Time for a new one, then(pretty please?)
Next time there's a border change, remind me. I'll try to fix all the other mistakes at that point, too.
A Shift in Priorities - Sequel
- Thread starter rast
- Start date
Next time there's a border change, remind me. I'll try to fix all the other mistakes at that point, too.
So... I made this using the previously posted map:
Hopefully it is correct.
Extremely close, as far as I can tell. I think Dutch New Guinea is a single administrative unit. Also, the Bahamas, Turks and Caicos, Martinique and Guadeloupe are part of the US. Oh and Sikkim is independent. Still miles better than my last attempt!
Here I just went off of the original map as I have no idea what is under acutal administration and what is protectorate/puppet etc.
Maybe I missed one or two islands, but they mostly are under the US on the map.
I don't remember this happening. Will check this.
That's a mistake, will be corrected.
I don't remember this AT ALL!
Someone please help. Thanks!
Yeah, I guess you did get the Bahamas, it's just the Turks and Caicos, which were merged with the Bahamas.
I don't know if Sikkim was covered in a TL post, but Rast confirmed its independence in this conversation post.
I also couldn't find any in-TL-post information until when the TL progressed quite a bit about Turks and Caicos, so I guess that was retconned/clarified later.
Thanks for that.
So, here it is again, adressed all the concerns and also noticed that the original had the Ålands in non-Finnish colour (probably conservative Russian), so I changed that too.
Also, had to change the name I gave this map on deviantart, I accidentally called it 'A Shit in Priorities'.
I personally would then also feel obligated to add coloured borders for the Pan-Turan Commonwealth, the Aryan Realm and the East Asian League as well. And that'd be confusing. I'm not sure about the membership and associated status of several countries for the EAL and Uyghurstan would look strange.
Nanakorobi yaoki – Stumbling seven times but recovering eight.
(Japanese saying)
With an uneasy feeling, Imperial Japanese Prime Minister Ashida Hitoshi was giving the assembling gentlemen the once–over. A hunch warned him that this was going to be unpleasant – and expensive. Well, he had asked to be appraised of the situation, so, he couldn't blame them for gathering – even if they reminded him of vultures homing in on the carcass... Rapt in apprehension, he was playing with his fountain pen, while the gentlemen were taking their seats. Nuclear fusion, huh? Rockets!
"All right." he addressed the participants. "Thank you for coming. I've called this meeting – after being warned that other nations – the Russians in particular – are working on fusion weapons. The Keibi–Kyoku alleges that the Great Qing Empire is also active in that regard, even if they haven't fired a fission bomb yet. This is serious, gentlemen, very serious. – Now, where are we?" He looked questioning to Kanemitsu Tsuneo, the minister of science and research. Kanemitsu harrumphed – and made an encouraging gesture to Doctor Shimizu Sakae, the assistant of Professor Arakatsu Bunsaku. Shimizu rose and bowed.
"Professor Arakatsu sends his deep regret for not being able to answer your call, Your Excellency. He is on Pikinni – and couldn't make it in time. He has tasked me to act for him."
After the first Japanese fission bomb had been exploded over Shimushiru in the Kuril Islands – just to advertise Nippon's nuclear capability to the Russian Empire and the Great Qing Empire, further testing had been shifted to the Pikinni Atoll. One didn't want to advertise too much, and Pikinni allowed the military to establish sound security precautions.
"Go ahead, Shimizu–San. I'm sure you're a worthy substitute for the venerated professor."
"We're aware of the hypothetical fusion process, and we know of the discussion taking place in the German scientific magazines, but we haven't undertaken own research yet. We are still busy optimising our fission bombs – and neither have spare capacities nor additional funding..."
"That's what I've dreaded. – So, we've nothing. If funding was available, how long would it take you to develop a fusion bomb?"
"Difficult to predict, Your Excellency. The principle is simple, but the practical implementation seems to be kind of difficult. My estimation would be four to five years."
"Maeda–San," Ashida addressed the minister of war "I gather our means of delivery for the fission bombs are heavy land–based bombers. Have we looked into other possibilities of delivery?"
Maeda Yonezō rose and bowed.
"No, we haven't. We're still in the process of assembling the strategic bomber force – and coaxing the industry to produce improved models – for example a jet-powered supersonic aircraft."
"No attempts to develop rockets?"
"No rockets yet, because of limited funding. What there was went to the nukes and the strategic bombers."
"This has to change, gentlemen. Nippon cannot afford to become susceptible to blackmail. Once a potential enemy possesses fusion bombs, he can obliterate the home islands – if we are not able to retaliate in kind. Therefore, I want an armaments programme that provides fusion bombs, rockets and maritime means of nuclear employment..."
Ashida saw Gensui kaigun–taishō (Marshal-admiral) Yamamoto Isoroku, the Joint Chief of Staff, nod emphatically.
"Nippon must become unassailable, because every attacker risks his own annihilation. – I will undertake to procure the money, but I need your proposals and cost estimates as soon as possible. Let's say: by the end of next week. Thank you, gentlemen."
Thanks for the new map.
(Japanese saying)
With an uneasy feeling, Imperial Japanese Prime Minister Ashida Hitoshi was giving the assembling gentlemen the once–over. A hunch warned him that this was going to be unpleasant – and expensive. Well, he had asked to be appraised of the situation, so, he couldn't blame them for gathering – even if they reminded him of vultures homing in on the carcass... Rapt in apprehension, he was playing with his fountain pen, while the gentlemen were taking their seats. Nuclear fusion, huh? Rockets!
