NATION

PASSWORD

Klaus' War {IC|MT|CLOSED}

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]

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Pan-Asiatic States
Minister
 
Posts: 3148
Founded: Nov 14, 2017
Authoritarian Democracy

Postby Pan-Asiatic States » Wed Sep 25, 2019 5:17 am

LUDISLAU
THE REPUBLIC OF SAATLAND


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"A bosom friend afar brings distant land nearer."
- Ancient Chinese Proverb



Wu Jingyi adamantly flipped through his copy of the Neo-Manila Post, disguising his political intentions by adapting the attire of a Westernized Capilean: an apricot-colored long-sleeved shirt tucked into white pants, covered by a thick fur coat. He had received his apparel as a gift from one of his friends in the Asian Communist Party operating as a political charge d'affaires to a few left-wing factions in Canada a few weeks prior. Such attire was uncommon in retail stores of the Pan-Asiatic States, even in densely-populated economic development zones.

Jingyi was exhausted, eyebags hung from him rather deeply and conspicuously. Though he, a foreign emissary, should have been used to the conditions of this profession by now, the jet lag still took its toll on him, as it did everyone else. The strict and rigorous process which Saatland customs officers, who suspected everyone and anyone of being a Monarchist, Communist, or Fascist spy, entered him through, did not even nearly contribute to the betterment of his physical well-being. Nevertheless, he carried-on with the remainder of his strength; Jingyi hastily retrieved his bag from the airport's conveyer belt. He glared at a nearby clock as he exited the airport proper. It was around noontime.

Mere days ago, Wu Jingyi served the diplomatic corps in a less covert (if anything but covert) fashion, as a socioeconomic consultant in New Palembang City. There, he had spent his days growing fat on foreign delicacies, and maintaining the becoming of a Pan-Asiatic delegate. But now, things were different. Instead of buffet-tables and snobby political intrigue, he'd found himself surrounded by political activists, gendarme, and eventually, war.

Wu Jingyi had traveled from Neo-Manila to Paris, then from Paris to Ludislau, in Saatland, a neutral territory. When questioned by Saatlander officials, the guise he used to repress the true nature of his visit was a white lie: a fact-finding mission by the Asian Communist Party to survey the socioeconomic conditions of the Saatlander government in relations to how it had been handling its impromptu secession from the Grand Duchy. The truth of the lie was of course twofold, as the Asian Communist Party was indeed considering deploying socioeconomic aid for Saatland in the event of that its secession was not short-lived, and Wu Jingyi had indeed come on a fact-finding mission; albeit for a different reason.

Jingyi set his eyes on the lay of the land; the grandiose European architecture of the stateside, the workers in the factory, the schoolchildren in the schools, the avowedly religious population which went-about their day-to-day duties despite the rigidness of the conflict. Reaching one of the decorated fountains in the city's plaza, he sat alongside his luggage, awaiting a taxi. He brought-out his cellular phone, hoping there at least remained the maintenance of serviceable telecommunications despite active civil strife.

His wish was granted as a scruffy voice with a Southern Chinese accent picked-up his outgoing call.

"How's Nova Capile, Comrade-Socioeconomic-Officer? I hear the poppies in the countryside are lovely this time of year."

Jingyi recognized the irony in the caller's response, which had addressed him by his cover, and not as a rapporteur for the executive council, as he actually was. The voice was Qian Ling, his handler in the Ministry of State and Public Security, inquiring from Neo-Manila.

"Well, it's colder than New Palembang," retorted Jingyi. He shivered as a cool Capilean breeze flew down his spine. He motioned to close his coat, increasing its grip on Jingyi's body, thus increasing too, its thickness.

"Your feet wet?", asked the caller. The frozen climate of Saatland in September typically caused thin sheets of ice to form, beneath which were, nominally, a wet surface.

"Not yet.", responded Jingyi. He smiled at the newly-polished gleam of his boots.

A taxi noticed the gestures of the tall Chinese man. The ruggedly-dressed, Caucasian-Saatlander driver picked-up Jingyi. Upon being asked where to be taken, Jingyi replied it was to be at a well-known restaurant at the Capilean countryside, near the river situated North of Ludislau, just outside Kongsburg. He wanted to get as far near the border as he could, while not making his intentions obvious to the driver. A nonchalant shrug, one that Jingyi had been hoping for, preceded the driver stepping on the gas with full force. There wasn't much traffic on the way there.

Riding by the sites of the countryside and listening to the ramblings of his driver, the Pan-Asiatic agent would soon realize that the once revered and majestic country of Nova Capile was now an utter warzone, many of its sights had turn to disrepair, and all the grandeur that it had displayed regarding the superiority of its culture, monarchy, and heritage was now in disarray. The mighty, once-united Grand Duchy was, just as it was common for any human civilization, now hounded by ideological fanatics. The Capilean aristocracy was being slaughtered just as any man could be slaughtered. The war seemed to bring Nova Capile down to Earth. Jingyi had to keep his guard up, because everyone else already had.

When Jingyi got-off after tipping his driver a rather heavy sum, it was around two in the afternoon. After the car he had taken had disappeared into the nearby horizon, he set foot to meet General-Secretary Terry Blücher and the Socialist Union on behalf of the Pan-Asiatic cause. He marched South of the Kongs Mountains, trailing Northward to where locals had foretold of the legendary Communist base. He hid in his luggage his credentials to testify that he was a member of the Asian Communist Party.
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Akordania
Secretary
 
Posts: 36
Founded: Sep 12, 2019
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Akordania » Wed Sep 25, 2019 6:11 pm


REICH FIELD HEADQUARTERS
FRENCH FREE STATE

With a groan the gates to the command post swung open to reveal a wide lane flanked by multiple machine gun nests, stopping at a dirt plot packed with row upon row of canvas tents. Making a hard right, Companies A through C rolled down the lane toward the tents, decelerating and carefully coasting toward the Akordanian side of the camp. As they approached, paratroopers could be seen lifting weights in a clearing-- their bare upper bodies revealing thin sheens of sweat from the warmth of the summer sun. Rap blasted from a nearby speaker, guarded by a barrel chested soldier taking a cigarette break in between sets. The column halted in front of the tents, and in seconds much of the camp descended upon them; aiding the wounded as the remaining soldiers crawled out of their respective vehicles. Colonel Rybakov herself clambered out of an Ural truck along with her staff, removing her helmet and balaclava with a sigh of relief. Buckling her helmet to her belt loop as she walked, she turned to the Sergeant Major.

"A bit of a fucking disaster there toward the end."

The old soldier nodded slowly, slipping a cigarette between his lips before holding his pack out to the commander. She gladly accepted it, using her own light as they ducked into a tent. Inside laid a humble command center, staffed by six soldiers who were currently waiting by a sizable table in the middle. On top of the table, an eight-digit grid map was laid out, along with two manila folders stuffed full of photos. The Junior Lieutenant in charge rendered a salute while the others snapped to attention.

"At ease, men. As you know, on your way toward the rally point issued by the Reich, Companies A through C of 1st Battalion encountered a sizable pocket of resistance and was unable to advance alongside the remainder of the Brigade. After a successful first engagement, resulting in a rout of local French elements, we were forced to break contact here..." she pointed a gloved finger at a small village on the outskirts of Gravines proper, "due to a Bavarian host joining the fight. Simultaneously, we made contact with Stoßtruppen units committed to that particular sector. Through them we managed to finally establish communications with the headquarters here and get the rest of the Brigade to our designated staging area. From there, 1st Battalion rallied and pushed westward through the village, again into contested areas. The Bavarians utilized destroyed armor and fragments from the ruins to forge makeshift barriers, which caught us off guard. Additionally they committed the rest of the French to man machine guns in nearby buildings as overwatch. Sergeant Major, take the reins so I can finish my smoke."

The Colonel took a long drag of her cigarette as her seniormost NCO stepped forward, crushing his own smoke beneath his boot.

"Rog. So the commander ordered a mounted assault at the forward edge of their defenses. First batt's heavy armor went static to serve as artillery, battering the lines as Company A spearheaded alongside the Capileans' tanks. Behind A, the men of B and C dismounted beside their BMD's and formed two layers of assault lines. To make a long story short, the offense was rock solid up until our air superiority was compromised. Bavarian air assets ran multiple fire missions and completely disabled our light armor on the ground, as well as gouging a huge hole in A's manpower. Bolstered by the next two assault lines, however, we were able to push onward into the enemy. We quickly overwhelmed their forwardmost positions but were repulsed after yet another Bavarian host arrived to relieve their brothers. As a result, Colonel Rybakov ordered 1st Batt to break contact again under the cover of heavy shelling and smokescreens at the rear. 1st Battalion is in dire need of some relief for the time being, so two is on deck. The Stoßwehr are still holding down positions at the village. In fact, those crazy bastards are still attempting to bend the line yet again. Given the level of reinforcement, it may be advisable to try another part of the line. On the other hand, however, the French will have significantly stronger footholds anywhere else we'd go. At this point, we need something fast and decisive-- at least with enough momentum to be on top of the enemy position there and prevent any close air support."

The Junior Lieutenant at the head of the staff nodded, and looked toward Lt. Colonel Rybakov.

"Ma'am, if you'd entertain it, my staff have already prepared a maneuver for your approval. Please, revise it as you like."


GRAVINES
FRENCH FREE STATE

By dusk, the mighty Stoßwehr held the line with an iron fist against the fresh Bavarian reinforcements. Their sleek jets, baring the infamous Wolf's head ran fire mission after fire mission under fire to support their boys on the ground, and to great affect; the Reich was undoubtedly exhausting the Bavarian host at the gates of Gravines. Colonel Rybakov accompanied the 2nd Battalion Tactical Group, 3rd Brigade as they rode back into the storm to relieve their Capilean brothers-in-arms. Maintaining a loose column as they rolled through the streets, it was Rybakov's intention to "assault from march"; wasting no time to maneuver into an offensive posture and instead deploying units at enemy contact. The 2nd BTG soon passed friendly control points into the thick of the fighting, where a sea of grey uniforms seemed to ebb and flow against the enemy line. The T-72 platoons of Company D and E split to the left and right flank, laying smokescreens with their 902B Tucha dischargers as the remainder of the companies made a dismounted advance beside their BMDs; establishing three layers of assault lines with 300m breaks to prevent splash damage from concentrated enemy fire. 300 meters behind them, Rybakov and Battalion HQ slowed to a crawl, accompanied by an anti-tank and grenade launcher platoon. At the very rear of the formation sat the anti-aircraft platoon, fragmenting into a mounted and dismounted element. The dismounted troops were charged with the task of protecting the rear as an extra safety measure, despite being bolstered by a substantial Reich host. Additionally, in the event of a weakening flank, they would be dispatched to provide extra weight in the fight.

The aging 2K22 Tunguska SPAAGs groaned as they halted, setting to work to punch a hole through the growing Bavarian-dominated airspace above the village. Utilizing their automatic radar, the 30mm cannons made short work of buzzing Bavarian jets, tearing them apart and sending their husks spiraling into the ground. A bomber that had been particularly pesky in the prior engagement saw its last sortie as a 9M311 missile collided with its tail and tore the airframe apart into a shower of fire and shrapnel. With the aid of the SPAAGs and the stubborn Stoßwehr air assets, time could finally be bought for a prolonged assault. In the event that the Bavarians could indeed overcome this force multiplication, it would be too late. Reich forces would be on top of the Bavarians.

At the front of the offensive, the T-72s maintained the smokescreen, all the while obliterating enemy tanks in the line with HEAT rounds from their 125mm cannons. Intermittently, the screech of a missile from the portable Metis system would pierce the air, before burying itself in Bavarian armor and unleashing hellfire. With the pressure mounting, Bavarian troops sandwiched between friendly and enemy armor were slaughtered in droves, before being forced to abandon their current positions or quite literally be crushed by encroaching armor. Pushing up the center now alongside the T-72s was the combined strength of Spetsnaz and Stoßarmee "Wotan" under Lieutenant General Falk, pausing intermittently as they intersected their fields of fire and picked off scores of exposed and retreating Bavarians. At last, the smokescreens died to reveal the massive Reich host once again to the enemy, who seemed resolute on fighting and dying at the city gates. The center formation smashed through the enemy line as it folded into itself under the flanking pressure of Akordanian armor, now turning the Bavarians' only means of escape into a fatal funnel directly into the city. Above them, Stoßwehr jets returned to the fight during this critical window, strafing the condensing Bavarian soldiers and reducing entire fireteams to little more than pink mist.

Rybakov and Falk now had them by the hair, and she sure as hell was not about to let go. She ordered Battalion HQ to resume the advance, accompanied by supporting platoons. Dismounted troops in the AA platoon clambered back onto their respective vehicles, taking up the rear behind HQ and advancing Capilean reserves. Joint Reich forces up ahead continued the push, keeping the Bavarians in the planned funnel and forcing them into a retreat. Despite this, the left flank was taking a particularly sore beating, with the concentration of remaining enemy armor being weighted on that end. Even still, the concealment of the initial advance and the introduction of anti-air assets had made its affect. The line had been broken and overcome. Laying before the Akordanians was the mouth of Gravines.
Last edited by Akordania on Thu Sep 26, 2019 12:29 am, edited 1 time in total.
☦ A K O R D A N I A ☦
A struggling post-Soviet dictatorship marred by sectarian violence between the ultranationalistic Eastern Orthodox majority and the Muslim population. Inspired by Romania during its era as the National Legionary State. Also known for its harsh weather, rugged populace, and alcoholism.
Capital: Veroykne
Currency: Veksel
Leader: President Sergei Yukashenko
Population: 9 Million
Exports: Heavy machinery, gasoline, diesel, dairy products
Military: 180,000
Army - 90,000
Air Force - 78,000
Internal Troops - 12,000

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Luxembourg-Bavaria
Envoy
 
Posts: 232
Founded: Jan 25, 2018
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Luxembourg-Bavaria » Thu Sep 26, 2019 11:31 am

Gravines
Free French State





General Werner screamed into his radio.

"By God, Heinrich, if you don't commit the rest of the men we will lose the city! Put the tanks in!"

Krüger, clearly shaken by the conviction in Werner's voice, slowly mustered a response.

"Understood. I will commit the rest of the troops."

As the Reich forces came roaring into view, Bavarian reinforcements began streaming out of the city. Bolstering the line, they stopped the retreat outside the mouth of Gravines. The chaos was evident as men died everywhere. But the line had been re-established. As the enemy armor formations began moving towards the allied troops, the Bavarian armored reserves made themselves known. Emerging from the side streets of the city, Bavarian tanks formed up and attacked. A detachment of Wheeled Battle Tanks broke through the enemy lines and managed to destroy a lone SPAAG before using their mobility to fade back to allied positions. Despite this, some of them succumbed to enemy fire, leaving a smoking hulk in the wake of their allies. However, this created a hole in the Fascist air cover. Bavarian planes began to run the gauntlet of air fire, probing the opening. Several were downed, but a bomber survived and began to wreak havoc on the Fascist infantry. A lead group of both Spetznaz and Stoßwehr commandos were eviscerated by a concentrated drop. The unfazed Stoßwehr pressed on as always, but fear could be seen in the eyes of the other Reich forces. The bomber continued to drop, destroying a few tanks before being taken out by a Fascist fighter. Before it could escape, the anti-air defenses of Gravines opened up, disabling the plane and forcing it down.

