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Atlantic Friend said:I certainly enjoy more support than in RL - but on the other hand, I haven't Great Britain on my side.
If push comes to shove, having Austria on my side means Czecholovakia won't be attacked from the Southwest. But Hungary is now a member of the Axis, which offers Germany another route of invasion. Poland could rein Hungary back, but Poland's northern flank is now gravely threatened. As for the Soviet Union, who knows what it will do ?
All in all, it's a nice and complex situation.
What of Romania?
I don't remember their government, but Romania and Poland had a fairly strong alliance, and all the powers surrounding Hungry have good reasons to fear Hungarian expansionism. In OTL Yugo and Hungry had accords, but have they happened in ALT. If I were Romania, I'd be particularly worried seeing as a Hungry that takes Slovokia is one that will take Transylvania. As for Poland, they've always wanted to annex the rest of Lithuania, and war with Germany would let them do that, and they'd have France's consent.
But on the other hand, will Poland take any action, as the Soviets might move in. But I doubt the Czechs fear Hungry, as they have the best army in Central Europe...
Does Germany have cores on Austria? If they don't, you should mod some in there and in the Sudetenland. The population would support them I think.
GeneralHannibal said:
Romania was one of the countries I tinkered with, giving it a National-Socialist government. It seemes, though, that the Nazi implant didn't agree with Bucarest, which has rejected it for a more Centrist approach after a short COnservative transition. Now I wonder where Rumania's drifting left will leave it.
No bilateral agreements between the two nations. So far I've been making inroads with Yugoslavia in terms of popularity (+200), but its government refuses any kind of alliance. I guaranteed Yugoslavia in case of either a Hungarian, German or Soviet aggression, but I'm wary about Romania.
Indeed they would have my full consent, for the Baltic States are Fascist or National-Socialist nations, and thus are not protected by my Pax Gallica.
But they have to defeat over 15 German divisions, and probably half a dozen Lithuanian ones to do that. And French forces are on the other side of Germany. Still, that could be done.
SO far POland clearly shows it fears Russia more then the reich - 30 divisions are deployed along its borders with the USSR, versus 10-15 along the German border - and mostly near Eastern Prussia.
I'll have to look for the cores, I'm not sure. If not, Ill mod it for some Austrian/Czech provinces.
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Atlantic Friend said:Romania was one of the countries I tinkered with, giving it a National-Socialist government. It seemes, though, that the Nazi implant didn't agree with Bucarest, which has rejected it for a more Centrist approach after a short COnservative transition. Now I wonder where Rumania's drifting left will leave it.
No bilateral agreements between the two nations. So far I've been making inroads with Yugoslavia in terms of popularity (+200), but its government refuses any kind of alliance. I guaranteed Yugoslavia in case of either a Hungarian, German or Soviet aggression, but I'm wary about Romania.
Indeed they would have my full consent, for the Baltic States are Fascist or National-Socialist nations, and thus are not protected by my Pax Gallica.
But they have to defeat over 15 German divisions, and probably half a dozen Lithuanian ones to do that. And French forces are on the other side of Germany. Still, that could be done.
SO far POland clearly shows it fears Russia more then the reich - 30 divisions are deployed along its borders with the USSR, versus 10-15 along the German border - and mostly near Eastern Prussia.
I'll have to look for the cores, I'm not sure. If not, Ill mod it for some Austrian/Czech provinces.
It seems like we are talking totally differently here. I'm talking about things that happened in History (some of which can't be represented) and you're talking about gameplay.
Just saying also, but I imagine that if Poland attacked Lithuania that the USSR would attack Latvia and Estonia...
GeneralHannibal said:
It's one of the cases where gameplay and History can pretty well meet, believe me !
In terms of non-gameplay, Poland's leader are certainly eagerly looking for a land grab, if they feel France and Italy will support them. To their north, Lithuania is a tempting target, but that means Poland either provokes a war with Germany or uses such a war to take Lithuanian land.