"All right." he addressed the participants. "Thank you for coming. I've called this meeting – after being warned that other nations – the Russians in particular – are working on fusion weapons. The Keibi–Kyoku alleges that the Great Qing Empire is also active in that regard, even if they haven't fired a fission bomb yet. This is serious, gentlemen, very serious. – Now, where are we?" He looked questioning to Kanemitsu Tsuneo, the minister of science and research. Kanemitsu harrumphed – and made an encouraging gesture to Doctor Shimizu Sakae, the assistant of Professor Arakatsu Bunsaku. Shimizu rose and bowed.
"Professor Arakatsu sends his deep regret for not being able to answer your call, Your Excellency. He is on Pikinni – and couldn't make it in time. He has tasked me to act for him."
After the first Japanese fission bomb had been exploded over Shimushiru in the Kuril Islands – just to advertise Nippon's nuclear capability to the Russian Empire and the Great Qing Empire, further testing had been shifted to the Pikinni Atoll. One didn't want to advertise too much, and Pikinni allowed the military to establish sound security precautions.
"Go ahead, Shimizu–San. I'm sure you're a worthy substitute for the venerated professor."
"We're aware of the hypothetical fusion process, and we know of the discussion taking place in the German scientific magazines, but we haven't undertaken own research yet. We are still busy optimising our fission bombs – and neither have spare capacities nor additional funding..."
"That's what I've dreaded. – So, we've nothing. If funding was available, how long would it take you to develop a fusion bomb?"
"Difficult to predict, Your Excellency. The principle is simple, but the practical implementation seems to be kind of difficult. My estimation would be four to five years."
"Maeda–San," Ashida addressed the minister of war "I gather our means of delivery for the fission bombs are heavy land–based bombers. Have we looked into other possibilities of delivery?"
Maeda Yonezō rose and bowed.
"No, we haven't. We're still in the process of assembling the strategic bomber force – and coaxing the industry to produce improved models – for example a jet-powered supersonic aircraft."
"No attempts to develop rockets?"
"No rockets yet, because of limited funding. What there was went to the nukes and the strategic bombers."
"This has to change, gentlemen. Nippon cannot afford to become susceptible to blackmail. Once a potential enemy possesses fusion bombs, he can obliterate the home islands – if we are not able to retaliate in kind. Therefore, I want an armaments programme that provides fusion bombs, rockets and maritime means of nuclear employment..."
Ashida saw Gensui kaigun–taishō (Marshal-admiral) Yamamoto Isoroku, the Joint Chief of Staff, nod emphatically.
"Nippon must become unassailable, because every attacker risks his own annihilation. – I will undertake to procure the money, but I need your proposals and cost estimates as soon as possible. Let's say: by the end of next week. Thank you, gentlemen."
Thanks for the new map.
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Yay! Senpai noticed! (Kinda appropriate, considering the nature of the post.
)Do let me know whether left any mistake.
Peace is a natural effect of trade.
(Charles de Montesquieu)
As Christmas 1949 was drawing close, the Ottoman Rocket Deal affair rocked Germany. It even overshadowed the very successful Raumschrat-2 mission. – Unlike in the Raumschrat-1 mission, no great height was attained this time, but the space craft remained in a rather low orbit – and conducted a series of manoeuvres under radio guidance from the ground. That was in fact a huge step forward, as for the first time it was possible to steer a space vehicle along a free running of navigation points estabished by radio signals from earth. Beate Uhse, in her second mission, performed a miracle of precision – and after two days – Raumschrat-2 landed spot–on in the Central Pacific Basin.
But the media only registered the mission in passing. The Ottoman Rocket Deal affair – or scandal, as many were suggesting – was claiming the headlines and news broadcasts. – Looking for a means to employ their fission bombs, the Sublime Porte had asked to purchase German missiles. The rocket type chosen was the A8D, a two–stage liquid-fuel rocket with a payload of five metric tons and a maximum range of 4,500 kilometres. The A8D was mobile; it could be displaced on road or on rail. On the road, the launch convoy consisted of twenty-four vehicles, including seven trailers; on rail, a dedicated train of three hundred metres length was required.
The Schumacher Cabinet had agreed to the rocket deal without any serious misgivings. The Ottomans were trusted allies. Deployed on the territory of the Pan–Turan Commonwealth, the missiles could hit every point in the Russian Empire. The German economy would profit greatly from the deal: not only the rockets would be purchased, but also the road vehicles and the special trains. The Ottomans had asked for fifty rockets, it was a really big deal. – If one, however, had hoped to sweep proceedings under the rug, one hadn't reckoned with a whole gang of whistle blowers, well entrenched in the structures of the government apparatus.
That the DFU and the peace movement in general should object, didn't surprise nobody. But the DVP joined in immediately, objecting the proliferation of precious Germanic technology to impure heathens, who could be trusted to pursue nothing but insidious aims. The KPD didn't hesitate to protest as well. – And the left wings of both SPD and LDP were in uproar too. Even inside the Zentrum, many were questioning the wisdom of the deal. After all, the Turks were no Christians, but wicked infidels. – Kurt Schumacher, on the other side, once he had made up his mind, was adamant to see the deal through.
