War Plan Red

[Myroria]

Death is not the worst of all evils.

His Majesty's words rang in Atticus' head. A stray bullet from a wandering American soldier knocked down the private he so callously brushed off earlier. The soldier must have run off when he saw he wasn't attacking a single Kraut. Thoughts of anger, both at the soldier and himself, raced through Atticus' mind. "I could have done more. I should have done more. I should have chased that n'wah down until I could blow his brains out.

"We're going to have to meet the Canadians faster than we thought earlier. Who knows how far away from his group he was, he could have been 2 or 20 miles ahead of them." his commander's voice cleared his thoughts. Before long, he was leaving the group around the private - he didn't even know his name - and joined a small group of fellow officers around the Ubermajor.

"We'll have to leave him to the White Hearts," said one captain.

"I'm not having the d'wits take care of him!" said a major. D'wit. Atticus would have laughed, if it weren't for the circumstances. The Delfian-s'wit hybrid was just another corruption of his language.

"We have to, major", said Atticus, speaking up.

"With all due respect, our medics weren't cut out for an immediate fatality - they only have the essentials. We were supposed to get supplies from the Canadians, but they struck too soon."

"You mean casuality, Lieutenant?" said the Ubermajor.

"No, fatality. I went to med school for a year, and unless the White Hearts show up miraculously, he's not gonna make it. Even if they did, it'd be a long shot." Atticus replied, whispering so the private couldn't hear.

The particularly racist major whispered back, almost in a yell. "I ain't gonna let him be treated by the d'wits, that's for sure! And I sure as hell ain't gonna let him just lie there, dying!"

"S'wit." said Atticus.

"What, Lieutenant?"

"It's s'wit, not d'wit." The major would have charged him, but backed off.

"Listen," said the Ubermajor.

"We'll take him with us. If it's a fatality, like you said, we'll bury him or cremate him or whatever he specified when he joined."

"Yes, sir." said the group in unison, some more reluctant about the major winning the battle of words after all.


The private was in a ditch somewhere by the time the remaining soldiers saw the fires of a Canadian camp burning in the sunset. The soldiers lifted their visors up and yelled that there were Myrorian as they approached the camp. They didn't know who was there, or when their last and next battle would be, but at least they would have some good food in their stomachs and proper medical supplies.

[Delfos]

ooc: what is the closest city you are at? i don't have myrorians in my map. You can call the White Heart by radio, we have receivers. Another thing, not all White Hearts are Delfian lol. There's even Loyan near Winnipeg.

[Myroria]

We're in between the DSA front and the Canadian Inglish Columbian front. We're moving north to meet them. And the Myrorians don't know where the White Hearts are either, which is another thing that influenced the Ubermajor's decision to take the private with them, because he wasn't sure if they'd even arrive at all.

[Aquatoria]

ooc: Ok this is what the winter is looking like right now.

[Prydania]

It was a cold, dry day in Beaconsfield.
Emperor George VII sat outside on a balcony of Phillip's Palace, overlooking Beaconsfield's Imperial Gardens. In the distance the Imperial banner, the archer on red of Ingland and lion rampant of Scotia quartered, fluttered in the weak but ongoing breeze.

He picked up the last piece of toast, as he did after every supper, and spread a thin layer of butter over it.
After finishing his meal he took out a cigar made from Virginian tobacco, a gift from Confederate ex-president Michael Chamberlain. He puffed on the cigar for a while, starring at the sunset as it tried to inject some colour into the dull grey Inglish sky.

"Your Imperial Majesty...."
George turned around, to see an Imperial guard, dressed in a red jacket and black trousers with a khaki stripe running down the sides of the legs, standing in attention.

"Yes?" the Emperor enquired.
"The Rt. Honourable Stephen Crofts has arrived, he wishes to have a moment of your time."
"Yes, yes, of course, send him in."
George liked to take an active role in the running of the nation, so he never passed an opportunity to speak with a Prime Minister. It didn't hurt that he actually liked Crofts, a self-made man who had pulled himself up from a small farm in northern Ingland.