Sooner or later, the USSR will try to take the Baltic States by force. THis could either (in non-gameplay terms) be a boon for Poland, who could join the grab without having to defeat the three Baltic armies, or in the contrary be a curse, as the possession of Lithuanian territory becomes one more source of tension between Poland and Russia.
Colonel Beck is also looking to achieve his Miedzymorce dream of a two-sea Poland. That means pushing south towards Odessa, which looks like a good opportunity target for such a land grab. Of course, this means war with Soviet Russia, and the enduring enmity of Ukrainians.
As for Romania in non-gameplay terms, it sure must look with some degree of anxiety at a Hungary that now has the official support of the Reich, and could use it as leverage to gain transsylvania. And Bulgaria, which covets the South Dobruja, could also use its renewed ties with Soviet Russia to get what it wants, while Stalin demands Bessarabia. So, if I was part of Romania's government, I'd strongly urge the King to look for some protection either in Paris or London (but what kind of protection could both nations truly offer ?) or in Berlin or Moscow, playing one against the other and trying to prevent any kind of Molotov-Ribbentrop pact regarding Romania.
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I want to thank all of the readers who commented so far, particularly General Hannibal, Eams, 4th Dimension, The Executer, Draco Rexus, Adamc1776, Vann the Red, St Nylan, R.2 La R. Team, and Oddman (and actually every one of you who took the time to comment), because your questions and comments truly made the story better than it would have been had I been left to my own devices.
My thanks also go to the readers, registered or not, who took time to drop by and (hopefully) enjoy the read.
My thanks also go to the readers, registered or not, who took time to drop by and (hopefully) enjoy the read.
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CHAPTER 53 : REBELLION
Ferrara, in Northern Italy, August the 3rd, 1938, 4:00 AM
“What the Hell…”
Colonel Ambrosio Zanetti woke up in the rumble of loud engines that suddenly seemed to fill his entire universe. As he lurched towards the window of the apartment he occupied within the Carabinieri barracks, still half-asleep, he was startled to see the vast courtyards flooded with electric lights. As some of the light seemed to be directed straight at him, Colonel Zanetti’s world immediately exploded into a myriad of white-blue changing forms, leaving only his recovering sense of hearing to try to make some sense out of the Pandemonium that, only a few hours before, had been the main barracks and armoury of the Ferrara Carabinieri Corps.
What’s this damn light ? Is there an emergency ? Why didn’t the watch officer wake me ?
Though still blinded by the bright light, Zanetti could hear the fracas usually associated with a large body of men assembling under the watchful eyes and sonorous voices of their NCOs, about to embark onto their trucks. Over the rumbling engines, Zanetti could only make out some of the orders, barked more than shouted by what sounded a very excitable officer.
“What’s going on ?” asked Zanetti’s wife, from the bed.
Turning towards her, Zanetti looked at his companion of many years, her tanned skin almost white under the trucks’ crude light. As he let his gaze follow Graziella’s classic figure, he reflected for the thousandth time that he was one lucky bastard alright, to have won the heart of such a beautiful woman. And a Roman to boot – to a provincial man such as Zanetti, to have won the heart of this beautiful Roman lady, with all her charm and sophistication, had never ceased to amaze him.
“Some alert, I guess. I know there weren’t any drills planned, so I guess it’s some emergency. And what are these spotlights they’re using ? That Cottinari swine, he was supposed to be on watch, why didn’t he call me ?”
Half-raising from the bed, Graziella Zanetti raised her head in rapt attention, as the fracas from the courtyard below continued to fill the bedroom. The Colonel lowered the blinds and started walking back towards the bed. If Cottinari had indeed forgotten to wake him up, then the Colonel had an idea about how to spend the time waiting for the regimental bugle to play the reveille. – and maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t punish the plump Lieutenant for this blatant violation of the rules.