The battle swayed back and forth as the allied forces fought to protect the city. The Bavarian heavy armor kept out Fascist tanks while the Wheeled Battle Tanks hunted for lone SPAAGs. The infantry battle began to lean towards the attackers. The Franco-Bavarian troops slowly gave ground, hoping to keep the fighting out of the streets for as long as possible. Snipers set up in the heights of the city, enacting a terrible punishment on the advancing Reich forces. Below the snipers, General Werner had set up a new command center within Gravines.

Werner hollered at his aides.

"Get me Admiral Wagner!"

Men scrambled everywhere as the battle raged on.

"He's on the line, General!"

Werner picked up his field telephone.

"Admiral, what is the fleet's capacity for shelling land positions?"

"A good question, General. We have many cruisers capable of what you ask. But I do believe I have another solution. We have somewhere around 10-15 ships with the capability for cruise missile strikes. The missiles will do similar damage but are much more accurate."

"Aye, Admiral. Tell your missile ships to form up on the coastline and await a transmission receiving strike coordinates."

"Understood. Wagner out."

Werner put down the phone. "Get the WBT* commander on line."

"Yes, sir!... he's on sir!"

"Good."

Werner grabbed the landline.

"Commander! How goes the battle!"

"It's going well, General. We've taken casualties but we now know the positions of the vast majority of SPAAGs in the area."

"Very good. I need you to push through and destroy as many of them as possible. We are looking to send cruise missiles in and we need to knock as many of them out as possible."

"Understood, sir!"

"Very well then. Werner out."

At the mouth of the city, another Reich push was forming up. The hard-pressed Bavarian lines looked in danger of being pushed back into the city. But as the enemy moved forward, men would drop out of line as if struck dead by an invisible force. The snipers proved their worth, blowing holes in a number of Spetznaz heads as the enemy decided to abandon the push in favor of finding cover. A Bavarian bomber roared overhead, flying low to avoid the SPAAG targeting systems. A wave of bombs blanketed the landscape, throwing Fascist troopers everywhere. Still, they came. But the Franco-Bavarian numerical superiority was starting to show. The full weight of Army Group Krüger had begun to tip the scales. Especially needed was the Bavarian armor. Their tanks, purchased from overseas recently, were top-of-the-line and showed it well. Only the Spetznaz tanks could hope to match them in terms of offense or defense.

Away from the infantry battle, the armor on both sides were dueling it out. A detachment of Bavarian "Warg" MBTs* had managed to drive a wedge in the Reich's formation, nearly reaching the old French line before retiring so as to not overextend themselves, while the more mobile tanks are hunting for SPAAGs. Despite the Reich's attempts to protect them, the Bavarians have the upper hand.






Tank Commander Franz Kesselring
1st Wheeled Battle Tanks
Gravines, Nova Capile


Franz Kesselring watched as one of his tanks turned another SPAAG into a scarred metal hulk. Despite losing more tanks than expected, the 1st WBT* had nearly accomplished its mission. They needed to eliminate one more SPAAG emplacement for the cruise missile strike to proceed.

He radioed to his men.

"Alright, boys good work! We've got to take out one more. It should be just over that hill to our right. Let's move!"

The famed mobility of the Wheeled Battle Tank had taken them this far. Kesselring hoped it would get them a little further. He started out commanding 25 tanks. Now he had 15.

As the first Bavarian tanks came up over the hill they were greeted by a terrible sight. Various Fascist tanks, supplemented by a few Spetznaz tanks stood in front of the SPAAG emplacement. Instantly, the battlefield became chaos as shells flew back and forth.

Kesselring yelled down to his driver.


"Keep going for the SPAAG! The rest of them will cover us!"

A salvo of return fire from the Bavarian pulverized a pair of Fascist tanks, giving back as good as they got. But the goal was achieved. The enemy tanks were tied up as Kesselring sped through. As they entered the optimal firing range, Kesselring screamed out.

"Fire now!"

The shell shot out of the tank. The explosion utterly destroyed the SPAAG. At such a close range, it never had a chance. Then, Kesselring's tank took a shell in its tread, disabling it in a fiery explosion. Kesselring grabbed his radio through the smoke to deliver one last message.

"The job is done, men! You've got to make tracks out of here! Tell General Werner the holes have been punched!"

One of the tanks radioed back.

"Roger that, Commander. It's been an honor!"

Kesselring watched as the last allied tank disappeared back over the hill. As the Fascist tanks circled in for the kill, Kesselring's last thought was one of relief. The job had been done.






Lieutenant General Lukas Werner
Bavarian Armed Forces
Gravines, Nova Capile


"General, the 1st WBT is on!"

Werner ran over and picked up the landline.

"Sir, we've knocked out the SPAAGs like you requested. Some remain, but not enough as you said. We took a beating though, lost just over half of our tanks, including Commander Kesselring."

"That does not bode well. But the job is done. Continue back to our main armored formation and watch the fireworks."

"Yes, sir!"

Werner slammed the phone down in joy.

"Inform Admiral Wagner the missile strikes are a go and transmit the missile ships the coordinates."

His aide snapped off a crisp salute in response.

"Sir, yes sir!"

Werner looked out across the battlefield. The tide was turning.






Battle of Gravines

As the battle raged on, the missile ships launched their payload. Countless missiles shot into the sky, intent on delivering their deadly payload. As the remaining Fascist SPAAGs saw this, the efforts to shoot them down intensified. Some were shot down, but the majority reached their targets intact. The blossoming explosions decimated the Fascist forces. Reserve infantry forces were obliterated outside the city. Many tanks met their end as well. Beyond the massive destruction, the explosions also lowered the morale of the enemy substantially. All but the mighty Stoßwehr wilted in the face of this overwhelming destruction, and even the Stoßwehr were pushed back. The retreat of the enemy threatened to become a rout with the constant pressure of the Bavarian numbers.



*WBT stands for Wheeled Battle Tank
*MBT stands for Main Battle Tank

Last edited by Luxembourg-Bavaria on Thu Sep 26, 2019 11:33 am, edited 1 time in total.
Bavarian troops have re-deployed at Roappe to continue the defense of the Free French State!

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Akordania
Secretary
 
Posts: 36
Founded: Sep 12, 2019
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Akordania » Thu Sep 26, 2019 5:52 pm


COLDITZ COUNTRYSIDE
CAPILEAN REICH

In what was now seemingly commonplace, a wave of hulking, coral green aircraft flanked by smaller jets glided lazily through the skies above the countryside. One by one, the massive Ilyushin Il-76s descended upon a dirt runway, their landing gear colliding with the dirt in a violent storm of gravel and dust. In spite of the less than ideal landing, the Il-76s had proven their resilience time and time again in the Eastern warzones in Akordania. While many aircraft of that weight class would simply be unable to muster a landing without losing their landing gear entirely, the Ilyushins were built particularly tough, and additionally boasted far more wheels than most airframes...allowing the weight of the landing to be spread over a greater surface area. The process went on for some time as each transport landed and coasted off the runway, while the formation above cut a tight circle around the target, under the protection of Su-30 fighters.

On the ground, soldiers of the 5th and 12th Motorized Rifle Division ran back and forth under the weight of their rucksacks, dumping them in rows alongside their assigned vehicles and reporting to their immediate NCO. T-72s, BMPs, BTRS, howitzers and Tunguskas were rolled down the ramps of the final few aircraft, flying the Akordanian flag alongside the infamous Lieutenant General Krovoposkov's personal standard, the so-called "Black Flag". It took little time before each battalion was formed, raising their individual guide-ons in preparation for march. A BMP rolled into the center of the clearing as the last of the Il-76s disappeared into the clouds. The hatch flew open, and out came Krovoposkov himself. He gazed over the thousands of men gathered in the field, nodding to himself.

"Now I know few of you will even hear this, and that's just fine, I'm no speechmaker. My talent is killing the enemy. Leave the oration and the fanfare to the politicians. I'll handle what matters. I've been asked to oversee this operation personally in the hopes that we can, at the very least, aid the Capilean Reich in completing its current objectives and merely maintain our new territory against enemy encroachment. Any one of our generals can do that however. What I'm really here for is to absolutely break their will. Nothing is off limits to me. If that doesn't sit right with you, by all means, strip off your uniform and go join those utopian limp-wristed pansies in Gravines. That's all for now." Krovoposkov rendered the Akordanian salute, pounding his clenched right fist to his chest as if envisioning the enemy at the receiving end of it.

"Glory to Akordania."

The troops closest to the General broke out in unison.

"GLORY TO THE HEROES!"

"Let's get a move on then."

The majority of the march was conducted during the day as they traversed friendly territory. Utilizing 8-digit grid maps and GPS, the massive formation typically halted solely for refueling at Reich installations. By the time they arrived on the battlefield, it would undoubtedly be nightfall. They traveled as separate Battalion Tactical Groups, maintaining half an hour's distance. 60 kilometers ahead of the first BTG, a light reconnaissance detachment probed the roads, followed by a security element 15 minutes behind. Support and rear security elements crawled behind the host, while armor was deployed intermittently along the flanks. As time went on, the column was ordered to push through their original first stop, Nordlingen; under Krovoposkov's personal orders, they would stop at Wolfcour solely for refueling purposes. He wouldn't give the enemy any more time than they were already spared. The siege at Gravines could and would be successful, and with his talent in brutality, would occur in no time at all.
☦ A K O R D A N I A ☦
A struggling post-Soviet dictatorship marred by sectarian violence between the ultranationalistic Eastern Orthodox majority and the Muslim population. Inspired by Romania during its era as the National Legionary State. Also known for its harsh weather, rugged populace, and alcoholism.
Capital: Veroykne
Currency: Veksel
Leader: President Sergei Yukashenko
Population: 9 Million
Exports: Heavy machinery, gasoline, diesel, dairy products
Military: 180,000
Army - 90,000
Air Force - 78,000
Internal Troops - 12,000

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New Decius
Senator
 
Posts: 3574
Founded: Jul 24, 2014
Democratic Socialists

Postby New Decius » Thu Sep 26, 2019 9:07 pm

SMS Alfred von Tirpitz, 3rd Battle Squadron, Hochseeflotte
Northern Indian Ocean
Naval Operation Poseidon

Großadmiral Hermann Horst had breathed easy once his four squadrons had cleared the narrow confines of the Red Sea and entered the Arabian Gulf where they had been met by Italian patrol craft assuring him that the whole Gulf was covered and secure. His nerves had once again begun to itch as the Hochseeflotte entered the Northern Indian Ocean and also came in range of the airbases in the Northern territory of Nemetz little excuse for a ‘Reich’.

“A Reich! As if.” He scoffed from the observation deck alongside the bridge of his mighty battleship. “As if that tinpot little street thug knows a single thing about running a proper empire!”

His ADC, Konteradmiral Manfred Rüthe looked at the Großadmiral oddly for a moment before catching on to his train of thought. He too bore an incredulous look on his face as he tried to imagine a ‘Capilean Reich’. He kept coming too close to laughter to actually do so which brought a constant smile to his commander/old friend’s face. “True that brownshirt is trying to create his own Führerreich, wants to be just like Hitler when he grows up.” He burst out laughing.

Despite his heinous crimes, Hitler today was something of a joke in Germany, an incompetent moronic maniac who schemed his way to the top spot and bungled the whole thing from there by failing to subdue Britain, Russia, or the underground monarchists. That Nemetz seemed to want to recreate the Old Order of the New Order only made him the butt of many a joke in the German press who took great pleasure in comparing him to that failure of an artist and grand bumbling dictator that was Adolf Hitler.

“Yes, well he can’t seriously manage something as grand or noble as a Kaiserreich can he the pleb. For that he’s also need a Kaiser.” Now the Großadmiral was on the verge of laughing his head off. “Who could they get for that?! That little pissant Karl?! He’s practically a pseudo fascist himself, the only reason he’s really against them is they kidnapped his precious Austrian Princess. Or maybe that obscure Crown Prince? Hardly anyone’s even heard of him let alone actually formed an opinion about him. They certainly couldn’t crown Klaus!”

“Because of the ideological divide?”

“No.” Horst shook his head. “Because if Klaus jumped ship after all that Germany has invested in him militarily and financially, the Kaiser would knock his head off. Hell the Abwehr would blow it off within five minutes of his switch!”

Rüthe cocked an eyebrow at that, clearly the Großadmiral was only speaking so candidly because they were alone and in the middle of the ocean. Now he would be candid himself. “Do you mean to say Großadmiral, that the Abwehr has agents inside the Royalists government? Our trusted ally?”

Horst snorted. “Of course they do Manfred.” He gripped the bars of the railing hard enough until his knuckles turned white. “They also have agents inside every European government, but they especially had a spy ring setup inside the Capilean government. That country’s always been somewhat unstable and while the present and last three Kaiser’s have been insistent on an alliance with them, the Abwehr isn’t about to place such dubious bets without a card up their sleeve. Nemetz caught a fair amount of our boys in grey as it were when he launched his damn coup, strung them up from the lampposts as examples to other intelligence services.” He took off his cap and wiped some sweat from his brow. “I can tell you there were quite some heated exchanges when that happened. The Capilean Ambassador, despite the chaos erupting in his country, was demanding to know what unlisted German nationals were doing in Capile apparently on deep cover assignments, which the Foreign Office managed to pass off as Regional Intelligence Officers attached to our consulates and the Embassy. The Marschall der Abwehr was screaming for retribution for his ‘murdered’ spies, Hell he wanted Regensburg to tell the Kaiser to press the nuclear trigger, that killing the spies constituted an act of war. We all know how it turned out though.”

The Großadmiral had however avoided revealing the extreme top security information that a secret operations group did in fact exist within the Royalist government and military. An undersecretary here, a junior staff officer there, a convincing typist somewhere else, dozens of well placed German agents stationed in Capile for years, some as many as three decades as part of a contingency strategy for a variety of scenario’s. The original intent had obviously been to paralyze the Capilean government and armed forces in the event of war between the Kaiserreich and the Grand Duchy; this was followed after the alliance, by such plans as the evacuation of the Royal Family in the event of a Communist takeover, infiltration of extremist groups which might pose a threat to the Kaiserreich, financial and military espionage, and also several operations which even a Großadmiral was not cleared to know about.

