First Gragastavian Civil War (Closed, ATTN: Ruthsen)

[Gragastavia]

*RETCONNED*


Gragastavia, Circa 1895

Archbishop Fritz Schechtmann III has died from a fatal heart attack. While Fritz Schechtann IV is heir apparent, a few prominent citizens in Southern Gragastavia have decided to use the weakness of the nation in the few months after the coronation to overthrow the monarchy and establish a republic.

[Gragastavia]

October 19th, 1921
Al Duhaba

Fritz Schechtmann IV strolled around the palace halls, until he came across a mirror. He stared at himself and asked himself, “Oh Fritz, oh Fritz, how do you always look so fabulous?” His preening was interrupted when one of his servants had run in and said, “Sir, sir! I bear grave news, sir!”
“The Gentius team won the Schechtmann Cup?”
“It is far graver news than that, I’m afraid. Sir, your father is dead.”
“What?”
“Sir, your father is dead.”
Fritz IV’s face lit up when he heard those magic words come out of the servant’s mouth. “YES! Father’s dead! Father’s dead! Oh Polly, I’m Archbishop!”
“Sir, you do know that your subjects will expect you to be grief-stricken. Can’t you squeeze out just a small tear?”
“Certainly not! I only cry about things that matter! Besides, I’m nearly seventy-five years old! Nearly seventy-five! I’ve been waiting that long for my father to kick the bucket!”

November 28th, 1906
Duhaba Cathedral


Fritz IV sat on the throne in the Duhaba Cathedral. All around him, his supporters cheered as the coffin of Fritz III was laid before him. Fritz IV placed a single lily-of-the-valley on the head. In that moment, an unnatural silence came across the room. Fritz IV looked up, yelled out, “Now the old Archbishop is dead. May Polly and Allah rest his soul.” The attendees of the event reiterated, “May Polly and Allah rest his soul.”
He stood up from the throne. As he stood, the Grand Inquisitor of Pollyist Faith presented him with his sovereign orb on his right side and the President of Parliament presented him with his scepter. They were no longer his father’s crown jewels. They were his crown jewels. He was the Archbishop.

[Southern Gragastavia]

October 20th, 1906
Musha

Ali El-Mofty sat at his desk in his flat on 542 East 72nd Street. He did not live in the city, but he was in often enough for business that it was more economical to purchase a flat, rather than to keep renting hotel rooms. El-Mofty's morning was spent taking telephone calls with the governors of the provinces and other important officials as well as verifying documents. Even a casual observer could tell that the southern provinces were planning something. They were planning to separate from Gragastavia as a whole and make their own nation.

El-Mofty took calls from all over the nation: the Governor of Seringpatam, the Governor of Shakara, the Governor of Gentius, pretty much anyone south of the Duhaba. The main exception was Fort Schechtmann, which was under military control and would not renounce its loyalty to the Archbishop. He took his final call for the morning, stood up, pushed his chair in and headed down to his club for lunch.

The Green Tavern, it was called. Indeed, it was quite green. The walls were green, the floors were green, the waiters' vests were green, it all was green. He sat down at his usual table, number four, and had his usual lunch order brought out. He first had a glass of water to cleanse his palate, followed by a bottle of the club claret. A bean salad was presented to him, followed by a watercress sandwich and a slice of pork pie. He tied his napkin about his throat, picked up his silverware, and began to eat.

October 24th, 1906
Musha

El-Mofty awoke with the sun. Already, a stack of papers had been placed outside his door which went to show the efficienty of the Gragastavian Postal Service. He picked them up and read through the top few as he walked into the apartment. Most of them were either advertisments, which El-Mofty promptly threw away. However, a letter from a certain Augustus Everett drew his attention. The letter requested his presence as soon as possible at the Musha Assembly House. He set the rest of his mail down, headed down to the street and hailed a taxi.