Crofts was escorted to the patio, dressed in khaki slacks and a plain cotton shirt.
One would say that attire wasn't befitting a visitor to His Imperial Majesty, but as far as Crofts was concerned putting on a big show, while important, was only needed when the cameras were rolling.

Crofts took a seat beside the Emperor.
"We knocked the Yankees out of Toronto yesterday. They're stalling on the charge to Winnipeg."
"Vancouver?"
"Still in American hands, but a unified PI force of Myrorians, Canadians, and our boys are preparing to retake the city."

"I suppose you know the prices of victory or defeat Stephen."
"Yes Your Majesty. Once we push the Yankees out of Canada we'll be in a position to attack American territory. Then we can dictate terms of peace, and we will have successfully enveloped the Democratic States."

"And if we fail Stephen, well allow me to make myself clear, we can't fail."
"I have no intention of failing Your Imperial Majesty. General Wellington has been dispatched to the Winnipeg front."
"You have yet to send Field Marshal Theriot."
"When the Yankees are running across the border in retreat Theriot will be dispatched to send the message that if they don't agree to our terms destruction is their alternative."

The Emperor was confident that if Theriot had been sent at the start they would be toasting victory in New Yorkshire by now. Still, he trusted Crofts. Crofts had served a distinguished carrier as a Colonel-General in the army before entering politics. He knew what he was doing militarily, and the Emperor trusted him.

"And Destler?"
"Erik is working to see to it that after this war the Democratic States is in no position to challenge any of use ever again."
"Good to hear Stephen."

[Aquatoria]

Inglish Columbian Front
Outside of Williams Lake

Charles loved the small town of Williams Lake and he felt good when the Canadian Army and her allies marched through the streets south to liberate southern IC. The Princess Hoshi's Light Infantry was at the frontlines in camp right now. The snow whistled by and the sky was lit up with the Southern Lights. Beautiful, just beautiful. thought Colonel Charles Paul. He heard some noises coming from the south. The Canadians armed themselves and prepared for another DSA attack, but it never came. Instead, a large group of men and women in white trench-coats and strange helmets came out of the snow. "Careful lads, those are Myrorians." The regiment lowered their weapons and went to greet their allies. Charles even made a joke. "Long walk lads." The two groups laughed.

The front was alive with gunfire. The previous night had offered the PI armies some rest, but the American troops tried one more time to break the spirit of the PI armies. It didn't work. The Canadians, Inglish, and Myrorians were holding the line. Jets flew forward to engage the American fighters. Tanks from both sides met and fought, but Charles knew for the Americans, only retreat would save them. Charles looked over at the Myrorian commander and nodded. The two men led their regiments against the Americans forceing them back. The combined efforts of the two regiments secured Williams Lake and from there, the roads to Vancouver and Free Kamloops.

Ottawa

Lord Protector Rommel was sitting in his office waiting for the arrival of three of his ministers. He looked out the window, like he always did. As if God would give him an answer to his problems. The war was ending and the Canadian Empire had held out, with the help of their allies however. A guard walked in. "Your Excellency, Ministers Hamburger, Ford and Morena are here to speak with you." Rommel nodded and let the three ministers in. Jean Hamburger was the Minister of Agriculture, Daniel Ford was the Miniter of Industry, and Marie Morena was the Minister of Natural Resources. He wished to speak with them to see what condition the nation was in. He motioned them to seats and then turned to them.

"I asked for you to bring me reports on the economic condition of the country. I need to know how bad this is. Anyone?"

Minister Hamburger started. "Your Excellency, our agriculture is still as strong as it was before the war started. Because the war took place on three fronts and none of those fronts were near our agricultural centers of Alberta and Saskatchewan, our agriculture wasn't affected at all. We can restart our trade with nations as soon as the war is over."

Minister Morena added on to Jean's report. "Same with natural resources. The oil-fields of Alberta and Alaska, the fishing companies in Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island and Labrador, the diamond and gold mines of the northern territories, and the timber industry of northern Inglish Columbia has hardly been affected. We are still strong economically. After the war, we can return to our position as one of the top trading nations."