The matter escalated within days. The nation was swept by protest marches and demonstrations, which quickly went violent. In Berlin, the centre of the storm, the Pussian police cracked down on the rallies in force. After two protesters had been killed within a short time – a girl was knocked down by a police armoured car; and a boy died after having been hit by police batons – the situation went ballistic. 'Berlin is burning!' cried the media, while the surge spread out over Germany. On Tuesday, December 20th, 1949, public order had broken down in Berlin, Leipzig, Dresden, Breslau, Stettin, Hamburg, Bremen, Hannover, Cöln, Münster, Frankfurt, Stuttgart, Munich and Vienna.
The police services and the fire brigades were fully stretched in what later would be known as 'Schumacher's Bloody Christmas', but as families were actually gathering to celebrate Christmas Eve and the festive period following, the fracas eventually died down to a level they could cope with. If public peace wasn't preserved totally, at least the level of arson and heist dropped considerably. – But it was only a truce. "We'll be back for New Year's Eve!" blared out the peaceniks. "And this time, the fireworks will be for real!"
(Charles de Montesquieu)
As Christmas 1949 was drawing close, the Ottoman Rocket Deal affair rocked Germany. It even overshadowed the very successful Raumschrat-2 mission. – Unlike in the Raumschrat-1 mission, no great height was attained this time, but the space craft remained in a rather low orbit – and conducted a series of manoeuvres under radio guidance from the ground. That was in fact a huge step forward, as for the first time it was possible to steer a space vehicle along a free running of navigation points estabished by radio signals from earth. Beate Uhse, in her second mission, performed a miracle of precision – and after two days – Raumschrat-2 landed spot–on in the Central Pacific Basin.
But the media only registered the mission in passing. The Ottoman Rocket Deal affair – or scandal, as many were suggesting – was claiming the headlines and news broadcasts. – Looking for a means to employ their fission bombs, the Sublime Porte had asked to purchase German missiles. The rocket type chosen was the A8D, a two–stage liquid-fuel rocket with a payload of five metric tons and a maximum range of 4,500 kilometres. The A8D was mobile; it could be displaced on road or on rail. On the road, the launch convoy consisted of twenty-four vehicles, including seven trailers; on rail, a dedicated train of three hundred metres length was required.
The Schumacher Cabinet had agreed to the rocket deal without any serious misgivings. The Ottomans were trusted allies. Deployed on the territory of the Pan–Turan Commonwealth, the missiles could hit every point in the Russian Empire. The German economy would profit greatly from the deal: not only the rockets would be purchased, but also the road vehicles and the special trains. The Ottomans had asked for fifty rockets, it was a really big deal. – If one, however, had hoped to sweep proceedings under the rug, one hadn't reckoned with a whole gang of whistle blowers, well entrenched in the structures of the government apparatus.
That the DFU and the peace movement in general should object, didn't surprise nobody. But the DVP joined in immediately, objecting the proliferation of precious Germanic technology to impure heathens, who could be trusted to pursue nothing but insidious aims. The KPD didn't hesitate to protest as well. – And the left wings of both SPD and LDP were in uproar too. Even inside the Zentrum, many were questioning the wisdom of the deal. After all, the Turks were no Christians, but wicked infidels. – Kurt Schumacher, on the other side, once he had made up his mind, was adamant to see the deal through.
The matter escalated within days. The nation was swept by protest marches and demonstrations, which quickly went violent. In Berlin, the centre of the storm, the Pussian police cracked down on the rallies in force. After two protesters had been killed within a short time – a girl was knocked down by a police armoured car; and a boy died after having been hit by police batons – the situation went ballistic. 'Berlin is burning!' cried the media, while the surge spread out over Germany. On Tuesday, December 20th, 1949, public order had broken down in Berlin, Leipzig, Dresden, Breslau, Stettin, Hamburg, Bremen, Hannover, Cöln, Münster, Frankfurt, Stuttgart, Munich and Vienna.
The police services and the fire brigades were fully stretched in what later would be known as 'Schumacher's Bloody Christmas', but as families were actually gathering to celebrate Christmas Eve and the festive period following, the fracas eventually died down to a level they could cope with. If public peace wasn't preserved totally, at least the level of arson and heist dropped considerably. – But it was only a truce. "We'll be back for New Year's Eve!" blared out the peaceniks. "And this time, the fireworks will be for real!"
Well that's interesting. I think the most interesting thing about it is the primary reaction is domestic.
I seem to remember IOTL Russia had quite a lot to say about missiles arriving in Turkey, and here we've got them potentially going deep into Central Asia.
Also interesting that the first missile sales aren't to even closer German allies, like the eastern members of the COMECON.
Just thinking about ways the Russians might retaliate given their current mindset. I wonder why they haven't gotten closer to Greece. True, there's no easy route to reach Greece. But Russia's super rich, and the era of the cargo plane must've arrived by this point. It wouldn't take all that much to buy off the good will of the Greeks considering the country's pauperized state.
The two countries are basically coreligionists, with Russia a solid substitute for Serbia in that regard. The Russians don't trust Europe, and Greece downright hates Europe at this point. Russia's been insinuating itself elsewhere in the world for trade purposes, why not do the same for a strategic location like Greece? It will allow them to threaten much of the Mediterranean basin, and respond to the German provocation of selling missiles to the Ottomans.
This whole arms race also serves to highlight the problems the world will face at the end of a century of passive-aggression. Unlike IOTL, there's not just one bloc to topple to achieve a general easing of tension. Unless the blocs start to ally more closely (definitely a possibility) things are going to stay messy for a long, long time.
