Prussia - A Kaliningrad Story (Post WWII USSR Timeline)

[Remitonov]

Hey! This is my first attempt at making a plausible timeline, so do correct me if some parts don't seem that way. Constructive criticism is always welcome. Also, the next one will take a long time, so sorry if I don't respond soon. Special thanks to those who responded in my previous WI threads on the subject, and on related and duplicate WI topics. Also, I know there's another thread running on the same premise, but I feel like making my own take on it.

Anyway, without further delay...

Prussia - A Kaliningrad Story (1945-Present)
A Post-WWII Timeline
Playing: Gundam: The Origin - Main Theme - composed by Takayuki Hattori

Content

• Prologue: Liberation (here)
• Chapter I: Trophy
• Chapter II: Maverick
  • Part 1
  • Part 2
  • Part 3
• Interlude I: Faces
• Chapter III: Dream
  • Part 1
  • Part 2
  • Part 3
  • Part 4 (Preview | Main)
• Interlude II: Family
• Chapter IV: Voices
  • Part 1
  • Part 2 (Preview | Main)
  • Part 3
  • Part 4
  • Part 5 (Preview | Main)
• Interlude III: Legacy
  
• Chapter V: People
  • Part 1 (Russians)
  • Part 2 (Russians) (Preview | Main)
• Interlude IV: Amber - Economics of Prussia
• Chapter V (Continued)
  • Part 3 (Poles) (Preview | Main)
  • Part 4 (Poles)
• Chapter VI: Bloodlines (Germans)
  • Part 1
  • Part 2
  • Part 3
  • Part 4
  • Part 5
• Interlude V: Engagement
• Interlude VI: Legend
• Chapter VII: Song (Finnic peoples)
  • Part 1
  • Part 2
  • Part 3
  • Part 4
  • Part 5
  • Part 6
  • Part 7
  • Part 8
• Interlude VII: Brotherhood (Yugoslavs)
  • Part 1
  • Part 2

• Omake
  • Banishing the Red Ghosts: De-Sovietization of place names in Prussia
  • Journey to Rio: Prussia's Olympic Team in the XXXI Olympics opening ceremony in Rio de Janerio
  • Tuva: The Forgotten Steppes - A brief history of Tuva
• Information
  • Politics and Government
  • Schools
  • Demographics
  • Rank Table by kyuzoaoi
  • Prussian Navy Uniform Designs by kyuzoaoi
  • Football Clubs by @Neoteros
  • Anthem: Ostpreußenlied - composed by Herbert Brust
• Side Timeline (ASB): Girls und Panzer: The Masked Turk

______________________________________​

Baltic Fleet HQ, Kaliningrad, West Baltic SSR [1], Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
21st August, 1991

Kaliningrad, home of the Soviet Baltic Fleet of the USSR.

Half a century ago, the city that was to bear the name of the wartime president of the USSR was a German city, with a name that exuded everything Germanic about its seven hundred year long past,. It was a name the Soviet government believed wiped from the map forever, after taking the territory for themselves as a spoil of war in the Great Patriotic War. After which, Kaliningrad and its surrounding area was rebuilt as a Soviet port, flooded by immigrants from the rest of the Soviet Unon, most from Russian-speaking areas. However, no amount of machinations performed on the city in the name of socialist realization had exorcised the ghosts of old Königsberg. Rather, looking into the city now, there were many who felt that they had, at last, advanced in full force, as the union reached its grim, inevitable twilight.

It was a surreal sight for the garrison, barricaded in front of hordes of protesters marching forward to confront them. For some, having been forced to withdraw from Lithuania in January the previous year, seeing Russian slogans interspaced with Prussian flags while demanding their expulsion was hypocrisy at its highest. The protesters were not ethnic nationalists. Many were Russophones, even ethnic Russians, almost all of whom would have family ties with the homeland. And yet, seeing the slogan 'Free Kyonigsberg' painted in Cyrillic on their signs, it felt a lot like they were possessed by Prussian ghosts, out to reclaim the city in for their Teutonic brethren. This was not a call for democracy like the Yeltsinski mobs. They want Moscow out.