At that moment a Leutnant from the Signals Section came running over, report in hand. “Großadmiral! We’re tracking what appears to be an unidentified fleet formation approximately one hundred miles off Gravines. If we change course we could intercept within two hours.”

Horst glared at the man who dared suggest they deviate from his set strategy. The plan was to make for Rochefort and take port from when they would establish blockade position and cut off what little was left of mercantile shipping going into VF territory. What with recent fascist victories some international corporations had actually begun to resume business with Nemetz government; hopefully being turned back or sunk or shot out of the sky by the Kaiserliche Marine would help put a stop to that. “Leutnant what were my orders when we set out?”

The young man looked rather sheepish. “That we were to proceed to Rochefort and establish our orders from there.”

“So where are we going?”

“To Rochefort then Herr Großadmiral.”




Battle of Stammburg
Operation Faust: Stage Four/ Operation Ludwig
Grand Duchy of Nova Capile

While Generalfeldmarschall Rommel’s forces were smashing Feldmarschall Krebs forces to pieces at the frontlines, Rommel had ordered Operation Ludwig put into action which now had two fully equipped KSK SOG’s en route to Stammburg while a strategic bomber was presently coming to drop the prototype EMP on the city. The two Fe-311 high speed stealth helicopters were speeding across the countryside likely terrifying some farmers as ‘something’ sped across their property in the middle of the night frightening cows and other such animals.

Major Sara Brücke checked the magazine on her G36C as the rest of her ten operative team also checked their weapons and equipment. Unlike the Kaiserliche Armee, the KSK took in women, colonial’s, youth’s, if you could pass their examinations and fit their criteria they would take you. However, when a Kommando Spezialkrafte operation was underway, all Kaiserliche Armee troops were to render every service to KSK officers, well save those Armee officers of staff rank or those troops assigned to staff command; it was rather a shock for an Oberst in the Kaiserliche Armee to have an Askari Hauptmann in the KSK giving him orders but he must obey. While some in the Kaiserliche Armee might resent the privileges that the Abwehr took in riding roughshod over regular army operations, they absolutely despised the KSK being able to effectively steal whole regiments for their operations; the KSK was nominally under the command of the OHL but effectively acted under its own orders due to Generalfeldmarschall Hermann Reuter (CinC of the KSK)’s close friendship with the Reichskanzler and allies in the Court.

The operation was fairly simple in planning; once the EMP had disabled the majority of Stammburg, the helicopters would be able to penetrate the inner city itself allowing the SOG’s to deploy right in the heart of Stammburg. They would proceed to the Party Headquarters and capture the VF Party Leadership in the city, however best intelligence only put Krebs and his senior officers being there at fifty percent, there was a good chance they were in the field with their troops.

“Alright boys this isn’t like Somalia where we could just put a bullet in our targets heads. The Abwehr wants these big shots alive, likely for a good session at the Falklands Facility to drain whatever they’ve got in their heads.” Sara then let out a dry chuckle. “More likely the boys in grey just want some revenge for Nemetz stringing their agents up from lamp posts.” The chopper broke out in a burst of laughter as they all imagined pompous fascist politicians in the Abwehr’s nefarious vengeful hands. Based on the talk, the Marschall der Abwehr wanted to do some very interesting things to Nemetz should he get his hands on him.

While Germany was a lawful nation which obeyed the Geneva Convention, over the years it had become necessary to have a center for intelligence gathering and interrogation that was ‘outside’ the law, especially with Islamic radicals in the Middle East, Cossack extremists in the Don-Kuban, and Fascist and Socialist radicals all over the place. So when the Falkland Islands became a German Protectorate in 1997, several underground bases were setup for the Abwehr’s explicit use, not that the Reichstag knew anything about it, it all came out of funds seized from the USSR when it fell in the Romanov Restoration. Quite a few people had made out a tidy profit during that conflict. The Falklands Facility was the Abwehr equivalent to America’s Guantanamo Bay, only nobody properly knew what went on in the Falklands whereas Guantanamo was fairly well known about.

Sara looked down at her watch to check how long they had before the EMP-prototype was dropped. It was crucial that they not get to Stammburg too quickly else they get caught in the strike zone and their helicopters be disabled and crash. It wouldn’t do to have the Special Operations Groups killed in fiery wrecks before they could get their mission underway.

“Alright the drop is in twenty minutes and we’re about half an hour out from Stammburg.” Hauptmann Zander Murat on the other helicopter was listening in on his comlink set built into their helmets. “According to the boys at KTI it should take them definitely an hour maybe two to reboot basic defense systems, standard civilian systems are likely to be affected for longer. Their not as protected against such an attack as military systems are.” Sara brought up a holographic map being projected from her gauntlet showing their landing zone. An intersection three blocks from the Party Headquarters. “I want arrival at target within seven minutes and I want it secured within thirty, though I’d prefer twenty. Our best intel says that most of what’s left in Stammburg for soldiers are young boys just called up or old men recalled to service, all the best troops are being smashed to pieces by Rommel right now. However there are likely to at least be capable guards at the Party Offices if nothing else though when I say capable I mean that at the very least their professional soldiers.”

They were approaching the city limits now, flying low to avoid detection though the 311 was designed with a stealth system equipped as it was built specifically for KSK operations; then again it was doubtful the fascists had much left in the way of ammunition for their air defenses even if they did have the launchers and vehicles, based on how Rommel’s squadrons ruled the skies and pummeled the ground with impunity. As they were coming in there was a flash from up ahead in the city followed by a loud bang that they could hear even from this distance, after which while blocks of Stammburg went dark from loss of power. Now was the moment to strike.

“Alright boys and girls lets go! We have clearance to eliminate any target who gets in our way till we hit the Party Offices! Safety’s off!”

Then they were hitting the pavement as the twenty KSK operatives disembarked the helicopters with well-practiced ease and speed, the aircraft quickly rising back into the sky and racing away once their cargo was unloaded. A man in a police uniform was rounding the corner of a nearby building and called out towards them, only to be struck down by a silenced round to the skull, crumpling to the ground without a sound. Sara turned to Hauptmann Murat and raised three fingers indicating for him to take his SOG Bertha down a side alley leading towards the Party Office’s while her SOG Dora took the more direct route. This was a precaution in the event the Stoßwehr was able to mobilize a response faster than expected and realized the Party Office’s a target of interest; if Stoßwehr reinforcements arrived at the Party Offices after SOG Dora arrived on site then Bertha would be able to hit the enemy outside in the flanks, and even if they didn’t send reinforcements then both SOG’s would still have more than enough firepower to take the Party Office’s.

For now it seemed all was going according to plan.
Proud advocate that Europe stands stronger together than divided. The EU may be flawed in some areas but the idea of a united Europa can only bring good fortune to Europe and the world. For more than two thousand years, Europe was home to conflicts inspired by coveting one another's territory and resources, even making the continent the home to some of the world's most destructive and costly conflicts. But the idea was all wrong in their minds. Their idea was to bring this territory or that under their flag and spread influence on the continent. The idea they should all have been thinking was that the goal should be to bring the continent under one unified flag.

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New United States of Columbia
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Founded: Jul 17, 2015
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Postby New United States of Columbia » Fri Sep 27, 2019 10:20 pm

H.E.S. HANS WILHELM VII
NOVA CAPILE



“Fascism should more appropriately be called Corporatism because it is a merger of state and corporate power”
― Benito Mussolini



The deal having been agreed upon, the NCRC had gotten to work. Helicopters began to be loaded with operators who’d be flown into whatever lands were still loyal to the Fatherland Front to begin training future Special Forces or to be immediately put to work in unconventional warfare. The men, loaded down with body armor, weapons, ammo, gear, and other supplies, were happy to be off the floating tin can. One of them remarked that, for once, he’d be happy to get shot at compared to the tedium and boredom of being on the Wilhelm. Once the helicopters had taken off, the fighters, ground attack aircraft, and gunships were being prepared for service.

For his part, Hancock had begun examing the maps of Capile, seeing where his ship would hook up with one of the Fatherland’s battleships where they’d be put to use as a terror of the seas. He smiled as he thought about it. His newfound allies would be of great use to him as he would be for them.

H.E.S. MATTHEW PERRY
SÜDOFF, NOVA CAPILE



“Warriors deal with death. They take life away from others. This is normally the role of God. Asking young warriors to take on that role without adequate psychologial and spiritual preparation can lead to damaging consequences.
-Karl Marlantes, What It Is Like To Go To War



Captain Kennedy saw the grey waters and clouds covering up the city. It’s ports were full of civilians and soldiers who seemed happy that the relief fleet had finally arrived. The three supply ships, two hospital ships, three destroyers, and carrier would provide, admittedly, not much help. But, the Captain figured, it’d be enough to escort supplies, especially much needed medicine, food, fuel, and ammo. Turning, he saw the reverese ‘v’ shaped arrangement of the fleet, the carrier in the rear with the destroyers in the front. The supply and hospital ships were further back, vulnerable to a sneak attack by subs, but there wasn’t much naval combat going on. So Kennedy heard, anyway.

Turning, he began to join the rest of the crew of the Perry as they finally disembarked. Months of travel were finally over and they could stretch their legs for a bit before work resumed. Looking at one of the supply ships, the Captain watched as cranes unloaded vehicles and large cargo containers that would be bulging with goods. Several Marines kept armed guard as they assisted the Capileans and others in unloading and soon transporting the goods. After heading towards the city, he found what looked to be the foreman of the dock. Kennedy strode over to him and held out his hand.
“We can finally fulfil our promise,” Kennedy greeted happily “you scratched our backs in the Division, we scratch yours here and now."
Last edited by New United States of Columbia on Fri Sep 27, 2019 10:22 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Akordania
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Postby Akordania » Sat Sep 28, 2019 2:20 am


GRAVINES
FRENCH FREE STATE

The road leading to Gravines was a sight to behold.

The sky was blackened above the city; jets screaming back and forth in a vicious stalemate, under heavy fire by anti-aircraft on both sides. Gunfire thundered relentlessly, and much of the outskirts were utterly leveled. What was undoubtedly once a beautiful coastal city was now little more than a blood-drenched ruin. Krovoposkov would add the finishing touches. The army under General Falk was clearly more than capable of maintaining the pressure at the original contact point with the Bavarians. Intelligence indicated that the original host, Army Group Werner, was sent to the rear after the worst of the initial engagement; leaving Army Group Krüger to contend against the Reich counter-offensive on its own. The French garrisons charged with the defense of Gravines were battered and critically manned, having been sent to rout early on in the battle. Additionally, with their lack of proper fortifications at the edge of the city, the Bavarians would simply be unable to endure a prolonged siege. By all reports, the Bavarians were at the edge of the cliff. All they needed was just a little push...no, a tap- and they would go spiraling downward into the abyss, Krovoposkov thought. The renewed Akordanian offensive did not begin with shelling. Farther along the lines, in uncontested and quiet areas, mortar rounds exploded in mid-air above Bavarian positions. The usual searing hot shrapnel was replaced by hundreds of leaflets, all of which was written in their native tongue. The leaflets pleaded with the Bavarians to surrender; citing their perilous situation and the fact that the defense of Gravines was no longer a joint effort. Rather, the Bavarians were to fight and die in a foreign land for no reason other than enabling the fattening of their own leaders' pockets alongside the senile Premier Charleroi. Furthermore, the Akordanians promised fair treatment, food, and clean water to any individual soldier who would put down their arms and simply cross over into enemy lines. The leaflets concluded with one final, ominous statement: "You can leave this strange place on your own two feet, or in a coffin."

In an effort to hammer home the Akordanians' attempt to sew dissent, massive speakers were loaded into the back of Kamaz trucks and driven along the threshold of enemy killzones, blaring Akordanian ultranationalist folk music; partly to crush morale, and partly to drown out the movement of Akordanian forces into staging areas for assault. Brigades of the 5th Motorized Rifles took up offensive postures beside one another West of the contact zone. East of the aforementioned zone, the three brigades under the 12th Motorized Rifles similarly positioned themselves successively down the enemy line. At exactly 0100 that morning, all six Brigade Artillery Groups initiated shelling on their respective objectives. On the ground, Bavarian troops scrambled frantically for cover as shells impacted in and around their makeshift fortifications. Machine gun nests dotting the lines exploded in a fiery shower of shrapnel as their ammo stores were blown, killing an appalling number of men in mere minutes. After fifteen minutes straight of ceaseless shelling, tank companies held weight on the left and right flanks of each advance, their respective infantry battalions in tow. At the farthest reaches of each flank, Tunguska SPAAG platoons scoured the skies for approaching aircraft. As the Akordanian host finally came into view, those Bavarians who had managed to recover from the onslaught opened fire. Tank crewmen ran for their surviving vehicles but few made it as they were cut down by concentrated fire from advancing soldiers.

Down the line, the result was the same. While unquestionably tough, the exhausted Army Group Krüger was simply overwhelmed with the vastly superior tempo of fire from Reich forces. The line not only bent, but broke entirely in some areas. Akordanian infantrymen jogged through the smoking remains of artillery and machine gun positions, paying no mind to the wounded writhing about in the dirt. Crawling behind them were staggered lines of BMPs and BTRs, scanning the ruins for any remaining resistance. The furthest ends of the lines were slowly folded up, with a sizable amount of enemy wounded being taken as POWs. Even still, the very core of Krüger stood in defiance of the "Black Flag". Approximately 1600 meters east and west from the initial contact zone, retreating Bavarian troops took a final stand in the ruins, forming a half circle. The beginnings of a fatal funnel were unintentionally achieved for General Krovoposkov, to his delight. Though there stood one problem: the enemy simply weren't moving back any further.

On the ground, Bavarian troops dug in against hailstorms of small arms fire from every direction; returning it in fatal and precise salvos. Facing one another and risking friendly fire, Akordanian heavy armor was forced to withdraw. Several T-72s were disabled in the chaos as the enemy tore apart their tracks with recoilless rifles and grenade launchers; the shrapnel cutting through swathes of advancing Akordanians like a boomerang. Rather than continue to feed a slaughter, the infantry pulled back a few hundred meters behind the safety of their IFVs. Machine guns chattered tirelessly from their turrets, shredding the formations ahead and finally regaining fire superiority from the enemy's grip. Though the Akordanians could indeed advance into them, it would risk a hideous, prolonged melee. The most optimistic stance the Bavarians could have for the duration of the battle was simply the prospect of a covered retreat. The only other option was to stay and ultimately be wiped out entirely. Krovoposkov curiously awaited their last decisive move.
Last edited by Akordania on Sat Sep 28, 2019 4:05 am, edited 3 times in total.
☦ A K O R D A N I A ☦
A struggling post-Soviet dictatorship marred by sectarian violence between the ultranationalistic Eastern Orthodox majority and the Muslim population. Inspired by Romania during its era as the National Legionary State. Also known for its harsh weather, rugged populace, and alcoholism.
Capital: Veroykne
Currency: Veksel
Leader: President Sergei Yukashenko
Population: 9 Million
Exports: Heavy machinery, gasoline, diesel, dairy products
Military: 180,000
Army - 90,000
Air Force - 78,000
Internal Troops - 12,000

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The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile
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Postby The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile » Sat Sep 28, 2019 10:31 am


GRAVINES
FRENCH FREE STATE


Like lambs to the slaughter,” General Werner Falk remarked, lowering his binoculars slowly. He had grown tired of watching the Bavarian troops rush back to the same cratered positions, only to be slaughtered by the Stoßwehr and then replaced by more of their comrades, in an endless cycle. Of course, the Reich was losing men, too. Countless gray-uniformed corpses littered the roads leading to Gravines– but they were no doubt outnumbered by the droves of fallen Frenchmen and Bavarians.