But on the other hand, people are already getting used to living in a world without the threat of general war. That's going to be a big motivation for all to keep the peace and open up the world.
I seem to remember IOTL Russia had quite a lot to say about missiles arriving in Turkey, and here we've got them potentially going deep into Central Asia.
Also interesting that the first missile sales aren't to even closer German allies, like the eastern members of the COMECON.
Just thinking about ways the Russians might retaliate given their current mindset. I wonder why they haven't gotten closer to Greece. True, there's no easy route to reach Greece. But Russia's super rich, and the era of the cargo plane must've arrived by this point. It wouldn't take all that much to buy off the good will of the Greeks considering the country's pauperized state.
The two countries are basically coreligionists, with Russia a solid substitute for Serbia in that regard. The Russians don't trust Europe, and Greece downright hates Europe at this point. Russia's been insinuating itself elsewhere in the world for trade purposes, why not do the same for a strategic location like Greece? It will allow them to threaten much of the Mediterranean basin, and respond to the German provocation of selling missiles to the Ottomans.
This whole arms race also serves to highlight the problems the world will face at the end of a century of passive-aggression. Unlike IOTL, there's not just one bloc to topple to achieve a general easing of tension. Unless the blocs start to ally more closely (definitely a possibility) things are going to stay messy for a long, long time.
But on the other hand, people are already getting used to living in a world without the threat of general war. That's going to be a big motivation for all to keep the peace and open up the world.
Passion is the mob of the man, that commits a riot upon his reason.
(William Penn)
The riots had delivered Hanne Zülch from her depression. Yeah! That was what she needed! Destroy what is breaking you! Get cracking! – Tossing stones into shop windows was okay; and when the police cracked down on them, casting cobblestones at them as well. – Who had started to jury-rig Mexican Cocktails, Hanne didn't know. They suddenly had arrived, a whole crate, together with a guy who had explained how to use them. Dortmund's old quarter wasn't exactly medieval, industrialisation and Wilhelminism had transformed it to a fairly modern – if not overblown – lithic environment. Thus, the Mexican Cocktails hadn't started a conflagration, but nevertheless, they had managed to burn down several houses.
While throwing stones, she had met Egon. He was a big bloke, a true giant. He had laughed at her attempts at hitting a cop – and had promptly shown her how to do it, striking down an officer with a brick. And when the mounted police had trampled them down, he had saved her from the hooves. – Eventually, they had ended up in bed. Egon didn't seem to mind her obesity. He had screwed her rough and savage. And she – for the first time ever – had climaxed, not only once, but three times in succession...
The problem was that Egon was a DVP goon, as Hanne had found out after the act. His full name was Egon Schagalla, and he was a DVP member since many years. – Now, she had always hated and despised the Völkischen, but Egon was another kettle of fish altogether, wasn't he? His political ideas were what one could expect from a DVP dork, but his physical qualities were – smashing, absolutely awesome... Well, giving him the sack was out of the question; she would have to convert him to communism... perhaps...
When the Christmas curfew hit Dortmund, they huddled together in Hanne's flat, got drunk – and remained – more or less – sloshed for the rest of the festive days. That didn't stop them from banging, however. Thank goodness, Egon wasn't one of those whose dick went limp when they drank booze. Hanne was happy. And Egon, in his unpretentious way of looking at life, just enjoyed... Why worry? Commies were bitches, but this bitch was cute. Hey man, fucking this commie bitch was cool, the best slapper he'd ever had.
The whisper network was working well despite the curfew, and on Tuesday, December 27th, 1949, they were preparing for the big New Year's Eve event. Egon wangled a bicycle chain and a knuckleduster. Hanne borrowed a leather outfit and acquired a first aid kit. They would perform together. Hanne had decided that the opinion of her party comrades didn't bother her. She would stick with Egon; he was the best she could ever hope to get...
(William Penn)
The riots had delivered Hanne Zülch from her depression. Yeah! That was what she needed! Destroy what is breaking you! Get cracking! – Tossing stones into shop windows was okay; and when the police cracked down on them, casting cobblestones at them as well. – Who had started to jury-rig Mexican Cocktails, Hanne didn't know. They suddenly had arrived, a whole crate, together with a guy who had explained how to use them. Dortmund's old quarter wasn't exactly medieval, industrialisation and Wilhelminism had transformed it to a fairly modern – if not overblown – lithic environment. Thus, the Mexican Cocktails hadn't started a conflagration, but nevertheless, they had managed to burn down several houses.
While throwing stones, she had met Egon. He was a big bloke, a true giant. He had laughed at her attempts at hitting a cop – and had promptly shown her how to do it, striking down an officer with a brick. And when the mounted police had trampled them down, he had saved her from the hooves. – Eventually, they had ended up in bed. Egon didn't seem to mind her obesity. He had screwed her rough and savage. And she – for the first time ever – had climaxed, not only once, but three times in succession...
The problem was that Egon was a DVP goon, as Hanne had found out after the act. His full name was Egon Schagalla, and he was a DVP member since many years. – Now, she had always hated and despised the Völkischen, but Egon was another kettle of fish altogether, wasn't he? His political ideas were what one could expect from a DVP dork, but his physical qualities were – smashing, absolutely awesome... Well, giving him the sack was out of the question; she would have to convert him to communism... perhaps...