“If it’s an emergency, why are they turning off the engines instead of driving out of here ?” she asked, casting her husband an inquisitive look, and letting him wonder once again what his clever wife could have seen in him to agree to marry him.
Frozen in mid-step, Zanetti listened more attentively to the sounds that came with outside. His wife was right, little by little the rumble of the trucks was dying down, as the drivers stopped their engines. Now that didn’t make any sense if the regiment was on alert, responding to an emergency. Even worse, he now could hear that the men were not boarding trucks – quite the opposite actually. They were disembarking fast, their NCOs shouting at them in rapid, excited Italian, something about seizing their….
Seizing their objectives, thought Zanetti with a sudden chill up his spine. Holy Madonna, it’s a coup !
Instantly, Zanetti felt wide awake, his every nerve twitching, and his every brain cell firing up. Over the past few weeks, he, along with the country’s entire Carabinieri Corps, had received instructions from the Interior about the necessity to discourage any sort of political adventure, either by Communist groups emboldened by the new government’s promises to grant Leftist parties the right to reform, or by groups of Black Shirts enraged by the Duce’s death. As Ferrara was an industrial town, with car makers and building companies, Zanetti had focused on checking on the very active trade unions and the militant clandestine Communist party that made this part of the peninsula Italy’s “Red Quadrilateral”. To stay on the safe side, and because the instructions from Rome had been quite clear about the subject, he had also met Console Maiani, the commanding officer of the Black Shirts’ local Legion, and nothing the diminutive officer had said or shown him had raised any kind of suspicion. During his last visit to the Legion barracks, Maiani had said he had ordered a variety of drills to keep his men busy, and indeed they had seemed calm enough, conducting a series of anti-aircraft defense drills with…
AA searchlights. The miserable little bastard ! I’m going to mop the floor with him, from here to Rome ! thought Zanetti, enraged. Well, if he doesn’t get me shot first, that is.
As searchlights blind and confuse the Carabinieri, Black Shirts seize their armoury.
“Graziella, it’s serious” said Zanetti, rushing to his wardrobe and taking his best uniform off its hanger. “A coup, maybe. Stay here, and, please, do not open to anyone. I’ll have some of my men guard the door”
“Stay here ?” she asked. “But what about you ?”
“Please, Graziella, stay here and don’t make a noise”
No sooner had he tied his belt that urgent knocks shook the apartment’s door. Colonel Zanetti raised himself as high as a Carabinieri Colonel can, all inner rage and puffed-up ego, and opened the door energetically. He was not surprised to see a Black Shirt Sergeant in front of him. Behind the black-clad man, a muscular Carabinieri corporal was trying to force his way across other Black Shirts, who were having a rough time pushing the man back. Though he did his best not to show it, Zanetti was relieved to see the tall soldier was none other than Vittorio, driver.
“Colonel Zanetti, Console Ma…” began the first Black Shirt Sergeant.
“Corporal Grandi" said Zanetti to the struggling Carabinieri as if the Black Shirt sergeant wasn't in front of him, "I want yourself and two men in front of this door, with orders not to let anyone in” said Zanetti, deliberately ignoring the Black Shirt.
"Yes sir !" immediately answered Grandi, finally breaking free of his black-clad obstalces.
One less thing to worry - and not a minor one, thought Zanetti, thanking God for his small mercies.
“Colonel, I…” started the Black Shirt again.
“Since when do you address a superior officer without saluting him first, Sergeant ?” asked Zanetti, as haughtily as possible.