Looking beside the barricade as the protesters, a bewildered guard shook his head in disbelief at the sights. He was sure had anyone told him a few years ago that this would happen, he would have assumed he had lost it. Now, he was sure he was the one going mad instead. He would have expected this had he been in the other Baltic SSRs, but Kaliningrad was as Russian as Russia itself, and yet they now threaten to break away like the rest.

“This is insane,” the hapless man remarked to one of his comrades, his AK-74 held down in his hands, “not even NATO could create this. They're possessed, I tell you! Germaniye ghosts, the lot of them!”

“Get a grip, boy,” grumbled the elder, more gruff soldier, still holding his position behind a barricade ready to fire, “these aren't ghosts. Our world's going south, and they want to jump ship. The only thing left to do is watch everything burn. Only question is, who burns first?”

The coup had become a dangerous trigger, with events escalating beyond their control. The commanders of the garrison did not know who to answer, whether it was the detained secretary general or the radicals in control of the Moscow White House. It would not have taken much just to send in the tanks, as the Chinese had done in Tiananmen. But force at this point was ineffective without proper command, and none of the guards holed up in the HQ were sure the ground they were on had any intention to remain Soviet anymore. After all, while many in the West Baltic SSR voted in favour of Gorbachev's proposed Union State, the turnout was barely in the mid 30s to 40s percentage [2]. Most boycotted the proceedings as a sham, intent on independence as their only answer. The ruling Novaya Prussiya (Russian: Новая Пруссия, New Prussia) party, for one, apparently believed it to be the case.

But the results of the soldiers' predicamented extended beyond Gorbachev's troubled reforms. A representation of the messy social experiments conducted during the Khrushchev period in developing the 'international' city, Kaliningrad was stacked full of ethnicites throughout the USSR, some of whom were simply tossed there without approval. Converted from a 'military-governed district' established by Stalin after the Great Patriotic War, Kaliningrad Oblast, and later West Baltic SSR mutated under the whims of his successor, bought by an ambitious commissar's promises of a multi-ethnic, socialist utopia to put the segregationist United States to shame [3]. Today, the divisive demographics of the SSR showed, now united in their ire for the central government, and bouyed by a spike in interest in Prussian intellectual history and culture. One could only imagine what went through the late premiers' minds when they led their descendants into this predicament, from the city's separation from civilian rule under Stalin, to the transmogrification of its identity into the Teutonic spectre it is today.

Soon, voices cracked in the radioes of the crewmen as the noise from the protester began to mutate into cheers. It was the voice of the West Baltic parliament. The die was cast.

“...persuant to current crisis surrounding the state coup in the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, on August 19 of the Year 1991 of the Common Era; and in accordance to the will of the people of the Soviet Socialist Republic of the West Baltic, the Supreme Soviet of the West Baltic SSR hereby advocate the right of separation under Article 72 of the Constitution of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, henceforth implementing the Act of Declaration of Independence of the Republic of the West Baltic, in separation from the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics as a sovereign, independent nation-state...”

This was no longer the beginning of the end, and those cornered within the base could now see their ignoramous departure in sight. Like the other Baltic states, the West Baltic republic would continue its drift to the European sphere, though its birth was unlike the forcible incorporation of its sisters during the chaos of war. In many respects, the West Baltic was comparatively loyal to Moscow, not the least since it had no defining national identity at the start. But what sucked this otherwise loyal entity of the Soviet state into the hysteria of the Baltic Way at the end? What inspired its people to take on the mantle of the much-demonized Teutonic Knights and the Baltic Old Prussians before it? What created Prussia as the world saw it today? The answer, perhaps, laid at the beginning, as the burning embers of fascism and Ostsiedlung were being snuffed out in Königsberg...

______________________________________​

1. In real life, Kaliningrad was a part of the Russian SFSR, now Russia. However, this TL will explore how that changed, starting with the first chapter
2. In OTL, the Soviet referendum for the formation of the Union of Sovereign Republics did get an overwhelming 'yes' vote, even in the remaining states that didn't boycott it. In the West Baltic SSR's case, the boycott didn't hit it especially badly, and plenty of Russophones voted 'yes'. This divide will be explored in greater detail in later chapters, and how it would plague West Baltic politics post-USSR.
3. Later chapters.