He arrived half an hour later, had already spoken with the clerk and was directed into Everett's office. It was on the top floor of the town hall and it was labelled "Prime Minister." He knocked on it and the voice responded with "Come."

El-Mofty entered, "You sent for me, Mr. Everett?"
"I believe so. Mr. El-Mofty, I presume?" Everett inquired.
"Yes, sir."
"Very well, then. I have been following your efforts to get the other provincial leaders to renounce their loyalty to Archbishop Fritz. As we know, his government will be weak right now and we must use this time to strike," Everett said as his face widened into a smile, "All of the governors have renounced their loyalty. Their representatives have nominated you to become our president. I hate to spring this upon you so soon, but do you accept? These are extraordinary times and we need the best man for the job. Which would be you."
"I accept."

October 25th, 1906
Musha

El-Mofty walked into his newly-furnished office. His secretary had already taken the liberty to supply him with the information that he would need to run the nation, as well as a copy of Machiavelli's The Prince. Glancing at the first page, he knew instantly that a military would be needed to defend the new nation of Southern Gragastavia. He would have to issue a call for militia. But that could wait until he finished reading the pamphlets.

[Gragastavia]

October 20th, 1921
Schechtmann Palace, Al Duhaba



Archbishop Fritz IV rested nonchantly in one of his palace's many lounges. It was just him there, as he liked to be alone at some point during the day so he could collect his himself. His job was not hard, though it was quite stressful. He sipped a glass of champagne as he stared blankly at a wall. One of his first executive orders was to have the tapestries removed from that wall and to have it repainted white. He loved staring at it. It was his only source of stress relief that he could take while on the job, not counting his restroom breaks.

He downed a third glass, laid back on the lounger, stared at the ceiling. It was completely silent, aside from the ticking of his watch. Fritz continued staring for another five minutes, until his tranquility was interrupted by his chamberlain. The look on his face tight, as if he was expecting to be beheaded after he spoke his piece. "Your Holiness, I bear terrible news," he started.
"Pray go on, Chamberlain," Schechtmann said sarcastically.
"Sir, every province south of the Duhaba River, save for Fort Schechtmann, has renounced its loyalty to you. Sir," the chamberlain said quickly. After he stopped, he bit his lip.
Fritz nearly choked on his wine, "Well, then. We cannot allow that to happen, now can we?"
"No, sir."
"That was rhetorical, Chamberlain," Fritz responded, exasperated.
"Yes, sir."
"Right then. Yes, help me up, please. Help your venerable archbishop to stand. My bones aren't what they used to be," Fritz said as he struggled to stand, "There. That's better," Fritz declared as he readjusted himself. "Send out a dispatch to the First General. Tell him to organize the Regular Army. I will personally write to the Grand Inquistor and tell him to send down the Pollyist Brigade. If they mean to have a war, then let it begin here."

[Ruthsen]

October 21st, 1906
Ashon Palace, Loneron


The current state of affairs in Gragastavia was quite worrying for Edward XVI, current ruling monarch of Ruthsen. At this point, Ruthsen was a known Great Power, and had stakes all over the world. Amongst those "stakes" was a state-owned company, ruled in partnership with Gragastavia - the Ruthseno-Gragastavian Oil Company. Indeed, Gragastavian oil was an essential component in keeping the Ruthsenian industrial and military machine in working. It was decided to send an emergency telegram to Archbishop Fritz IV at once, as to find out what was happening. Of course, technology wasn't very advanced back then, which meant that it only allowed for a short message:

"concerned about current state of affairs and well-being of oil company , please reply , Empanel to us . Edward XVI"

It wasn't anything special, but it got the message through. Considering the importance of the oil wells in Gragastavia, the Emperor was prepared to send armed forces to protect Ruthsens' interests... and perhaps form a new colony. Indeed, Gragastavia was severely weakened at the moment by in-fighting, and their oil reserves would be most welcome.

