graduation came and went, and the newly minted Lieutenant Wood was marked as one to watch – despite her average final place her in class. Posting to an infantry company soon followed, barely a year after the bill passed to allow women into combat roles. For a number of years, her career went nowhere. Action was hard to come by and like it or not the powers that be were still squeamish about female officers. Thus she languished as a Lieutenant, with her only kick up coming with progression from platoon commander to company XO. Her break came with Holding Island and the first major battle the Army had fought in sixty years. The deployment of Army personnel was relatively meagre, only a reinforced brigade, but Wood’s number had come up and she was going. It was at Holding that she made a name for herself, when her company commander was killed during the assault on Hill 314. Taking over the company, she pressed the assault home herself – sustaining a wound in the process. Decoration followed and after eight long years of faithful service, she was promoted Captain and given her own company. After that she climbed meteorically as Operation: Leg Slip, the UK government’s crusade against slavery, offered a chance for her to show her considerable tactical nous. A Majority, and then Lieutenant-Colonelcy came in time, and a battalion command.

Now finally her rank tab showed full Colonel and she had the Regimental command that came with it. Mahan’s Rangers, no less. A storied Regiment, raised in 1750 by Sir Richard Mahan out of his own pocket. The Regiment had borne his name ever since, and carried it proudly for the colours were adorned thickly with battle honours. Furthermore, on this deployment, she had even more under her command. She had a squadron of the 2/7th Lancers, with their fifteen M13 Spartan main battle tanks. On top of the Spartans, she had two batteries of the Royal Artillery – detached from 4th Infantry’s support group – which gave her on call artillery and potent air defences. What she had here was a Regimental Combat Team. 1,700 infantry with the capability to fight almost anything they came up against. But for all the firepower she had immediately to hand, and all the support the rest of the Brigade and Division could send her, it did not seem like enough. Not when looking at the tactical picture. Government on one side, rebels on the other and Communists out there somewhere too. All of them with large numbers of troops. Very large numbers of troops. She knew that for the numbers reported they could not be that well trained nor equipped, but reports were running into the millions and there was only a reinforced Division here.

Yet she knew, as she looked up to see the Company officers filing in, that when the shooting began they would be enough.

“Thank you all for coming so quickly.”

The Colonel began, addressing the dozen or so company and battalion commanders in the tent.

“As I’m sure you’ve all heard, things are heating up on the other side of the river. It is reported that Ingolstadt has become a pressure cooker, ready to blow it's top at any time. In the last week, the 191st Recce - about midway between here and Ingolstadt - has been reporting significant movement to their front and skirmishes between civilian militias and Marxist troops. This has all been corroborated by satellite and signals intelligence that confirms troop build ups. We expect hostilities to begin, well, any time now. As such, I will be ordering combat dress order effective immediately. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that that means body armour and helmets must be worn – no more patrols in berets and webbing. Extra ammunition will be distributed, enough for 48 hours fighting without resupply. Sergeant Major?”

With this last line, the Regimental Sergeant Major stepped forward. Technically, he was no Sergeant at all. Rather a Warrant Officer, but the naming convention of the Army was such that a Warrant Officer was referred to by the position they held rather than the rank.

“That is correct, Ma’am. We are already distributing a portion of the reserve ammunition – everything from extra magazines to artillery shells – and that ought to be accomplished within the next hours. Once complete, reserve supplies of ammunition ought to last us a week of normal combat operations but significantly less of intense action. Other stocks are sufficient to keep us in the field until resupply arrives.

Until resupply arrives, Wood thought. And when exactly would that be, if it really kicked off?

“Very good, Sergeant Major. Thank you. You will be going into your forward positions immediately. Dig in as well as deep possibly can, and reinforce pre-prepared positions.”

The past months of otherwise somewhat tedious deployment had not gone unused. The battle group knew precisely how it would deploy for battle, on a low ridge line and hamlet just a mile south of the river crossing. The ridge ran almost exactly east to north west, sloping upwards approximately 200’ at a very gentle incline. Tree cover had been minimal, and those that were there had been cut down to be used as reinforcement. At the western end of the ridge, the hamlet – Klagenbruck – formed an excellent bastion and anchor on which the infantry could hinge. On the gently undulating plain between Klagenbruck and Stahlstadt, the M13s of 2/7th Lancers had dug numerous firing positions – both to be taken up immediately and to be fallen back into. Slit trenches littered the gaps between these tank holes, allowing for supporting infantry. Furthermore, the angles were such that if the M13s occupied an enemy’s attention, then fire from Klagenbruck could be brought to bear. The more the tanks withdrew into their depth defence, the more anti-tank gunners in Klagenbruck would be presented with flanking fire on the enemy. As tactical positions went, it was hard to envisage a better defensive position from which to defend the river crossing. But the enemy would come and come hard, and every officer present knew it.

The briefing continued for some fifteen minutes, with questions asked and responded to by almost all. With it concluded, the officers filed out to return and ready their respective commands. In moments, only the Regimental Sergeant Major was left. He offered out a hand, containing something wrapped up in camouflage strapping. The Colonel took it, knowing exactly what it was before she laid hands on it.

“Your sidearm, Ma’am. I’m having your vest brought up as well. Combat dress, after all.”

“Of course, thank you, Sergeant Major. Dismiss.”

The Sergeant Major saluted, turned on his heel and left Wood alone, looking at the gun and holster in her hand. She slipped the straps through her belt loops so the pistol sat on her right hip. Strangely, it felt a little heavier than the weapon usually did. The responsibility for the 1,700 lives in her battle group perhaps adding that extra weight, she knew.