 

[Neoteros]

Слава Пруссии

 

[Zek Sora]

I like it! Definitely subscribed.

 

[galileo-034]

Looks promising.

 

[Alex Richards]

Well, this looks interesting.

 

[Turquoise Blue]

The old Kings look on this in bewilderment, and yet, pride.

Excellent start. I look forward to the chronicle of the long and tumultous rebirth of Prussia.

 

[Remitonov]

The old Kings look on this in bewilderment, and yet, pride.

Excellent start. I look forward to the chronicle of the long and tumultous rebirth of Prussia.

Well, this looks interesting.

Looks promising.

I like it! Definitely subscribed.

Слава Пруссии

Thanks all! There's going to be a lot of questions as to how new Prussia takes shape, in particular, how German can it be with a population that is now anything but.

But first, (alternate) history lesson. First chapter will cover the end of old Prussia at the hands of the Man of Steel. :O

 

[galileo-034]

Actually, I also began a TL series about 'countries that almost were', little regions of world with potential to become independent nations. I had planned about Alaska and Taiwan with PODs in 19th and 17th centuries, but I totally missed that one.
That's great, and I feel I already love the TL.

 

[Remitonov]

Actually, I also began a TL series about 'countries that almost were', little regions of world with potential to become independent nations. I had planned about Alaska and Taiwan with PODs in 19th and 17th centuries, but I totally missed that one.
That's great, and I feel I already love the TL.

Ah, thank you!

To be honest, one PoD alone might not be able to do much to improve Kaliningrad's chances. Certainly, OTL's situation (as a Russian oblast, not even an ASSR) already made that possibility moot. But every small change will build on that chance. Glad to have you on board. :3

 

[galileo-034]

Ah, thank you!

To be honest, one PoD alone might not be able to do much to improve Kaliningrad's chances. Certainly, OTL's situation (as a Russian oblast, not even an ASSR) already made that possibility moot. But every small change will build on that chance. Glad to have you on board. :3

Don't worry. One thing I've learnt when planning my Alyaska TL is the author's privilege. Chances of something happening the way you decided may be slim, providen you make it plausible enough to readers, it would always be your right as a literary licence. After all, let's have fun while writing it.

 

[Remitonov]

Don't worry. One thing I've learnt when planning my Alyaska TL is the author's privilege. Chances of something happening the way you decided may be slim, providen you make it plausible enough to readers, it would always be your right as a literary licence. After all, let's have fun while writing it.

No problem. :3

 

[Zek Sora]

Don't worry. One thing I've learnt when planning my Alyaska TL is the author's privilege. Chances of something happening the way you decided may be slim, providen you make it plausible enough to readers, it would always be your right as a literary licence. After all, let's have fun while writing it.

You're planning an Alyaska TL?

Huh, there's a coincidence.

 

[garabik]

grammar na^W, eh, comrade

Novvy Prussiya

nitpick: that's ungrammatical, Prussia is feminine. Novaya Prussia.

 

[galileo-034]

You're planning an Alyaska TL?

Huh, there's a coincidence.

I've been planning, but now it is on before 1900 forum : https://www.alternatehistory.com/Discussion/showthread.php?t=359068

 

[Remitonov]

nitpick: that's ungrammatical, Prussia is feminine. Novaya Prussia.

Ah, apologies. I'll fix that, thanks.

 

[Remitonov]

Remember when I said I won't get this up after a long time? I finished it in a day.

For that you get new title! Really just a translated one, but the characters took some time to render

___________________________________

Immanuel Kant State University of Kyonigsberg [1], Kyonigsberg, Republic of Prussia
12 January, 2016 C.E.

Kyonigsberg, Prussia.

Twenty-five years after the chaotic breakup of the Soviet Union, Prussia, as the reconstituted West Baltic Republic is now known, is an anarchronism in time. Despite claiming the legacy that extends back to the rise of the Teutonic Knights, virtually none of its citizens originated from the former German Empire; recent migrants from the former Soviet Union during its tenure as a communist domain. Yet, these contradictions had played a vital role in building a national identity in the small, fragile state. As Putinist Russia terrorized its former vassals with separatist sponsorship and covert invasions, Duma representatives chafed at trying to explain how millions of Russian-speakers, supposedly the very people Moscow claims to protect, openly reject their forced paternalism with a level of prosperity and clean governance unseen in their old motherland.