“It appears that the enemy is unwilling to yield, even at the price of assured destruction.” Falk stood on a small, grassy knoll, which had been largely untouched by the enemy’s cruise missile bombardment. All around the hillock were devastated mounds of thrown-up earth. The Bavarian missiles had managed to inflict minor damage on some logistical and rear-guard elements of Falk’s army, but the Stoßwehr had not faltered. Its assault and armor units were already well-committed to the fight.

Falk looked upward, gray eyes resting upon a flight of planes dashing toward the battle. They were marked with the characteristic Raven, but he also noticed smaller unit insignia different from that which the other allied planes bore. A smile crossed his angular face.

“Ah, so our air replacements have arrived.” After about a day’s rest and recuperation, the pilots which had so harmed the Bavarian fleet were ordered to recommit to the air war over Gravines, while the airmen who took the brunt of the fighting were granted their own break. Now the changing of the guard was finally taking place, and Falk’s smile became toothier as wing after wing of fresh fighters charged overhead.

“Indeed they have, sir,” a voice called from behind the general, “and I bring other news, as well.” Falk turned to face his aide, a Major Ian Bohen. The young man was a Columbian whom Falk had personally recruited during the Second Great Division, when he had only been a colonel himself. Bohen had proven himself in that conflict, and had stuck with the Stoßwehr like a loyal hound ever since. He had never quite lost his American accent, however.

“General Worgen sent news that he has broken through further north,” Bohen announced. “He exploited a place in the enemy’s line which was defended by only the frog-eaters, and broke through with his armor. He said that he’s fast descending on the northern quarters of Gravines. Meanwhile, his other men are already beginning to encircle the French forces.”

“Excellent,” Falk said after a pause. “Now the enemy will have to defend more than just this line.”
He hadn’t thought his smile could get wider.

SÜDHOOF
NOVA CAPILE


A small crowd had gathered to watch the Columbians dock. It was noticeably devoid of young men. Those that hadn’t been drafted in the past few days on Winser’s orders were hard at work in factories and warehouses.

Instead, a collection of curious children, well-to-do women, and whisker-scratching old men greeted them. Many of the latter extraction had fought in Columbia in some war or another, and regarded the Columbians with cold, scornful eyes as they descended from the gangplanks.

The Columbian officers were greeted by a cheerful young lieutenant colonel who directed them to reform outside of the city before marching to Poldorf, where they could rendezvous with Winser and the rest of the allied high command.

The rest of the Capileans were not so welcoming. The older men spat tobacco onto the ground the soldiers were about to walk, rubbing the stumps of amputated limbs, their mementos from one of the Great Divisions.

The general consensus seemed to be that the Columbians had come too late.

KONGSBURG
SOCIALIST CAPILE


Kongsburg was a productive city.

Factories and workshops billowed steam, male and female workers trooped purposively toward their workplaces, and buses deposited their passengers at every stop as if they were on an assembly line.

And yet, as Wu Jingyi strolled through Kongsburg, he detected another aura. There was smoke of worry and hunger that fogged glass and emerged in puffs whenever one exhaled.

He passed breadlines that snaked around corners, the elderly, young mothers, and adolescents collecting their weekly rations. He often passed uniformed sentries, who seemed jovial but whose eyes were ready for action.

Despite the obstacles they had met, the people of Kongsburg still seemed determined to erect their dream. The people knew hunger, and they understood that it was not a fault of their new government, but a challenge to be overcome, a sacrifice that had to be made.

Jingyi approached the Party Headquarters. It was a sleek, modern building that was busy with activity. The Chinese official was shown in, and met with some curious stares by the young Party men and women bustling about. Even here, real diversity was rare.

He was informed that the Socialist Council of the Revolution was currently in session, and that it would be most glad to meet with him. Jingyi was shown through corridors and elevators until he reached the doors of an immense chamber.
The doors swung open to reveal a circular room, the seats filled with minor officials, officers, and interested citizens of all sorts, observers and occasional contributors to the decisions of the Revolution. In the center of the room was a raised platform, behind which the Council sat. Behind them was a third section, another raised pew where those lieutenants and ministers of the Party above the rank-and-file, but not important enough to warrant a place on the Council, resided.
The room grew quiet, and a big, wide-shouldered man in the very center of the Council table spoke.

“Comrade Ambassador Jingyi,” Terry Blücher boomed, “on behalf of our glorious Revolution, I welcome you to its epicenter.”

STAMMBURG
CAPILEAN REICH


Johann Krebs replaced the fountain pen on his desk with a steady hand.

His eyes reviewed the letter of resignation he had just penned, carefully tracing each smoothly-written character. The letter reminded him in frank but eloquent terms that he had failed his Reich, his Reichsleiter, and most importantly his Volk. It spoke of duty and honor, characteristics which must be carried beyond one’s rank and to one’s death.

To that end, the letter commanded, Johann Krebs would commit suicide immediately after signing. The letter addressed itself to his wife and his son, even now fighting on the frontline at Gravines. The letter addressed itself to Walther Nemetz, who had ordered it to be written. The letter addressed itself to the Capilean people, who demanded that it be fulfilled.

Krebs picked up the pen and signed the letter in a single motion, so that they would all be satisfied. He remembered his final task, that which would finally satiate them, and he opened the drawer of his desk.
With a steady hand, he picked out a slender pistol and raised it to his temple.

He thought of Walther Nemetz; he cut short the thought with a measured twitch of his finger.


“General Scherk, I am placing you in command of the defense of Stammburg,” Walther Nemetz said to the portly, red-faced brute on the other end of the screen, “and of Heeresgruppe Süd.”

Scherk did not inquire as to the fate of Field Marshal Krebs. He could assume, and the assumption filled him with glee.

“You have already done an admirable job preparing Stammburg for the battle. Now you know what you must do. Resist the enemy at all-”

Julius Scherk was thrown into darkness, and the commanding voice of his leader was jerked away. Fumbling for a minute in the pitch black, the man found a flashlight and used it to illuminate his journey out from the office and into the corridor.

He found a half-dozen other officers, all with the same puzzled expression.

“Get the power back up, God-damn-it!” Scherk thundered. Men rushed to fulfill his orders. Scherk caught one of them by the shoulder.

“Cancel Operation Jömungand,” he instructed. “Order all of our forces to report back to Stammburg, immediately. We will defend this city for the next thousand years, if it is necessary.”
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✠ The Grand Duchy of Nova Capile ✠
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I hate Communism and Capitalism equally
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Luxembourg-Bavaria
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Luxembourg-Bavaria » Mon Sep 30, 2019 9:59 am

Gravines
Free French State





General Werner watched as his men loaded into the Bavarian ships in the port. He picked up his radio to send a transmission to the French generals.

"My allies, the situation at Gravines is too grave to overcome. Slowly, but surely, we will be withdrawing our troops from the frontline and moving out to sea. Our troops will be landing at Roappe to continue the fight, but I will not waste Bavarian soldiers in a fight we cannot hope to win. Werner out."

As he spoke, he saw a Bavarian air wing soar over the city, blanketing an area just outside the entrance to Gravines. He sighed as a fighter was brought down by an AA gun, trailing smoke as it went down.

He frowned. These meaningless losses were why the Franco-Bavarian forces were in such an untenable position at Gravines, to begin with. They had fought masterfully when combined but on their own, the French suffered greatly. This would have to change.

As the final Bavarian bombs fell on Fascist forces, Werner's thoughts were interrupted by an aide carrying a headset.

"Sir, urgent communication from Munich!"

Werner hurriedly put the headset on.

"Werner here."

"General Werner, the Chancellor would like to inform you that the deployment of another army group to Nova Capile has been authorized and will be sent soon, in addition to another naval group."

"That is very good news. I assume this is because of the retreat at Gravines?"

"Yes."

"May I ask which army group will be sent?"

"Army Group Leimann is currently mobilizing."

"Good. Werner out."

He handed the headset back to his aide, who saluted before leaving to board a ship.

This changes everything, he thought. Army Group Leimann was a seasoned battlegroup, full of veterans that had seen many a conflict. Their skill and expertise would do wonders in drilling the French partisans into an effective fighting force.

Werner slowly pivoted around and began walking up the ramp of the Pride of Bavaria*. He watched as the ramp was retracted and the fleet set out for Roappe.

As the city grew further and further away, Werner muttered a promise.

"We will be back."


*One of two Bavarian aircraft carriers

Last edited by Luxembourg-Bavaria on Mon Sep 30, 2019 10:02 am, edited 1 time in total.
Bavarian troops have re-deployed at Roappe to continue the defense of the Free French State!

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New Decius
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Founded: Jul 24, 2014
Democratic Socialists

Postby New Decius » Mon Sep 30, 2019 11:56 pm

Battle of Stammburg
Operation Faust: Stage Four/ Operation Ludwig
Grand Duchy of Nova Capile

Sara peeked around the corner of the wall she was behind at the Party Offices which stood across the street; there were a number of guards outside in varying states of panic and condition. The more experienced men of which there were very few were calmly surveying their surroundings, obviously expecting an attack, while their older colleagues who made up a moderate portion of the group were a mixture of readiness and panic. The younger conscripts, the youngest of whom looked like he could be fourteen, were in total panic mode running around trying to figure out what the hell was going on. If she were a less serious person and not on a mission, Sara might have laughed at the sight.

Turning back to her SOG she raised up two fingers for the benefit of the five squads of two spread out across the alley; four would go up the center, two on either flank, and then a machine gunner and sniper covering the outside from the third floor balcony of the building against which Sara leaned. After a few seconds those fingers turned into a fist and the attack began.

It opened with the machine gunner (Obergefreiter Luna Hannebrüch) firing a few bursts into the group of guards milling about outside, sending the veterans instinctively diving for cover but catching a few of the less seasoned or older men. It was extremely clear just how unprepared the young conscripts were by how the terrified boys threw down their weapons and dove for cover tears flowing from their eyes. Had they been in the German Armed Forces that would be a firing squad offense, cowardice in the face of the enemy was considered one of the greatest crimes a German soldier could commit in the world. However these were but teenage boys plucked from their homes inside Stammburg or from the towns outside of it, handed a gun and ordered to march off and defend their nation; even the best of the batch of conscripts had already been chewed up by Heeresgruppe Beowulf leaving the boys that were less fit for frontline combat behind as a reserve in training.

Sara moved with her men up the center, firing as she moved and bringing down two older veterans who had admirably brought up their weapons fairly quickly though not quickly enough to save them from her own. “Move up! Bring them down!” The machine gun chattered from the balcony while the sniper rifle barked loudly into the night, all the while a cacophony of assault rifles conducted an orchestra of bullets across the square. Someone tossed a grenade behind the makeshift barricades the experienced Stoßwehr guards had erected and they were blown to smithereens, though one did survive long enough to scream bloody murder into the night before going into shock.

It was far from a fair fight.

At last there was only one sniveling young boy left among the guards as he leaned against a lamppost tears flowing down his face and blood dripping from a cut on his forehead. Sara knelt down and adopted an almost motherly expression of care and concern, reaching a hand out to stroke his face. He seemed to be no older than sixteen and absolutely terrified out of his mind about the events which had transpired in the past seven minutes.

“Hey there Honey I’m sorry about all the noise but there was no choice. But you still have a chance, do you want to live?”

He nodded his head vigorously.

“Okay well you just have to answer a question for me. You can do that can’t you?”

Another vigorous nod.

“Alright. Is Scherk inside?”

“Yes Yes Yes, He is! He’s Inside!”

Sara grinned and ruffled his hair. “Thanks Sweetie you’ve been a great help.”

She shot him in the head.

“Alright time to clean house. Remember Scherk is a COS (Capture On Sight), you can kill everyone else. Lets Go!”

And thus they stormed the building.




Hauptquartier der Abwehr
Berlin, Kingdom of Prussia, German Empire
Federation of European Monarchies

“Is this true Oberst Mehlen? I mean is it actually true?”

“Yes Herbert its true.”

“But I mean can they actually be serious about this?”

“Yes Herbert their quite serious about all this.”

“Are we sure that this is indeed what’s meant to happen?”

“Herbert if you ask me the same question again I’m glowing to put a bullet in your brain.”

“Apologies Oberst but this is quite a shock to be sure.”

“That it is.”

Oberst Rölf Mehlen and Hauptmann Herbert Löthe were on their way out of the Hauptquartier der Abwehr with the intent to catch the first military transport out of Tempelhof. A very special and certainly unorthodox order had just come down from the OHL to be distributed to German forces in Capile, well specifically to those under the command of Feldmarschll Franz Lütold von Sonnenschein whom were currently established near Südhoof.

Up until now, legally the Reichstag had ordered that the BSU’s civilian militia’s be categorized as civilian semi-combatants meaning they could be engaged in combat, with restrictions in order, but on capture would be treated as civilian non-combatants as opposed to POW’s. This would afford them more in the way of privileges such as rations and lodgings. However, somehow the Kaiserliche Marschall had utilized his influence, or perhaps bribery/blackmail, to sway enough Representatives to declare them as full field combatants classified as insurgents which technically allowed temporary disregard of the rules of war in special combat scenarios and gave the Abwehr authority over any prisoners taken from them. Of course there were far too many militiamen in the BSU’s forces for the Abwehr to take custody of all them, but there were still officers and other persons of significance within the militia’s whom could be taken into custody; that was where Rölf Mehlen came into the picture.

A ‘special detention center’ (Read Blacksite) was to be setup within Feldmarschall von Sonnenschein’s authority for the detention and interrogation of Communist officers and officials captured by the Kaiserliche Armee, and Oberst Mehlen was to be in command at this center. Though of course ‘all’ Capilean citizens would be returned to the custody of the Grand Ducal government in due course, well all the runts and grunts would be transferred to them while the delivery of officers and officials would be ‘unfortunately delayed’ until after the Abwehr had had its chance at them. In this way, the Abwehr didn’t have to go to the trouble of transporting prisoners halfway around the world to the Falkland Islands for enhanced interrogation and could just waterboard the bastards in Capile.

