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I hope Azuren IS the one to finally kill Stukov. It would make for a very poetic ending.
grayghost: Keep in mind, however, that the government has essentially been military since Stalin was overthrown. There's virtually no one left in positions of high power that haven't been filled by replacement generals or officers. Uritskiy is one notable exception, but he's filling in a spot mostly designed for a glorified thug.
GeneralHannibal: How so?
VILenin: Such seditious talk is highly frowned upon!
--------------------------------------
It is common and, unfortunately, trendy amongst current historical circles to cite the fall of Spain or India as the moment that Premier Alexei Stukov became discontent with what power he already had. To claim such is not only to trivialize several months' actions prior to either event, but also to attribute an undeserved trait of spontaneity to Stukov's actions.
Starting in April, the year 1943 was a series of ever-increasing windfalls for Stukov's regime. The American and Allied armies had been repeatedly crushed in open battle, the British Isles conquered with ridiculous ease, and the technological gap ever widening to its fateful climax. An uncertain premiership of questionably legitimacy was replaced by a stupendously popular administration guiding a nation to unprecedented military triumph. The masses were placated, the generals dazzled by the prospect of more glory and fame ahead. It was this blindness that allowed Stukov to innocently snatch the administration of conquered Europe out of the Red Army's control. In a speech on 20 November, Stukov announced that administration of Europe - not just the conquered lands - would be incorporated into the "Soviet empire" with the introduction of a civil bureaucracy. Ever the realist, Stukov was sure to emphasize the particular hands-off nature of this administration. Local "colloquialism," as he referred to laws, customs, and languages, would be respected so long as they were compatible with a "standardized system of mutual comparison," which in virtually every case they were.
The generals did not complain. They were too busy on the fronts earning their enormous popularity with the masses, and few were politically skilled enough - the need having faded along with the specter of Stalinist purges - to realize they were signing away any potential bases of support in opposition to the premier in the Kremlin. Thus, in one speech, Stukov had managed a diplomatic master-stroke; another little victory to add to his tally. The system itself was remarkable in how little Stukov seemed concerned with imposing Soviet society, or even introducing communist ideology. Empire in principle was more important than empire in practice
Certainly, it was this feeling of euphoric triumph that persuaded the Premier to initiate the "long overdue" invasion of Iberia. Stukov justified the invasion, composing approximately 30 divisions under the command of star-general Rokossovsky, as a response to the republican Spain's refusal to allow Soviet troops to march through the country in order to take Gibraltar and Portugal, which along with the Italian fascists still bottled up in Sicily constituted the last remnants of Hitler's once-vaunted Axis Powers. Relations had cooled considerably between Spain and the Soviet Union since Soviet military aid had saved it from the reactionary response of General Francisco Franco. It is curious Stukov would bother with such justifications, as there was virtually no neutral party of concern left to justify this action to, and the Soviet people would have little need to be placated. It is possible that the Premier sincerely thought the invasion was the proper reaction, but highly unlikely. Much like Napoleon before him, this invasion was nothing more than another imperialist ambition.
The invasion could have been timed better. The November weather along the Pyrennes slowed the Soviet advance to a crawl, and Stukov had seriously underestimated both the size and capability of Spain's armies. Barcelona and Bilbao did fall, but by late December, the offensive had bogged down along the Ebro River and forced Stukov to redeploy another eighteen divisions from Rotterdam - ones that had originally been intended for the fierce battle for Britain that never materialized - for a renewed offensive later in '44.
But balancing out the disappointment of the Spanish campaign came astonishing news from the sea. Long plagued by constant American and Allied raids on Soviet supply convoys to Britain, Stukov ordered Grand Admiral Panteliev to take the repaired Atlantic Fleet out of port at Antwerp and Rotterdam to sweep the Channel clear of enemy ships. Almost immediately, Panteliev encountered a large American fleet formation. Before significant damage could be inflicted to the American carriers or battleships, they retreated in the night-time gloom. Grossly misjudging the American flotilla's intention, Panteliev sailed west into the English Channel - while the American fleet sailed into the North Sea - which the fleet quickly cleared of several Dutch and Canadian squadrons, sinking several Dutch destroyer screens and the cruiser Java.