Much worse, these people live under the aegis of the European Union and the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, far safer from Moscow's harassment than other, ill-fated former Soviet states. Most importantly, Prussia represents a conundrum for Kremlin's policymakers over its foreign policy; while the warm-water port was a much prized possession that seemed quite in reach compared to the other vehemently anti-Russian Baltic states, Russia could never hope to claim the area to be 'centuries-old Russian lands' as they had elsewhere, for it had nothing genuinely Russian to answer for but a brief period of governance during the Seven Years' War [2]. All that was common knowledge, for both the population and its government, the Prussian Seym [3]. As the world around them grows under threat from belligerent states and rogue terrorist insurrections, Prussia could only prepare for the worst, and live a life of normalcy in total defiance of expectation.

On the snowswept garden in front of the Albertina, the students of the Immanuel Kant State University of Kyonigsberg [1] were just arriving back for their first week in semester. The sour mood over the end of the Christmas season last week still lingered in the air, as the depression of returning to a semester of learning filled the young men and women with dread [4]. But a lecture hall within the campus was expecting a slightly... younger class of students.

“Say, is it true you're going to Seoul for a pop idol career,” a young girl squealed to her classmate, dressed in a beige high school uniform with a pleated skirt, “I wish I could sing like you.”

“But don't you have to know Korean when you get there,” another asked, “I mean, if all you can speak is Russian, the locals will laugh at you.”

“Do I look that shortsighted to you,” gloated the idol wannabe in question, twirling the fringes of her long raven hair on her finger as her admirers peppered her with questioned, “I've been attending a Korean language course. Besides, it's not like my parents would take 'no' for an answer. They've been hoping I could work in Korea for a while, as well as cultural roots and stuff.”

“Wow,” blurted one of the girls in awe, “I didn't know they were so supportive of your music career!”

To her dismay, the young raven-haired girl could only force a smile, muttering, “well... If it pays well, why not... Not like my parents would have wanted me to...”

“Everyone, hurry up,” a snappy call in the distance soon echoed, a brunette girl with shoulder length hair barking at the mob of girls, “we're going to late. Do you want to make the professor mad? It's our first day!”

“Calm down, Student President,” whined the diva, eyeing the schoolmate with a slight scowl, “it's not like we're in school. Besides, what's so exciting about an old man with a huge beard groaning on local history? It's not like we haven't heard the stories already.”

Feeling put off by the blunt response, the class president could only grumble under her breath, “at least show the poor grandfather some respect, will you? This is a university...” Despite her best hopes, the class president could not hope to see any improvement in her class' behaviour, an embarassment not only in front of the lecturer, but the other schools participating.

Stepping into the lecture hall, she could already see a myriad of uniforms dotting the length of the desks. A holdover from Soviet times, many schools in the country still had school uniforms, including her own. Some, like her school, had already made the switch to more European styles. Others, however, still wore Soviet-era navy-inspired designs, though adherence to orthodox dress codes had also begun to vary with years. Overall, the palette of colours showed just how large these excursions to the university was. In fact, the social studies project they were taking was to mean much more than grades.

“See, Farah,” Yana told off the hasty girl, shuffling beside her as the class began to filter in to take their seats with their peers, “teacher's not here yet. He's late. Probably overslept in his office or something.”

“Then shouldn't we try to call him,” questioned the senior, “it's no good to keep everyone waiting.”

“Do you even know his office then,” Yana griped, agitation growing on her expression, “Farah, this university is big. How are you supposed to find this Professor Stefanovsky in short time-”

“Sorry,” blurted a more mature voice behind them, in a rather rushed tone, “apologies for the wait.”