Previously Rölf had been denied a field command ever since he was found to have used enhanced interrogation methods on Vietnamese partisans against the rules of war and he had been straddled to a desk for the past four years. Now ironically he was getting a new field command because they needed his ‘unique’ skills put to use free of the Reichstag’s scrutiny and that of the Red Cross. Rölf would have several hundred deep-cover operatives, planted in Capile for years now, reporting to him and carrying out operations at his orders, alongside a consignment of personnel to actually run the facility. Presently the Feldmarschall’s Pioneers were constructing the facility near Poldorf and the Capilean Army was not exactly being told what they were building or really anything about Project Freya, after all they would surely pitch a fit about the Abwehr detaining Capilean citizens and utilizing torture to gain information from them. Tensions in the intelligence community were still tense after Nemetz strung up all those Abwehr agents revealing that Germany did have spies planted in its ‘closest’ ally, but right now the Grand Duchy needed Germany’s help too much to pitch a fit about any of it.
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Postby Akordania » Tue Oct 01, 2019 2:50 am


GRAVINES
FRENCH FREE STATE

The Bavarians at last drew back into the city under fire, to Krovoposkov's delight. The sectors entrusted to Akordanian troops were now entirely clear of any resistance, and with word of the Stoßwehr's advance, he too pressed his forces onward. Each Brigade Artillery Group held their positions, awaiting any further orders as the remainder of the 5th and 12th Divisions persisted. Franco-Bavarian POWs were rounded up and corralled to the rear, being stripped of their equipment and divided into officers and enlisted. They were then shackled together with hobbles and sent off in Kamaz trucks to Wolfcour. Under the Black Flag, the Akordanians had finally seen some lasting momentum in the war. Gods willing, it would continue.

--

"Dimitri! 2 O'CLOCK!"

The young soldier gasped and ducked as a rocket shot from a second-story window and crashed into the street behind him. He scrambled to cover behind a crashed car, shouldering his AK-74 and answering the assailant with several bursts. The rounds tore through the shutters with ease, sending the enemy soldier stumbling out of sight in a shower of red mist. Turning his attention to the avenue up ahead, French reservists and police engaged in a half-hearted defense against his squad. The exchange went on for a matter of seconds before the squad's supporting BTR pushed past them, blanketing the area with machine gun fire. Men cried out and fell out of cover into the street, riddled with bullets. Dimitri got to his feet, switching his Kalashnikov to semi and squeezing off concentrated shots as he advanced slowly. His spirit broken, a reservist stood to run before catching four rounds in the back, sending him flat on his face.

"TO THE END OF THE STREET! TO THE END! LET'S GO!" Barked an NCO as the squad carefully trotted forward, eyeing the surrounding buildings carefully.

At the end of the street sat a covered overpass; just under it, an alley that spilled out into the main drive. Just as the BTR's turret settled on the overpass, the barrel of a French machine gun jutted out from the center, tearing apart several troops at the helm of the advance. Dimitri cursed, firing round after round as he ran for solid cover. Seemingly out of nowhere, more irregulars poured out from the alleyway, blindly firing their submachine guns. The squad's Starshina ran to the front of the fight, smoke grenade in hand; hurling it in front of the enemy before ducking into an alleyway. The machine gun nest soon began belting out rounds after him. Seizing the moment, Dimitri lay prone and crawled out from behind cover, firing up an opening. The gunner let out a wail before falling limp against his weapon, pushing it over the edge and sending himself down along with it.

The BTR resumed its fire upon the enemy troops up ahead, butchering those who stood exposed. As the smoke cleared, Dimitri and his squadmates made a final push, picking off more combatants as they moved. As they cleared the threat completely, an old man burst out of an abandoned cafe, wielding a bolt-action rifle. The entirety of the squad fired upon him, sending his gored corpse fumbling to the dirt. The Starshina hurled obscenities at the remains of the old man before carrying on into the alley- the squad now in tow. Meeting their comrades on the other end, they would consolidate their efforts to seize the city house by house, block by block.
Last edited by Akordania on Tue Oct 01, 2019 3:46 pm, edited 2 times in total.
☦ A K O R D A N I A ☦
A struggling post-Soviet dictatorship marred by sectarian violence between the ultranationalistic Eastern Orthodox majority and the Muslim population. Inspired by Romania during its era as the National Legionary State. Also known for its harsh weather, rugged populace, and alcoholism.
Capital: Veroykne
Currency: Veksel
Leader: President Sergei Yukashenko
Population: 9 Million
Exports: Heavy machinery, gasoline, diesel, dairy products
Military: 180,000
Army - 90,000
Air Force - 78,000
Internal Troops - 12,000

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The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile
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Postby The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile » Tue Oct 01, 2019 8:23 pm


GRAVINES
FRENCH FREE STATE


As the sun rose above the frigid waters of Gravines’ harbor, the last of the Bavarian vessels escaped from view.

The city, the epicenter of the French Capilean culture and resistance, fell largely intact. Marshal Galland ordered all French troops to evacuate toward Roappe shortly after the Bavarians fell back. Without the Bavarians to anchor their line, the French were driven back like a herd of frightened sheep.

Their shepherd, the vengeful Stoßwehr, marched through the city like Roman conquerors, but their triumph was observed by a weary and wild-eyed populace. A few shots even rang out as old veterans attempted to defend their homes to the last; they were quickly silenced.

The military occupation of Gravines was swift and blunt. Curfews were enforced, local officials who had not fled were rounded up, and tall sentries were posted on every boulevard.

Walther Nemetz personally delivered an explosive oratory over the radio the day after Gravines’ capture, proclaiming it to be a great victory of the new Reich and a testament to its unstoppable armies.
He did not mention the deteriorating situation at Stammburg.

The Reich moved into its new holding almost immediately. Raven fighters filled the airfields and gray-clad laborers thronged the shipyards, which were of great import for Nemetz. He ordered the completion of the various battleship hulls which had been captured, and the incorporation of the French fleet into the Reich’s fledgling navy. Nemetz seemed to think little of the French, ordering General Falk to ignore them and instead turn toward the Royalists to the South.

For his part, the Reichsleiter eagerly trumpeted the success of the foreigners who had assisted Operation Muninn. In his radio broadcast, he praised the Akordanian fighting spirit, and announced that he would personally award their commanders with the Raven’s Cross, one of the Stoßwehr’s high honors, whilst the entire 3rd Special Airborne Guards Brigade would be decorated with the newly created Franc Medal, a campaign medal.

The pearl of the Capilean coast, Gravines, had been plundered by the Reich. But the fire of French independence had not been stamped out.
The Reich had only thrown fuel upon it.

STAMMBURG
CAPILEAN REICH


Caught by surprise, the perimeter defenses of the Party Offices had been obliterated by the expert German operatives.

As the Germans crept over the bullet-riddled bodies of their vanquished enemies, they jumped back at the sudden rattle of a machine gun.

A troop carrier whirled around the streetcorner at top speed, its top-mounted machine gun spraying leaden death at the Germans. Forced to scatter, the survivors watched as a small caravan of tanks and infantry fighting vehicles swerved to a halt in front of the squat Party Offices.

Doors swung open, and elite infantrymen poured out, fanning across the courtyard and shooting at anyone they saw. When the perimeter had been secured, a group of officers, surrounded by a phalanx of soldiers, rushed into the building, ducking as bullets zipped past them.
The soldiers outside formed a ring around the building, prepared to defend it with their lives.

Barging into the unlit foyer, General Jürgen Reudel walked purposively toward the stairway. Beside him was the flaxen-haired General Maximilan Wetter, whose baby-blue eyes and youthful face were etched with worry. A wall of stony-faced stormtroopers followed them; what few people had inhabited the reception scattered at the sight of them.

Ascending the stairway, Reudel passed office after office before coming to the top floor. Striding across the corridor, he paused before the door at its end: Scherk’s office.

The panzer general turned his head and raised his eyebrow at Wetter. Wetter nodded gravely.

Unholstering the pistol at his side, Jürgen kicked open the door and entered the office of the Gauleiter.

Scherk sat at his desk, meaty hands sewn together, thick mustache twitching as he spoke in conspiratorial tones to the two black-uniformed Stoßwehr officers sitting across from him. He looked up furiously at the interruption, and started to clamber to his feet.

Reudel strode across the room, raised his pistol, and shot Scherk once between the eyes.

The man squealed like a piglet and collapsed backward into his chair, bloodshot eyes rolling and large-lipped mouth foaming.

The two officers had jumped up and started to salute the two generals, but now stood with limp, outstretched arms, faces pale and twisted in terrified confusion.

The guard who stood a constant watch in the corner of the office never had a chance; a flurry of bullets from Reudel’s men tore him to pieces before he could shoulder his own weapon.

With a measured nod, Reudel sealed the fates of the two men before him, whose shocked expressions morphed into terror. They were cut down by a spray of lead, and fell convulsing over the broad desk.

It was over in seconds.

“Now that I am in full command,” Reudel said, glossing over the massacre, “we must clean out the rest of our house. Soldiers, scan the building. Not all must be executed, only those who resist. These-” he gestured to the two black uniforms, now trimmed in dark red- “I knew to be weasels, but many others must simply be arrested and then later cleared.”

The troopers dispersed, but one junior officer remained. “Sir, I just received a message from the men on the ground. They say that they have identified one of the hostiles we faced outside as a German operative, based on his equipment and weaponry.”

Reudel thought. “So a German special operation is in progress? How interesting. It should only be a few hours before our units begin reporting in from the frontline. Until then, we shall see what the Germans intend.”
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Postby Pan-Asiatic States » Wed Oct 02, 2019 3:09 am

KONGSBURG
SOCIALIST CAPILE


Jingyi's hand trembled before the mighty men who he stood before. Sweat poured out of his brow. He straightened his posture and gave the council a respectful bow, in the same manner he would have greeted a high-ranking official of the Pan-Asiatic States. Undoubtedly, he had every shred of respect for the Capilean revolutionists.

The ardent faces of the proletariats long-deprived of their dignity by Fascists and Monarchists told a thousand times over what any manifesto could; their eyes longed for a Socialist sun to rise from the East and set in the West. They had pulled themselves from the pyre of civil strife, yet, Jingyi wondered, for how long could they last with the Pan-Asiatic States' assistance?

Jingyi had changed out of his Westernized attire before his address to Kongsburg's executives. Now decorated by war-medals hanging firmly by his olive-colored Party-attire, he stood proudly before the leaders before him carrying the pride of the People's Federation. He was reinvigorated by his admiration for the Capilean people, the enduring struggle which dignified the stereotype which proliferated among the Asian Communist Party: that the Westernized peoples grew fat on the imperial concessions of their aristocratic caste and could never hunger for revolution. Here, the revolution truly was alive. A single spark had burned through Nova Capile's long history of prejudice, a flame which could be fanned into an inferno of prosperity and glory.

The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile wrote:“Comrade Ambassador Jingyi,” Terry Blücher boomed, “on behalf of our glorious Revolution, I welcome you to its epicenter.”


"Thank you, Comrade Blücher; and members of the council. On behalf of your friends from the Orient, please accept my humble gratitude.

Comrades, the Asian Communist Party understands that you are not only fighting for the liberation of the working-class, because more importantly, you are engaged in a battle for the very soul of Nova Capile. For too long have the Pan-Asiatic peoples sat idly as the imperial powers of the world hoarded-away more and more of the resources critical to the development of mankind."


Jingyi took-out an Omnitool personal holographic device from his left pocket, a silver disk embellished with mandarin characters.

It is to atone for this that the People's Federation of Pan-Asiatic States, first and foremost, believes that the conduction of the People's War in Nova Capile is, whilst righteous and noble, doomed to fail without the tactical and technological supervisory of a consolidated political entity who shares the same intention of the Capilean People's Revolution.

Less than a century ago, Asia too had been ensnared by the repressive ideological divide cast upon us by the bourgeoisie. When our heroes emerged from the ranks of the Asian people, the Soviet Union carried us through our struggle.

Today, the Capilean proletariat stands firmly against a rising tide of class-traitors. Let us, together, Asian and Capilean, workers of the world united, heed the call of the times; for time only goes forward!"





The Pan-Asiatic delegate continued to address the council for around an hour and a half, going over battle schematics and offering the full arsenal of the Pan-Asiatic States Armed Forces for the Capilean revolution's perusal. Jingyi was, after all, a retired military man himself, and was learned in the art of war. The Pan-Asiatic States' plan was threefold:

  • Acknowledging the tactical incapacitation of the workers' and peasants' army of Capile, specialized military advisers numbering around ten companies (1000), from the Pan-Asiatic States, wanted to train, educate, and fight alongside the Capilean socialists covertly;
  • Acknowledging the material incapacitation of the Capilean socialist revolution, the Pan-Asiatic Ministry of Defense wanted to provide the Nova Capilean army with high-end rifles smuggled through Saatland via airlift; and
  • Acknowledging the economic incapacitation of the Capilean socialist peoples, the Executive Council of the Pan-Asiatic States was interested in using a portion of the government's international aid fund in sending food and water to the people of Kongsburg and everyone under Socialist rule as a massive public relations stunt meant to bolster support for the Socialist cause.

Wu Jingyi would continue to reside in Ludislau as the Pan-Asiatic diplomatic envoy to Saatland, while coordinating with the resistance and Neo-Manila in handling the supplies which the Communists so desperately needed to win the war.
Last edited by Pan-Asiatic States on Sat Oct 05, 2019 6:27 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Akordania » Thu Oct 03, 2019 5:22 pm


REICH FIELD HEADQUARTERS
OCCUPIED GRAVINES

By the afternoon, the 5th and 12th Divisions withdrew from the city back toward field headquarters, which was then being broken down and utilized as a staging area for Stoßtruppen as they prepared to head South to aid their comrades in the fight against the Royalists. On the Akordanian side of the camp, infantrymen involved in the thick of the fighting grounded their gear and simply sat on anywhere they could; lighting cigarettes or pulling their helmets over their eyes to get in a quick nap. A few, still high from a prolonged surge of adrenaline, simply could not stand still- choosing instead to go hit the weights in the center of the camp. Surprisingly, not a single one of the Spetsnaz paratroopers could be found there, despite its reputation as their stomping grounds no matter the time of day. A few could be seen smoking and joking with an idle squad of Capileans, wearing their infamous telnyashkas. A junior officer from the unit stood outside his tent, his beret folded up and stuffed in his back pocket, braiding his beard. Many were still hiding away however, getting as much rest as they could; knowing full well it'd be their last opportunity for some time as the next operation commenced. The rest of the 3rd Brigade, however, was gathered in a clearing that was formerly the location of the Capileans' munitions storage. There, soldiers engaged in worship. Many candles were lit for comrades and for family back home, as well as safe guidance for the duration of the conflict. The candles were carefully placed before a ring of framed icons surrounding a Crucifix, which was temporarily secured in the ground. Many troops venerated Saint Demetrius and Theodore, who were particularly popular as patron saints of the military; having been warriors who were ultimately martyred for God. The small gathering proceeded for some time, before Colonel Rybakov herself stepped out. Having worn the traditional veil, she removed it as she walked, before pausing next to the Sergeant Major.

