1914: A Very Merry War.

Nocrazy

Banned
Honolulu, Hawaii
Bob Carson stared at the Idaho. He sighed, and leaned forward, taking another swig of his beer. It was late, and no one else was around. He could still see the scorch marks on the guns. His ship was the best ship to have escaped from the encounter with Japan, and now was the strongest ship America had in Hawaii. The Japanese were....
Bloody unbeatable, he thought. The Japanese battle plan had been brilliant. When they had split up, he thought it was some kind of massive encirclement plan. Instead, it had been a trap. While most of the fleet went after the ships on the flanks, the Japanese in the middle had charged them head on, splitting the American fleet in two. From there, it had been a massacre. Carson had barely managed to get the Idaho out of it. From what he knew, only five other ships had escaped. Now, it would only be a matter of time before the Japanese landed troops. And the Germans wouldn't be far behind.
I'm such an idiot, he thought. If he had stayed in the center of the fleet.....
He shook his head. There was nothing to do about that. Right now, he was the highest ranking officer in the US's Hawaiian Fleet, and thus, overall commander. What a way to become an admiral, uh?
"Admiral Carson!"
Bob snapped back to reality, and looked around for who had called him. It was then he spotted someone walking towards him.
The man was on the large size, and was dressed in naval uniform. He stopped in front of Carson, and saluted.
"General Ford has requested that your presence, sir."
Carson blinked. The General wasn't an agreeable man's but...
Carson sighed, and started walking.
"Where can I find him?", he asked.
"He should be at HQ, Sir," the man replied.
Carson nodded. Whatever that man wanted, he would have to obliged him.
Maybe there's some good news....

Palm Springs, California
Timothy Hoover cleaned his nose. His Springfield rested by his leg, and his uniform hung slightly loose. The trench he was sitting in had been hastily dug about a week ago. From what he knew, it was still being dug.
He sighed. 30,000 American regular troops were defending Palm Springs, along with some 10,000 National Guard, and the local militia. From what everyone had heard so far, there were over 100,000 Germans advancing on Palm Springs. Sure, there was some people resisting their advance, but that was mainly National Guardsmen. And they weren't as strong as the reguakr army. It wouldn't be long now....
Timothy stood up, and grabbed his Springfield. He made his way down the trench, bored. He had joined up about a month before the Germans attacked. It was now two weeks since that had happened. From what he knew, the Germans were halfway to Corpus Christi, and the Japanese had attacked Hawaii about three days ago. The Austrians, Spanish, and Italians had sent troops, and they would be here soon. How they would fair, though, would be debatable. Brazil and Canada had yet to honour the alliance. It was bleak for America.
But he would be damned if America would lose this war. He had voted for Roosevelt because he knew that he was what America needed right now.
Timothy found himself at the back of trench now. The paperboy would be delivering the local newspaper soon, and that would make for a change. He sat down, and waited.
He didn't have to wait long. The paperboy arrived sooner then he normally did. He was out of breath. Timothy got up, and grabbed a paper. He sat down, and read the front page.
He stopped. The headline was massive, and was eye catching. It said something that America had been waiting for:
Canada and Brazil honour the Alliance of the Americas at last!
Timothy kept reading. The rest for the story detailed how the Americas Alliance had finally been put to work, with the Canadians promising to send troops to the Americans, and the Brazilian navy was moving into the Caribbean. No one knew what the Germans had to say about it, but it looked like things would finally look up for America.
He turned the page, and read the other stories. But he felt something inside him. Something he, and the rest of the American peolple, needed, even if he didn't know it: hope.
 

Nocrazy

Banned
Edmonton, Canada
Edward Bates yawned. He had been standing in line here for hours. The line was heading for a recruitment station. With Canada now at war with the Pan-European Alliance, it was gonna need all it could muster to drive the Germans out of North America.
The Yanks have dragged us into another bloody war, he thought, almost seething with rage. Most Canadians had no love of the Yanks, but the Germans weren't welcome on North America either. So really, it was a matter of who was the must unwelcome. And that would be the Germans.
He shuffled forward as the line moved onwards. He bumped into the man in front of him, and muttered an apology. No matter what would happen in the Americas, Canada was still one of the Big Three of the New World. They had beaten the Mother Country to gain independence, they had beaten Denmark to gain Greenland, for whatever that was worth, and had repressed the Québécois rebels. Edward Bates had great pride in his country, and valued it for what it had done, and it's ability to fend off the aggressors. Now, they would beat the Germans.
Soon enough, he found himself at the recruiting station. The man at the desk looked him over, and grunted. He looked like a veteran, alright.
"Name?" the man asked him.
"Edward Bates," he answered.
"Age?", the recruiter asked.
"27," Edward answered.
The man nodded. He handed Edward a sheet. He filled it out, signing his name, age, and address, and handed it back to the man. It was then he noticed that he had a hook. The man caught Edwards haze, and growled.
"Alright boy," he said, "head on home. We'll call you soon enough. As of this moment, you are now a member of the Canadian Army."
Edward nodded, and walked off out the door. By god, he felt pride in his step. The time had come for Canada to show the Yanks how to fight a war