Shuffling past the surprised girls at the door was a fairly young man with shoulder-length, platinum blonde hair, dressed in a white collared shirt and pants as he carried his laptop in in a hurry. Up in the stands, a small swoon could be heard as the various high school girls whispered among themselves over the strapping tutor's appearance, his looks far from the gruff, olden professor they were told they were going to meet. Slightly bewildered, the two arguing students too were silenced by his sudden arrival, rushing to their seats as they tried to make sense on the situation. Soon enough, the lad was already scribling his name of the blackboard, written in bold Cyrillic and Latin alphabets as he began plugging in his equipment.

“Apologies for the delay, everyone,” he told the class, “I just got called in by the department today. Dr. Stefanovsky had to leave on urgent leave. His daughter's giving birth in Stuttgart; bless their souls. They won't be back until the end of your national education program, so I'll be stepping in for him for all your lectures. Anyway, my name is Roman Vissariovich Vorarlberg, assistant professor in the Department of History. Been here for maybe five to six years. Certainly not much older than any of you, even if I feel that way.”

“Anyway,” he said, checking the monitor as his presentation flashed on the projector, “on to business. Forgive me if I can't recall all your names. With close to a hundred of you, maybe more, I can't say for sure I'll remember you guys. Brief orientation: you'll be embarking on a project on modern Prussian history, that is about post-war Kaliningrad to the present day. Your teachers have already demanded a presentation and paper for the end of the course – sorry about that, not my call – in which you and your group will explore a particular subject on the history of modern Prussia. Now, I'm sure many of you are already groaning and wished I could get this over with, but I am not just going to be here stuffing you with info like turkeys. Because I want you to think carefully on this. Would your life be the same had history gone down a different path? Would you even be calling yourselves Prussians, probably the most undeserved title ever given to a country rebuilt entirely by people whose idea of Germany is a giant bloody swatstika cartwheeling across Eastern Europe like a wheat harvester.”

Drawing a few small chuckles, the tutor continued, “now then, let's start with a fairly easy query. When is modern Königsberg founded, and who founded it? Come on, don't be shy. Not like your friends will lynch you for knowing random trivia. Maybe. Yes,” he called out, pointing at a young girl with hair-decor fringes.

“1255 C.E., by the Teutonic Knights,” the young girl answered, feeling a bit unsure. A few others, did not seem that discomforted, their heads turned to her as if they knew she answered correctly. However, pointing back at the girl, the lecturer replied in a firm, “wrong.” As murmurs start to fill the room, the lecturer began to make his justification.

“I'm sure you're wondering why I said that,” he explained, “you see. My question asked for modern Königsberg. What you answered for, young lady, was for medieval Königsberg. You aren't exactly wrong, but tell me, class. Where are the founders' descendants now? Where are the Germans?”

An eerie silence fell over the lecture hall as the students pondered over the queries. The answer, for all of them, was obvious. They had been deported, virtually every last one. Any German that had not already fled Königsberg at the dying days of the war was deported to the shattered remnants of East and West Germany by the Soviets – their ancestors. Those that now inhabited the city were descendants of Soviet immigrants sent to fill the void. In essence, they were squatters on what was essentially a war trophy, and quite a few were starting to feel guilty.

“Come now, don't give those faces,” he assured them, “no adult holds children accountable for their parents' actions. Such facts cannot be changed, not after so long. The main thing about history is to learn from it, picking up the better decisions and tossing out the worse. Modern Königsberg, or Kaliningrad, as it was known, was founded in 1945, by – yes, we all know that name – Joseph Vissariovich Stalin. Expelling the original German inhabitants from the city, he repopulated the empty shell with immigrants from the Soviet Union, mainly Russians, Ukrainians and Belarussians. But did you know what he did with the city?”

Feeling a bit stumped, the students began showing a few shaking heads, others straining their heads for an answer. As the pause became defeaning, the lecturer finally broke the silence. Tapping his head, he quizzed, “well, think about it. Do you think that Joseph Stalin would care at all to make a Soviet republic out of nothing? Do you know that for a time, the leader considered simply ceding the territory to an existing republic or even a foreign country? It was actually a very real possibility then, and he could have simply merged it with a puppet Poland, or the recently annexed Lithuania. But in both case, the countries simply refused to take in a city filled with Russophones out of fear of upsetting the population. The last reasonable solution then was simply to include it in the Russian SFSR itself. Can you imagine the city cut off from the rest of Russia after the fall of the Soviet Union, having to survive the post-Soviet crash as an exclave, much less being run by United Russia?”