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Concurrently, somewhere further South still...

During the daylight hours, the 8,000 foot scar of asphalt that served as Erding's main runway was painfully obvious to any aviator looking for it. But now, with the light quickly fading, and all artificial lights on the field extinguished, one might be excused for flying straight over the airfield without ever having known it was there.

Erding was not exactly a complex base. Certainly, there was not the maze of taxiways, multiple runways or vast terminals found at Munich Airport. Rather, Erding had only one runway - 08/26 - flanked by taxiways. It had the classic dispersal pads of a military airbase to the north of the runway, and a large number of blast hardened hangars to the south. Further afield to the south was a fuel farm, underground ammunition dump and a collection of administration buildings including a control tower. It was not exactly a complex place, but it did have a reasonable aircraft capacity and that was why the United Kingdom's "peacekeeping" force had been able to lease it temporarily from Chancellor Richter's government.

For the last four months, Erding had been home to a composite group of RAF and Navy aeroplanes. Dubbed 'Advanced Air Strike Group', it certainly was an unusual collection of machines, not usually seen operating together. Perhaps most unusual were the eight Navy aircraft - four RAEW.6 airborne radars and four TT.2 transport/tankers, both of which were based on the Explorer platform. Explorer was a domestically built aircraft, but heavily based on the ubiquitous Hawkeye. It was thoroughly unusual to see these machines operating from land, as opposed to a warship, but the constraints of space at Erding meant there was nowhere to keep the larger RAF types that served the same role. The Explorer variants were not as capable as those land based machines, but something was certainly better than nothing. These machines, when not in the air as one almost invariably was, lived in the blast hangars south of the runway. But force multipliers did not win a fight alone. They, of course, needed something to multiply. To that end, Erding housed three squadrons of Osprey jets; two of the multi-role FGR.1 and a single unit of the lethal F.1 - a pure fighter. The group was rounded out by a flight of four EW.1 types. Among the most advanced jets in the world, Osprey was the real force behind RAF and, indeed, Navy strike capability. It was a fast and powerful machine, fantastically manoeuvrable and difficult to spot on even modern radar systems. According to its pilots the type, especially the F.1, was unmatched.

It was towards four of these lethal jets, fully armed F.1s that stood on the dispersal as quick response, that Flying Officer Ben Page looked. In the growing gloom of the spring evening, the imposing F.1 looked even more dangerous than it already was. Sometimes, Page thought, it was only at night that you could see the fighter for what it really was. During the day, the sleek lines and beauty of the design made you forget it was a weapon of war. At night, the enshrouding darkness somehow made it impossible to forget.

A newer officer to the service, barely 25, Page had only two years or so on the type and was yet to fly the F.1 in real combat. He would soon have his chance, he knew. The plan for the first night of the war was very well rehearsed by now. Striking Group knew they would be outnumbered heavily. The technologically advanced nature of their machines would go some way to balancing the scales, but they knew they still faced fearful odds. Yet the odds could be lessened if they struck hard and fast, getting their blows in before the enemy could react.

The job would be done by only a few aeroplanes, at least initially. Six F.1s, an Explorer radar and a pair of Opsrey EW.1. It was a simple plan. The pair of EW.1, an electronic warfare aircraft, would put out multi-spectrum jamming, as much of it as their powerful systems could manage, and the Explorer would fly visible racetrack patterns well behind the jamming front. Such a burst of noise on enemy radar screens could not fail to draw attention. It would look like the start of an incoming strike package, and it must surely draw a response. Under the jamming, and hopefully unmolested, two of F.1s would sneak in individually - 100 miles apart. Flying at near zero feet, in and out, the fighters would use their own onboard radar warning equipment to track the emissions of enemy airborne command and control. Once more or less underneath them, the fighters would climb vertically, fire, and then run. If they could score a decent number of hits, they might seriously damage the enemy's ability to coordinate an air battle. The EW.1s would then switch off, and the four remaining F.1s, with the help of the Explorer, would begin sending missiles from extreme range towards any targets of opportunity. With gaps hopefully opened, the rest of Erding's Ospreys - the multirole jets - would rise up to lob standoff munitions at a wide range of pre-selected targets. These included airfields, likely axis' of advance from rear areas, supply dumps, fuel depots and repair shops. Known as Operation: Square Drive, it was a reasonably standard response to being outnumbered. Blind the enemy, hurt them as best you can, and then operate defensive counter air in conjunction with friendly air defence to whittle the enemy down - all the while reducing threats to friendly aircraft as best you can.

Page and the rest of the aircrew at Erding knew this plan off by heart. No one wanted to fight this way, but initial aggression followed by defensive fighting was the only way they were going to be able to survive long enough for reinforcements to be flown in. Plans for this were being made even then, but until more aircraft arrived Erding's ability to strike and interdict the enemy would be limited. For now, they would aim to get a heavy punch in before withdrawing behind the battle lines, hoping to lure enemy aircraft to fight them - as opposed to actively seeking them out. Defensive counter air lacked the glamour of offensive fighter sweeps or deep strike interdiction, where crews were free to venture into enemy air space and seek the enemy out, but all knew it was necessary.

But Ben Page looked over the rapidly diminishing form of his fighter with an almost schoolboy excitement. The others of his Squadron would be sending potshots at the enemy from hundreds of miles away - which, in fairness, was precisely how the Osprey and RAF doctrine was supposed to fight. But not him. He, and his backseater, had drawn the golden ticket of crossing the lines on the first night of fighting. He would actually see the enemy before he fired.