Rommel could believe what he was hearing. The war had hardly affected the economic status of the Empire. All of the economic provinces and territories had never even been the sights of any battles, with the exception of northern IC, but even with the IC lumber industry a little down, they could still use the lumber in Alaska, the Yukon and the Northwest Territories. He was pleased.

"Daniel, your turn."

Daniel Ford pulled out a folder. "Your Excellency, with the Battle of Toronto, we lost a sizable amount of our industrial capability. The move of some industrial factories north saved us though. Hamilton and Kingston as well as Montreal can still sustain our industrial power for a while, until the factories are moved back to Toronto or rebuilt. It will be a problem for us, but not a vast problem. All we need to do is put all of our industrial capabilities into the rebuilding of the industrial center in Toronto and then we will be back in business. In Toronto, the battle was mostly in the city's economic and industrial areas, so we just need to rebuild the destroyed areas. The residential and government areas were luckily spared so we still have a city of Toronto, but we just need to rebuild the factories."

Rommel nodded. Of course he knew that there would be some economic problem the government would need to deal with, but it wasn't a large problem. "Alright Ministers, you may go back to your offices and prepare a full report back to me and then I will bring this up to Parliament and we will see what we can do."

[Aquatoria]

Occupied Inglish Columbia
12 miles outside of Penticton

Kole, the proclaimed General of the Provincial Army, looked over the hill to the American camp. The Americans were encamped in a field waiting to be moved north to stop the Canadian advance. All around him were the proud soldiers of the Provincial Army. They dressed in winter coats and jackets, but wore the symbol of the province of IC, the Spirit Bear. Kole looked at his second-in-command Colonel William Shephard. "Willy, we need to destroy or molest this camp. We claim weapons, ammo, and other supplies. Leave no one alive." Willy saluted and went to relay the Kole's orders. In the few months that the Provisional Government of Inglish Columbia was created and it's army built to protect it, they had grown strong. It had grown to over 40,000 people, both men and women all over Occupied IC, but the vanguard of the army was in the center of the occupied territory, led by the Provisonal Government from Kamloops. The army in the largest part of Occupied Inglish Columbia numbered near fifteen thousand infantry and eight hundred cavalry with various artillery pieces. Kole was proud of the army that he led, but it wasn't large enough to meet the Americans on open ground as well as defend the territory that the Provisional Government had freed. Kelowna, Kamloops, Ashcroft, Clinton and Cache Creek were all free from American tyranny, but Kole knew that he needed to defeat the Americans in order to hold them. After this battle, he was free to to enter Penticton and free that city. Word had reached him that the 1st Penticton Volunteers were already causing problems for the Americans garrison. But this camp was a threat to the Provincial Army.

"Alright lads, the First Kamloops Volunteers and the Second will be at our center, the Seventh Kelowna Volunteers and the First Cache Creek Volunteers will take the flanks. I want the Sixth Imperial Mounted Rifles and the Third Imperial Mounted Rifles to be prepared to cut the Americans off when we attack. The First Kamloops Howitzers will launch an attack that will send the Americans into confusion and then we will strike. Let's go."

The attack began. The Americans were unprepared for the sudden attack. Howitzers opened up on the camp sending many Americans into a frenzy. Many reached for their weapons but the sudden attack had kept many from doing anything. The infantry charged down the hill, firing as they went. Some had M16s and other American weapons, but most were holding the out-dated Ross rifles. The Canadians attacked quickly just as the Americans were setting up a defensive line. Excatly as Kole knew they would. The Canadians hid behind trees and large rocks and fired at the Americans. As the two groups battled each other, the final end to the battle happened. The cavalry that Kole had sent behind the Americans charged toward the line. They fired their carbines and then whe the cavalry neared the Americans line, they drew sabers and tore through the line. The infantry advanced, shooting at any AMericans that they spied. Soon the remaining Americans surrendered. But Kole didn't have a single symbpathictic bone in his body. As the Americans were stripped of their weapons, they were brought before the partisan army and they were executed by firing squad.