At this point, Panteliev radioed back to Rotterdam, ordering the transport fleet to rendezvous with the Atlantic battlegroup off Cornwall. Viktorov had ordered Panteliev to facilitate a crossing of the Irish Sea by Konev's armoured corps in order to seize Northern Ireland, thereby making Gibraltar the nearest British port. The two fleets combined and immediately sailed toward Liverpool
It was while on route that Panteliev encountered the long-lost Royal Navy on the afternoon of December 19. The Grand Admiral hesitated, nervous to risk the Soviet Union's only fleet, before engaging full-force. His decision proved correct. Soviet aircraft pounded the British fleet from a distance, while the enemy battleships made futile attempts to close the gap and engage under air cover. The battle raged for almost a full day, with the Soviet transport squadrons slipping into Liverpool under the fleet's defensive screen, before the British broke off. When the proverbial dust had settled, Britain's reputation as a naval power was obliterated. The battleships Malaya, Queen Elizabeth, Warspite, and Revenge, carrier Courageous, and cruiser York were all sunk, and the cruiser Exeter heavily damaged, whereas only Novorossiysk had taken light damage. But trapped in Belfast, and with Konev's army on the way, the British would not have a chance to lick their wounds. With no organized army resistance to stop them, Konev's tanks captured the entirety of Northern Ireland by Christmas Eve. The British heroically sallied forth, the battleship Valiant living up to its name as it sacrificed itself to allow the rest of the fleet to escape north.
All at once, the threat of an Allied counter-invasion of Britain had been shattered, and established the Soviet Union as not just a dangerously potent land power, but naval force as well. But more importantly, combined with the invasion of Spain - which would inevitably result in Soviet victory - Christmas Eve, 1943 marked a watershed point in history. For the first time since the fall of the Western Roman Empire, Europe was under the subjugation of a single power. Certainly, Napoleon had come close, but there had always been some lingering threat from Austria, Russia, or England. This was not the case in 1943. Certainly, the Swiss, and Scandinavian and Baltic countries remained independent, but even combined their forces were inconsiderable in comparison. Only the United States or Japan's East-Asian Co-Prosperity Sphere could hope to match the Soviet Union's military might and free the continent, and that was not an imminent prospect in either case.
December 24, 1943 is then rightfully to be remembered as the birth of a truly continental empire with undisputed hegemony. Combined with Stukov's resurgent ambitions and the successful implementation of the infant imperial policy in Europe and Asia, this would prove to be a lethal combination in years to come.
---From Stukov: The Man, the Myth, and the Monster---
GeneralHannibal: How so?
VILenin: Such seditious talk is highly frowned upon!
--------------------------------------
It is common and, unfortunately, trendy amongst current historical circles to cite the fall of Spain or India as the moment that Premier Alexei Stukov became discontent with what power he already had. To claim such is not only to trivialize several months' actions prior to either event, but also to attribute an undeserved trait of spontaneity to Stukov's actions.
Starting in April, the year 1943 was a series of ever-increasing windfalls for Stukov's regime. The American and Allied armies had been repeatedly crushed in open battle, the British Isles conquered with ridiculous ease, and the technological gap ever widening to its fateful climax. An uncertain premiership of questionably legitimacy was replaced by a stupendously popular administration guiding a nation to unprecedented military triumph. The masses were placated, the generals dazzled by the prospect of more glory and fame ahead. It was this blindness that allowed Stukov to innocently snatch the administration of conquered Europe out of the Red Army's control. In a speech on 20 November, Stukov announced that administration of Europe - not just the conquered lands - would be incorporated into the "Soviet empire" with the introduction of a civil bureaucracy. Ever the realist, Stukov was sure to emphasize the particular hands-off nature of this administration. Local "colloquialism," as he referred to laws, customs, and languages, would be respected so long as they were compatible with a "standardized system of mutual comparison," which in virtually every case they were.
The generals did not complain. They were too busy on the fronts earning their enormous popularity with the masses, and few were politically skilled enough - the need having faded along with the specter of Stalinist purges - to realize they were signing away any potential bases of support in opposition to the premier in the Kremlin. Thus, in one speech, Stukov had managed a diplomatic master-stroke; another little victory to add to his tally. The system itself was remarkable in how little Stukov seemed concerned with imposing Soviet society, or even introducing communist ideology. Empire in principle was more important than empire in practice
Certainly, it was this feeling of euphoric triumph that persuaded the Premier to initiate the "long overdue" invasion of Iberia. Stukov justified the invasion, composing approximately 30 divisions under the command of star-general Rokossovsky, as a response to the republican Spain's refusal to allow Soviet troops to march through the country in order to take Gibraltar and Portugal, which along with the Italian fascists still bottled up in Sicily constituted the last remnants of Hitler's once-vaunted Axis Powers. Relations had cooled considerably between Spain and the Soviet Union since Soviet military aid had saved it from the reactionary response of General Francisco Franco. It is curious Stukov would bother with such justifications, as there was virtually no neutral party of concern left to justify this action to, and the Soviet people would have little need to be placated. It is possible that the Premier sincerely thought the invasion was the proper reaction, but highly unlikely. Much like Napoleon before him, this invasion was nothing more than another imperialist ambition.