Soon all hell would let loose and, somehow, he was excited by the prospect.

[Svenska-Britannia]

The United Imperium sensed that now was the time to discreetly mobilize it's 50,000 Elite Force of Military Volunteers. Armored Vehicles, Construction Vehicles, SPG's, MBT's and even Aircraft placed on transport Vehicles traveled through the Bavarian-Austrian Border.

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Near Neumark Heights.
After what felt like a while of travelling the Bavarian Countryside, the Imperial Volunteer Force finally arrived at their designated drop point. The Field Engineers then did their work immediately and started the Construction of a Makeshift Command Base and Airfield for the Imperial Forces to deploy upon.

Camo nets, Trenches, Artillery Firepits and other essential Military emplacements would be deployed all within a matter of hours. Imperial Infantry managed to contact the Nationalists on top of the Heights and offered to support them in their Military Campaign.

[Earth Allies]

Lindau, 7:00 am

USS Armigeddon(Not Armageddon) has entered with USS Enterprise. They send small boats to set up camp 2 miles near the city. Two people, Lt. Alex with Commander Govynov(Go-vi-nov).
Govynov: ¨Well, this is surprising there is no attack yet.¨
Alex: ¨Well wonder what General Horus will put his men.¨
Govynov: ¨Landing at Memmingen at 2:00pm¨
Alex: ¨Then we need to make sure we still have Sonthofen¨

Sonthofen, 9:00 am

A few tanks from the 2nd Armored Division come in really just to go and make sure the city is on our side. Guarding northeast to northwest, those light tanks wait for the 2nd Infantry Division to come in

[Earth Allies]

USS Enterprise, 9:30 am
A few planes from USS Enterprise are about to take off with the troops......going to a very key location.....for Earth Allies....

Meanwhile, on Enterprise....the crew was plaing cards while others work.....it was a nice place though.......USS Alabama was following it..waiting to see something......
¨Find anything?¨
¨No sir....¨

[Peoples Republic of Joyea]

Statement from the Joyean State News Service on television:
"The Joyean Ministry of Foreign Affairs has heard news of a conflict in the nation of Luxembourg-Bavaria and has announced that the Joyean Military will deploy a force of 3000 Internal Troops, 1000 Foreign Advisors and multiple other smaller units along with material aid in support if the Luxembourg Republican Army."

Indian Ocean
Joyean C-141s, C-130s, Il-76s, and C-6s carrying troops and supplies were headed to Luxembourg-Bavaria below them were 3 Tarawa Class Landing ships with even more supplies. Foreign Advisors were headed there to begin training the soldiers of the LRA while the Internal Troops were there to support combat operations along with numerous tanks and COIN aircraft.

Nuremberg, Luxembourg-Bavaria
The first aircraft to land was a C-141 carrying Foreign Advisors and food and medical supplies. The equipment and troops were unloaded and all the foreign advisors were loaded onto trucks that were sent to a base in Nuremberg where they would assist new LRA recruits. The first group of Internal Troops came in on a C-130 and were immediately loaded onto trucks and sent to a front line base where they would assist LRA troops with combat operations.

IA-58 COIN aircraft patrol
The first true combat engagement of enemy troops with Joyean forces came in the way of a patrol mission with 4 IA-58 COIN aircraft and Marxist brigade S-60 AA battery began firing at the planes damaging 2. After about a minute of evasive maneuvers the aircraft fired rockets and dropped 300 pound bombs on the batteries destroying them, the few remaining enemy soldiers were shot with 20mm cannons or 7.62mm machine guns. The aircraft then headed back to the main base and reported the incident.

[Goram]

Someway north of the river, in Marxist territory…

“Anything new?”

“No, just the usual. Patrols go out, patrols come back. We stay out of their way, they stay out of ours.”

“Mm.”

The Lieutenant grunted approvingly to a member of his platoon, who still held a pair of laser range finding binoculars to his eyes.
“How far?”

“About two miles.”

The Sergeant kept his binoculars up, scribbling with his free hand and noting down everything he could about the brigade sized force he was looking at. He did not observe the usual military curtsies due to a superior officer, but his Lieutenant did not care. The platoon was a tight knit unit, in which the constituent members were all as veteran as a largely peacetime force could be. And veteran the troopers had to be, as 2 Platoon of B Company, 191st Independent Reconnaissance Battalion was doing what it was trained to do. About six miles north of the nearest friendly units, the Battalion was spread across the 4th Division’s front – their numbers made up by two squadrons of the 21st Regiment, RLC. The 21st Regiment was something of a joke in the Goramite Army. Officially a supply regiment, the sort ordinarily tasked with the vital, if somewhat mundane, job of truck driving, the 21st and several other regiments were really anything but. They were special forces, trained for deep penetration and reconnaissance, and their designation was supposed to hide them in plain sight. In reality, everyone knew what and who they were. But if jokes were to be cracked at home about the identity of the 21st Regiment, Royal Logistics Corps, no one was making them here. Certainly, the additional numbers made the lives of the 191st battalion quite a lot easier.