Alice, Texas
Bill Granger coughed, and whipped his mouth on his sleeve. He and the rest of the survivors of the Texas First Platoon had been redeployed to Alice, to take part in the defence of the city. The Germans were getting. Pretty close, and once this place fell, then the way to Corpus Christi would be open, and Texas would be cut in half. And thousands of Americans would be trapped. That was something that couldn't be allowed to happen.
Kevin stumbled past him, clutching his gut. He vomited. Bill shook his head at him. Kevin had gotten involved with some women while in San Antonio, and her father hadn't taken very kindly to him at all. From what he knew, Kevin had been as rude as possible to the old man. And of course, had paid for it. Bill chuckled. Kevin wasn't much of a war hero, but it wasn't war heroes who won wars. Oh no. That was job of the ordinary soldier, the ones with the rifle in their hands, sweating and bleeding every damned day.
Course, war heroes were good for morale. Bill chuckled again. The tales of the last stand of the Texas First Platoon had become legendary, and many young men had given him a pat on the back when they found out who he was. But frankly, he didn't much care for that. He just wanted to win this damned war, go home, and maybe get hitched.
But it was better in Texas then damned California. There was what, 90,000 men, plus who knows how many militia and National Guard, against 200,000 Germans. In Texas, more and more troops were arriving, and a lot sooner then they were in the other states.
Bill stood up and listened. It was still quiet. Just like Laredo. He knew they Germans were coming. It wouldn't be long now....

Washington, D.C.
Theodore Roosevelt turned the door knob, and pushed it open. The room he entered was a flurry with activity, with men running from one end to another. When he entered, however, all movement stopped when the various men in the war room realized he was here. They paused for a moment, then saluted him, the sound of boots clicking and hands moving up to foreheads. Theodore stopped, and nodded.
"At ease," he said, his voice grave.
He marched towards the table in the center of the room, and reviewed the large map laid across it. He studied it carefully, looking over the states that the Germans were already in. The Germans were pushing on Alice, Hot Springs, Phoenix and Palm Springs. Things looked bleak everywhere. But there was some good news.
Theodore smiled. He started speaking, carrying the voice of the President of the United States.
"Gentlemen," he began, " I have some news you will all be glad to hear. The Canadians will be sending 100,000 men to California, giving us the reinforcements we need to stop the Germans from taking Los Angeles."
He heard someone give a sigh of relief. Probably a Californian.
"On a more important note, the British Ambassador has given me a massage from the Prime Minister. They will be sending supplies to aid us against the Germans. This includes guns for our navy."
Fleet Admiral Patrick Alberts smiled. The man was already pushing for a massive naval rearmament following the defeat at the Batte of Hawaii. Now he had it.
Theodore marched over to the Texas section of the map. He stared at it.
"Congress has also passed my bill for a million man army. Several weapons factories are already producing the necessary guns for the new army. I am sure most of you have been waiting for this for a while now."
There were nods of agreement from most of the armymen in the room. Theodore had been pushing for the bill since he had been elected. Now, he has done it.
"Finally, Emperor Pedro III has informed me that the Brazilian Royal Navy has set sail from Caracas, and 50,000 Brazilian troops have moved into Panama to help the troops we already have stationed there. They are commanded by General Sanchez, and he is has plans for the defence of Panama, which he hopes to share with General Bridge. With this added strength, I'm sure we can all agree that it may be a sign for the Germans to try something there, so I have sent orders to our ambassadors in Central America to meet with the heads of states in the respective nations."
There was a slight wave of discomfort among the men in the room, but at the same time, Theodore had long suspect the Germans would try to invade Panama soon. He just had to confirm it for them.

Okay, so, here is the new chapter. I have decided to name the Germans alliance the European Community Alliance. So tell me what you think of it.
 
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Minor issue I wanted to pass along in your recent post. Truth or Consequences, NM was actually named Hot Springs in 1914. The change to Truth or Consequences did not come about until 1950 when it renamed itself after the quiz show. Hope this helps.
 