The invasion could have been timed better. The November weather along the Pyrennes slowed the Soviet advance to a crawl, and Stukov had seriously underestimated both the size and capability of Spain's armies. Barcelona and Bilbao did fall, but by late December, the offensive had bogged down along the Ebro River and forced Stukov to redeploy another eighteen divisions from Rotterdam - ones that had originally been intended for the fierce battle for Britain that never materialized - for a renewed offensive later in '44.
But balancing out the disappointment of the Spanish campaign came astonishing news from the sea. Long plagued by constant American and Allied raids on Soviet supply convoys to Britain, Stukov ordered Grand Admiral Panteliev to take the repaired Atlantic Fleet out of port at Antwerp and Rotterdam to sweep the Channel clear of enemy ships. Almost immediately, Panteliev encountered a large American fleet formation. Before significant damage could be inflicted to the American carriers or battleships, they retreated in the night-time gloom. Grossly misjudging the American flotilla's intention, Panteliev sailed west into the English Channel - while the American fleet sailed into the North Sea - which the fleet quickly cleared of several Dutch and Canadian squadrons, sinking several Dutch destroyer screens and the cruiser Java.
At this point, Panteliev radioed back to Rotterdam, ordering the transport fleet to rendezvous with the Atlantic battlegroup off Cornwall. Viktorov had ordered Panteliev to facilitate a crossing of the Irish Sea by Konev's armoured corps in order to seize Northern Ireland, thereby making Gibraltar the nearest British port. The two fleets combined and immediately sailed toward Liverpool
It was while on route that Panteliev encountered the long-lost Royal Navy on the afternoon of December 19. The Grand Admiral hesitated, nervous to risk the Soviet Union's only fleet, before engaging full-force. His decision proved correct. Soviet aircraft pounded the British fleet from a distance, while the enemy battleships made futile attempts to close the gap and engage under air cover. The battle raged for almost a full day, with the Soviet transport squadrons slipping into Liverpool under the fleet's defensive screen, before the British broke off. When the proverbial dust had settled, Britain's reputation as a naval power was obliterated. The battleships Malaya, Queen Elizabeth, Warspite, and Revenge, carrier Courageous, and cruiser York were all sunk, and the cruiser Exeter heavily damaged, whereas only Novorossiysk had taken light damage. But trapped in Belfast, and with Konev's army on the way, the British would not have a chance to lick their wounds. With no organized army resistance to stop them, Konev's tanks captured the entirety of Northern Ireland by Christmas Eve. The British heroically sallied forth, the battleship Valiant living up to its name as it sacrificed itself to allow the rest of the fleet to escape north.
All at once, the threat of an Allied counter-invasion of Britain had been shattered, and established the Soviet Union as not just a dangerously potent land power, but naval force as well. But more importantly, combined with the invasion of Spain - which would inevitably result in Soviet victory - Christmas Eve, 1943 marked a watershed point in history. For the first time since the fall of the Western Roman Empire, Europe was under the subjugation of a single power. Certainly, Napoleon had come close, but there had always been some lingering threat from Austria, Russia, or England. This was not the case in 1943. Certainly, the Swiss, and Scandinavian and Baltic countries remained independent, but even combined their forces were inconsiderable in comparison. Only the United States or Japan's East-Asian Co-Prosperity Sphere could hope to match the Soviet Union's military might and free the continent, and that was not an imminent prospect in either case.
December 24, 1943 is then rightfully to be remembered as the birth of a truly continental empire with undisputed hegemony. Combined with Stukov's resurgent ambitions and the successful implementation of the infant imperial policy in Europe and Asia, this would prove to be a lethal combination in years to come.