The Lieutenant slid down the reverse slope from the low ridge on which the Sergeant and several other troopers lay prone. Scrambling to his feet, he quickly walked the 60 yards or so back to their waiting vehicles – confident that the higher ground to his back would keep him safe from view. Five M66 WMKs waited, parked about twenty yards apart, along a dirt track. Ordinarily, the M1966 was a jack of all trades. It filled every role in the Army from light transport of personnel, to an officer’s private vehicle and was roughly equal to the jeep or GAZ style trucks found in other militaries the world over. Not with the M66 WMK. The idea for the vehicle came out of a need to fight a delaying action against overwhelming amounts of Gibetian armour streaming into the Commonwealth. It was realised that a single M66 with an anti-tank missile might be able to slow an armoured column by firing from cover and then running a mile or two up the road to set up again before artillery could be ranged against them. The tactic was unofficially called “three men with a truck”, and from there the M66 Weapons Mount Kit had been spawned. But no longer was it simply a utility vehicle with an ATGM tube bolted to the back. It was now a fully fledged and heavily armed recce truck. The basic chassis had been stripped down and slightly lengthened. Roll bars were added and the roof removed. Each one featured a GMPG for the passenger seat to fire, and either a heavy machine gun or automatic grenade launcher as a primary weapon. Spread amongst the vehicles, the crews had access to several M16 launchers – designed to fire both anti-tank and anti-aircraft missiles. Combined with personal weapons, the five M66 WMKs of the recce platoon had far more firepower to call on that any 25 man unit had any right to possess. But so far, they had no need of it. The battalion had been forward deployed for some months now, and although tensions had flared no actual shooting had begun. Preparations for that shooting most certainly had.

The Lieutenant climbed onto his truck’s mudguard and into his seat. Attached to the centre console was a removable tablet like device, toughened and guarded against the rigours of military use. It was his contact point for the PARASOL command network, which was Army parlance for the Schwerpunkt Arms developed BASTION II C4I network. With the press of a button or two, he linked the tablet to the Sergeant’s laser range finder. With a couple of taps more, the information from the range finders was uploaded to the network and sent directly where it needed to go. Within moments it was in the electronic brains of the fire control computers of a battery of M17 GMRLS. This was the purpose of 191st Battalion’s forward deployment. To keep tabs on troop build ups and pre-register artillery onto them. With the near instantaneous information sharing made possible by PARASOL, the artillery would start firing as soon as the enemy did. The GMRLS batteries would be especially lethal. One battery of four vehicles was more than enough to sanitise an entire grid square, and effectively neuter the brigade that 2 Platoon was observing.

With the information uploaded and confirmed, the Lieutenant hopped down and scrambled back to his men on the ridge, dropping low again as he did so. He crawled up next to the Sergeant, who was still fixatedly looking through his smart binoculars.

“All done, time to pull back.”

But the words died on his lips as both the Lieutenant and Sergeant noticed movement at the same time – although without the benefit of magnification, the officer could not tell what it was.
The Sergeant handed over the device and pointed with an outstretched arm. Through the optics, the Lieutenant could clearly see a number of anti-aircraft guns turning and their barrels elevating. He didn’t know exactly what they were, but they looked like the old 40mm guns that all the warships in the old movies had. A flash and puff of smoke from one barrel, then another. It seemed an eternity before the sharp noise reached them, but it was only seconds. Moments later points of black smoke appeared low against the horizon, the shells bursting among a flight of four twin engine aircraft. This time, the Lieutenant knew what they were.

“Pucaras. Four of them, attacking low from the North.”

“Pucaras?”

The Sergeant said.

“The Joyeans?”

“Must be”

The combat was over in moments, ending just as quickly as the aircraft had appeared. All four rolled in to attack, one after another. Straight into the teeth of the bursting shells. One of the attackers was damaged by a detonating round, but the fire from the outdated guns was not enough to prevent their destruction. The first two loads seemed to cause the defensive fire to slacken, and after the third salvo of bombs, the battery stopped shooting entirely. The rest of the Marxist force had not reacted fast enough to engage, these first attackers but by the time the fourth machine rolled in they were alive to the danger. All along the Marxist front, various weapons began sweeping the air above them. The Lieutenant watched as the final machine dove into the attack, tossing its bombs at an unseen target. The nose of the last aircraft disappeared in white vapour, as its guns tore up the ground. From two miles away, it sounded like someone ripping a bedsheet. The Pucara broke away from its attack run and seemed to stagger in the air as it did so, hit by some kind of ground fire. A pencil-thin line of smoke streamed from one engine as it continued on its southerly axis of attack to escape the combat area. It screamed straight over 2 Platoons' position, low enough that the jagged holes in the port wing and fuselage were plainly visible. So too would be the five vehicles to the pilot, and now all too likely thousands of eyes would be looking straight in their direction. Some of them would have binoculars, and now they'd be looking for someone responsible for calling down the attack.

“Oh shit.”

The Lieutenant muttered as the fighter moved off, turning West then North to follow the other three. He keyed his radio to call it in, but before he could speak came the report of a mortar. At such long range by the time he heard the mortar fire, the shell would be on its way down. A geyser of earth erupted about 300 yards away, followed by another slightly closer.

“Oh shit, time to go.”

He said again. He, the Sergeant and the handful of others on the ridge scrambled down as fast as they could. The dull crump of high calibre mortar fire continued. The next two bursts sounded much louder and much closer. No one wanted to hang around to find out how close. As the platoon mounted up to move, the ridgeline they had occupied exploded as shells landed just on the opposite side of it. Until now there had been a very much live and let live agreement with the Marxist forces in the area. War hadn't been declared and whilst they scoped each other out no one wanted to do anything foolish. But it seemed that events had overtaken them. Nothing had been said on the battalion net or on PARASOL about war being declared. Plainly, however, the Pucara strike had unnerved the troops – known to be quite untested - in front of them, and the fact that the attackers had initially disappeared off to the South had been enough to convince someone that the United Kingdom had been responsible for the attack.

“I think they think we called it in!”

A trooper in the back of the lead truck shouted, over the noise of exploding shells

“You fucking think so, Sherlock?”