[Aquatoria]

Inglish Columbian Front
60 miles outside of Vancouver

Field Marshal Worthington got out of the black car that had driven him to Arthur Currie's headquarters outside of Vancouver. He straightened his red uniform and fixed his hat. An aide came and showed him to the General's tent where he was planning the final attack on Vancouver and on the DS Army. He had arrived unexpectedly to take personal command of the Canadian Army while his friend and mentor, Field Marshal Theriot had arrived not long before taking command of the Inglish Army. Field Marshal Worthington moved through the HQ. Staff and soldiers watched as the notorious Canadian Field Marshal of the Armies and Chairman of the General Staff walked past them. His face was the face of a victorious commander, as so he was. The Field Marshal had recently arrived from the Ontarian Front where the Canadian and Feneixian armies had held out in Toronto and even pushed the Americans across the border. Now he was to take command of the Canadian Army here in Inglish Columbia. He looked at the men in red around him and even some in khaki staring at him in awe. Enlisted soldiers. They are the ones who win battles, not officers and certaintly not field marshals. The Field Marshal had a great respect for enlisted soldiers.

Worthington walked into the General's tent as they stood over a map of Vancouver and the surrounding areas. He noticed many of the senior officers wore red, and some even wore Myrorian black, but one was dressed in khaki. Worthington nodded to Field Marshal Theriot. General Currie saluted as did the other officers. "General Currie, I have been ordered by Parliament and the Lord Protector to take command of our Canadian army here in IC."

General Currie nodded. "Yes sir. But my question is that why wasn't I warned before hand so I could have properly greeted you."

"General, you have done well leading this army against our enemy. But you were not told because our Intelligance was worried that spies may be relying information back to the DSA. So I came unexpectedly. So what is the situation?"

Arthur Currie showed the Field Marshal to the map. "Our intelligence tells us that the Americans have massed outside of Vancouver. They haven't set up trenches, but there are foxholes and tank barricades to get around. Mines have killed some our men already. We are almost ready to attack. I have ordered Air Chief Marshal Simon to bomb the American positions and also I have had artillery launch missiles and shells at the Americans to soften them up. Grand Admiral Trudeau has contacted me and he says he ready to blockade the harbor and hammer the American rear with his battleships."

Field Marshal Worthington nodded. "Good work General. I am ordering you to take command of our eastern flank where we have placed the Canadian and Myrorian soldiers. Field Marshal Theriot, I would like the report of your Inglish soldiers please."

[Prydania]

It was suppose to be Wellington.
General Wellington was suppose to take command of the Inglish army outside of Vancouver.
At the Emperor's insistence, however, the plan changed. Wellington was sent to Winnipeg, and Theriot was sent to Vancouver.

It wasn't that he didn't want to be there, he just wanted a break. It wasn't to long ago that he was cutting straight through Kentucky, threatening to take Columbus if the DSA didn't recognize the independence of the southern Confederacy. 
That was suppose to be the war that capped off a distinguished carrier. The situation dictated otherwise, though. The continued American occupation of Vancouver could not go on.
Wellington may be a capable general, but HIM would sleep better knowing that Theriot was on the ground.

Besides, his presence there would be a psychological advantage as well. Very few generals had given the DS Army a betting like Andrew Theriot had.

"Field Marshal Worthington," Theriot began, HIM's 7th Army is ready and willing to begin the fight to take back Vancouver. We will charge along the coast. I have been assured by Admiral Paine that the DS Pacific Navy is to tied down fighting the navies of our allied nations to hinder our advance."

[Aquatoria]

Worthington nodded. "Good, thank you Field Marshal. You all have your orders so let's go and finish this war. I have orders from the Lord Protector and from Parliament. We are not to invade DS territory, but our navies are allowed to bombard their cities like Seattle. Let's begin." The commanders nodded and saluted. Field Marshal Worthington walked to his new command post where he could dictate the battle. The khaki soldiers headed west to the coast with a few red-unformed men. The rest of the army was ready to attack. He could hear planes soar overtop the base and also artillery open up again on the American lines. So it begins. The final war between the Democratic States and Greater Canada would end near the city of Vancouver. Field Marshal Theriot walked into the command post. "Andrew, I feel so much better to know that you are here to command the Inglish armies in IC. I respect Wellington, but we need a feared field marshal to be leding the Inglish here. Where are you going?"