[Gragastavia]

October 21st, 1921
Schechtmann Palace, Al Duhaba



It was rather late at night when Fritz IV received the telegram from the Ruthsenians. There was a new telegraph operator on the job and his ineptitude had caused a mixup with the delivery of the telegrams. Even then, when Fritz finally got the telegram in his hands, the operator had written it down wrong and the translation made little sense. So, he passed it on to the linguistics department of the Gragastavian Royal Intelligence Service to make sense of it. Now, he finally had the perfected copy of the telegram.

The Ruthsenians’ concern for the war in relation to the oil trade was well warranted. Indeed, the mass majority of their nation relied on oil to keep running. The Ruthseno-Gragastavian Oil Company was win-win for both nations. The Gragastavians got money for their oil, while the Ruthsenians got oil to run their nation. Not that Gragastavia needed the money, they had plenty of it, but the extra gold always helped fund large government undertakings, like the Schechtmann Dam that his uncle, Ignatius Schechtmann, had commissioned.

Fritz IV read through the telegram once more, took up his fountain pen and wrote out an eloquently worded letter to the Ruthsenians. He sprinkled it with sand to dry the ink, then took it to his more senior telegraph operator to have it transmitted. Due to the lack of technology, his letter would be shortened into a series of phrases and abbreviations to convey the point.

Edward 16-

Concern noted. Battle soon. Will keep updated.

Yours,
Fritz 4

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October 24th, 1921
Fort Duhaba



The Gragastavian Regular Army had set up its camp in Al Duhaba. Of the estimated three million soldiers in the Regulars, a third of them were in Al Duhaba, preparing to siege Musha. The camp was organized by division, then brigade, battalion, and company. The soldiers moved about, trying to keep themselves busy until the order to cross the Duhaba River came. Some were drilling, others were eating, and a few organized a football game. The main exception to the idleness was the Pollyist Brigade, who were still building their longhall, since they refused to be housed in tents.

Off in the distance, a storm brewed. While the temperature was still rather warm, at least warm by Gragastavian standards, once the first autumn storm came in, the Duhaba would rise and replenish the soil, making travel across it nearly impossible. If the soldiers were to strike, it would have to be hard, it would have to be fast, and most importantly, it would have to be soon. If the officers waited too long, they would let an opportunity to crush the uprising quickly fly away with the wind, letting the Southern Gragastavians grow in the strength. For now, all the soldiers could do was wait.

[Southern Gragastavia]

October 25th, 1906
Musha



The irregulars from all over Southern Gragastavia had organized in Musha to begin the defense of their capital. Tension was high, but that was to be expected. Gragastavia had been in relative peace for the last fifty years, or at least peace in which the irregulars had not been needed to defend the nation. Indeed, majority of the Southern Gragastavian Army's weapons were outdated. They had not seen a need to upgrade from their percussion muzzleloaders or lever-action rifles to the new breach-loading, bolt-action rifles. Most of these new citizen-soldiers were not acustomed to the discipline that the officer who defected from Northern Gragastavia had expected them to have. The primary exception were the military veterans and the soldiers who had not yet completed their enlistment to the Gragastavian Regular Army, but defected to the South.

The soldiers had taken to building fortifications out of what could be found. Wood, stone, dirt, whatever could be found was put to use. It wasn't expected that many would be killed, but the extra shielding would help prevent any unneeded casualities.

Whatever artillery there was, it was formed into a line and ordered to bombard across the river. Not that that would make much of a difference, it just helped demoralize the enemy. Indeed, when the Northern Gragastavians crossed the rivers, the shells and cannonballs fired from the hodge-podge artillery would hopefully destroy one or two of the boats and help mow down some of the soldiers when they charged, assuming that that was what the enemy general had in mind. It was likely, as it was still considered dishonorable to indirectly attack one's enemy.

Despite the waste of ordinance, the artillery barrage continued on well into the night. Hopefully, that should show the Northern Gragastavians that they were a force to be reckoned with.