The lecturer, for one thing, had a flair for political humour, drawing a few laughs from the students even in the frightening Eastern European climate. Switching the slides, he declared, “all that could be your life had Stalin dictated, mark my words. However, for reasons that scholars still debate to this day, the dictator elected a different approach. No one knows for sure why, but theories have flown. If not for that choice, Prussia would still be a mere frontier district of a much larger nation, and you and I might probably be elsewhere, speaking a different language, living different lives...”

___________________________________​

Kremlin, Moscow, Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
April 1946

Kaliningrad, the westernmost frontier of the Soviet Union. Seized from the fallen Third Reich, the former city of Königsberg is undergoing a thorough purge of everything that exuded the 'corruption' of Germanic fascism unworthy of a place in the socialist utopia. Those who had survived the horrors of the war and have yet to flee the advancing Red Army now face the mercy of Joseph Stalin, spared only by his distaste for further trouble with the Western Allies as they were deported westwards to the remains of their occupied homeland. Intent on rebuilding the shattered ruins as his own, Russophone immigrants from the USSR had been brought in to the ice-free port to bring the city back to working order. But administrative-wise, the question on its delineation remained, and opposition to its inclusion in the Lithuanian SSR was already growing.

“... the People's Seimas has already made it clear,” one officer reported, his distinctive bald head and goatee gleaming under the spotlight. Standing in a musty room filled with map charts and documents, a gruff, ageing uniformed man with a handlebar mustache looked over the details as his cadre briefed him on the proceedings. Speaking over the documents on hand, the officer stated, “they are not willing to incorporate Kaliningrad Oblast into the LSSR. They... do not feel, quote unquote, 'worthy of your generosity'. It's probable though that they simply will not stomach a boost in the Russophone population. I believe they fear an uprising among the people if they tried.

“Let them say what they want,” the old man merely rambled, gesturing on the map without any sign of displeasure, “it doesn't matter where I put it. If they don't want it, I'll just fix it to the RSFSR. They're Russians, after all, so it's only fair.”

“Yes, Comrade Secretary,” the officer concurred, feeling a bit stifled over provoking the man, “no difference at all.” The officer, despite his intimidating appearance, has much to fear. Joseph Stalin, the man who would kill millions on a single allegation, was not someone to get on the wrong side of. Already, he had purged the officer core of the Red Army, several minorities, and driven millions of his citizens into starvation. The costs, to the man, was akin to a few coins, barely meaningful and worth paying if necessary. For the man to be the union's saviour, however, was both ironic and prophetic. Who else could have matched Hitler's bloodlust for Jews and Slavs? Who else was willing to throw men to the meatgrinder, when defeat seemed so ominously near? Part of the reason the Great Patriotic War was this bloody, the officer admitted to himself, was because Stalin had impeded the Red Army's chances to resist severely. But only a dead man could tell him in the face that purging trained officers and pretending the glut of evidence for Barbarossa was a figment of imagination were utterly bad ideas, and even then, Stalin would have him rot to death in a gulag anyway.

Adjusting his collar, the captain waited desperately for the man to adjourn the meeting. The less he spent in Stalin's presence, the lower the chance the paranoid dictator might suspect he was having ulterior motives. Just the thought was making his natural calm twist into nervousness. He was sure if the man noticed at all, he might think he was up to something, and send the NKVD guards surrounding the room to haul him away.

But just when Stalin seemed ready to call it a day, a voice cracked from the side. Raising his hand, a strange cadre with frazzled blonde hair and a hunch stepped forth to speak, a strange, disturbing gaze in his eyes as he greeted, “greetings to the great hero of the war! Vanquisher of fascism! Dispenser of justice to the working masses-”

“Enough flattery,” Stalin ordered coldly, a hint of annoyance in his eye over the grovelling officer, “what do you want?”

“Just a little thought on your grand plans, Comrade Secretary,” crooned the strange figure, “but why are you putting that small piece of land with one that's not attached to it? Seems strange, don't you think?”