When the Christmas curfew hit Dortmund, they huddled together in Hanne's flat, got drunk – and remained – more or less – sloshed for the rest of the festive days. That didn't stop them from banging, however. Thank goodness, Egon wasn't one of those whose dick went limp when they drank booze. Hanne was happy. And Egon, in his unpretentious way of looking at life, just enjoyed... Why worry? Commies were bitches, but this bitch was cute. Hey man, fucking this commie bitch was cool, the best slapper he'd ever had.
The whisper network was working well despite the curfew, and on Tuesday, December 27th, 1949, they were preparing for the big New Year's Eve event. Egon wangled a bicycle chain and a knuckleduster. Hanne borrowed a leather outfit and acquired a first aid kit. They would perform together. Hanne had decided that the opinion of her party comrades didn't bother her. She would stick with Egon; he was the best she could ever hope to get...
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Dvúm smertyám ne byvát, odnóy ne minovát. – Two deaths will not happen, but one is inevitable.
(Russian proverb)
What the heck! Nikolay Fyodorovich Vatutin was determined to have his midday break and his nap. All this bustle and excitement was for the birds.
"Kharashó, ladies and gentlemen, thank you much for your input. – Now, let's have lunch."
He brushed aside questions about resumption.
"Not today, I need time to ponder over the information you provided."
He watched them leave the room, still debating agitatedly. Finally, the servants closed the doors and pleasant silence permeated. – Jeez! They almost had bent his ears. His lunch would be served in the conservatory, for him alone – without any blatherskites blaring in his soup. Slowly, rapt in thought, he rose from his chair and headed for the backdoor.
It was a difficile matter, because the media had already grabbed the issue – and were inflating it to mountain size. Well, it was messy. But there was not much one could do. The Turks always had relied on German armaments. These rockets were something new, granted. But whether the Turks used the heavy bombers they already had or the rockets they now wanted to buy, was a moot question in Vatutin's mind.
Dash it! Russia had no intention of conquering the lands of those Muslim Chernozhopi again, even if these critters didn't believe in Moscow's statements of policy. No, the real threat from that corner was still in its infancy. The main weakness of the Pan-Turans always had been their poor population base. Indigent and ignorant as they had been, they hadn't been able to afford the medicinal progress available to others. Only recently had infant mortality been decisively reduced with the help of Ottoman money. Right now, these Chernozhopi were in the process of producing offspring galore. So, in fifteen or twenty years, there might be hordes of people in these barren land staring greedily at the green fields and never-ending forests of Mother Russia. – But by then, the bombers as well as the rockets would be totally obsolete...
Nay, Russia's objective was regaining the Ukraine. And that couldn't be achieved with war. It was a matter of cultural attraction, not of weapons. – No, he didn't want to fight a war. The soldiers had briefed him yesterday. Tukhachevsky and his chief of staff, Zhukov, both drunk, as always. He should get rid of them. They were sitting together the whole day, drinking and daydreaming about their past glory, when they had beaten the Japanese Chernozhopi and the Chinese Chernozhopi... Some new brains were needed in the supreme command; folks that could rationally deal with a changed world.
Old-fashioned war was no longer feasible in a world full of nukes. Not everybody had understood that yet. But Vatutin had. The Turkish Chernozhopi would install their rockets, one would install some rockets in response, and nothing would happen at all... It was a kind of game, an expensive game, but better than hot war. – Well, there might be bush wars still, like this ridiculous affair in Mesoamerica, but war between the major powers had become something else entirely. Russia had what? About two hundred nukes... Germany certainly had just as many. Russia thus could utterly destroy Germany, and Germany could wipe out the European part of Russia. But who would gain from this exercise? It was pure folly...
No, he wouldn't give in to hysteria on the rampage. Let the frigging Turks have their useless toys. These Chernozhopi wouldn't attack Russia, they rather were fearing her. – Vatutin had arrived in the conservatory. The table was set. The soup was smelling deliciously. He grunted in appreciation. Olga, the waitress, was awaiting him, smiling pleasantly. She was trained not to talk his ears off. – Vatutin took place, Olga ladled the soup into the soup bowl, bowed and retired out of sight. Vatutin said a brief prayer. – Yum yum! String beans, back bacon, potatoes and a pig's tail, delicious... Vatutin was happy.
(Russian proverb)
What the heck! Nikolay Fyodorovich Vatutin was determined to have his midday break and his nap. All this bustle and excitement was for the birds.
"Kharashó, ladies and gentlemen, thank you much for your input. – Now, let's have lunch."
He brushed aside questions about resumption.
"Not today, I need time to ponder over the information you provided."
He watched them leave the room, still debating agitatedly. Finally, the servants closed the doors and pleasant silence permeated. – Jeez! They almost had bent his ears. His lunch would be served in the conservatory, for him alone – without any blatherskites blaring in his soup. Slowly, rapt in thought, he rose from his chair and headed for the backdoor.
It was a difficile matter, because the media had already grabbed the issue – and were inflating it to mountain size. Well, it was messy. But there was not much one could do. The Turks always had relied on German armaments. These rockets were something new, granted. But whether the Turks used the heavy bombers they already had or the rockets they now wanted to buy, was a moot question in Vatutin's mind.
