Jiyu Banzai! A Japanese Timeline

The Chinese Great Game

The Chinese Great Game​


The Fujian Government’s retreat took them into the interior, away from the coastline where the Regency Navy reigned supreme. Capturing Shaoguan on July 19, the Fujian army would receive an emissary from Nie Hongzhang, the governor of Guangdong. An ally of the Fajia, Nie disapproved of Hu Ruoyu’s replacement of Zhang Mingqi and agreed with the governor of Guangxi, Tang Jiyao, that the New Nanjing Clique needed to be opposed. His emissary gave the Fujian Government a map and a simple statement: Follow the allotted path and take part in several mock battles, and the governors of the Southwest would help them on their march to the Vietnamese border. With the Fujian Government viewed as a non-threat, it was deemed that humiliating Ruoyu was worth allowing an enemy force to escape unmolested. Song Jiaoren, with little hope of keeping his forces now swollen with untested volunteers cohesive otherwise, accepted. Although still engaging in reconnaissance to avoid walking into a trap, Jiaoren’s forces would begin traveling the rural areas of southern China on their march toward the safety of Vietnam.
Ruoyu would be left unaware of this effort with his attention directed elsewhere. Relying on the pursuing forces and local military formations to either slow down or halt Jiaoren, he concentrated on the invasion of Taiwan. Coordinating with Admiral Lin Baoyi, he would land an initial force of 2,000 men to the west of Taichung on July 24 and swiftly capture the city itself the following day against token resistance. A massive sealift effort, utilizing rotating ship crews, would see 50,000 men swarm Taiwan over the next 10 days, massively outnumbering Chiang Zhiqing’s forces and spreading out across the island. Zhiqing, after failing to check Ruoyu’s advance at the Battle of Chiayi, would abandon conventional warfare and go to ground, attempting to keep his forces intact for a future revolt rather than squandering them in an unwinnable battle. Although Ruoyu’s forces would continue to search for Zhiqing, Taiwan was officially declared secure on August 14.
With Taiwan subdued, Ruoyu turned his full attention to pursuing Jiaoren. Still receiving intelligence from the southwest governors and scouting parties, Ruoyu would frustrate Jiaoren’s efforts to outfox him and decisively break contact. Redeploying 20,000 men to Nanning as Jiaoren entered Guangxi, Ruoyu moved to wipe out his enemy. Although the deployed forces were mainly light infantry, they threatened to cut line of retreat for the exhausted Fujian forces and tie them up long enough for the rest of Ruoyu’s forces to slam into them from behind. The two would clash at the Battle of Dafengzhen on September 30, 80 kilometers north of Nanning. Fujian forces would break through after a fierce four-day battle in which the utilization of Japanese infantry mortars proved to be decisive. Even with the victory, Ruoyu’s gambit had succeeded in slowing down Jiaoren and drawing him into the Battle of Baise.
Ruoyu would catch Jiaoren’s forces attempting to cross the Youjiang River near the town of Baise after local Tuanlian destroyed all bridges, and would quickly begin operations to disrupt them. Although Jiaoren was able to hold off Ruoyu for two days as his inexperienced troops attempted to get their equipment across, the arrival of Ruoyu’s artillery threw the entire situation into chaos. The army, whittled down to 25,000 men after the grueling march and the battle at Dafengzhen, barely held together as men and women threw themselves into the river and swam across, abandoning their equipment and belongings. By the time Ruoyu’s men launched their attack, only 12,000 had managed to cross. The remainder, trapped against the river, either scattered or attempted a desperate last stand to buy their comrades on the other side time to escape. Although they would succeed, the Fujian Government was a mere shadow of what it once was. Three days later on November 2, the Fujian Government would cross the border into Vietnam’s mountainous Cao Bang Province, where local forces would intern them.