---From Stukov: The Man, the Myth, and the Monster---
That was a very well written "excerpt". Truly well done. From the moment I started reading it, I was imersed in the biographical essence of it. Great job.
Very good an interesting. This prospect of allowing local autonomy will be beneficial I think. Also, what is the chance of Japan and the US/Allies joining up to defeat the Soviets?
Seems to me that that would be the only thing that might be able to slow you now...
Seems to me that that would be the only thing that might be able to slow you now...
When thinking about Stukov the following quote about Alexander comes to mind:
"And when Alexander saw the breadth of his domain he wept, for at last there were no more worlds to conquer."
For a man like Stukov, bent and driven by his desire for conquest and power, what will be left once he's achieved it? I have trouble imagining him being content with anything, even if it is absolute power. And going into a quiet retirement is just straight out.
"And when Alexander saw the breadth of his domain he wept, for at last there were no more worlds to conquer."
For a man like Stukov, bent and driven by his desire for conquest and power, what will be left once he's achieved it? I have trouble imagining him being content with anything, even if it is absolute power. And going into a quiet retirement is just straight out.
Well everyone, I have some ridiculously bad news to give you. And it's worse than the potential corruption of my Doomsday game I almost had a few weeks back. Instead, I actually deleted every Chronological Influences III save file.
That's right... every...single...save file...
Gone.
Seven in-game years obliterated out of sheer carelessness, absent-mindedness, and stupidity. I really am at a lose for words and how and why I let it happen. As a result of how far into the game I've gone, any attempt to reproduce the situation is impossible. There is no way I can continue on with a restored or modified game.
But that does not neccesarily mean I would have to stop writing this AAR. While the story would no longer be bound by anything that happens in-game, I can still keep writing as if the game were still going.
I want to hear from you, the readers, on this.
That's right... every...single...save file...
Gone.
Seven in-game years obliterated out of sheer carelessness, absent-mindedness, and stupidity. I really am at a lose for words and how and why I let it happen. As a result of how far into the game I've gone, any attempt to reproduce the situation is impossible. There is no way I can continue on with a restored or modified game.
But that does not neccesarily mean I would have to stop writing this AAR. While the story would no longer be bound by anything that happens in-game, I can still keep writing as if the game were still going.
I want to hear from you, the readers, on this.
This reminds me of Prufrock451, I think it was, continuing to write for an AAR after the actual game action was over. By all means, if you still want to continue, then definitely do so. I'll definitely keep reading.
Continue!
Also, you can use doctored screenshots for what you want your map to look like and things like that.
Also, you can use doctored screenshots for what you want your map to look like and things like that.
That is indeed terrible news. I'm one more for continuing, however. The story's come too far to abandon it. Stukov's cheated death, vaulted thru time on multiple occasions, etc, don't let a little thing like the loss of game files stop him now. 
Even the autosaves? meh the fiction was better than the gameplay anyhow keep writing.
Thank you all for your support on this matter. I will continue writing this AAR, although there will of course no longer be any in-game screens. Hopefully what I still have thanks to what I've already writen will keep me grounded in a "reasonable" progression of the AAR.
"This, I assure you, is not over."
"This, I assure you, is not over."
TC Pilot said:
YaY! Thats good to know, I realy enjoy this AAR and it would be a shame to end it before the "fat lady sings"
Keep on writing. The game has gone so far beyond the scope of history that anything you write would be feasable if it continues to follow the game trend already set. You have a great story here, so keep it up. Besides, how would we ever get to Chronological Influences IV: The Return of Stukov?
Don't you mean Chronological Influences IV: The Return of Duran?
After all, Duran DID kill Stukov, at least in Starcraft.
After all, Duran DID kill Stukov, at least in Starcraft.
Marchalk_Zjukov: Are you calling Azuren fat!? *prepares gallows*
Darks63: I think that might be best.
grayghost: Actually, I believe this AAR already qualifies as "The Return of Stukov," don't you think?
Given the catastrophic loss, I intend to take this story far further than I would have with the actual game.
rcdugga: No, unfortunately, there's too much risk involved with that. I would essentially be stabbing in the dark. What I actually did was literally take the entire game folder, delete it, and replace it with a new copy I got through.... other means.
ColossusCrusher: Is that a threat, comrade?
------------------------------
January 12th, 1944
Premier Alexei Stukov watched silently as the trucks and halftracks of the Soviet Empire's first Imperial Army made their way through Red Square, surrounded by the newly trained soldiers, dressed in resplendent uniforms and marching in perfect harmony.