A second said back, standing behind the heavy machine gun and drawing back the bolt. The Lieutenant swung himself into the passenger seat and the powerful engines roared into life. In moments they were moving, and no doubt Marxist vehicles would be closing in on their position. They did not want to be there when they arrived.

The Lieutenant keyed his radio

“Ascot, Ascot, this is 2-1.”

He called on the company frequency, using the Company HQs identifier – Ascot.

“Taking mortar fire all across my front, we are displacing.”

“2-1, Ascot. Did you say taking fire? What happened?”

“Unsure, Ascot. The Joyeans attacked we think, they’re firing at us now. Request clarification of the ROE, can we return fire?”

“Standby, 2-1. Will call you back.”

The moments seemed to take an interminably long time to pass. Racing away south-west, they covered the flattish ground rapidly. After a mile or so, the five trucks stopped in the cover of light woods and waited. It had been six minutes since Ascot had last called.

“Ascot, this is 2-1. Request clarification please.”

“Roger 2-1”

The voice came back, somewhat tetchily, before a third voice broke in

“Ascot, this is 3-1. Also reporting contact to my front, twenty plus BMP types moving this direction.”

Silence for a moment

“2-1 this is 2-4. Movement, north-east. Approximate a company or so.”

The voice came across the platoon, rather than company channel. The Lieutenant looked, and sure enough a bevvy of vehicles had broken out of the Marxist lines and were moving in formation towards the ridge line they had previously occupied. A ridgeline even now still being worked over by large calibre mortar fire that had eventually found the range. Clearly the Joycean air strike had riled someone up, and they weren’t shooting to dissuade. The fire going into 2 Platoon’s abandoned position had become heavy and accurate. The companies moving towards them and towards 3 Platoon as well suggested that someone, whether officially or under their own authority, was not playing around. They clearly wanted a fight, and yet Ascot remained quiet. The Lieutenant flipped back to the company net.

“Ascot, 2-1. I have movement to my front, these guys aren’t playing around. Request priority clarification of the ROE.”

He hoped the edge wasn’t showing too much in his voice. Finally, the reply came.

“All Ascot callsigns, be advised to change in the ROE. Lethal force authorised as necessary, personal weapons only. Repeat, personal weapons only. Artillery support not authorised this time.”

The Lieutenant looked at the handset with a mixture of incredulity and disgust. Personal weapons only? He was supposed to fight a company with just the weapons he had to hand? What was the point of the months of pre-designating artillery targets, if when push came to shove he couldn’t use it?

“Sod it.”

He said, aloud, and turned to the PARASOL tablet again. He might not be able to order a strike, but he could prepare for one. Accessing the tactical map, he noticed with some satisfaction that his opposite number in 3 Platoon, 3-1, had already updated his position and the force advancing on it. But they were some miles away, carrying out their own recce tasks, and wouldn’t be helping 2 Platoon now. With a couple of taps, the Lieutenant marked his new position and with a few more began passing firing data to a light artillery battery. As the data uploaded, he picked up the discarded radio handset again and turned the frequency selector to platoon net.

“All Ascot 2 callsigns, this is 2-1. Change in the ROE, personal weapons authorised as necessary. Deploy for action.”

---

I Corps Headquarters, near St. John's in the United Kingdom

A large interactive map dominated the far wall of an almost empty situation room. The screen displayed a strategic map of Luxembourg-Bavaria, showing an incredible level of detail. It showed the locations of United Kingdom forces, down to battalion level, along with known forces for all other players and supply routes for both sides. Around the edges of the room, a handful of junior officers were leafing through various papers and going about whatever staff work had come across their desks that day. Invariably, it was to do with Luxembourg-Bavaria. The topic had been all pervasive for the past two months and more. But these officers did not sit at the conference table. Only one uniformed man sat around the long, highly polished table that might have sat thirty. He wore four silver stars on his shoulder, indicating a Lieutenant General.

Lieutenant General was the highest regular rank that any soldier in the United Kingdom's Army might aspire to, and only eleven of them existed in the service. Four of them held command over various organisations - training, the Royal Logistics Corps, the Royal Artillery and Army Air Corps. The other seven held Corps command, including overall command of the Independent Groups. Unlike in many countries Army's, a Goramite Corps was not a temporary formation. Posting to the command of a Corps was an appointment that could not be taken away once given, except by death, retirement or dishonourable discharge. The one in the room held command over I Corps, and 30,000 of his troops were even now preparing for battle thousands of miles away. He was the most senior soldiers in the country, but he fought no battles any more except on paper. Not since the Gibetian War had Corps HQ deployed overseas. Beyond that, no Corps - in their current form - had ever deployed more than two of its constituent divisions. Rather, the Corps rather they existed as administrative, support and logistics blocks. Logistics was the concern of the day for the Lieutenant General in the room.