Dash it! Russia had no intention of conquering the lands of those Muslim Chernozhopi again, even if these critters didn't believe in Moscow's statements of policy. No, the real threat from that corner was still in its infancy. The main weakness of the Pan-Turans always had been their poor population base. Indigent and ignorant as they had been, they hadn't been able to afford the medicinal progress available to others. Only recently had infant mortality been decisively reduced with the help of Ottoman money. Right now, these Chernozhopi were in the process of producing offspring galore. So, in fifteen or twenty years, there might be hordes of people in these barren land staring greedily at the green fields and never-ending forests of Mother Russia. – But by then, the bombers as well as the rockets would be totally obsolete...
Nay, Russia's objective was regaining the Ukraine. And that couldn't be achieved with war. It was a matter of cultural attraction, not of weapons. – No, he didn't want to fight a war. The soldiers had briefed him yesterday. Tukhachevsky and his chief of staff, Zhukov, both drunk, as always. He should get rid of them. They were sitting together the whole day, drinking and daydreaming about their past glory, when they had beaten the Japanese Chernozhopi and the Chinese Chernozhopi... Some new brains were needed in the supreme command; folks that could rationally deal with a changed world.
Old-fashioned war was no longer feasible in a world full of nukes. Not everybody had understood that yet. But Vatutin had. The Turkish Chernozhopi would install their rockets, one would install some rockets in response, and nothing would happen at all... It was a kind of game, an expensive game, but better than hot war. – Well, there might be bush wars still, like this ridiculous affair in Mesoamerica, but war between the major powers had become something else entirely. Russia had what? About two hundred nukes... Germany certainly had just as many. Russia thus could utterly destroy Germany, and Germany could wipe out the European part of Russia. But who would gain from this exercise? It was pure folly...
No, he wouldn't give in to hysteria on the rampage. Let the frigging Turks have their useless toys. These Chernozhopi wouldn't attack Russia, they rather were fearing her. – Vatutin had arrived in the conservatory. The table was set. The soup was smelling deliciously. He grunted in appreciation. Olga, the waitress, was awaiting him, smiling pleasantly. She was trained not to talk his ears off. – Vatutin took place, Olga ladled the soup into the soup bowl, bowed and retired out of sight. Vatutin said a brief prayer. – Yum yum! String beans, back bacon, potatoes and a pig's tail, delicious... Vatutin was happy.
Al elmaya taş atan çok olur. – No enemies is a sign that fortune has forgotten you.
(Turkish proverb)
"Whew! I always knew the Germans are bit dotty," grumbled Grand Vizier Cemal Gürsel Paşa, "but I wasn't aware that they are that crazy." He pointed to the stack of newspapers lying on his desk. "All of Germany seems to be ablaze. How can a peace movement behave so thuggish? They are supposed to let fly white pigeons, not Mexican Cocktails and cobblestones."
"According to my analysts," replied Ferik Kadir Muharip Paşa, "it's a generation conflict. Peace serves as a subterfuge only. If it wasn't peace, they'd find some other pretext for going on the rampage. – It's a typical German thing. Nothing we can do about it..."
"Yeah! But will we get our rockets? The government in Berlin may fall. – Can you imagine the Völkischen in power? It would be a reason to seek an alliance with Russia, indeed..."
"According to my..."
"Alas! Forget your analysts! This may lead to a truly revolutionary situation. The extremists from the right and from the left might be induced to stage a coup..."
"Don't think so, Your Excellency. – Erich Koch, the new DVP boss, is far too pedestrian for any such move. And Erich Mielke of the KPD doesn't have the numbers to see a putsch through, although I have to admit that the chap may have got what it takes."
"Perhaps I should cancel that rocket deal..."
"Wouldn't help, Your Excellency. The genie is out of the bottle. Would only make the Schumacher government look weak."
"May be – or may be not. – I would hate to see something like a revolution happen in Berlin. It's not easy to deal with these frigging socialists, but one eventually gets along. These DVP freaks wouldn't even talk with us. For them, we're impure, sort of subhuman. – And those commies would rather deliver the rockets to their English friends..."
"Your Excellency, as long as the present coalition doesn't break – and there is no indication that it may do so, Germany will not succumb to chaos. The basis of the coalition is too broad. – The crisis will pass..."
"Germany has already succumbed to chaos, young man. – Look at the newspapers. How long can a modern industrial nation carry on under such circumstances?"
"But it's only the major towns, and not even all of them. The countryside isn't affected at all."
"I know Germany isn't France, they are much more decentralised. But when the capital descends into chaos, how long will take for a government to fall?"
"You are too pessimistic, Your Excellency, only looking at the black side. – Schumacher may also emerge strengthened from the crisis. He's a bullhead. – And the peaceniks are kids, most of them..."
"Well, let's hope you're right, young man. – Now, tell me, how's progress of the Teller group? Are they approaching the secret of nuclear fusion? Or are they still guessing?"
(Turkish proverb)
"Whew! I always knew the Germans are bit dotty," grumbled Grand Vizier Cemal Gürsel Paşa, "but I wasn't aware that they are that crazy." He pointed to the stack of newspapers lying on his desk. "All of Germany seems to be ablaze. How can a peace movement behave so thuggish? They are supposed to let fly white pigeons, not Mexican Cocktails and cobblestones."
"According to my analysts," replied Ferik Kadir Muharip Paşa, "it's a generation conflict. Peace serves as a subterfuge only. If it wasn't peace, they'd find some other pretext for going on the rampage. – It's a typical German thing. Nothing we can do about it..."
"Yeah! But will we get our rockets? The government in Berlin may fall. – Can you imagine the Völkischen in power? It would be a reason to seek an alliance with Russia, indeed..."
"According to my..."