Andrew smiled. "I am going to lead the Inglish armies personally."

Worthington nodded. "Good, I will send a few more Canadian soldiers to bolster your army. You have your army and your orders. Dismissed, Field Marshal."

[Bara]

"So, where are we heading to again?"

"Some prison camp, for gods sake, i told you the last 18 times you asked!"

"Sorry..."

The march of the Kailazerc was long and slow. They saw no reason to hurry. All they were doing was going to guard some prison camps that the Canadians set up. It wasn't that big of a deal. All it did was free up some soldiers. Most of the soldiers walked, there long knifes ,which was normal in Kailazerc, Strapped to the backs, and there rifles were being held loosely in there hands. Within a few days, they'll be at the camps. A company per camp. So, the line went on, slow, and long. slow, and long.

[Prydania]

Theriot's Challenger II rolled through the snow as the Inglish line advanced toward Vancouver.
Bombs were flying everywhere, bullets shot through the cold, winter air.

"All lines are holding, Field Marshal" his communications officer forwarded.
"And those further west?"
"Wellington reports the Americans' latest attempt to take Winnipeg has stalled."

Theriot pulled up an image of the front on one the screens that surrounded him in his chair. It was a basic representation of the battlefield, it didn't change via live updates. It was good for getting the basic feel of the battlefield though, at least at the start.

A line of blue symbolized the DS front line.
"Sir, the 15th Armoured Division is reporting a weak spot in the Yankee lines near Check Point Tango."
"Lets lead the way" Theriot responded, sinking himself into the chair.

The tank made a slight turn to the right, careful not to make the turn to fast, thus exposing itself to enemy fire.

"Charge forward" Theriot ordered. The tank sped forward, charging the American lines.
At that moment an American solider manning an artillery piece fired. The shell shot into the air, and crashed down to earth. Something went wrong though. It didn't explode, not right away at least. It sat there, lodged into the cold ground.
Just then the Challenger 2 tank of Field Marshal Andrew Theriot rolled over the seemingly dead projectile.
The tank went up in flames.

From the wreckage, the Field Marshal Theriot crawled through the snow, the coldness of the snow contrasting with the flames of the destroyed tank.
The Field Marshal turned himself over onto his bank, bullets and smoke dancing in the air over his head.
A young Inglo-Scotian soldier saw what had happened, and rushed to his aid.

"Filed Marshal! Are you alright?" he yelled.
Just before he could turn his head to call for a medic Theriot's hand grasped the collar of the soldier's flak jacket and pulled him down to the earth to whisper something into his ear.

"Push on....push on...."

With that Andrew Theriot sank into unconsciousness.

--------------------------------------------------------
"To victory!"
That was Lieutenant-General Ian Wellington, Duke of Devonshire's toast in front of the town hall of Rosenfield, Manitoba, a small town lying about half-way between Winnipeg and the Canadian/American border.
The Americans had been expelled, and the Canadian flag once again flew over the town, with the Inglo-Scotian union jack draped over the door of a small hotel, serving as Wellington's HQ.
A touch-and go fight, but the Americans lost their chance when General Provost, due his mounting casualties, refused to pursue retreating PI armies. That have the PI forces a chance to push the Americans out of Winnipeg, and out of Rosenfield some time afterwards.

Wellington walked through the streets, to the town high school's football field. The complex had been converted into a PoW camp.
The mass of green-grey uniforms behind the makeshift walls, covered in dirt, didn't play on his compassion.
"Yanks should have known what they were getting themselves into" he muttered to himself.
A night or two in the Manitoban winter would do them good.