Contrary to the hopes of the Minquan, Ruoyu’s failure to destroy Jiaoren completely did little to dent his prestige. His rapid destruction of both the Fujian Government and Chiang Zhiqing’s rebellion would cause Yan Jang to praise him, granting him the newly-established rank of Marshal of China, making him second only to Yan Jang himself in the Army’s hierarchy. Some feared that this was a prelude to Ruoyu being declared Jang’s official successor, and began to plan accordingly.
These men would find ready allies among the high command, many of whom had fought for the Regency during the Civil War and who deeply resented the raising of a “turncoat” over them. In particular, General Ma Fuxiang was furious at the perceived snubbing. Fuxiang, who had served under General Dong Fuxiang and joined the Regency’s military when his commander had, had been in charge of Regency armies at the Battle of Baoding. Despite being responsible for the victory that proved China was the equal of the West and his continued excellence during the rest of the war, he had received scant more than a ceremonial title and a pay increase as recompense. Fuxiang, burning with jealousy and resentment, would make it his goal to bring down Ruoyu and the Chinese Reconstruction Society. With him he would bring much of the Northwest, where the Ma Clique held much sway.
The New Nanjing Clique was aware of their growing opposition, and moved to secure new allies of their own. Minister of Revenues H H Kung was approached with the offer of an extremely lucrative arms contract for the establishment of the Chinese Air Force, in addition to reassigning contracts from pro-Fajia businessmen to Kung’s friends and allies. Promising numerous economic concessions, such as loosening China’s nascent safety regulations, would see the New Nanjing Clique gain many allies among the Western Outreach Society.
The growing ties between the New Nanjing Clique and China’s monied classes would cause a growing strain in the Clique itself. The Chinese Revolutionary Committee became increasingly concerned that the Clique was betraying the Chinese people while simultaneously opening the door to foreign influences. Tan Sitong, the de facto leader of the Committee due to his long service with the Old Clique, moved to soothe the growing divide by meeting with the influential Minister of Foreign Affairs Yan Xiang on February 8, 1927. Although the meeting would see Yan pledge himself to keeping foreigners out of Chinese affairs, the growing rift inside the Clique was unable to be completely painted over.

Even as the power struggle enveloped the Chinese government, its rule continued. In Nanjing, the government began the construction of the Capital Sector, an area stretching over 20 square kilometers and intended to be the beating heart of China’s government. To supplement this, a new series of reforms were announced for the Examination Yuan and several universities explicitly to train bureaucrats were established. In a masterstroke of maneuvering, the Fajia School were able to ensure that the administration for the majority of the universities were supporters, dealing a deathblow to the hope that they would soon fade out of relevancy.
As part of the construction of this new sector, Nanjing’s haphazard public transportation would face a massive overhaul, with a city-wide metro breaking ground in June 1926 and the modernization of old roads to support multiple bus routes. Both would connect with a new series of apartment complexes designed to hold 300,000 people. Other major cities, such as Taiyuan, Xi’an, and Guangzhou, would have their own projects reflecting the development of Nanjing.
These vast projects could only be supported by the rapidly expanding Chinese economy. Built off the post-demobilization surge of soldiers awash with cash and removal of most internal barriers, the Chinese economy boomed with a 3% annual growth rate well into the late 1920s when growth finally slowed down. With the stability brought by the reassertion of the Regency’s supremacy, foreign investment flowed in uncontested while government projects on a truly national scale could finally be implemented. The construction of new dams along the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers, unification of the national railway gauge, expansion of port facilities, and construction of new infrastructure, the last of which would ironically aid in the Fujian Government’s escape, would further stimulate the Chinese economy through direct investment and more directly connecting the nation’s farmers to their markets in the cities.
Coupled with a final push to eradicate opium usage in Central China, this Golden Decade would see Chinese life expectancy and quality of life rise and the cementing of the Regency’s popularity even as rebellion continued to rage in Fujian and central authority remained limited along the fringes. Hailed as a callback to the reforms of the Tongzhi Emperor and Li Hongzhang that had restored the famine relief system and improved the lot of millions of Chinese, for the first years of the decade the average citizen could care less about the political struggles of the government. Even as the rush of goodwill began to recede in the second half of the 1920s, the Chinese people remained supportive even as the seeds of future discontent were laid in wildcat strikes, concerns about growing land estates, and the requisition of land for government projects.
 