Nocrazy

Banned
Yakutsk, East Siberia
Premier Viktor Kolchak gazed down upon the mass of men standing before him. They were dressed in homemade uniforms, a rifle or shotgun slung over their shoulders. A red star was sewn onto the shoulders of the make-shift outfits. That symbol was the only thing that was the same on each and every piece of cloth of the Red Army.
Viktor cleared his throat, and looked down at the papers he had set on the podium. He started reading the speech, his voice carrying across the square.
"Comrades! Hark! Listen to my words! For at this very moment, events in North America will decide the fate of the world!"
He had chosen those words so as to convey not just to the citizens of East Siberia, but the whole world, what he intended to do.
"Three weeks ago, the German Empire invaded the United States of America, and it's puppets in the Pan-European Alliance have followed suit, each sending their misguided armies to aid in the enslavement our of proletariat siblings of the American continent. I say to you, comrades, after all that has been wrought upon us by the same tyrants, be they from Berlin or Moscow or Tokoyo, will we stand by and watch?"
"I need not remind you all of the proud history of the Socialist Republic of Eastern Siberia. How, during the Revolution of 1906, we all, as one single army of oppressed desiring freedom, rose up against the Tsarist forces. But as we neared victory, the German Kaiser, desiring to ensure the dominance of his might and will, declared war upon socialism everywhere, and sent his forces to break us."
Viktor could hear the scowls of disgust and silent angry at the memories of those cursed days. He paused for breath, inhaling deeply, before continuing;
"We were forced to flee to here, East Siberia, and set up the Socialist Reoublic of Eastern Siberia. When the Tsarist forces arrived to destroy us, they found it not an easy task, their friend the Kaiser being unwilling to send any forces to assist them. Thus, we won our freedom. But alas, short lived was our peace."
He paused again before continuing. His voice was filled with grief and misery at the memories of what had happened next. It was, of course, a mere performance for the men before him, but that didn't mean he did have fond memories of the event.
"While we enjoyed peace, Japan took advantage of our weakness, and struck, taking Kamchatka and much of the Vladivostok Province. My comrades, I vowed to retake the land we had lost. And as of this moment, I shall! For I am pleased to declare that the Soviet Council has declared war upon the Japanese Empire, and even now, our comrades in arms are advancing into the oppressed lands, with the intention of freeing the Proletariat! Today, comrades, will you stand up and join me in driving our enemies from the soil of East Siberia?"

Cries of agreement rolled out, with many pounding their feet on the ground and thrusting a fist into the air. For them, the time had indeed come to right past wrongs. How just it would be didn't matter to them. All that mattered to Viktor Kolchak was victory at any cost.