[Gragastavia]

October 26th, 1921
5 miles away from Musha



The Northern Gragastavians had spent the morning crossing the Duhaba River. All that the soldiers were waiting on now was the supply carts, but those could wait. The First General was indisposed and therefore unable to manage the campaign himself, so he handed control of the Regular Army off to Lieutenant General William MacFarlane and Colonel Kader Sarkis Jr, the son of the former president. The two commanders were at ends: MacFarlane was more cautious and valued the lives of his soldiers, while Sarkis preferred to go all out and focus on what he would do to the enemy and not what the enemy would do to him. Despite teh conflicting personalities, the regulars marched on.

They stopped at a ridge about half a league away from the enemy lines. They were protected from any enemy gunfire, but the artillery still proved to be a threat. MacFarlane and Sarkis both knew that an assault was needed. A half hour of debate between the staff of both commanders went by, and it was determined that Sarkis would lead the first wave, a cavalry charge, personally to break their lines. Then, the infantry would go over the top of the ridge, fix their bayonets, and charge into the hail of incoming bullets. It was suicide, but it was necessary to attack before the rains came in.

It was expected by most Gragastavians that this war would end with a quick show of force by the North. Indeed, this is what that show of force was supposed to be. Sarkis' cavalry had lined up in a wedge shape, with Sarkis at the tip. He drew his sword, swung it in the air a few times, then raised it and quickly brought it down. Instantly, the horses surged forward into the inevitable hail of bullets from the enemy lines. To his sides, men and horses fell, shot by the little pieces of lead flying in the air. Thirty feet, he counted mentally, Twenty, fifteen, ten, five. The survivors of the charge drew back their swords and slashed down into the enemy ranks slicing anything that they made contact with. A brief period of five minutes passed and the cavalrymen had started their return to their lines, bullets and curses being thrown at them from behind.

When Sarkis and his battered horsemen returned, their were fewer than fifty of the original five-hundred. Already, the infantry had fixed their bayonets and were awaiting the order. The sergeants passed a few bottles of arak through their ranks to heighten their spirits and to get them slightly buzzed. If the men had to die, then at least they wouldn't feel so much pain. The Pollyists were the only exception. They had shucked off their clothes and were praying. No one knew why they went into battle nude, but most thought it was to frighten the enemy. Others thought that it was so their clothes wouldn't get in the way of their relentless melee assaults. Whatever the reason was, there was no arguing.

The order was given to prepare to charge. The soldiers perked up and formed into their lines. A seemingly interminable span of time went by and the whistles were finally blown. Each man climbed over the ridge and faced the wall of metal before them. As if by design, the storm clouds that had sat overhead suddenly began to start their downpour. Not only did the soldiers have to worry about being blown to bits by the bullets, but they also had to worry about sinking into the sand if they had been hit. Nevertheless, they charged. The cries of "faugh a ballagh" from the Irish Brigade mixed with the cries and wails of the Gragastavians and the melodical hum of the Pollyists, who seemed rather tranquil about walking into certain death.

At last, they reached the lines of the Southern Gragastavians and the hand-to-hand fighting broke out. Overhead, the downpour had become heavier, almost instantly drowning those who fell. The strecher carries and orderlies rescued who they could before they were drowned or bled out. Soon, the battle would be over and the shattered armies would return back to their bases to recuperate.

[Southern Gragastavia]

October 27th, 1906
Outskirts of Musha



The broken Southern Gragastavian soldiers made a relatively orderly withdraw from their conquered capital. El-Mofty, Everett, and General Boulous had all agreed that the politicans should set up the new government in Seringpatam and that some of the soldiers would be sent to guard the city. The rest would be split into two armies, one to patrol the Duhaba River and the other to patrol along the Mediterranean Sea with the navy. The battle was lost at Musha, yes, but not the war. The war would continue on until every last one of the republicans had either laid down their arms or were killed.