The Black Shirt sergeant looked at him in sheer disbelief. Didn’t the man understand that he and his command had been captured ? That he was their prisoner ? Sergeant Piazzi had been all fire and brimstone earlier in the night, when he had ordered his platoon-sized Manipolo into the trucks, and he had laughed silently when they had neutralized the barracks' sentries. He had smiled like a wolf when they had settled the AA spotlights to blind the sleeping Carabinieri until all the trucks had arrived, and he had laughed out loud when he had personally rammed his rifle butt into the fat belly of that stupid Lieutenant who was on duty. But now he felt a little uncertainty as to how to react. Assaulting a dumb Lieutenant was all right, Hell, it was fun, even, but a full Colonel ? And one his own Colonel wanted to see immediately ? How would it sit with Console Maiani if Piazzi brought him a bloodied Zanetti ? As Sergeant Piazzi looked behind him to see where his men were and whether they’d be ready to grab Zanetti and haul him to the Colonel’s office, he noticed the immediate overtone of the men surrounding of the apartment was no longer overwhelmingly black. A dozen Carabinieri, some only half-dressed, had nevertheless pushed their way to Zanetti’s quarters, and by the way they looked at Piazzi and at the two soldiers who had come with him, it was quite clear brute force was no longer an option. Turning back to Zanetti, Sergeant Piazzi snapped an angry salute, and was further incensed to see Zanetti did not even deign look at him.
“Sir !” he fumed “Console Maiani request your presence immediately, in his office !”
“Ah, that would be Colonel Maiani is actually in my office, I guess” said Zanetti, making a point of not giving Maiani his Black Shirt rank. Finally casting a disgusted glance at the now boiling Piazzi, he hissed “Well, what are you waiting for, Sergeant ? Lead me to Colonel Maiani !”
Making an abrupt about-face, Piazzi stomped onwards, refusing to answer or look back. As he and his two men started escorting Zanetti, he could hear a snicker.
Ferrara’s Black Shirt Legion seizes control of the city on August the 3rd, 1938.
**********************
Rome, August the 3rd, 9h00
“As Professor Sfarra has made it clear in his study,” said Enrico Mattei to the assembled Cabinet members, “one of the reasons the Italian economy has always lagged behind the German, British and French ones is the lack of private capital outside of a handful of powerful industrial groups. This means Italian businessmen can only base their enterprises on the amount of money that can raised from private banks through the mortgaging of their homes and other property.”
While this earned him an encouraging nod from de Gasperi, Mattei could see how difficult it was to rally the rest of the Cabinet to his proposal. Even if most of the men assembled around the large table hadn’t hold government jobs in the Fascist era, their mindset remained shaped up by Mussolini pseudo-heroic histrionics. To them, debating the necessity to build a new battleship to defend Italy’s empire was interesting, while tedious details about banking systems simply were not.
And yet, thought Italy’s young Economy Minister, it could make us more powerful than a dozen Littorio battleships. And it will, if these crabby old men let me go forward.
“The plan I propose will be to create mixed-economy entities, in which the Italian State will invest up to 45% of the initial capital, and to modify our banking system to guarantee loans to fully private businesses in formation or which are about to modernize their equipment”
“Wait a minute” interrupted General Giuseppe Valle, Italy’s leading Air Force officer, who until then had waited impatiently for the time to discuss new procurements for the Regia Aeronautica. “That means you’ll use the State’s budget to create new businesses ? Then how will the State be able to perform his normal functions, such as national defence ?”
Mattei and de Gasperi traded a look. Valle was one of the remaining Fascist officers, who Badoglio had felt he needed to keep and even confirm because the man had the finger on the pulse of the Regia Aeronautica. Valle was a good technician, with the intelligence to keep a low profile and to downplay his being a devoted member of the Fascist party whenever he found himself at odd with Mattei. But Mattei didn’t like the man, who always seemed to know either too much or too little, using knowledge and confessions of ignorance to stall some of Mattei’s and Badoglio’s plans for the current “democratization” of the Regia. Furthermore, Foreign Minister Attolico had warned de Gasperi’s Valle’s position in the Italian cabinet was an obstacle to the betterment of Italy’s relations with Spain and Euzkadi, where his Regia bomber squadrons had left painful memories in the form of razed villages and attacked refugees columns. For this reason alone, Mattei hoped de Gasperi would soon find a way to fire the air force officer.
Enrico Mattei (first from the right) and other prominent Christian Democrats in the streets of Rome shortly after the formation of de Gasperi’s government.