The Devil's Chosen

The Devil's Chosen​


Unlike what most civilians would assume, life in the Army, even during the Franco-German War, was mostly one of boredom. Soldiers deployed along the frontlines or on patrol deep in the Algerian wilderness had little in the way of entertainment as they performed rote tasks day in and day out. Even with the sheer terror of a sudden artillery barrage from German lines or the night raids of Berber tribes, the most common complaint in letters to family members and friends was boredom. President Roland Beaumont, a former common soldier himself, was well aware of this and ordered the creation of mass-produced games to keep troops occupied.
One such game was poker. Utilizing French-suited cards, the military would procure hundreds of thousands of decks and distribute them to soldiers over the early 1900s. Designed to double as a propaganda poster, the cards came with unique prints showing off French soldiers for the Hearts suit, Vietnamese soldiers for the Diamonds, Berbers for the Clubs, and the Vietnamese Cần Vương rebels for the Spades. Number cards, along with the ace, displayed different soldiers, including infantry, grenadiers, artillerymen, cavalry, etc. while face cards showed different towns representing the region each suite was based on. The surprisingly stylish artwork would make them popular as keepsakes among soldiers, but most would continue to prefer games like chess or the recently invented board game Revolution!, which saw players competing to complete the most objectives during the Second French Revolution, to the playing cards.
This situation would change during the Franco-German War as soldiers, no longer in areas where they could set aside a board and come back several hours later to it being unmolested due to the omnipresence of artillery, looked for a game that was quick to set up and easy to keep straight. Initially utilizing many different card games, more imaginative soldiers would begin experimenting with their colorful cards for a new way to play.
Little is known about the origins game that would become known as The Devil’s Chosen. The first reference to it comes from a French military paper along the Rhineland Front in 1916, which referred to it as “a quaint experiment by soldiers with no outlets for their creativity,” although no reference to the rules or how it was played was present in the article. What is known is that by 1917, a set of rules and playstyles had solidified as the game became more and more popular among the soldiers, with the first known “rule book” being published in a newspaper near Strasbourg on April 18, 1917. While still known by many different names, the “rule book’s” decision to refer to the game as The Devil’s Chosen would help standardize naming conventions until it became the accepted name by the post-war period.
The Devil’s Chosen broke up the decks given out to the soldiers into four smaller decks, each representing a suite, or, as the game refers to them as, a “faction.” Each faction holds a unique ability, with the various soldiers on the cards representing the card’s abilities. Face cards represent “supply hubs”, which control the amount of cards a player can use each turn. Jokers represent the “commanders” that each player must protect. At the start of a game, each player selects two factions they wish to play with, adds 1 supply hub from each to their hand, shuffles the remaining cards of their chosen factions (each kept in their own decks), and sets the remaining cards to the side. Each player takes a turn, with the turn player drawing a card from either deck and, if they have enough unused supply, being able to “tap” a supply depot and “deploy” a soldier to the field or can “set up” a supply depot if they drew one. Both players take turns attempting to damage their opponent’s army enough until their commander is sufficiently unprotected, allowing for a direct attack and victory.
Initial play strategy was simple. Wartime patriotism made it an unspoken rule that the French and Vietnamese would play against the Berbers and Cần Vương in a socialist versus reactionary game. Games were often determined by who drew each faction’s strongest cards and enough supply to deploy them, limiting tactical gameplay. In particular, the French and Vietnamese would often win due to the French emphasis on attacking and the Vietnamese emphasis on amassing supplies while the Berber focus on mobility and the Cần Vương’s focus on survivability meant they were often unable to overcome the brute force of their opponents.