There was an ulterior motive to sending the army to Seringpatam, however. The city contained a weapons cache used by Gragastavian Regular Army before they left or defected. Seringpatam's position on the Babla Plateau also provided it with an excellent view of the surrounding terrain. An army the size of the Regular Army could be seen over three miles off on a clear day and just about every day in Gragastavia was clear. Hopefully, the North Gragastavians would never get to Seringpatam, but it was still good to be cautious.

[Gragastavia]

October 27th, 1921
Musha



The battle was over, the corpse looting was done, the population was left unmolested. Now, the work of the soldiers was done and the work of the politicians took over. Annexing a captured city could be one of the hardest tasks. The populace may not even want you there, but it was up to you to keep order. The battle beforehand had taken its toll. Of the original million, about 250,000 of the soldiers taking the city had been killed and another 500,000 wounded. For a rag-tag band of irregulars with outdated weaponry, they had inflicted a healthy amount of damage on the Regular Army.

The soldiers who remained had taken the liberty to set up camp and await new orders. Despite losing so many comrades, they were still in good spirits. The propaganda in their training had told them that overall victory trumps human loss. While it was good for keeping order among soldiers, it was not entirely true. Archbishop Fritz IV had taken his horse, Dionysus, and ridden out to the battlefield. Flanked on both sides with guards, he surveyed the casualities. As many leaders facing a civil war had thought before, Fritz IV thought as well, Is it really worth spilling all this blood for so little gain? MacFarlane had noticed him and spurred his horse toward him, saluted, and said, "Your Holiness, the rebels have retreated, sir."
Fritz IV nodded, "I can see that, General. How many killed?"
"About a quarter of them, sir," MacFarlane replied.
"And for what prize?" Fritz IV asked of no one in particular.
"Your Holiness?" one of his guards asked.
"Nevermind, Blinkensop. I'm brooding again. I'll leave it to the poets," he said as he turned to MacFarlane, "General, let's finish up and bury these men."
"Yes, sir," MacFarlane said and rode away.

Fritz IV jotted down a note, handed it to one of his lieutenants and ordered him to have it transmitted to the Ruthsenians. The message was simple, as it read, "Costly victory at Musha. Oil fields may be threatened. Help is nallary."

The camps were alive, even this deep into the night, with the songs of the victorious. Fritz IV stared out to the fires illuminating the night, said aloud, "Being a soldier requires a certain degree of insanity. Allowing yourself to be shot at time and time again is just not normal behaviour. Perhaps they just like killing, or maybe they feel obligated. We shall never know," he paused, stared a little while longer, "Now, let us go. I care not to view another second of this."

[Ruthsen]

October 28th, 1906
Ruthsen



"Hell shall arrive shortly . Edward XVI" was the short message that the telegram conveyed. The oil from Gragastavia was too important to risk. However, the Emperor was not sending men to the Arab country as a sign of good will, a few additional factors were counted in. He had men in Gragastavia, sent there even before contact was first established between the two nations, as to report anything and everything that was going on - and reports were bad. They were afraid that the Southerners might win this war - they had widespread support. This was bad news - it was a well-known fact that the rebels wished to pursue an isolationist policy, which meant much less oil than before for Ruthsen. Then there was the fact that Edward XVI (and most high-ranked Ruthsenians) did not like the Gragastavians - they were Arabs, and Ruthsenian scientific studies had concluded that Arabs were of a slightly lesser intelligence than your average European. Of course, they weren't comparable to the negro, but they were still an inferior race.

Recruitment process had started for the Expeditionary Force. It was decided to raise a whole new Army whose sole purpose was to participate in this event, after which it would be disbanded. A ten million force was to be formed. Given the urgency of the situation, it was decided to take in men that were already soldiers, instead of simply training new ones.

[Gragastavia]

November 12, 1921
Al Duhaba



The Regular Army had not moved for almost a month. Throughout the past weeks, there had been almost four inches of rain weekly. So, all the army could really was wait until the rains subsided. A fort had been built on the outskirts of Musha to prevent the soldiers from mingling too much with the populace, lest looting breaks out. This monsoon had not been as worse as the ones in the past and the Duhaba River was rising at the expected rate.