The problem confronting him was a serious strategic issue. The map on the wall zoomed slowly in on the shipping lanes that connected the ports of the northern coast of the continent to which the reinforced 4th Division had been sent. Three red icons marked the last known positions of three Joyean assault ships, assumed bound for the Nationalists. Whilst comparatively little, the ships represented the crux of the issue. Through these ports, the Nationalists and their allies would be able to reinforce by sea. Convoys of roll on roll off container ships could deliver thousands of tons of materiel, vehicles and other equipment a day. In comparison, the United Kingdom wouldn't be able to use its vaunted merchant Navy to the same extent. Deep ports friendly to the Bavarian government existed, but using them would then require shipping whatever was landed across a mountain range. Hardly an ideal terrain for tank transporters and 10-ton trucks. It could be done, but it would be difficult. The other option was to fly everything into the country. Certainly, there were plenty of runways in Luxembourg-Bavaria capable of handling the massive strategic transports of the Royal Air Force and a decent infrastructure of highways would make moving troops and vehicles relatively easy - but airlift represented the eye of a needle compared to sealift. A fighting division would require huge logistical support once committed to action, and the 4th Division had been swollen by a Brigade of the 1st Armoured. The fuel and ammunition hungry tanks of that Brigade, and the United Kingdom’s general fixation with artillery fire meant the supply situation would only be exacerbated as time went on. At current, in static positions and with no ammunition expenditure, Goramite land forces in theatre required a touch more than 40 tons daily. When the fighting began in earnest, it would be closer to ten times that number - before anyone even factored in the need to keep tactical aircraft armed and fuelled. The RAF could keep them all in supply, however, if all went well. The Lifter ST.1 was an immensely capable aeroplane, and even now plans were being made to fly three regiments of 1st Airborne Group into theatre in their entirety. Four full Lifters could keep the division in action for a day, and when push came to shove RAF Transport Command would be able to average far more than four sorties per day. But materiel supply wasn't the main problem. Reinforcements and vehicles would be. For all the aircraft's massive cargo payload, it could not carry more than a single infantry company or a tank at a go over the kind of ranges that would be necessary. Getting any kind of heavy reinforcements into action was going to be a serious issue, and the United Kingdom probably could not match the opposition with ease of sealift. All of this left a very pressing question on the mind of the Lieutenant General and his staff.

What precisely were their colleagues in the Navy going to do to help them out?

---

The night sky was almost eerily dark, and the stars stood out against the infinite nothingness like specks of white paint on black craft paper. Yet despite the stark disparity between the points of perfect light and the darkness around them, it seemed to Captain Keith Miller that the stars were going out one by one. In reality, they were being obscured by the unbroken line of high cirrus working its way towards land from the Western sea - the heralds of an approaching cold front. Already the air pressure was dropping, and the daily news was speaking of unseasonably cold weather. Even snow was possible for the north of the country but down in the south, it would be nothing more than somewhat chillier than usual. But Miller did not mind; he welcomed the incoming front. In fact, he wished it had come precisely as forecast rather than four hours late. The night around him was silent and still, except for the barely audible breathing of several other naval officers, the gentle crash of waves and the low steady hum of nuclear powered engines that pushed a 9,000t attack submarine upon whose sail Miller now stood.

Keith Miller, nicknamed "The Invincible" by his peers for the fact he reigned over the officer's mess' card table with impunity, had had command of UKG Starcliffe for almost a year now and the veteran submarine officer knew this was the peak of his career. Starcliffe - SSN74 - was the pinnacle of Goramite submarine technology. A tranche two City class, she was the quietest yet made. The type was designed with a shooting war against the Gibetians in mind; meant to break into their back yard, find their missile submarines, sink them and get out again. To that end, when secured for silent running she made less noise than a baby dolphin and resembled nothing so much on active sonar as a hole in the water. She was, simply put, an apex predator and she was finally going hunting. The assignment given, however, was not the mission her crew had spent years training for. Prey would be significantly easier to locate and kill, but require a markedly different set of skills to complete successfully. The quarry, Miller knew, was not Gibetian boomers today. It was hostile merchantmen and their escorts, making for the northern ports of the Bavarian continent. Stop the reinforcements, and win the coming war.

Miller looked back over the stern of his boat, and beyond the seemingly luminescent wake, back towards the fading lights of RN Cookstown. The naturally sheltered harbour and easy access to deep channels there made it an obvious choice for RN submarines, and Miller would lay money that there wasn't an attack skipper in the fleet that didn't know his way out of the Barn by heart by now. But doing it for real, in the dark, leaving on an actual combat mission somehow felt different. Turning back to face the bows, he breathed deeply. He, like all the other attack boat captains sailing tonight, would have to trust his navigation officer. So far though, so good. The Cookland headland to the east was slowly disappearing, and they were nearly clear of the Aotearoan Island to the west. Every shortly, it would be time to submerge. Unlike the boats of old, a nuclear submarine's domain is below the waves - not above it.

"Pass the word to prepare the boat to dive."

Miller said to an officer just behind him

"Aye, Skipper"

The officer, a Lieutenant Commander, said. The young man stepped into the pale blue light leaking out of the open hatch in the floor of the sail and disappeared down the inbuilt ladder. Moments later the other two deck officers followed. Miller, alone now, took a last look up at the sky. The clouds were advancing more rapidly now, propelled by increasing upper winds and the glass atop the sail seemed to have fallen a millibar or two. They were, he knew, sailing towards the heart of the coming storm. The light of the stars being erased above him seemed almost metaphorical for where they were going and what they were going to do. He took one last deep breath of fresh sea air, his last for some time, and descended the ladder into the boat's control room, the various water tight hatches sealing automatically behind him.

Ten minutes later, Starcliffe slid below the cold, dark water. She left behind not a trace of her being there, as she disappeared into the total anonymity of the ocean.

[Earth Allies]

Kempten, 10:00 am

A bunch of planes were flying over Kempten, did not know where is Sonthofen was but thinking here. They landed there and found out they have to march to the real location of Sonthonfen. But, they stayed there

[Ukcross]

The Ukcrossian Government gives out a call of arms and an immediate military mobilization orders. Large amounts of troops board ships. Military advisors load into smaller boats. They Undock from the harbor and the boats steer toward Luxembourg-Bavaria.