"Alas! Forget your analysts! This may lead to a truly revolutionary situation. The extremists from the right and from the left might be induced to stage a coup..."
"Don't think so, Your Excellency. – Erich Koch, the new DVP boss, is far too pedestrian for any such move. And Erich Mielke of the KPD doesn't have the numbers to see a putsch through, although I have to admit that the chap may have got what it takes."
"Perhaps I should cancel that rocket deal..."
"Wouldn't help, Your Excellency. The genie is out of the bottle. Would only make the Schumacher government look weak."
"May be – or may be not. – I would hate to see something like a revolution happen in Berlin. It's not easy to deal with these frigging socialists, but one eventually gets along. These DVP freaks wouldn't even talk with us. For them, we're impure, sort of subhuman. – And those commies would rather deliver the rockets to their English friends..."
"Your Excellency, as long as the present coalition doesn't break – and there is no indication that it may do so, Germany will not succumb to chaos. The basis of the coalition is too broad. – The crisis will pass..."
"Germany has already succumbed to chaos, young man. – Look at the newspapers. How long can a modern industrial nation carry on under such circumstances?"
"But it's only the major towns, and not even all of them. The countryside isn't affected at all."
"I know Germany isn't France, they are much more decentralised. But when the capital descends into chaos, how long will take for a government to fall?"
"You are too pessimistic, Your Excellency, only looking at the black side. – Schumacher may also emerge strengthened from the crisis. He's a bullhead. – And the peaceniks are kids, most of them..."
"Well, let's hope you're right, young man. – Now, tell me, how's progress of the Teller group? Are they approaching the secret of nuclear fusion? Or are they still guessing?"
Very pragmatic of Vatutin. One can only hope his successor follows his lead. He really needs to articulate his theories, put them down in a book.
I do wonder exactly how much the Turks are looking at their growth policies. The Ottoman government is pretty ecologically-minded, learning exactly how much they can get from the land.
Iraq could be a bread basket to feed the region under the right conditions, and I think the prosperity of the Empire represent the right conditions. And with a more prosperous India, that country has a lower population, meaning more agricultural exports in that quarter (though the Turks are competing with East Asian markets, of course).
Do they plan to do anything with these Turkic allies if their home countries have no employment? I'm just imagining like a dastardly phase 2, like creating incentives for the excess populations of Central Asia to resettle in Arabian cities or something. It sounds nuts, but the Empire's been very tightly managed up to this point, and it wouldn't surprise me if they were looking for a way to disunite the Arabian parts of the Empire.
I do wonder exactly how much the Turks are looking at their growth policies. The Ottoman government is pretty ecologically-minded, learning exactly how much they can get from the land.
Iraq could be a bread basket to feed the region under the right conditions, and I think the prosperity of the Empire represent the right conditions. And with a more prosperous India, that country has a lower population, meaning more agricultural exports in that quarter (though the Turks are competing with East Asian markets, of course).
Do they plan to do anything with these Turkic allies if their home countries have no employment? I'm just imagining like a dastardly phase 2, like creating incentives for the excess populations of Central Asia to resettle in Arabian cities or something. It sounds nuts, but the Empire's been very tightly managed up to this point, and it wouldn't surprise me if they were looking for a way to disunite the Arabian parts of the Empire.
Even when many people attempt to travel the same road, there are some who walk and some who stumble.
(Indian proverb)
Although Imperial Chinese Foreign Minister Deng Xixian came to visit Lahore rather frequently, this was the first time that he had spent several days in a row travelling through the Indian Federation. It had been very informative, had provided him food for thought. Actually, he understood better now how the Indians had managed to move up to the top so quickly.
At home, one was undertaking to emancipate the masses – only to discover that just the sheer bulk of these masses was spoiling every effort. It was a frustrating experience. Oh yes, one was making progress, but it was like in one of these strange processions: two steps forward, one step back – and sometimes even two steps back again. Now, as a conscientious socialist, who had learned his trade from the German SPD, Deng didn't doubt the wisdom of this approach.
Those in power in India had an entirely different view: the poor masses were the poor masses, which was what they had always been. Why should anyone want to change this? The poor just had to see how they got along. Emancipating them? Rubbish! – Deng had found out that there were in fact three Indias: the one of the poor, the one of the middle classes – and the real India.
The real India was... – very much like the Europe Deng knew. – Excellent schools and universities, exemplary health service, palatial lodgings. This was the India that was producing state-of-the-art technology and Nobel Prize winners. They provided the leaders in politics, economy and military. – Deng thought that they had just taken over the place and the role of the former British overlords.
The middle class – or were it the middle castes? – India was similar to Japan: hard working people who might become rich, but never could rule. These were the worker bees that kept the cogs turning. They provided skilled labour, administrators, clerks, supervisors, field grade officers and NCOs, engineers, merchants, whatsoever. They were living decently, in general, had acceptable access to health services, could send their children to school.
And then, there was the India of the poor: no organised health care, no compulsory school attendance, lousy accommodations. – These were the folks that populated the countless villages and the urban slums. They formed the vast majority of the Indian people.
Deng had seen that the system worked, that it could produce top performance, but his socialist conviction rebelled against the possibility that China might follow a similar path. No, this was not acceptable. There had to be another way. One simply had to keep trying.
(Indian proverb)
Although Imperial Chinese Foreign Minister Deng Xixian came to visit Lahore rather frequently, this was the first time that he had spent several days in a row travelling through the Indian Federation. It had been very informative, had provided him food for thought. Actually, he understood better now how the Indians had managed to move up to the top so quickly.