Washington D.C.
Theodore Roosevelt opened the door to the White House. As he did so, he heard the pattering of small feet upon the hard floor. He turned suddenly, and spread out his arms in preparation.
A small boy came charging at him, his head lowered. Theodore caught him as the boy was just about to connect a headbutt, and lifted him up. The small child started hitting Theodore with his fists, grunting. Theodore laughed, and hefted the boy over his shoulder. The child squealed, and started screaming.
"Put me down, daddy, put me down!"
Theodore, still laughing, did so, and set his son back down on his feet. The boy was pouting.
"Nice try, James," Theodore said, still laughing.
James Roosevelt pouted some more, and folded his arms. The boy was a spitting image of Theodore when he was that age. But the boy had his mother's eyes, and his face was a bit more round then Theodore's. He noticed that his son was barefoot.
"Where are your shoes, boy?", he asked.
"In my room," the child answered.
"And why aren't they on your feet?", Theodore asked him.
"Because I like being barefoot.", he answered.
Theodore chuckled, and lead his son back upstairs to the living quarters of the White House. When he reached it, he could hear the sounds of his wife humming away. He smiled. Libby Roosevelt was the one thing he looked forward to after a long day of work with the War Department.
She came out of one the rooms, holding a pair of small shoes. She had a look on her face as she directed her gaze at young James. The boy's face flushed briefly, and he turned away. Libby chuckled softly.
"Young man," she started, "I do believe it it about time you went to bed."
James scolded and looked to his father. Theodore slowly shook his head.
"This is a fight neither of us will win, sonny," he answered.
James pouted, and was lead away by his mother to his room. Theodore followed, and helped tuck him in bed. Before he left, though, he heard James ask him a question.
"What did the Jerries do today, dad?"
Theodore turned back, and answered simply, "March a bit closer to their graves."
Theodore closed the door, and walked with Libby to the sitting room. They sat down opposite each other, and she asked him a question. One which he didn't like to hear.
"What did the Jerries do today, Teddy?"
Theodore sighed, and told her what had occurred at the War Room.
"We'll," he began, "they've started their assault on Hot Springs and Phoniex. I'm sending 50'000 men to each state, and have already ordered the National Guard of Nevada, Colorado, and Utah to be deployed in embattled states."
Libby nodded. Her next question came in the same, feminine manner as the first.
"Is it true that East Siberia has declared war on Japan?"
"You can bet you're hat it has," he answered her.
"Those reds are only in this fight for two things: recognition and turf. Aside from that, they don't have any real love for us, aside from being the victims of a common enemy. Course, now Russia will be joking the war."
Libby nodded once more. Again, she prodded him. But this time, it was more personal.
"Darn shame about Harding, putting a bullet in his mouth."
Theodore nodded. Thomas G. Harding had committed suicide. His wife had found the body.
"I must admit, we were all a bit too hard on him. We drove him to it. Truth be told, though," he paused a bit. He didn't know how to get this off his chest. Before Libby started speaking again, he said something that made her stop. Completely.
"I could be like Harding someday, Libby."
She stared at him in shock. It seemed impossible to consider. Theodore Roosevelt was the Bull of the Republicans, the man who would lead America through this crisis. He was the man who had gotten on one knee for her
She asked him in a harried tone, "Whatever do you mean by this nonsense?"
"Well," Theodore began, "the stress is one thing. The stress that future Americans will look back at me and think, 'why did he do this,' or 'he should have done that!' The list goes on."
He sighed. He had been thinking about it for a while now
"Libby, you know I love you, and you love me. But if America loses this fight, I will bear the blame. Please, Libby, for the sake of James, make sure that if it comes to that, he knows I did everything I could to win this war."
Libby nodded. Oh, how she dearly wished that politics wasn't so complicated.

I'm a bit cut for time, but I will add more.
 