"See to our next set of orders from General Falk. I believe he's currently in the city, so stop by the comms tent to get a hold of him."

The old soldier nodded dutifully, and strode off.
Last edited by Akordania on Tue Oct 15, 2019 10:17 am, edited 3 times in total.
☦ A K O R D A N I A ☦
A struggling post-Soviet dictatorship marred by sectarian violence between the ultranationalistic Eastern Orthodox majority and the Muslim population. Inspired by Romania during its era as the National Legionary State. Also known for its harsh weather, rugged populace, and alcoholism.
Capital: Veroykne
Currency: Veksel
Leader: President Sergei Yukashenko
Population: 9 Million
Exports: Heavy machinery, gasoline, diesel, dairy products
Military: 180,000
Army - 90,000
Air Force - 78,000
Internal Troops - 12,000

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Postby New Decius » Sun Oct 06, 2019 12:27 pm

Battle of Stammburg
Operation Faust: Stage Four/ Operation Ludwig
Grand Duchy of Nova Capile

While catching their breath in a house across the street from the now fortified Party Offices, Sara was only seeing red as she stared through the window at the body of the fallen operative in front of the building they had set out to seize. He lay splayed out having received six shots to the chest from a machine gun burst as the APC’s had converged on the square, and there had been no chance to take the body with them during their retreat. KSK-Feldwebel Dewa Edobé, aged thirty-nine with sixteen years of service under his belt; born to a working class soldiering family in Deutsch-Kamerun, both his grandfathers had been officers in the Askari (Colonial forces in the German African Colonies) while his father was a farmer allotted a sizable plot of land as repayment for his family’s years of service. Dewa was a senior veteran of the KSK after sixteen years, not many operatives lasted more than ten either retiring after some devastating injury or event or dying from increasing daring and extreme assignments, hardly two in twenty lasted fifteen or longer like Dewa. In fact he had been Sara’s drill instructor at the KSK Training Facility in Saigon six years ago, and he made a profound impact on her life with his training methods. He had a wife and three sons all still living in Doula, two of his sons presently serving in the Askari, Sara knew them all quite well having kept in touch over the years.

It was also she who had nagged him into a return to active duty as an operative a year ago, she who had ensured his entry into her SOG as her Senior Non-Com, all to try and make her old teacher proud of what she had achieved. Another six months and he could’ve retired with honor from the KSK after seventeen years of service, a large and stable pension would ensure his family was always well-taken care of and he would be awarded the Order of the Crown of Prussia. Just completing this mission would’ve allowed Sara to guarantee his promotion to Feldwebel-Leutnant and Rommel might even have decided to give him a bump to an officers commission which would make Dewa’s pension even larger.

And now because of her he was dead in the street in a foreign land. All because she had been overconfident that the Stoßwehr was too committed at the front and would be too stunned to mobilize reinforcements in time. Her old mentor and friend was dead, his body being fleeced by foreign soldiers for his equipment and munitions.

“I’m going to fucking kill them all! I swear it! They’ll all be dead within the hour!” She bolted for the door only to be held back by one of her men, nay two as it became clear one alone was not nearly enough to restrain her. “Let go of me! I’m going to kill them!”

“Sara control your emotions! Dewa wouldn’t want you to get everybody killed over him!”

As they were struggling, the sniper, Schutze Ludwig Vought, came downstairs a thermal camera in his hand with a dazed look on his face. “Major I think we are witness to a coup here. Based on what I just saw on thermal, Scherk is dead, someone went into his office and shot him point blank.”

That complicated matters.

The Abwehr had wanted Scherk alive for interrogation, now he was no more.

They were also to capture the high command of VF forces in Stammburg lest Rommel have to spend a month hunting down the remaining enemy because their senior officers managed to escape underground.

Sara supposed she would have to improvise, after all there was no chance of getting through to Rommel’s headquarters. They might contact some of the divisions closing in on Stammburg en route to Carrbeck under General Ulräch’s command. Based on the reports she saw before they embarked for this mission, 16. Armee would have the vital port city captured within another day or two and complete the encirclement of the Sumpfwald. That meant they were close enough to provide some form of aid...

Including a precision air strike.

Having finally calmed down enough to properly call herself a commander again, Sara began issuing orders anew. “Heinrich, get on the line to Hauptmann Murat and tell him to be prepared to receive heavy resistance when Bertha enters the square. Should work out they’ve got the heavy munitions with them anyway...” It had been decided that since SOG Bertha was meant to act as the reinforcements in the event relief was needed they would have the heavy munitions to deal with such problems. This included distributing a Panzerfaust 4.5 RPG to each operative, and including not one but two heavy machine gunners among the SOG for dealing with enemy infantry. “Next get on the horn to the closest division you can reach from 16. Armee, I want a precision strike on those Party Offices as soon as possible. Give them authorization code A2337D881 that gives them clearance for a strike in a civilian zone so they don’t have to send the request up to Rommel’s headquarters. Make sure you give them the proper coordinates for the strike.”

Turning to the rest of her SOG, Sara pointed out the window at the enemy again. “In the meanwhile we’ve got to pin the enemy down until that strike hits. This means we might have to hold them down for an hour or two but we must do it. If Scherk has been killed it means there’s probably infighting in the VF’s ranks and if we take out the enemy commanders here then their troops at the front will be without leadership and unit cohesion will collapse! For Throne and Empire!”

Clearly Heinrich had got through to Murat because not two minutes later a shell slammed into one of the APC’s outside the Party Offices blowing it to smithereens. Another impacted thirty seconds later into one of the tanks actually flipping it over from the force of the explosion. The square was soon filled with bullets as the machine gunners from SOG Bertha opened up on the Stoßwehr troops in front of them while the rest of the operatives remained mobile to keep harassing the defenders. The remainder of SOG Dora also joined in the fun to bedevil their enemies long enough for the requested airstrike to take place.

They had an hour and a half to hold down the enemy so the strike could take place.
Proud advocate that Europe stands stronger together than divided. The EU may be flawed in some areas but the idea of a united Europa can only bring good fortune to Europe and the world. For more than two thousand years, Europe was home to conflicts inspired by coveting one another's territory and resources, even making the continent the home to some of the world's most destructive and costly conflicts. But the idea was all wrong in their minds. Their idea was to bring this territory or that under their flag and spread influence on the continent. The idea they should all have been thinking was that the goal should be to bring the continent under one unified flag.

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Postby The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile » Sun Oct 06, 2019 3:04 pm


GRAVINES
CAPILEAN REICH


General Werner Falk sat on a plush, comfortable chair within what had been the offices of the French General Staff, an expansive chateaux on the edge of Gravines.

Now the mansion served as the headquarters of General Karl Worgen, who had been appointed commander of the Reich’s forces in the region.

Falk swirled a flute of champagne in his right hand while surveying the neat list of directives held in his left.

As Reich Governor of the occupied Free French State, Worgen had quickly enforced martial law over the petulant French. Legions of militia had been raised from the Germanic populace of the region, who had been quite dissatisfied with the old, francocentric regime. Meanwhile, Worgen had also received tens of thousands of freshly-trained replacements, bringing the strength of his forces to nearly 300,000, who would be tasked with defending Reich’s the newly-acquired pearl.

Falk was eager to wash his hands of the whole affair; privately, he thought that the investment into Gravines would be an enormous drain on manpower and resources, as the French resistance would be most difficult to quell. Instead, he and his army had been transferred to the Royalist border, and would begin to immediately prepare for an offensive launched southward from Wolfcour.

Much to his chagrin, the Akordanians– including their two whole divisions which had so recently arrived in Capile– had been snatched out from under him by the enterprising Henrik von Ravenstein, foremost panzer commander of the Reich, who was currently leading a blitzkrieg toward Quassdorf in the West.

Making a note to inform his allies of their new directives as soon as he finished, Werner took a long sip of champagne.

He would indulge in his victory before making ready for the next.

KONGSBURG
SOCIALIST CAPILE



For an hour and a half, Jingyi held the assembly in rapture.

At times, when his speech drew to a euphonious peak, his listeners leapt to their feet and underscored his words with rumbling applause. At others, they sat, hands flying fast across notepaper, eyes glued to the impassioned comrade before them, ideas of revolution flowering in their heads.

Terry Blücher watched him, expression inscrutable. Once or twice, Wu Jingyi spoke so movingly of the necessities of the revolution and the methods through which to prosecute it that the General Secretary was forced to applaud or nod approvingly. But his expression never faltered.

When at last Jingyi concluded his plans, the assembly again applauded him. But Blücher drew it to order.

“Order, comrades, order. The Council thanks Comrade Ambassador Jingyi for his courage in coming here, and for his indispensable services to the Revolution. We will keep in contact, comrade. This assembly is dismissed.”

STAMMBURG
CAPILEAN REICH


Before long, new orders came forth from the bunker beneath the Party Offices, where Reudel and Wetter had taken up headquarters.

The German presence in the city was too dangerous to be tolerated.

Like jungle cats, the shock troopers of Reudel’s personal guard crept stealthily through the alleys and sidestreets of Stammburg, hunting their most dangerous game yet. The Germans did not seem willing to hide, at least initially. Guns blazing, they defended their positions tenaciously, and utilized heavy weaponry to neutralize what armor they could.

But the Capileans figured that their enemy did not have the manpower to fight so recklessly.

They brought the brunt of their attack on the enemy positions. Buildings were shredded by shell and rocket, walls by bullet and grenade.

The Stoßwehr would clear their town by tooth, if necessary.
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Akordania
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Postby Akordania » Mon Oct 07, 2019 12:50 am


NORTHWESTERN COUNTRYSIDE
NOVA CAPILE

General Krovoposkov, new orders in hand, wasted no time in mobilizing Army Corps East and moving it to the center of the advancing host under Ravenstein. Massive columns of Eastern Bloc armor and troop trucks clogged the roads leading from Gravines into the countryside, initially advancing at a crawl as they snaked their way through ruins and crowds of French refugees. The morale of the Akordanian forces, despite the brutality of combat seen at Gravines, was at an all-time high. Resupplied, rested, and favored by Perun, they thirsted for victory alongside the highly fanatical Stoßwehr. Additionally, with Reichsleiter Nemetz's public recognition and subsequent decoration of the Akordanians, the initial air of distrust between the two belligerents seemed to finally fade away, as Slavic soldiers bled and sweat beside their Germanic brothers-in-arms. A photograph taken by an embedded Akordanian journalist displaying a Capilean tanker and a rifleman from the 5th Division sharing a cigarette soon exploded in popularity on the home front; eventually being utilized by the Yukashenko regime as a propaganda piece. A simple statement was printed beneath the scene in bold lettering: "My boremosya za tu samu spravu. Dlya krovi ta dlya gruntu! We fight for the same cause. For blood and for soil!"

As Panzer Army "Nemetz" cleared itself of the urban center of fragmented French territory, the seemingly endless mobs of displaced Frenchmen gave way to crowds of grateful Germanic Capileans, who flanked both sides of the road and cheered on the advancing troops. Roman salutes were rendered in abundance, while women tossed handfuls of flower petals at passing vehicles. Krovoposkov still maintained a tight formation; intermittently deploying a reconnaissance element ahead of their position on the road while also bolstering rear security with heavy armor drawn from the center. They were in contested territory now, and the Royalists were an entirely different beast. Despite suffering a number of crushing defeats, they still presided over massive armies of seasoned troops, and were of course reinforced by the Germans.

The war as it stood had far too many variables for the strongman of a general to make a decisive assessment. With the arrival of the Bavarians to the aid of the French, very little progress could be made on that front, and would cost far too many lives. To the south, the Royalists still stood defiant of the Reich, along with the looming threat of the Communist horde. While he firmly believed in the cause and greatly admired the military prowess of the Stoßwehr, it was his growing belief that the Reich should draw its new borders at Quassdorf and attempt to initiate a ceasefire through the autumn and winter at the very least. Such an agreement would be truly one-sided, as the Communists and Royalists would be forced to clash over the sparse sources of food in the south.

In the same breath, there remained some appeal to engage the Royalists in full force; culminating in a finale that would parallel a heavyweight bout in a telephone booth...with knockout blows being hurled back and forth until one at last meets its mark. Permanently crush the Monarchy's large-scale military capabilities, and the only remaining concern would be just how high one should build the walls against waves of Communist cannon fodder. Either way, he had no say in the matter, he thought. Too few troops to be making the big decisions. He trusted the judgement of the Reich's brass not to overplay their hand.
Last edited by Akordania on Tue Oct 08, 2019 4:51 pm, edited 3 times in total.
☦ A K O R D A N I A ☦
A struggling post-Soviet dictatorship marred by sectarian violence between the ultranationalistic Eastern Orthodox majority and the Muslim population. Inspired by Romania during its era as the National Legionary State. Also known for its harsh weather, rugged populace, and alcoholism.
Capital: Veroykne
Currency: Veksel
Leader: President Sergei Yukashenko
Population: 9 Million
Exports: Heavy machinery, gasoline, diesel, dairy products
Military: 180,000
Army - 90,000
Air Force - 78,000
Internal Troops - 12,000

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Postby Luxembourg-Bavaria » Mon Oct 07, 2019 11:04 am

Roappe
Free French State





The Bavarian fleet rolled into Roappe. Slowly, the process of re-deployment began. Bavarian soldiers began moving through the city. Despite the retreat, the morale of the Bavarian troops was high as they knew the fight was far from over. In the eyes of the Bavarian Armed Forces, the lightning attack at Gravines proved that they could hold their ground against the mighty Stoßwehr. If anything, the stand outside the city gave the Reich something to think about. The prospect of defeating them in a battle they were prepared for was a daunting one indeed. All one had to do was look out at Roappe to see the fire was still lit. French and Bavarian soldiers alike worked in and around the city to create hard points of defense. In the city center, Bavarian officers were drilling groups of French troops, slowly transforming the partisan militias into a grand fighting force.

The war was from over. Before long, Roappe would be a fortress, and the road to the city would be filled with trenches.






Admiral Dieter Wagner
Bavarian Armed Forces
Roappe, Nova Capile


Aboard the Bavarian carrier Pride of Bavaria, the Bavarian naval commanders were debating a strategy.

"Admiral Wagner, the Reich surely have taken command of the French ships left at Gravines. We should expect any assault on Roappe to include a naval force. Now, I am sure we are superior to them in all ways, but we must prepare for the possibility of a dual assault on the city."

Wagner nodded his head.