Despite all the rain, the people of Al Duhaba went about their business. Taxi drivers drove their taxis, merchants sold their products, craftsmen practiced their trade, Parliament kept debating. It was all a day's work for Gragastavia's capital city. Fritz IV spent most of his time either riding Dionysus or in his study, reading various literary works. There was not much work for him to do. The war seemed so far away and the economic effects had not yet caused any increase in prices in Al Duhaba. Still, he knew that to win the war, he would have to dispatch the Gragastavian Royal Navy. The problem was that the weather would prevent him from doing so. Even if there was a gap in the rain, the ship would still have to be loaded and the crew would have to board. Loading or boarding a ship in choppy waters is hardly ideal.

Foreign relations was well, at least in Fritz's opinion. The Ruthsenian soldiers were bound to arrive in one of the following days and they would bolster the manpower in the Regular Army.

[Southern Gragastavia]

November 12, 1906
Seringpatam



Like Schechtmann, El-Mofty, Everett, and the rest of the Southern Gragastavian Army were stuck in Seringpatam. The rains had not subsided for a few days, but on the 14th the soldiers would dispatch to their posts no matter what the weather brought. Most had been armed with new bolt-action rifles. The obsolete weapons were either sold to collectors or melted down for scrap metal.

The idleness was not bad. It gave the soldiers time to rest, uniforms had come in, and it gave them time to get used to their new weapons. Yet, they were still expected to march and fight in rank and file. No one objected, as that was how the Gragastavian Regular Army had been doing it forever and it always worked, so why stray from what was tried and true?

[Ruthsen]

November 15, 1906
Al Duhaba



Indeed the two leaders had communicated through telegrams this whole time, so it was obvious that the Gragastavian officials would know when the Ruthsenian troops would arrive. The Expeditionary Force was nicknamed the "Esercito Frascinni" (The Frascinnian Army) by its' soldiers, due to the large number of volunteers that hailed from the Frascinnian peninsula (almost half of them). The second largest groups were split evenly between the Lesais and the Willsmen, and the rest of the unit was spread evenly between the rest of the European ethnic groups. Amongst those Europeans, however, there were also several hundred Jumhuri men - fluent in Arabic (while being Sunni Muslims as well, which would surely please some of the locals), they were interpreters. Most of the men were experienced soldiers

Since Gragastavia was situated in the Middle East, it belonged to the Asian TO. As such, the military commanders for this operation had to be brought all way in from the Gaṇarajyan peninsula, but they hooked up with the rest of the unit in the Frascinnian peninsula eventually. Although the REF had ten million men as promised, a lot of them were non-combat personnel - nurses, chaplains, and so on.

The REF had just arrived at Al Duhaba (with no problems so far), and were prepared to leave their "transports"

[Southern Gragastavia]

November 15th, 1906
Road to Arnak



The 2nd Army of the Southern Gragastavian Army was dispatched to garrison Arnak. It was assumed by many of the soldiers as well as General Boulous that they were going there to wait for the next rainstorm to travel to Kata, then to Fort Schechtmann to begin a siege. Surprisingly, the rain had cleared out on the 14th, which let the soldiers travel much faster than they would have originally. It was obvious, though, that despite this brief period of clear weather, the storms would come in again.

General Boulous, rather than using carts to transport his supplies, used camels. They were much faster than horses and carts, especially in the desert. It may take more camels to transport the same amount of supplies, but speed was what mattered, not efficientcy. Boulous had to reach Arnak before the next storm or before the Northern Gragastavians reached it. The former was more likely to happen than the latter.

Boulous' network of connections had informed him that the Northern Gragastavians were getting assistance from the Ruthsenians, but he did not know when. Either way, he knew, his men would still fight to the last man, no matter what enemy they faced.