[The Scandinvans]

Your nation will atone for your wicked sins. In the crucible of this conflict shall your people be forced to examine their debauched habits which laid the foundations for such familial strife. However, due to your failure to adhere to the divine path of Erid your people will be condemned to an endless cycle of failure. Christus invictus!

Signed,
Imperial Steward,
Voice of the Emperors,
Soldier of the Faith,
Servant of Chris,
Lord Henzar ap Erida ao Erida

[Peoples Republic of Joyea]

LRA Camp near Luxembourg-Bavarian government held territory

Alexander Nikitin was a sergeant in the Joyean Internal Troops and was put in command of a squad of 10 soldiers tasked with a long range patrol with LRA troops. He slipped on his bullet proof vest over his blue uniform and loaded his M77B1 rifle and walked out of his tent. He headed to the commanders tent as 2 A-37 COIN aircraft flew over. The captain in charge of his company explained "You are tasked with escorting a group of 20 LRA troops on a long range patrol. If you find anything you are to report it to command immediately who will send someone out. If you find enemy troops you are free to open fire but if you get pinned down the LRA will be unable to provide artillery support and we may not have aircraft available."

3 hours later, somewhere in Luxembourg-Bavaria
The soldiers Joyean and LRA had not found much but still had another 3 hours before either setting up a camp and staying there for the night or returning to the main base. Every so often a Joyean, LRA, or Luxembourg-Bavarian air force plane might fly over prompting the troops to take cover. Nikitin had been talking to one of the LRA soldiers when an LRA soldier flinched and aimed his rifle into the bushes. "I think we're not alone" Said the LRA soldier and just like that a sniper killed him and the mortar fire began. "TAKE COVER" shouted Nikitin as LRA and Joyean troops were razed down. Nikitin and a Joyean soldier hopped into a crater created by the mortar. The Luxembourg-Bavarian Army opened fire from all sides with their G-36 rifles. Some of the Joyean troops threw smoke. The Remaining LRA and Joyean troops attempted to take out as many enemy troops as possible before leaving the little cover they had and ran in the direction of the base. 2 Joyean soldiers were almost left behind and barely made it back before Luxembourg-Bavarian troops closed in on them. They ran non stop until they returned to the main base.
Later that night, main LRA base
6 out of the 10 Joyean troops returned and 12 LRA troops returned many were injured and had to run on fractured bones and skinned legs, some would never be able to fight again. After reporting what had happened the Joyeans had sent additional tanks and planes to assist the base along with building supplies and tents to expand the base more and more sorties are being flown by COIN aircraft against Luxembourg-Bavarian government forces and Marxist forces.

[Peoples Republic of Joyea]

The Ukcrossian Government gives out a call of arms and an immediate military mobilization orders. Large amounts of troops board ships. Military advisors load into smaller boats. They Undock from the harbor and the boats steer toward Luxembourg-Bavaria.

Office of General George Bartetzko, Commander of all Joyean forces deployed to Luxembourg-Bavaria, Nuremberg
A knock was heard at the door "come in" the general said. "Sir a Joyean commercial oil tanker captain called in earlier this morning that he had seen ships in the Mediterranean sea flying Ukcrossian flags he said they looked like troop transports!" An intelligence officer said. "Really? Well we may need to deploy our troops on standby because I don't think they'll be fucking around, and we need to get more troops on standby just in case shit hits the fan. Has General Kruger been informed about this yet?"
"Yes sir, he seemed very concerned about it."
"No shit, we may be able to start air strikes to delay there arrival." The General said. Later he was able to have 1 KC-135, 2 KC-130s, and 10 F-1 anti shipping aircraft deployed to Luxembourg-Bavaria.
Pacific Ocean, Joyean Ardbridge 2 class Commerce Raider
"Sir we see what appears to be a fairly small Ukcrossian Cargo ship we do not know what it's carrying." Stated a observer to the captain. "You may engage the ship, sink it and show no mercy."
"Yes sir."
The ship aimed its gun and fired after about a minute of this Omega ASMs were fired which began to tear the ship apart. The vessel exploded in a massive fireball. We believe the ship was either carrying ammunition or food.
Dupan Air Base, Joyea
Joyean Army personnel began boarding aircraft and were being sent to Luxembourg-Bavaria to assist in the fight while an additional 300,000 troops were put on standby. Some of the soldiers had just returned from Lemoyne, Joyea or Osea which had just been ravaged by war and were not particularly happy with the prospect of going back to war.

[Ukcross]

The Ukcrossian Government gives out a call of arms and an immediate military mobilization orders. Large amounts of troops board ships. Military advisors load into smaller boats. They Undock from the harbor and the boats steer toward Luxembourg-Bavaria.

Office of General George Bartetzko, Commander of all Joyean forces deployed to Luxembourg-Bavaria, Nuremberg
A knock was heard at the door "come in" the general said. "Sir a Joyean commercial oil tanker captain called in earlier this morning that he had seen ships in the Mediterranean sea flying Ukcrossian flags he said they looked like troop transports!" An intelligence officer said. "Really? Well we may need to deploy our troops on standby because I don't think they'll be fucking around, and we need to get more troops on standby just in case shit hits the fan. Has General Kruger been informed about this yet?"
"Yes sir, he seemed very concerned about it."
"No shit, we may be able to start air strikes to delay there arrival." The General said. Later he was able to have 1 KC-135, 2 KC-130s, and 10 F-1 anti shipping aircraft deployed to Luxembourg-Bavaria.
Pacific Ocean, Joyean Ardbridge 2 class Commerce Raider
"Sir we see what appears to be a fairly small Ukcrossian Cargo ship we do not know what it's carrying." Stated a observer to the captain. "You may engage the ship, sink it and show no mercy."
"Yes sir."
The ship aimed its gun and fired after about a minute of this Omega ASMs were fired which began to tear the ship apart. The vessel exploded in a massive fireball. We believe the ship was either carrying ammunition or food.
Dupan Air Base, Joyea
Joyean Army personnel began boarding aircraft and were being sent to Luxembourg-Bavaria to assist in the fight while an additional 300,000 troops were put on standby. Some of the soldiers had just returned from Lemoyne, Joyea or Osea which had just been ravaged by war and were not particularly happy with the prospect of going back to war.