"I believe you are indeed onto something Captain Müller. It seems we are faced with only one option. We must draw a line. Roappe must not fall to the Reich. Keep our ships in defensive formation. We must be ready for anything. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good. Report to your ships."

With that, the naval officers retired to their respective ships, carrying out their orders.

As the ships began to move, a bridge officer grabbed a headset, tossing it across the bridge to Admiral Wagner.

"Sir, Munich is on!"

Wagner pulled the headset over his ears.

"This is Admiral Wagner. Go ahead."

"Admiral, Chancellor Kasel would like to inform you that Army Group Leimann has completely mobilized and will soon depart for Roappe under escort from the 5th Fleet. The retreat from Gravines was a setback, but not a defeat. Keep fighting. We will not abandon our allies."

Wagner broke out into a huge smile.

"Understood, Munich. Tell the Chancellor we will fight as long as is needed."

"Copy that. Munich out."

Wagner ripped the headset off in jubilation.

"Inform Generals Werner and Krüger that Army Group Leimann is mobilized and nearly on its way!"

"Right away, sir!"




Last edited by Luxembourg-Bavaria on Tue Oct 08, 2019 7:19 am, edited 1 time in total.
Bavarian troops have re-deployed at Roappe to continue the defense of the Free French State!

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Postby The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile » Tue Oct 08, 2019 7:40 pm


ROSENBRÜCK
CAPILEAN REICH


The latest of many hamlets to fall victim to the panzer spearheads of Operation Hel, Rosenbrück lay just a few dozen miles north of Quassdorf. The Royalist defenders of the region had been flexible until now, bending and buckling at the Stoßwehr’s slightest touch, but now their defense was hardening.

Past Rosenbrück, the prowling panzers of 1. Panzer Army “Nemetz” had been rebuffed by stiff defenders. The Royalist lines had been thickened with the addition of many thousands of hardened veterans just transferred from the Eastern Front, whose skills significantly improved the defenders’ combat ability. Armed with the experience of months of ragged combat against the Communists and well entrenched, these men had prepared a solid line from which to stymie the Reich’s advance.

General Henrik von Ravenstein would have none of it.

Though he had already largely met the goal of Operation Hel– the conquest of the Rei River Valley, the producer of a plurality of the nation’s foodstuffs– Ravenstein wanted more. And Quassdorf, a key manufacturing city, was the perfect jewel with which to crown his successful campaign.

Making camp within Rosenbrück, the general immediately set to work marshaling his forces. The 1. Panzer Army “Nemetz” contained within it the best and the brightest of the entire Stoßwehr, itself the créme de la créme of the old Capilean military. Its soldiers were vaunted for their skill; ferocity in battle; and most of all for their dedication to warfare, a sworn oath that transcended life and death.

But alongside his grenadiers and tank crews were the Akordanians. They had proven themselves as invaluable allies during the Battle of Gravines, and Ravenstein was eager to see what a whole two divisions’ worth of them could accomplish against their foes.

ROAPPE
FRENCH FREE STATE


After so bad a defeat as at Gravines, one would expect a gloom of despair to cover what remained of the French Free State.

Yet there was no fog or even war-weariness to be found in the new center of the fledgling republic. It was a clear and bright day, and Roappe’s citizenry moved with lightning in their limbs and fire in their hearts.

In the vast clearings outside the city which had been made into makeshift drill squares, sturdy Bavarian officers trained hundreds of French recruits in the art of warfare. The Battle of Gravines had culled the ranks of the small Free French Army, but now the French manpower had reached its height. Rugged men from the countryside, whose marksmanship and knowledge of local geography was impeccable, drilled alongside burly lads recruited from the townships. Imbued with hundreds of years of Bavarian martial tradition, the French army was finally maturing.

STAHLBURG
NOVA CAPILE


Named for the metal most worked by its industrial-era foundries, Stahlburg was a complacent little town whose name would now forever be laid in the history books.

Ernst Maier had little time to wax poetic, however, as he was struggling for his life on the Royalist fighting retreat eastward. Stahlburg was the site where the Communist fighting south from Raus and those fighting north from Kongsburg would finally converge, despite Hermann Winser's dogged resistance.

The little hamlet was nearly lost to them. Swarmed by determined Communist footsoldiers who came from all directions, the few thatch-roofed houses still defended by gray uniforms were flaming.

Ernst’s mind again strayed to poetry, as he reflected how strange it was to see the long neck of a flashing machine gun spray flame from the window of a quaint Tudor cottage.

The bullets whistling past his head reminded him to keep running, to fire off a trio of bullets over his shoulder toward the reds every four or so steps.
He looked back a final time, thinking that turning into a pillar of salt was preferable to dying of a bullet wound.

He saw the two red armies, one from Kongsburg and one from Raus, converge, Stahlburg theirs, and indulge in an orgy of brotherhood. Without regard for the bullets and shells crashing all about them, the Communists fell into each other’s tight embraces, laughing and singing and smiling at each other, throwing helmets and hats into the air. It was as if they were a senior class celebrating their graduation; they were carefree and ignorant of death.

Looking at them rejoice so innocently, so humanly at the union of Kongsburg and Raus, Ernst could not imagine them as bloodthirsty Marxist dogs.

They inspired in him an otherworldly, primal feeling of belonging, of community and friendship among all men.

Ernst felt a desire to join them.

A bullet passing by an inch from his ear shattered the thought.
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Postby Akordania » Wed Oct 09, 2019 12:48 am


ROSENBRÜCK
CAPILEAN REICH

On the westernmost reaches of the line descending upon Quassdorf, the Akordanian advance ground to a halt as they were met with ferocious resistance from a sizable force of seasoned Royalist troops. Further down the line, the entirety of the Blitzkrieg had fizzled out against the will of the monarchist forces, gradually turning into a stalemate that was draining manpower of both sides. The landscape became a sea of blood and twisted iron as Akordanian tank companies spearheaded the renewed offensive into enemy territory, clashing with Royalist light armor in a waist-high wheat field. The Akordanian armor, despite suffering countless breakdowns in the Capilean countryside, made up for it in terms of its armament; punching gaping holes through hull after hull that created a fiery maze for which to navigate through. The Royalist counteroffensive had not yet died however; as the 5th and 12th's rifle regiments drew up behind the armor, they were greeted with a hailstorm of concentrated mortar fire.

Chunks of the line were shredded by the converging bursts of shrapnel, sending the men flat onto their bellies. Meanwhile, anti-tank guns were quickly rolled to the first layer of the monarchist host, which lay in a thick gathering of trees. The guns belched hellfire from their bores and disabled several tanks, before at last wilting under indirect rocket fire from the Akordanian rear. The carnage of the rocket attack sent the Royalist center deeper into the woods, leaving behind a field of smoking iron. At the flanks, veterans covered their retreat- intersecting their sectors of fire and wreaking havoc in the Akordanian ranks.

Reserve and engineer battalions were summoned from the rear to bring back the momentum. Under renewed rocket and artillery fire, the troops pressed onward. Generals Sobol and Utkin split their tank companies and committed them to the flanks to quell the threat of any further counteroffensives on foot. There, the armor peppered the trees with machine gun fire, slaying countless enemy troops who laid behind soft cover. Their subsequent withdrawal was made with smoke and hastily calculated artillery fire, which impacted hundreds of meters to the left and right of the Akordanian host. Shocked but certainly not beaten, the rifle regiments reformed in line formations, leaving massive gaps to accommodate for further monarchist fire support.

As the open plains gave way to a forest, the worst of the fighting had yet to be experienced. The defenders' heavy machine guns thundered relentlessly as a sea of green helmets poured in through the trees, hurling back salvos of their own and carrying on through walls of hot lead. Though they indeed fought like lions, the monarchists gave in to the immeasurable pressure. Massive trees buckled and crashed onto gun positions, as surviving light armor led a panicked retreat through thick foliage. The rage of the Akordanians was palpable. Staggered defensive lines drawn up in the woods were quickly overrun. Many a monarchist caught the end of a bayonet as they scrambled after their retreating comrades. Even still, the Royalist Army was certainly not to be underestimated. Despite being taken by surprise, the chaos they managed to inflict at the onset of the Akordanian offensive was concerning, and textbook strategies were clearly not wise to utilize; an army with so rich a history likely wrote it themselves.
Last edited by Akordania on Wed Oct 09, 2019 5:27 am, edited 5 times in total.
☦ A K O R D A N I A ☦
A struggling post-Soviet dictatorship marred by sectarian violence between the ultranationalistic Eastern Orthodox majority and the Muslim population. Inspired by Romania during its era as the National Legionary State. Also known for its harsh weather, rugged populace, and alcoholism.
Capital: Veroykne
Currency: Veksel
Leader: President Sergei Yukashenko
Population: 9 Million
Exports: Heavy machinery, gasoline, diesel, dairy products
Military: 180,000
Army - 90,000
Air Force - 78,000
Internal Troops - 12,000

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Postby The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile » Sat Oct 12, 2019 7:13 pm


QUASSDORF
NOVA CAPILE


Field Marshal Kurt Doppler stared intently at the tactical map laid before him.

In his forty years of service to the Capilean military, never had the man encountered worse odds.

Against the Reich’s raging 1. Stoßarmee and 2. Panzerarmee– not to mention the divisions of veteran Akordanian troops spearheading the Fascist offensive–, Doppler had but two armies.

In its present state, 1. Army under Lieutenant General Salzenstein, would have never been commanded by any self-respecting Capilean officer before the war. At the eruption of Klaus’ War, 1. Army was winnowed by desertions, with much of its personnel abandoning the Crown in favor of either the VF or the Communists. Reinforced only by callow boys, the formation had been sorely beaten by the Reich ever since, and was seriously lacking in morale.

The other could hardly be called an army at all. Its official designation was 2. Battlegroup, commanded by Major General Paul Bohmann, and it was composed of a paltry 102,000 men which had been poached from the 12. Army in the East. Unlike the shaken 1. Army, however, 2. Battlegroup had mettle: it was made up of experienced veterans who would not tremble at the sight of Stoßtruppen.

All the rest of Heeresgruppe Saxon, the army group Doppler commanded, was already busy anchoring other parts of the Western Front, leaving him with 375,000 men with which to turn back the blackcoat tide.

Running a hand over what silver hair he had left, Kurt Doppler sighed heavily. He was too old to be thrust into a command such as this. Another three years, and he would have retired, had this God-forsaken war not broken out.

“Where are our allies when we need them?” he questioned aloud, as he began penciling orders on the sprawling map. Soon he had devised a battleplan, even without the requested allies.

Luckily, there was one advantage that Doppler held high over the Reich’s haughty head: airpower. Where the Fascists lacked a well-developed air force, the Crown’s fighters were unrivaled amongst the factions in terms of number and skill.

Calling upon the air wings of General Klerk, headquartered at Heussburg, Doppler planned to hound the enemy armor columns and thus blunt the Reich’s spearheads. Meanwhile, with the 2. Battlegroup as its backbone, his men would dig in and resist the enemy’s assault with the help of friendly air support– the Reich would find them harder to overcome than flimsy Frenchmen.

The battlelines were drawn; Doppler had not a moment to waste. Disseminating the battleplan to his subordinates, the Field Marshal dispatched his request to General Klerk.

Soon after, he heard the voice of an angel overhead. It was the screech of a jet fighter.

POLDORF
NOVA CAPILE


For too long we’ve been on the defensive,” Hermann Winser snarled, his electric blue eyes sweeping from one of his subordinates to the next. “It’s time to regain the initiative. Never have I won a war by waiting for the enemy to defeat himself.”

The Großmarschall of Nova Capile surveyed the generals gathered before him on so many computer screens. From the bunker that was now the home of him and his staff, he could speak clearly to men on the other side of Capile.

Before him were the commanders of over half of the Royalist armies across Capile, from the West to the East, from North to South.

“My overarching design, gentlemen, I have called Operation Panoply– referring to a suit of armor, of course– and you shall soon see why.

“First, I shall address General Lohmüller.” He turned to a rigid, white-uniformed blond. “Your Naval Infantry Corps is tasked with the execution of Operation Greaves. It shall consist of two naval assaults launched from Südhoof, aimed at the capture of both Ludislau and Steighof. From there, the Saatlander insurrection can be strangled.”

Lohmüller silently nodded his assent, and Winser turned to his next quarry. “General Wittendorfer!” He addressed a shorter man with closely trimmed brown hair and a humble demeanour. “You shall execute Operation Shield, which shall be the land invasion of the so-called ‘Dutch Republic.’ Capture Krugersburg and Papsthoof before driving through the Dutch heartland and bringing Oranjstad beneath our flag. You shall be supported significantly by infantry and armor elements which I have already transferred to you from other formations.

“In both of the former cases, our enemies are ill-trained and -equipped, and thus should be no match for our professional forces.” The Bulldog’s eyes swiveled to lock with those of the Bloodhound, Augustus Hornberg.

“Field Marshal Hornberg, I charge you with Operation Helmet, the long overdue suppression of that Communist rebellion in Pritzen. You will eventually have the support of several of the armies that are currently being trained in Rochefurt, and so quelling these scum should not be an issue for you.

“Next, of course, is Field Marshal Doppler, who is currently busy stemming the tide of the Fascist assault on Quassdorf and so is represented by General Allenheim.” A tall, gray-haired officer with haunting, pale blue eyes nodded in response. “Operation Lance will comprise the halt of the Reich’s offensive against Quassdorf, and a subsequent retaliation aimed at recapturing the Rei Valley before Winter. You will have the support of the remainder of the newly-trained armies from Rochefurt, and so, God willing, you will be able to kick those Fascist curs all the way out of the capital.

“And, of course, my faithful few on the Eastern Front.” He was referring to Generals Kirstin, Kesselbach, and Haase, among others, who looked at him hopefully. “We– for I shall be taking a personal hand in this– will be executing Operation Breastplate, on which hinges this whole design. The conjoining of Raus and Kongsburg into one large territory is particularly troublesome for us. In Operation Breastplate we shall shore up the line and prevent further Communist flailings from seizing any more land. Then, we shall work toward striking at the heart of the rebellion itself– Kongsburg.”

At this, there were a number of whispered exclamations from Winser’s listeners. “If this flood of ‘revolution’ is to be dammed, we must fight it at its source. We will extinguish the flame of Communism once and for all by descending on the leaders of this damned uprising.”

There was a pregnant silence, and Winser’s bright blue eyes seemed to glaze, though whether it was a product of his advanced age or a heroic fantasy, no one knew. At length, he resumed.

“Gentlemen, you have your directives. I have supplied you with the general plan, and leave the specifics to you. You will all begin preparations immediately, and Operation Panoply will be launched across the board on October 1.

“The fate of the Crown lies in your capable hands. Now, let’s get to it.”
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Postby Akordania » Tue Oct 15, 2019 1:37 pm


QUASSDORF
NOVA CAPILE

The Akordanian host had the westernmost flank of 1. Army by the throat, and simply would not let go.