[Gragastavia]

November 15th, 1921
Al Duhaba



"I'm pretty sure they Ruthsenians won't mind if I'm not there to attend their unloading. I'm fairly certain that Admiral Blackwood or General Alfarsi will be able to sort them out," Fritz IV said to his colleague, Gideon Addison.
"I agree. Blackwood's always done a go-" Addison said before he was interrupted by the football team running out on the field.

It was the first home game for the Al Duhaba Football Team, who were playing the team from Nimre. The band played the Gragastavian National Anthem, Bent il Duhaba. Roughly translated, it means Daughter of the Duhaba. With the conclusion of the song, pistol was fired and the Nimre Football Team possesion of the ball first, as was customary with teams who were hosting another. The ball was kicked and the game began.

A waiter came around, offered Fritz IV and Addison a beverage. Both men ordered the football club's house beer, as a way of saluting the European origins of football. The waiter nodded and left to fill the orders. Fritz's focus on the game was dispelled again, as an attendenant came and to tell him that the Ruthsenians had started unloading their soldiers. Fritz wrote a note on a scrap of paper and told the attendant to send it to Edward XVI via telegram.

Soldiers recieved. They are unloading. Regards, Fritz IV

The waiter returned with the wine and the focus shifted to the game once more. By the end of the first half, the score was Al Duhaba - 1, Nimre - Nil. Maybe they actually had a chance of winning the Schechtmann Cup this season.

[Ruthsen]

November 15th, 1906
Al Duhaba

Several men, all of them officers (it was quite obvious by their uniforms) had gotten off their boats, while the NCOs, infantrymen, and other assorted personnel, both combat and auxiliary, remained on the large, overcrowded boats. Everyone, with a few exceptions (like the nurses, which the observant eye would notice they were all women) wore khaki uniforms, as to blend in with the desert area.

One of the officers, presumably the commanding one, shouted at the top of his lungs, in pure, upper-class Ruthsenian "ATTENTION!". Everyone had frozen in place, no one was talking at all, in fact, no one moved a bit. Everyone stared at the officer, paying attention to what he was about to say, those simple words... "UNLOAD" he shouted again. An old man in his 60s, also dressed in a khaki uniform, quickly approached the commanding officer. The man had a rather dark skin, it was obvious that he came from one of the colonies. This individuals' purpose was a simple one - to act as a translator from Ruthsenian to Arabic, and vice versa. One could notice that the REF had a lot of men who weren't European, who were also to act as translators for the soldiers.

The commanding officer approached what appeared to be the highest ranking Gragastavian officer, and extended his hand "Sir Orlando Moretti, baron of Dronero and commanding officer of the Ruthsenian Expeditionary Force.", with the old man quickly translating it into Arabic.

[Gragastavia]

November 15th, 1921
Al Duhaba



Captain Horatio Garnett accepted the officer's hand and said in fluent Ruthsenian with a hint of an Arabic accent, "Captain Sir Horatio Garnett of His Holiness's 38th Regiment of Foot, at your service." He gave a slight bow, then continued. "Unfortunately, General Alfarsi and Admiral Blackwood were delayed in their arrival, but they should be here soon. At any rate, sir, as soon as the paperwork is filed, a liaison staff will be commissioned to you to help our two armies collaborate to defeat the radicals in the south. Should you require anything with the disembarking of your soldiers, please let me know. I trust the voyage went well?"

As Garnett finished speaking, an automobile pulled up behind him and out stepped two men, one about six feet, the other almost seven feet. The shorter one, medium skinned, dark hair, dark eyed, approached first, extending his hand, said, "General Mohammed Alfarsi, First Baron Alfarsi, commander of the Gragastavian forces stationed in Al Duhaba." The taller one, very pale, followed, "Admiral Viscount Preston Blackwood, First Admiral of the Gragastavian Navy." Both commanders had paushed after they had finished speaking to allow the translators to translate.