The turning point in the game’s history, both strategically and organizationally, would occur in the aftermath of the Treaty of Brussels as France finally demobilized. Among the hundreds of thousands of returning soldiers was Ernest Cadine, a young man who had taken an immense interest in The Devil’s Chosen during his time in the trenches, often organizing tournaments and pestering his regiment’s quartermasters about if new playing card prints had been released. Upon returning home, he and his wife Susanne would open a board game shop and gain authorial rights for The Devil’s Chosen from the French government. Commissioning new artwork for a new run of cards, Cadine would begin selling the game in Paris on a test basis. The test would prove successful and would soon spread nationwide as veterans sought out the game that had kept them occupied during the War and spread it to those they knew.
While initially content with simply keeping the game alive, Cadine would become entranced by the idea of improving and expanding it. Alongside announcing the release of four new factions, the Germans, British, Madhists, and Koreans, Cadine organized a nationwide tournament with a cash prize of 2,000 francs for the winner, with further prizes for everyone who made it into the top 100. Although many would denounce Cadine’s move as something he did not have the authority to do, seeing as the game was not made by him, tens of thousands would purchase the new factions and kickstart a host of discussions and experimentation on discovering the ideal combinations of factions. The 1923 National Tournament for The Devil’s Chosen would see nearly 8,000 players, including two Luxembourgers and 18 Belgians, compete in tens of thousands of games before a single winner was declared. Soon growing to an international scale, the tournament would galvanize the nascent German player base to organize and strike out.
How The Devil’s Chosen first came to Germany is unknown, but there are two prevailing theories: the first, and most popular among anti-war advocates, involves a group of French and German soldiers finding themselves trapped in a dugout during an artillery barrage. One of the Germans, an Alsatian, served as a translator and negotiated a truce between the groups, facilitating communications until one of the French soldiers pulled out a deck and offered to teach the Germans how to play. By the time the artillery barrage had ended and the groups could return to their lines, the two had managed to play several games. The French gifted the Germans three decks as a sign of goodwill, with the Germans introducing their comrades back at their lines. The second, more likely but more boring, is simply that German POWs learned the game in captivity by playing with their guards before bringing it back home upon their release.
Regardless of its origins, the game would manage to gain a cult following in Germany among those who could overlook its French origins. Initially played in a series of homebrews that rarely fully aligned with the official rules, the German veteran organization Bund der West-Rheinlander (BdWR; League of West Rhinelanders) organized its own tournament in response to the French. Taking place in March 1924 in Hamburg, the Hamburg Tournament would help standardize German play along French lines and would be attended by nearly 2,000 players. Introducing their own new factions, the Russians and Ottomans, the Hamburg Tournament would be a massive success for the German community, but would draw the ire of the French.
The origins of the Card Game Crisis (although both France and Germany had official names, the Cadine Incident and the False Theft Accusation respectively, the name Card Game Crisis would become the preferred term outside of official and nationalist circles as a partial mockery of how seriously both nations took such a frivolous matter) came from the BdWR’s decision to copyright The Devil’s Chosen in Germany under the name Landerkommando and begin publishing it through the newly-created company Soldatenbund. While Ernest Cadine preferred to settle the affair behind closed doors, as he felt affinity for fellow veterans who had come to love the same game he had, the French government, eager to prop up its domestic image amidst continuing political instability, charged the BdWR with Theft of Labor under French law and demanded Germany extradite its leadership. The Germans, naturally, refused.
The French government would attempt to find supporters internationally, but with its recent invasion of Germany and increasing antagonism towards the nations it deemed as “key to the capitalist system”, its calls would be met with silence or extremely muted support. Even its allies in Spain and Italy would barely comment on the occurrence, instead suggesting international arbitration. France would instead respond by mobilizing the 23e Division Légion Mécanique opposite of Dusseldorf and once again demanded Germany hand over the BdWR’s leadership. The German 4. Armee under General Franz Ritter von Epp would respond by mobilizing several regiments and setting up barricades near the Rhine in Dusseldorf’s streets in addition to sighting artillery against French positions. With neither Paris nor Berlin willing to actually take the step back to war, diplomats began scrambling to determine how to settle the affair.
Unhappy with how the crisis was proceeding, Cadine would publically invite the top 24 players from both the National Tournament and the Hamburg Tournament, as well as the BdWR’s leadership, to participate in a good-will tournament utilizing factions released in both France and Germany in neutral, if increasingly pro-German, Amsterdam. After Cadine agreed to cover the transportation and lodging costs of all involved, 43 of the invited players would attend alongside select members of the BdWR. The event would draw the attention of the French, German, and Dutch governments, who would all dispatch representatives to keep an eye on proceedings and ensure the tournament goers would not do anything that would reflect badly on their respective nations. A German player, Karl Artelt, would win the tournament with the unorthodox pairing of France and Russia, and with it a grand prize of 1,000 Reichsmarks.
The Card Game Crisis would reach its conclusion at the Amsterdam Tournament, with Cadine and the BdWR coming to an agreement that Landerkommando would merge with The Devil’s Chosen, and that Cadine would gain a 20% stake in Soldatenbund, a stake that would be managed by the BdWR. As part of this merger, both parties would agree about any new factions before publishing them and would publish them within the same time frame. After receiving permission from both the French and German representatives for the agreement, a first in Franco-German economic relations, the two would draw up and sign a contract formalizing the terms. With the original charge now rendered void by the BdWR receiving direct permission from Cadine, the French government would reluctantly withdraw their case.

Despite the rocky start to the relationship between the German and French communities, The Devil’s Chosen would continue to receive support from both nations, with the Card Game Crisis introducing it to thousands who otherwise had never heard of it. While most tournaments would top out at the national level, an international tournament held by Cadine and Soldatenbund in Zurich would become an annual affair. The tournament would also serve as a hub for Franco-German diplomacy, as diplomats could gather without drawing attention. For the two states’ volatile relations, which often involved outright hostility and officially cutting diplomatic ties, these backroom opportunities would prove key to avoiding crises and negotiating compromises that could not be done in public. On the opposite side of the coin, it would also serve as a chance for espionage, especially after the declaration of the Social Republic of Germany in 1925.
 
Yeah, but that's soccer. I don't do the sport, but I can understand why people are dedicated.

But a card game?
Well the Football War was more the culmination of tensions between the two countries, with violence relating to the game being the catalyst rather than the cause. Here it's similar, with France simply using the game as an excuse to get into a spat with Germany and distract from their home troubles (and as we'll see in the next chapter, France post-war has a lot of home troubles). This is shown both by how pretty much everyone uses a mocking name for the crisis and the French chargers brought against the BdWR. In the Social Republic, Theft of Labor is one of the highest crimes you can be charged with. If France was to roll into a country and abolish slavery, they'd charge former slave owners with Theft of Labor (alongside some other charges such as False Imprisonment) before executing them. They went above and beyond because the point wasn't defending the rights of the author, it was creating a crisis so they could look tough.
 
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