The Akordanian answer to a medium tank, the V-4, remained the unsung hero of the offensive- punching bloody holes through the hastily prepared Royalist defense and giving them no recovery with its speed of assault. Closely in tow, light tank platoons laid down concentrated suppressive fire for advancing infantry. Meter after meter was given up as momentum finally fell back into the hands of the Reich; with the advance resuming all across the line. Royalist conscripts, caked in ash and the blood of their comrades began to rout in droves, abandoning most of their support vehicles, ammo caches and gun positions with the relentless encroachment of the Fascists. Pockets of the line, mostly composed of veterans, held fast, but simply could not bare the weight of iron that sought to smother them.

The aggressive advance was brought to a halt yet again just outside of Quassdorf. There, the exhausted 1.Army met with 2. Battlegroup to stage a final repulse outside the city. To start, the once empty sky above the battlefield darkened with the arrival of Royalist air support. Soaring seemingly every which way, monarchist fighters cleaved into the attackers with a mixture of cannonry and bombs, turning formations of Akordanian and Stoßwehr armor into fiery husks. Lines of infantry broke up with the introduction of the overwhelming air power, diving for any semblance of cover and sewing chaos in the ranks. Soon, the familiar howl of Stoßwehr fighters, baring the Raven's head, crashed into the scrum; shredding enemy aircraft with their machine guns and diving downward to strafe the mounting defensive effort. Even still, their support was numbered. It was no secret that the Royalists had far more seasoned pilots at their disposal, and with that a much more developed infrastructure to support prolonged air operations. While the arrival of friendly aircraft to the fight was certainly a solid development, the relief was fleeting. Heavy machine guns and anti-tank field pieces continued to batter the Akordanian host, crippling their armored capabilities and butchering exposed infantry. In spite of it all, the Black Flag of Army Corps East held on. At the rear of the host, 100mm Skodas belched shells across the battlefield into the Royalist lines; bringing about an appalling slaughter. Surviving V-4s were shored up by LB-20 light tanks, limping onward ahead of the infantry, who continued to take ground with apprehension. Further down the line, the ranks of the Stoßtruppen had thinned out significantly...and yet, they showed no signs of faltering.

There was no denying that the sight of the square-jawed Capilean stormtroopers, faces shrouded in shadow from the visor of their stahlhelms, was an intimidating and equally inspiring sight. As long as the Wolf's Head held fast, there would be no withdrawal. In an effort to tip the balance, General Sobol dispersed the ranks of his 5th Division across the breadth of the advance, while General Utkin pulled the strength of the 12th Division from the spearhead and veered further west. In coordination with Akordanian artillery, as well as Stoßwehr air elements, the edge of the Royalist line came under total hellfire. Soldiers of the crown scrambled into their trenches as shells and machine gun fire shredded their pillboxes and field pieces, blowing massive caches of nearby munitions and blanketing the landscape in cattle-sized chunks of shrapnel. With their westernmost flank suppressed, the 12th took up an offset position just beyond enemy lines. From there, the combined strength of the V4s and LB-20s were sent once more into the storm. With the arrival of the 12th's armor at the edge of the Royalist flank, fire support ceased. The 12th drove through the ranks of the enemy like a dagger, gutting the interior of their lines while the rest of the Reich forces reached decisive proximity to the defense. The L-shaped attack had been executed flawlessly, and yet, the cost was staggeringly high; especially for the Akordanians, who had very little manpower to begin with. Even with the introduction of such a strategy, 2. Battlegroup had lived up to its reputation; having received hefty blows and hurling them right back against overwhelming odds. It became evident that they were hellbent on holding the perimeter of the city, and with the dwindling number of Stoßwehr aircraft, the Blitzkrieg was faltering.


VEROYKNE
AKORDANIA

The homefront remained as lively as ever.

Akordania was not consumed by the concept of Total War as their allies were, and yet, the populace remained committed to the conflict. While the Capilean Reich presided over an abundance of resources, with the level of success Sergei Yukashenko had achieved in propaganda, he would have no opposition in a support effort. Troop trucks, tractors, and mine flails were freshly assembled for export to the Capilean Reich, as well as thousands of diesel drums. As per usual, such products were flown by the workhorse Il-76s and air-dropped in the North.

Pasted to walls, lightposts and public transportation, the war was heavily glorified through real combat photos as well as artistic depictions. Captions often trumpeted support for Akordanian troops holding the tide against the godless, Marxist puppet hordes of French and Royalist conscripts. Political rallies were held in squares across the nation to maintain morale and drive young men to to enlist. The radiant daughter of the regime, Stasya Yukashenko, was frequently placed as the headline speaker of such rallies in Veroykne; acting as a mesmerizing mouthpiece for her father's interests. In a final emotional appeal to every demographic of the nation, child star Tatiana Voznesensky, in conjunction with the Yukashenko Legionary Choir, produced a nationalistic rendition of the immensely popular folk song "Katyusha"; which was broadcast nightly on state-run radio stations.

The benefits Yukashenko reaped from Klaus' War was threefold: the establishment of a military alliance with a superpower, re-vitalization of Akordanian industry, and the significant strengthening of his regime's hold on the nation.
☦ A K O R D A N I A ☦
A struggling post-Soviet dictatorship marred by sectarian violence between the ultranationalistic Eastern Orthodox majority and the Muslim population. Inspired by Romania during its era as the National Legionary State. Also known for its harsh weather, rugged populace, and alcoholism.
Capital: Veroykne
Currency: Veksel
Leader: President Sergei Yukashenko
Population: 9 Million
Exports: Heavy machinery, gasoline, diesel, dairy products
Military: 180,000
Army - 90,000
Air Force - 78,000
Internal Troops - 12,000

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Postby The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile » Tue Oct 15, 2019 8:05 pm


QUASSDORF
NOVA CAPILE


The ground before Quassdorf became the Ninth Circle of Hell. It may as well have been, as so many traitors– the Stoßtruppen– were condemned to it.

Beset all about by hurtling shell, chittering machine-gun, and armored tank, the Royalist line faltered. Many a man’s will was broken, many a cheek drained of blood and left pale; and yet, they remained anchored to their positions, like ghosts damned to haunt their resting place.

Even as the Stoßwehr raged against them, the Royalists held fast, repelling each assault with a God-given vigor. The air war blared overhead, and there the Crown-emblazoned aircraft slowly edged out their Raven competitors. Soon, Royalist craft were largely free to ravage the Stoßwehr spearheads, although they were doggedly resisted by the Reich’s Jagdhunde.

The valiant defence was incredibly aided by the condition of their foe. Weary from weeks of non-stop campaign and a month’s worth of well-wrought slaughter, the stormtroopers lacked a certain element of energy that had previously carried the day for them.

Still, they bent the line relentlessly, not deprived of their characteristic will to triumph. 1. Panzerarmee fought with a peculiar tenacity because of its devotion to its commander, General von Ravenstein. Like an uncle to his men– for Nemetz was, of course, their father– Ravenstein expected nothing less than victory from them. The bespectacled general hoped to crown his Reichsleiter with the circlet that was the Rei Valley, made complete by the twin jewels of Reiburg and Quassdorf.

Never before had he failed Nemetz, his closest friend. He was not in the mood to start now.

But, for all of Ravenstein’s wants, he would have to do more than whip his men onward to taste victory. The Royalists plugged the line admirably, refusing to be overrun by the panzers which plunged so desperately into the fray.
Guarded by hardy veterans of the 2. Battlegroup, the gates of Quassdorf buckled, but did not break.
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✠ The Grand Duchy of Nova Capile ✠
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New Decius
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Founded: Jul 24, 2014
Democratic Socialists

Postby New Decius » Wed Oct 16, 2019 8:32 pm

Stadtschloss, Berlin
Kingdom of Prussia, German Empire
Federation of European Monarchies

“Grandfather I must protest! This is insane!”

“Possibly, possibly one can never tell where one’s actions will lead them.”

“But this is sheer madness! The potential consequences far outweigh any slim possibility of reward!”

“Again possibly. However in my life how many times do you believe I have had those very words spoken to me?”

At present Josef Franz, Emperor of Germany and Europa, and King of Prussia was in the rather unusual position of standing in his own Entrance Hall flabbergasted by developments beyond his control. This of course is a rare occurrence; when one is one of the most powerful leaders in the world, it is not often things are beyond one’s control. However even he could not deign to command the man looking over his baggage in front of him, nor could he ever dream of doing so.

“Grandfather I know that Klaus is your old friend and all but surely it would be better to wait until at the very least the Stammburg campaign has finished. You will surely present a tempting target to a fascist or anarchist bomb thrower much as Franz Ferdinand did in Sarajevo.”

Yet the elderly former monarch simply continued to check through his luggage to make sure nothing had been forgotten. He didn’t even deign to turn and face his grandson when speaking to him, regardless of his status. In most cases this would be such a breach of courtesy as to constitute a blatant insult but given that Wilhelm was technically still the patriarch of the Germania Dynasty he could treat his grandson as his grandson rather than as his sovereign.

“I don’t know if you remember Josef but I began my military career not as an officer but as a Schutze and then climbed my way up the ranks through combat service. I had managed to displease your Great-Grandfather enough with my playboy attitude as a youth that he put me in the Kaiserliche Armee. All of this you already know of course.” Now he turned back to his grandson as his valet Theobald began bringing the luggage out to the waiting car. “Simply put, don’t tell an old soldier when he’s running into a dangerous situation. We already know that for ourselves thank you very much.”

“You will also take note that the aircraft I am traveling on bears the arms of our House Germania, will be accompanied by at least three fighter escorts either German, Italian, or French for the whole of the journey, and is equipped with the latest missile jamming systems developed for the Luftwaffe. Accompanying me are of my course my valet Theobald and two footman all trained in at least basic self defense techniques, three Diplomatic Security Agents assigned by the Foreign Office, and an Abwehr attaché. So could you kindly quit your worrying Josef.”

That finally shut up the young Emperor; after all its not everyday that a thirty year old man gets lectured by his seventy-four year old grandfather.

“Klaus has been a good friend of mine for more than forty years now, in fact it was my friendship with him which in turn allowed me to foster such good relations with his father the previous Grand Duke and perhaps kept Germany and Capile from being at each others throats during the Cold War. Also my great-niece is in Capile with her fiancée and as family patriarch I must go and approve of him after all mustn’t I?” The old Emperor got a mischievous glint in his eye. Clearly he intended to make Karl sweat before he gave his official approval for the engagement.

One could pity the unsuspecting Prince.

Before he could leave however another person ran out of a side hall carrying two suitcases in hand, professing apologies for their lateness. It was an eighteen year old man with a clearly familial resemblance to the two other men. “I apologize Uncle and Great-Grandfather but my valet simply couldn’t be convinced to come, apparently he’s acquired a touch of the flu during our recent harbor exhibition tour in Riga.” Claude von Aachen, Prince of Prussia, was the son of Isabelle von Germania the daughter of Kaiser Erwin Ludwig and younger sister to Kaiser Josef Franz whom had married the Count of Aachen. By normal way of things as he was older than Kronprinz Karl Friedrich and the grandson of the previous Kaiser he would be next-in line after Kaiser Josef Franz to succeed to the Imperial Throne, however because Princess Isabelle had not married into a Royal Bloodline of Germany and merely into a provincial noble house, he could not inherit the thrones of Prussia and Germany. When his father died Claude would become the Count of Aachen though he could retain the title Prince of Prussia all his life due to his familial relations.

The Kaiser seemed rather surprised to see his nephew unlike the elder monarch who simply greeted his great-grandson with a smile. “Claude what are you doing here?”

“Great-Grandfather informed me I was to accompany him to Capile so I could start getting some soldierly experience.”

Josef cast an accusing look at his grandfather.

“Oh don’t look at me like that it was arranged years in advance that Claude should take a military career. I am in some ways a liberal thinking man at least when it comes to people choosing their own path in life. After all when your sister wanted to pursue a career as a fashion mogul in Paris when I was still on the throne I allowed her to on the condition that her first born son take a military career. Now let me explain.” The old emperor set down his suitcase. “You presently have an Abwehr officer in Capile who, while a very capable man who has done many excellent services for his country, is in hot water for counseling the Reichsrat bombing correct?” Josef nodded. “Well they can hardly harangue the senior German or Capilean officers involved, too well connected or too liked in the ranks. So my solution is that Claude will be sent to Capile to be mentored in the art of command by Rommel or one of his field commanders, and this Abwehr officer will be attached to Claude as his security chief. You solve a diplomatic problem and a family one in one swoop eh?”



Battle of Stammburg
Operation Faust: Stage Four/ Operation Ludwig
Grand Duchy of Nova Capile

Though the Stoßwehr troops had managed to dislodge the two KSK SOG’s from their positions near the Party Offices, the nineteen operatives split up into two man groups or even went it alone. This played hell with the ability of even these elite troops to combat the commando’s hiding in their midst and also prevented them from moving their leadership away from the safety (and vulnerability) of the Party Offices, for fear that an assassin might be round every corner. In exchange for a mere loss of three operatives, the elite veteran KSK commando’s had inflicted a terrible toll on the Stoßwehr in the form of dozens of infantry and several armored vehicles. The Stoßwehr’s job was made even more difficult by the fact that they had to avoid causing too much of the destruction to the city lest the civilian’s in Stammburg begin to see their German cousins hiding amongst them in a fairer light.

However this skirmish was not to last, for the KSK had done its job well. All they’d needed to so was tie down the Stoßwehr command inside the city long enough for 3. Panzergrenadier Division attached to 16. Armee to get a pair of strike fighters to Stammburg for a precision drop. With the majority of Stammburg’s air defenses still fully or partially knocked out from the EMP strike and the remainder of the operational ones extremely low on ammunition a strike was almost guaranteed to hit. They would drop quite a few bombs all the same...just to be sure.

Sara would’ve not even noticed the two Me-507’s flying over the city, their engines drowned out by the firefight she was currently embroiled in, had she not been facing the direction they were coming in from.

”Major Brücke this is Theta-05 I have eyes on the target and am ready to drop. All assets clear of target area?”

“Affirmative Theta-05 we are clear from the target area.”

”Commencing Attack Run.”

A mere moment later the Party Offices were obliterated in a massive explosion....
Proud advocate that Europe stands stronger together than divided. The EU may be flawed in some areas but the idea of a united Europa can only bring good fortune to Europe and the world. For more than two thousand years, Europe was home to conflicts inspired by coveting one another's territory and resources, even making the continent the home to some of the world's most destructive and costly conflicts. But the idea was all wrong in their minds. Their idea was to bring this territory or that under their flag and spread influence on the continent. The idea they should all have been thinking was that the goal should be to bring the continent under one unified flag.

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