Scoffing at the admittedly juvenile query, the stoic dictator answered, “what does it matter? I control all the land in between. That was the deal promised to me by the Western Allies. What does it matter that Kaliningrad is under a republic it's not connected to?”

Then, heaving in a raspy voice and a wide open grin, the strange man hollered in a jovial tone, “because it's ugly.”

The words sent chills down the cadres' spines. Whoever this commissar was, he was right out of his mind. To contradict Stalin was one thing. To contradict Stalin over something as trivial as border orthodoxy was outright madness. Even the Comrade Secretary himself was at a loss for words. Who on earth commissioned this man? Was he drunk?

“Ex...cuse me,” he questioned, slightly miffed at the accusation. While he appeared to be trying to stay cordial, it was plainly obvious that the eccentric character had painted, or was close to painting, a target for himself. Thinking hard as he exaggerated his finger wagging and expressions, the clown explained in an excited voice, “let me explain to you, Comrade Secretary. You see, why give the port, a valuable piece of real estate for your armed forces, to civilian government, when you can have it for yourself? It's already going to be a closed city, so what point is there to hand it over to a bunch of rubber stamps, hmm? Let the military handle the place. Let the men in uniform show it how it's done. After all, if the men in green run the district, they can say who can or cannot get in and better watch over the area. You'll have an exclusion zone far bigger than just one closed city. It'll a self-sustaining base of its own.”

His wild, theatrical gestures, were downright audacious. His intimate address to the leader himself bodes ill for the fool. Giving the man a good hard stare, Stalin himself appeared to be racking his brain over the most painful method to teach the clown of his place. But just when it seemed he was about to be hauled off, his eyes turned back to the maps, stroking his chin in deep thought at the words.

“I will... think about it,” was all he answered, waving off the cackling commissar as the hobbling figure stepped back behind the other cadres. Cold sweat running down their backs, the rest could only breathe a sigh of relief as the leader adjourned the proceedings. Eventually, they learnt just how seriously Stalin actually took the man's suggestion. A few days after, he addressed the creation of a 'military-administered district', a 'closed oblast', the first of its kind. While the idea was largely claimed to be Stalin's own, the few eyewitnesses who viewed that faithful proceedings still questioned the whereabouts of the eccentric cadre. Some believed he was disposed of, sent off to the gulag so Stalin could take credit. Others were not as sure, claiming the man never appeared in the NKVD registries. And some went further to claim he was simply insane, likely sent off to an asylum shortly after the meeting due to his liability, or even sent back after an escape and impersonation of a political officer. Whatever the reasons, the man never appeared again, his bizarre attitude earning him the nickname 'the Jester'[5], his name not even known to this day.

___________________________________​

Concluding his presentations to the class, Roman posited, “history is full of strange occurances. To paraphrase a quote, 'reality does not have to make sense'. If you have any questions, feel free to speak to me after class. If not, next time, we'll go through the immigration patterns that occurred during the early years of Kaliningrad's refounding, and the man who conducted one of the most ambitious social experiments in the 20th Century, in full approval of Stalin's successor, Nikita Khruschev. See you next time, class.”

As the class adjourned, the students were soon abuzz with chatter and talk. Crowding in front of the desk, the sudden surge quickly took the hapless lecturer aback. In all honesty, Roman did not really expect the students to ask him anything, half-expecting the lecture hall to clear in a moment's notice. Just the scene of bright female students eager to learn more from him almost filled him with a guilty pride. At least... until the questions came.

“Yes, yes,” he called out to the curious girls, “how may I help you-”

“Where're you from, Professor,” blurted an excited girl.

“How old are you, Mr Vorarlberg, you look so young,” praised another student eagerly.

“Are you German,” posited a third excitedly, “your name sounds very German!”

“Do you have a girlfriend yet,” a few quickly begged for answers, “is she pretty, Professor!?”