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Nocrazy

Banned
Moscow, Russia
Helmuth von Moltke sat nervously next to the Kaiser. He gave no outward sign of his discomfort, of course, but events had started to conspire in a....unexpected course.
Von Moltke had come with the Kaiser to Moscow to help with negotiations about the possibility of Russia's entry into the Pan-European Alliance. He was to serve as an advisor for the Kaiser. Not that the man would ever admit it.
Tsar Ivan Romanov was seated just across the table from them. The current meeting was taking place in a private residence of the Tsar in Moscow. The purpose was to discuss the entry of Eastern Siberia into the war.
Tsar Ivan opened the discussion; "I do hope that you are feeling well, dear cousin."
The Kaiser grunted. "Yes, yes, Ivan. And how are you?"
"Fine. Now, onto this business concerning Eastern Siberia." The Tsar has a slight twinkle in his eyes. Von Moltke knew that he has often enjoyed teasing the Kaiser in his youth.
The Kaiser was quick to start speaking.
"I find most intolerable of you that the mighty Russian Empire failed to crush a few measly peasants in Siberia."
The Tsar smiled, and nodded. "Don't forget, dearest cousin, that this is Siberia we are talking about. The land of blizzards and deserts all rolled into one. Trying to force march my men to Yakutsk didn't pay off in the slightest."
Von Moltke glanced at the man next to Tsar Ivan, General Vladmier Kazakov. The man was thinner then the Tsar, and had a small crest of hair on his upper lip. He was looking dead at von Moltke. Neither man was sure if they could trust the other. The Kaiser started speaking again, this time more forcefully.
"I am well aware of the difficult terrain in Siberia, but surely you cannot allow for such open rebellion against your holy authority."
Tsar Ivan raised an eyebrow. The Russian Tsar was indeed head of the Russian Orthodox Church, so to be called out in such a manner was rather bold.
His voice was calmer then his cousin's. "I must say that while I cannot tolerate it, I must also take into consideration the feeling of the Russian public. Most of them are convinced that you are a scoundrel really, and I, nothing more them your puppet. I would rather be seen leading as an independent ruler, and not being forced to call upon the every wish and desire of a foreign government. After all, it could lead to another civil war."
The Kaiser grunted again. He was growing more and more temperamental, and was hoping to end the North American conflict soon. His next words were sharp and clear, but still deadly.
"Perhaps it would be better if the German Army was posted to Siberia instead to restore order."
Tsar Ivan sat up sharply. He was well aware that the German Army had been tremendously helpful in holding back the Red Army, but for them to be seen fighting instead of Russian Army....
He sighed. Somehow, it seemed as if the world was against him. But frankly, he needed to be seen taking an active stand against the Germans. He puffed up his bloated chest and answered.
"I believe it would be better for you to return to Berlin for the time being, and allow me to talk things over with the Kremlin. I would have to consult them over this matter."
Tsar Ivan rose from his seat. His subordinate did the same. Helmuth started to believe that now would be a good time to start preparing for the possibility of another front.
Palm Springs, California
Timothy Hoover carefully peered over the side of the trench. He knew full well that the Germans were coming. Just as bad was the thought that he would be at Saint Peter's door soon.
He shivered. The Battle of Hot Springs was, as far as he knew, still on. Phoniex was getting pummeled hard. But both cities would have to hold for the sake of California. And his hide.
He suddenly heard a soft whistle. He wasn't sure what it was. Then someone cried out, "TAKE COVER!" And Timothy obliged him.
He ducked down into a recently made bunker, and hunkered down as small as he could. Several other men did the same. An explosion came from outside. More of them followed. The. He realized what was happening.
The Jerries are here.
He waited a full twenty minutes for the artillery to cease firing. When it did, he sat up. Sticking his head outside the bunker, he looked around. The trench was damaged, but not too badly. The barbed wired in front of it was broken in some parts.
Picking up his Springfield, Timothy advanced nervously out of the bunker. The other men followed him. He moved as cautiously as possible to the edge of the trench. He was about to look over it when he heard something. A series of cracks. Then he heard more. He looked over the top.
The sight that greeted him awe inspiring. Masses of German troops were charging at the him, yelling as hard as they could. Some knelt down and fired, while others just pulled the triggers while aiming from the hip. Craters provided cover for them. And there was plenty. It was nothing like he read about Laerdo. Some of them were cut down by fire from the Americans. He just stood and watched as the spectacle of war began.
A crack sound just next to him. He jumped, and turned to see where it had come from. They he remember that he had a gun. He put it down on the edge of the trench, and looked down the iron sights. He squeezed the trigger. A German twisted and fell down. He cocked the gun, and fired again. Another German fell.
A bullet flashed past him. Then he heard a scream. He did nothing. Didn't even look to see who screamed. For him, it was simple. The words of his drill instructors were repeating themselves in his head. He starting saying them to himself, while someone else nearby starting calling out for a medic.
"Ready, aim, fire! Ready, aim, fire! Ready, ai-"
He was cut off by the burst of a machine gun. He didn't know which side was using it. But from the fact it sounded like it came from the Germans, he guessed it was theirs.
Then he realized he was laying on the ground. He blinked, and tried to sit up. Then he felt a sharp pain. He looked at his hand. Bones stuck out from where his thumb had been. He blinked again at the sight. He didn't feel any pain. None at all.
Then he heard a new sound. A man's scream. Not one of pain. Like a wild animal. He looked up.
A German jumped down into the Americans clustered around him. Then some more followed him a split second later. Timothy felt like he was looking at an exotic beast. Time seemed to be frozen.
Then the Jerry killed someone. Tim snapped back to reality. He watched as the Jerries started slashing away his comrades. He stood up quickly, and drew his bayonet knife. He screamed, and charged into the melee. The German who had jumped down first had only a split second before the knife moved across his throat. He stood in shock, then collapsed, gurgling. Tim grabbed a fallen Springfield, and put a bullet into another Jerry. He heard the sounds of even more men storming forward. He looked behind him.
About twenty Americans were holloring and yelling as they smashed into the Germans. The bloodbath only escalated. Tim just turned and stabbed another Jerry. The knife stayed in the man. He swung the butt of his Springfield and slammed it into a helmet. The metal clanged, and the wearer collapsed. He looked like he was sleeping.
Tim gripped the gun as best he could, and start beating the man. Then he felt someone pull him back form the fight. He turned around, screamed, and almost brought the gun butt on an American. He stopped before he did. The man who had pulled him back stared him, grabbed his arm, and yanked him back down the trench.
Tim could still hear the sounds of carnage as wood slammed into bone and metal pierced flesh. He just didn't really care.
 

Nocrazy

Banned
Just realized that story has numerous plot holes, and have considered rewriting it. Any objections?
 

Nocrazy

Banned
Nope. Go ahead. I'd love it if were more "history book" style, but that's not what you're going for so whatever. Go for it.

Okay then. However, I enjoyed several of these stories and the characters involved. Therefore, I will probably do a blend of both.
 
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