[Aquatoria]

Colonel Paul was leading his men along with some Inglish soldiers to Vancouver. The American lines had held, but when the legendary Field Marshal Theriot came on the scene, the American line fell and began to retreat. But Charles was there when he saw the Field Marshal's tank explod. He saw a figure leave the burning wreakage and fall to the ground. An Inglish soldier ran up and held the field marshal. Colonel Paul arrived at the soldier's side and saw that the figure was indeed Field Marshal Theriot. But he was dead. Colonel Paul looked at the Inglish soldier and saw him crying. "It's alright soldier, this is how he would've wanted to go. Leading his men into battle." He pointed to two Canadian and two Inglish soldiers. "You four, get a streacher and lay the field marshal's body on it. Take it back to headquarters." he then turned back to the soldier. "What was his last words?"

"Push on." the soldier said sobbing.

"Then push on we will. Princess Hoshi's Light Infantry, Revenge for the Field Marshal!" The Canadian and Inglish lines cried out in a single voice. "Revenge of the Field Marshal! Revenge for Theriot!" They surged forward, taking the Americans by surprise. The slipt minutes since the Field Marshal's death casue an increase in morale for the Americans, but then that morale was shot through the heart as the revenge seeking Inglish and Canadian army met them in combat. Colonel Paul in his blue uniform fired his rifle and grunted when he heard a scream. The American lines were failing. They were retreating.


Xavier Rommel overlooked the reports of the PI advance in Manitoba and in Inglish Columbia. The reports came in were good, but with one bit of news that hit Rommel in the chest. Andrew theriot, Field Marshal of the Inglish Army had been killed. He ttok hard, but he needed to end the war. He picked up the phone. "Foriegn Ministry please....Thank you.....Hello....Yes this is Lord Protector Rommel....I want a message sent to President Kennedy.....I want him to surrender immediatly and until he answers the war will continue....Yes...I want it sent the moment that Vancouver is in our hands....Thank you." He hung up and waited.

[Myroria]

"It's getting a bit cold, eh Atticus?"

"I've had worse, Aldous." replied Atticus, flipping down his helmet's vizor and kicking down the bundle of sticks that was the "Soldier's Altar" of the traditional Pelagian Pantheon. A soldier would not be smited by the gods for doing so. It seemed as soon as the sticks collapsed, he heard a bang behind him, got his eyes covered in dirty snow, and did a 180 turn before the pain hit him. His leg seemingly gave out from under him, and he saw Aldous nearly wringed backwards around a tree. Artillery. This was a most dangerous situation; with a bad leg, it was unlikely he could get away. Now he was being dragged backwards over the sounds of "Medic!" and "Damnit!". Another soldier was dragging him away from the situation, firing behind him with his Luger. Luger? An officer, for sure. He saw a glimpse of American uniforms before the door to the ULTRA AP shut, and started.

The ULTRA AP was quiet. Turning his head to the side over the pain in his leg, he saw why. There lay Aldous, dead. This wasn't an ambulance; this was a hearse. Another bang, the ULTRA AP swerved. He saw a glimpse of sunlight in the dome on the ceiling, and the vehicle hit a tree. The back door was shaken ajar. He had to get out of here, it'd be blown to smithereens. Tumbling out the bottom, he saw the drivers, G36's flailing, running back toward the battle.

This is the end. The bitter, bitter end.

[Democratic States of America]

The New Yorkshire Times

DUKE OF GLOUCESTER SAILS INTO VANCOUVER HARBOUR

The headline starred back at Adam Kennedy, mocking him, starring into his very soul.
How could this have happened?
For three years the DSA had been built up into a military machine. He had decided to invade a weaker enemy to isolate the hated Confederacy.
Now the PI had expelled his armies from Canada, and his generals were telling him the PI's request for an armistice  was the most logical thing he could do.   
What was he suppose to do? He was up for re-election in a year, and he had failed to deliver the military victory he had promised America.
Well he had one option, all though he wasn't sure how well it would go over.

It was why his generals had told him to accept the PI terms of peace. If the DSA continued, their armies would be bogged down in Canada for years to come, and stagnant wars were never popular with the American public.
By accepting the PI terms, status quo ante bellum, he could sell the war as success under the pretence that the same enemies who had turn the DSA military apart five years earlier had been drawn to a stalemate.
He could at least claim that Canada and Inglo-Scotia had leaned a lesson in American military might.

"Call Crofts, tell him we're ready to talk" he informed Abramson, his Secretary of Defence.