Stammering for an answer as the cadre shot him up with queries, the confused lecturer could barely get a word out as he started to back up over the blackboard. Desperate, he began issuing meek pleas for the girls to spare him, his words drown in the mass of hysteria that had utterly consumed his female charges. The few males in the hall, in contrast, had nothing to say, electing to depart as they left their senior at the girls' mercy. Pacing out into the corridor, a short-haired young man, however, could not help but think back at the lecture. Something about the incident piqued his interest, and the outright implausibility of the eyewitness accounts only serve to draw his imagination further.

“'The Jester, huh...” he commented, “where did I hear that before.”

That, however, was a tale for another story.

___________________________________​

1. IOTL, it's known as the Immanuel Kant Baltic Federal University (Russian: Балтийский федеральный университет имени Иммануила Канта) formerly known as the Immanuel Kant Russian State University (Russian: Российский государственный университет имени Иммануила Канта, Rossiyskiy gosudarstvennyy universitet imeni Immanuila Kanta). Here, I had some trouble thinking up a name, so this is the best I can think of. :V
2. From 1758–62, Imperial Russia occupied the city from Prussia during the Seven Years' War. This was as 'Russian' as the city could be claimed to be by anyone, and it might as well have been said that any Russian influence pretty much disintegrated with the departing army.
3. One of the only non-Germanic influences on the new Prussia, based on the Polish Sejm and Lithuanian Seimas. The term was supposedly meant to highlight Prussia's new Baltic identity, based on the original Old Prussians. Others have proposed renaming it the Landtag, but for obvious reasons anschluss, the government chose 'Seym' instead.
4. Given its overwhelming Eastern Orthodox population, Christmas Day is recognized as a public holiday on January 7, based on the Julian Calender.
5. Guess who

___________________________________​

Cast

• Staff
  • Assist. Prof. Roman Vissariovich Vorarlberg (pictured above)
• Students (Revealed so far)
  • Yana ????????? ???
  • Farah??? ????????

 

[Iserlohn]

Dat usage of anime artwork

But seriously, it is very well-written and I'm looking forward to see how you are going to flesh out this world, and *Prussia in particular, further. Subscribed!

 

[Neoteros]

Dat usage of anime artwork

But seriously, it is very well-written and I'm looking forward to see how you are going to flesh out this world, and *Prussia in particular, further. Subscribed!

And anime character archetypes and tropes as well. Remitonov, did you just put a serious TL and a moe anime in a blender?

Puroisen - Kariningurado no Monogatari

Produced by Kyoto Animation

Directed by Tonobu Remi

By the way, does this P-Russia include the whole of the former East Prussia or just OTL's Kaliningrad Oblast?

Or maybe something in between, like East Prussia without Memel and the Polish-majority southern third?

 

[ruth]

That's an extremely fancy プ! Do you have a fake-blackletter kana font, or did you make it yourself? If it's the former, I'm jealous and want a link, and if it's the latter, I'm extremely impressed with your skills.

 

[Remitonov]

That's an extremely fancy プ! Do you have a fake-blackletter kana font, or did you make it yourself? If it's the former, I'm jealous and want a link, and if it's the latter, I'm extremely impressed with your skills.

I actually had to piece it together out of Latin alphabets on Clip Studio Art. I already had the typeset for this (as you can see from the English title), but it can only render Latin alphabets in the font (Japanese kana just turns out in Arial). Same with the Russkie-style katakana, but that's comparatively easier to make. :3

Dat usage of anime artwork

But seriously, it is very well-written and I'm looking forward to see how you are going to flesh out this world, and *Prussia in particular, further. Subscribed!

And anime character archetypes and tropes as well. Remitonov, did you just put a serious TL and a moe anime in a blender?

Thank you! And yes, expect more moe and serious in the coming chapters! :3

-animu credits-

*This show is brought to you by the following sponsor*

Calbear

By the way, does this P-Russia include the whole of the former East Prussia or just OTL's Kaliningrad Oblast?

Or maybe something in between, like East Prussia without Memel and the Polish-majority southern third?

Just Kaliningrad Oblast, sadly. Polan is sad already, and honestly, trying to regain that part will get the Kaliningraders' teeth kicked in. They don't have a claim to it after the Soviet-Polish treaty outlining that border. Besides, the Poles hate Prussians and Russians in equal measure, and new Prussia is both!