At home, one was undertaking to emancipate the masses – only to discover that just the sheer bulk of these masses was spoiling every effort. It was a frustrating experience. Oh yes, one was making progress, but it was like in one of these strange processions: two steps forward, one step back – and sometimes even two steps back again. Now, as a conscientious socialist, who had learned his trade from the German SPD, Deng didn't doubt the wisdom of this approach.
Those in power in India had an entirely different view: the poor masses were the poor masses, which was what they had always been. Why should anyone want to change this? The poor just had to see how they got along. Emancipating them? Rubbish! – Deng had found out that there were in fact three Indias: the one of the poor, the one of the middle classes – and the real India.
The real India was... – very much like the Europe Deng knew. – Excellent schools and universities, exemplary health service, palatial lodgings. This was the India that was producing state-of-the-art technology and Nobel Prize winners. They provided the leaders in politics, economy and military. – Deng thought that they had just taken over the place and the role of the former British overlords.
The middle class – or were it the middle castes? – India was similar to Japan: hard working people who might become rich, but never could rule. These were the worker bees that kept the cogs turning. They provided skilled labour, administrators, clerks, supervisors, field grade officers and NCOs, engineers, merchants, whatsoever. They were living decently, in general, had acceptable access to health services, could send their children to school.
And then, there was the India of the poor: no organised health care, no compulsory school attendance, lousy accommodations. – These were the folks that populated the countless villages and the urban slums. They formed the vast majority of the Indian people.
Deng had seen that the system worked, that it could produce top performance, but his socialist conviction rebelled against the possibility that China might follow a similar path. No, this was not acceptable. There had to be another way. One simply had to keep trying.
There are no eternal facts, as there are no absolute truths.
(Friedrich Nietzsche)
General von Bauer chose the New Year Reception for the corps diplomatique on Friday, January 14th, 1950, for publicly inviting President Patton to a visit of the West African Union. – Until then, the State Department had still been dragging their feet, trying to keep the whole affair off the record. And because the WAU was supplying 'advisers' to the ongoing ferment in the Ashanti Territory, they now were urgently counselling to put the invitation on the back burner. But that approach would not fly with George S. Patton. – And so, the diplomatic machinery was clanking into action with a vengeance.
Foreign minister Asa Philip Randolph, who – together with US Ambassador Raphael O’Hara Lanier – had worked out the stunt of the official invitation, was – of course – hit by the workload in the first place. Lanier was quickly recalled to Washington, as the President wanted to be briefed first hand – and a tentative visit date in June was already floated in Deygbo. – Otto Ohlendorf, the successor of the deceased Reinhard Heydrich as security chief, another precious specialist lent by EVEG, was all of a dither. The US President! Good grief! But his initial proposal to evacuate Deygbo – just to be on the safe side – was promptly rebuffed.
To Randolph's surprise, positive signals were received from Daressalam. As the Patton visit was – tentatively – due at the time when the hot phase of the national electoral campaign started, one would be busy in another way. Therefore, Middle Africa would not issue an invitation. – However, it might be possible – under certain circumstances – that Chancellor Mwaya was – incidentally – visiting Deygbo at the time of the presidential visit. – Whereupon Ohlenorf was throwing up his hands in despair.
The Old Man, who was about to celebrate his eighty-first birthday on January 31st, was said to be in candid mood. Things were progressing well. The TAW had been the midwife of the Protectorate; the Amis had been formidable opponents, who had actively assisted in getting the Protectorate going. It was time to bury the hatchet and to shake hands.
(Friedrich Nietzsche)
General von Bauer chose the New Year Reception for the corps diplomatique on Friday, January 14th, 1950, for publicly inviting President Patton to a visit of the West African Union. – Until then, the State Department had still been dragging their feet, trying to keep the whole affair off the record. And because the WAU was supplying 'advisers' to the ongoing ferment in the Ashanti Territory, they now were urgently counselling to put the invitation on the back burner. But that approach would not fly with George S. Patton. – And so, the diplomatic machinery was clanking into action with a vengeance.
Foreign minister Asa Philip Randolph, who – together with US Ambassador Raphael O’Hara Lanier – had worked out the stunt of the official invitation, was – of course – hit by the workload in the first place. Lanier was quickly recalled to Washington, as the President wanted to be briefed first hand – and a tentative visit date in June was already floated in Deygbo. – Otto Ohlendorf, the successor of the deceased Reinhard Heydrich as security chief, another precious specialist lent by EVEG, was all of a dither. The US President! Good grief! But his initial proposal to evacuate Deygbo – just to be on the safe side – was promptly rebuffed.
To Randolph's surprise, positive signals were received from Daressalam. As the Patton visit was – tentatively – due at the time when the hot phase of the national electoral campaign started, one would be busy in another way. Therefore, Middle Africa would not issue an invitation. – However, it might be possible – under certain circumstances – that Chancellor Mwaya was – incidentally – visiting Deygbo at the time of the presidential visit. – Whereupon Ohlenorf was throwing up his hands in despair.
The Old Man, who was about to celebrate his eighty-first birthday on January 31st, was said to be in candid mood. Things were progressing well. The TAW had been the midwife of the Protectorate; the Amis had been formidable opponents, who had actively assisted in getting the Protectorate going. It was time to bury the hatchet and to shake hands.