Despite the facade of reserved superiority Stukov wished to convey as he looked down at the passing soldiers, contrasting sharply with the throngs of cheering civilians, he could not help but allow himself to smile at what lay before him.
Riding the momentum of the series of crushing defeats handed to the Allies by the Red Army, Stukov had announced the formation of the first Soviet Imperial Army. Ideally, it was to represent the elite core of the armed forces, a specialized shock force suited for the most difficult, demanding, and important tasks in the battles that lay ahead. A few generals had given curious looks or raised brows at the idea, but there had been no serious objection.
But Stukov had another idea.
Stukov fully remembered the Imperial Guard from his first attempt to dominate the world, how that small group of elite, highly-trained bodyguards had faithfully served him to the end, and even beyond that. But what good was a cadre of bodyguards against an army?
Instead of hundreds, there would be thousands. An army of Imperial Guards. Trained to the highest standards, armed with the most potent weapons - weapons he had meant to rearm the Red Army with years ago - and most importantly, unfailingly loyal to their "Premier."
Newly-promoted Field Marshal Kulik spared a moment to look away from his new army to glance at Stukov. Pleased by the Premier's expression, he leaned closer to speak over the din.
"It is truely a magnificant display, Premier. The Imperial Army will not dissapoint you."
Stukov's smile quirked slightly higher. "I'm sure you will have many chances to prove that in the future, Field Marshal," he replied, putting an emphasis on Kulik's new rank.
Originally, Stukov had considered giving Alexander command of the new force, but the boy was not yet ready for such a responsibility. He was still learning to adapt to Russian life, and his situation as a whole. But even Kulik had been an odd choice, and the greatest cause for concern amongst the other generals, when viewed from the outside. Kulik had never distinguished himself beyond his peers like the "Big Three," Zhukov, Konev, and Rokossovsky, nor had he demonstrated much untapped martial brilliance like Vassilevskij. But he had shown that he was dependable, against both the Germans in Europe, and the Americans in Siberia. And now this one-time Lieutenant General owed his high rank to Stukov.
Kulik nodded his agreement and returned to his original place. He had Stukov's approval. What more could he want?
The parade was almost over by now. Stukov and Kulik gave their final salutes and proceeded away from the military procession. The Premier's move caused a storm of activity from the numerous aides, officers, and newly-elevated bureaucrats that had been invited to watch from the Premier's vantage point. They quickly surrounded him, showing no menace. Stukov knew Azuren was somewhere in the cluster, watching carefully for any hostile move. He quickly passed through them, almost gliding with practiced composure.
Again, Stukov could not help but smile. Azuren was watching over him, but she could just as easily have put a knife in his back.
He allowed himself a slight, bemused chuckle.
"Field Marshal?" he called out, not looking away from the path straight ahead of him.
"Yes, Premier?" Kulik responded from close by. Stukov turned, the procession coming to a half before him.
"As you are already aware, I am very impressed by this new army," he said, more for the benefit of the crowd. "You will deploy the Imperial Army to southern Italy, where it will join General Shaposhnikov in eliminating the last vestiges of the Italian fascists on the island of Sicily."
"Of course, Premier," Kulik said, saluting sharply before detaching himself from the Premier's entourage.
Stukov turned around again and continued toward the waiting motorcade. Stukov had decided Alexander didn't need to witness the military parade.
There were better ways to spend his time than with showy displays of power, Stukov thought to himself. He had been sent on ahead to Gorkiy in preparation for Stuov's personal tour of the facility.
Stukov paused as he stepped into the waiting automobile, realizing that what was at Gorkiy would be an even more ostentateous flaunting of power than some mere parade of sixty thousand mechanized infantry.
But soon, Stukov thought with smug satisfaction, plucking idly at his premier's uniform. I will no longer have to bother with these trifling illusions.
Darks63: I think that might be best.
grayghost: Actually, I believe this AAR already qualifies as "The Return of Stukov," don't you think?
Given the catastrophic loss, I intend to take this story far further than I would have with the actual game.
rcdugga: No, unfortunately, there's too much risk involved with that. I would essentially be stabbing in the dark. What I actually did was literally take the entire game folder, delete it, and replace it with a new copy I got through.... other means.
ColossusCrusher: Is that a threat, comrade?