Ukcrossian Command is informed of the incident. Ukcrossian command orders aircraft escort the ships and a carrier sent with them. The Ukcrossian Intelligence agency is told to find a way to stop the Joyeans from doing this again. They start sending out Ukcrossian shipping boats. The ships are sent near the routes but don't follow them exactly to scout out the area. They look like normal Food company shipping boats, to avoid the Joyeans sinking them. One Troop Transport Convoy manages to dock in Luxembourg Bavaria. Ukcrossian troops start heading inland, with some in vehicles, as this convoy had a ship transporting some vehicles and artillery. They Set up a HQ and Start fortifying.

[Earth Allies]

Office of General George Bartetzko, Commander of all Joyean forces deployed to Luxembourg-Bavaria, Nuremberg
A knock was heard at the door "come in" the general said. "Sir a Joyean commercial oil tanker captain called in earlier this morning that he had seen ships in the Mediterranean sea flying Ukcrossian flags he said they looked like troop transports!" An intelligence officer said. "Really? Well we may need to deploy our troops on standby because I don't think they'll be fucking around, and we need to get more troops on standby just in case shit hits the fan. Has General Kruger been informed about this yet?"
"Yes sir, he seemed very concerned about it."
"No shit, we may be able to start air strikes to delay there arrival." The General said. Later he was able to have 1 KC-135, 2 KC-130s, and 10 F-1 anti shipping aircraft deployed to Luxembourg-Bavaria.
Pacific Ocean, Joyean Ardbridge 2 class Commerce Raider
"Sir we see what appears to be a fairly small Ukcrossian Cargo ship we do not know what it's carrying." Stated a observer to the captain. "You may engage the ship, sink it and show no mercy."
"Yes sir."
The ship aimed its gun and fired after about a minute of this Omega ASMs were fired which began to tear the ship apart. The vessel exploded in a massive fireball. We believe the ship was either carrying ammunition or food.
Dupan Air Base, Joyea
Joyean Army personnel began boarding aircraft and were being sent to Luxembourg-Bavaria to assist in the fight while an additional 300,000 troops were put on standby. Some of the soldiers had just returned from Lemoyne, Joyea or Osea which had just been ravaged by war and were not particularly happy with the prospect of going back to war.

Ukcrossian Command is informed of the incident. Ukcrossian command orders aircraft escort the ships and a carrier sent with them. The Ukcrossian Intelligence agency is told to find a way to stop the Joyeans from doing this again. They start sending out Ukcrossian shipping boats. The ships are sent near the routes but don't follow them exactly to scout out the area. They look like normal Food company shipping boats, to avoid the Joyeans sinking them. One Troop Transport Convoy manages to dock in Luxembourg Bavaria. Ukcrossian troops start heading inland, with some in vehicles, as this convoy had a ship transporting some vehicles and artillery. They Set up a HQ and Start fortifying.

It is land locked......but there is rivers....I have control of a bigger one for now...

Lindau, 10:00am

The Earth Allies Army at Lindau telegrams Joyea of the ports of Lindau. Protected by the six- big gun USS Armigeddon

[Peoples Republic of Joyea]

The first Joyean Army personnel have arrived and are getting ready for a large scale push on the communists. We plan on taking out the communists first and then using the supplies from the communists against the government forces.
Front line with communist forces.
Joyean and LRA troops had been pushing forward against the communist forces. The troops were given the order to charge on the communists. So the troops left they're foxhole and charged at the enemy. Some of the communist forces had ZPUs and ZSU-23-4s were being used as air defense and ground support. An LRA T-62M rolled passed the troops and fired on the communists taking out a small trench leading to a bunker. 2 A-37s flew by and dropped bombs destroying some of the ZSUs. Enemy mortar fire had begun from concealed positions and it began to take out Joyean and LRA troops left and right. "We need a napalm strike 500m ahead" shouted a Joyean radioman to the nearest air base. "You've got it we have a single IA-58 on its way." Replied the base. After maybe 5 or 10 minutes a single plane flew by and dropped napalm bombs on many of the positions taking out some of the mortars the plane turned around and opened fire on some of the remaining communist troops and then it started to return to the base. Joyean and LRA troops cheered the pilot on and continued their assault. They were mostly mopping up the remaining resistance.
F-1 anti-shipping aircraft intercepting Ukcrossian supplies
"Alpha Squadron you are cleared to advance on the Ukcrossian convoy, please try to keep the enemy planes occupied". Said the leader of Tango Squadron. "Copy that".
The Hellcat fighters turned on their afterburner and advanced toward the convoy some of them fired AA-2 and R-77 missiles. They began engaging the enemy aircraft while the F-1s flew down and dropped 2 torpedoes each at one of the landing craft it exploded and began to sink. The F-1s turned around and fired 4 missiles each at one of the ships damaging it. All of the aircraft began heading back to the base.