------------------------------
January 12th, 1944
Premier Alexei Stukov watched silently as the trucks and halftracks of the Soviet Empire's first Imperial Army made their way through Red Square, surrounded by the newly trained soldiers, dressed in resplendent uniforms and marching in perfect harmony.
Despite the facade of reserved superiority Stukov wished to convey as he looked down at the passing soldiers, contrasting sharply with the throngs of cheering civilians, he could not help but allow himself to smile at what lay before him.
Riding the momentum of the series of crushing defeats handed to the Allies by the Red Army, Stukov had announced the formation of the first Soviet Imperial Army. Ideally, it was to represent the elite core of the armed forces, a specialized shock force suited for the most difficult, demanding, and important tasks in the battles that lay ahead. A few generals had given curious looks or raised brows at the idea, but there had been no serious objection.
But Stukov had another idea.
Stukov fully remembered the Imperial Guard from his first attempt to dominate the world, how that small group of elite, highly-trained bodyguards had faithfully served him to the end, and even beyond that. But what good was a cadre of bodyguards against an army?
Instead of hundreds, there would be thousands. An army of Imperial Guards. Trained to the highest standards, armed with the most potent weapons - weapons he had meant to rearm the Red Army with years ago - and most importantly, unfailingly loyal to their "Premier."
Newly-promoted Field Marshal Kulik spared a moment to look away from his new army to glance at Stukov. Pleased by the Premier's expression, he leaned closer to speak over the din.
"It is truely a magnificant display, Premier. The Imperial Army will not dissapoint you."
Stukov's smile quirked slightly higher. "I'm sure you will have many chances to prove that in the future, Field Marshal," he replied, putting an emphasis on Kulik's new rank.
Originally, Stukov had considered giving Alexander command of the new force, but the boy was not yet ready for such a responsibility. He was still learning to adapt to Russian life, and his situation as a whole. But even Kulik had been an odd choice, and the greatest cause for concern amongst the other generals, when viewed from the outside. Kulik had never distinguished himself beyond his peers like the "Big Three," Zhukov, Konev, and Rokossovsky, nor had he demonstrated much untapped martial brilliance like Vassilevskij. But he had shown that he was dependable, against both the Germans in Europe, and the Americans in Siberia. And now this one-time Lieutenant General owed his high rank to Stukov.
Kulik nodded his agreement and returned to his original place. He had Stukov's approval. What more could he want?
The parade was almost over by now. Stukov and Kulik gave their final salutes and proceeded away from the military procession. The Premier's move caused a storm of activity from the numerous aides, officers, and newly-elevated bureaucrats that had been invited to watch from the Premier's vantage point. They quickly surrounded him, showing no menace. Stukov knew Azuren was somewhere in the cluster, watching carefully for any hostile move. He quickly passed through them, almost gliding with practiced composure.
Again, Stukov could not help but smile. Azuren was watching over him, but she could just as easily have put a knife in his back.
He allowed himself a slight, bemused chuckle.
"Field Marshal?" he called out, not looking away from the path straight ahead of him.
"Yes, Premier?" Kulik responded from close by. Stukov turned, the procession coming to a half before him.
"As you are already aware, I am very impressed by this new army," he said, more for the benefit of the crowd. "You will deploy the Imperial Army to southern Italy, where it will join General Shaposhnikov in eliminating the last vestiges of the Italian fascists on the island of Sicily."
"Of course, Premier," Kulik said, saluting sharply before detaching himself from the Premier's entourage.
Stukov turned around again and continued toward the waiting motorcade. Stukov had decided Alexander didn't need to witness the military parade.
There were better ways to spend his time than with showy displays of power, Stukov thought to himself. He had been sent on ahead to Gorkiy in preparation for Stuov's personal tour of the facility.
Stukov paused as he stepped into the waiting automobile, realizing that what was at Gorkiy would be an even more ostentateous flaunting of power than some mere parade of sixty thousand mechanized infantry.
But soon, Stukov thought with smug satisfaction, plucking idly at his premier's uniform. I will no longer have to bother with these trifling illusions.
Imperial Army? Stukov better hope that his generals and the NKVD dont start worry that he is going to make himself Tsar. That would get ugly.
Okay, perhaps this is already "The Return of Stukov", so perhaps CC's reference to Duran is more apt?
Okay, perhaps this is already "The Return of Stukov", so perhaps CC's reference to Duran is more apt?