“Obviously we’re going to have to raise the taxes, General” said Mattei, “That will be a necessity but the projections indicate that…”
The sudden ring of the adorned phone placed in front of de Gasperi interrupted the burgeoning argument. As the phone operators attached to the Consiglio dei Ministri had strict orders to block all calls except the most urgent ones, heads turned sharply towards the President of the Council who, frowning and surprised, picked up the phone.
“Pronto. De Gasperi here”
Immediately he rose a hand to signal the Cabinet to remain silent.
“Who ? What ?”
Now de Gasperi’s face was undergoing through a series of emotions, ranging from disbelief to shock and anger. As every Minister the table looked intently at the Prime Minister of Italy’s first post-Fascist government, the tension around the table rose imperceptibly.
“When ? When did that happen ?”
Whatever it was, it was serious, and judging by the way de Gasperi was scribbling on his notepad, it was clear the Cabinet’s agenda for the day had been turned upside-down. The ministers looked at each other, questioning each other silently about the possible cause of the interruption. As anxious eyes met only worried or equally questioning looks, the Ministers finally waited.
“I see. Tell this woman that I thank her, and that all of Italy thanks her”
Placing the phone back on its gilded receiver, de Gasperi sighed heavily, pushing his spectacles up his forehead and massaging the bridge of his nose.
“Gentlemen” he finally said, after a short pause, “it seems that something akin to a coup is under way. In Ferrara, the local Black Shirt Legion has apparently seized every official building, and captured or won to its side the local police and army forces. They have notably occupied the local Carabinieri barracks, and captured its commanding officers, but his wife and his chauffeur have apparently managed to slip from the occupied barracks and have found refuge at a friend’s whose phone she just used to warn us. They say the whole city is controlled by the Black Shirts and their sympathizers, mostly local members of the Fascist Party”
Pausing, de Gasperi cast a meaningful look at Generals Valle and Pariani, the two prominent Fascists in his government. While Valle was shrewd enough to blend in the rest of the Christian Democrat government, Pariani, who was still in charge of the Italian Army, had always been more vocal about his devotion to the memory of the fallen Duce. Until now, de Gasperi had found both men to be hard workers, and rather amicable, but he had always wondered which side they would jump if some conflict broke out with the Fascist Party leadership. Looking straight into Pariani’s eyes, he went on.
“According to this woman, the Black Shirts are commanded by a Console Maiani” said de Gasperi. “Is this informationt correct, General Pariani ? Is there such a man up North ?”
“I think so, Mr Prime Minister – I know for sure there’s a Console Maiani in Emilia-Romagna” said Pariani, his eyes betraying nothing.
“This Maiani apparently managed to win the hearts of his entire Legion, who’s now requisitioning trucks and weapons from the Carabinieri and Army barracks, and clearly plans to lead his now heavily armed men out of the city. It seems they have been given access to Army supplies without a fight, General Pariani. Also, they have anti-aircraft guns, that clearly come from the Regia Aeronautica’s depots, General Valle. As there are no Regia bases in Ferrara itself, I’d like to know how this Maiani came into possession of all this materiel.”
Every man in the room was watching them intently, and the most inquisitive and disquieting look of all was that of Defence Minister Badoglio, who seemed about to rise from his chair to throttle both men. As the rest of the Cabinet members held their breath, they could see how differently the two men were reacting to the implied accusations. Blushing violently, Valle was looking intently at his notepad, as if the answers to de Gasperi’s questions could be conjured up if he looked hard enough. In stark contrast to his crestfallen colleague, Pariani clenched his fists and looked back angrily at de Gasperi. The object of his anger, though, did not seem to be in the room. Finally, trembling with what seemed to be rage, General Pariani rose to his feet and walked across the room to Valle, putting a hand on the shaken Air Force general’s shoulder.
Ah thought de Gasperi. The moment of truth…or not.
“Giuseppe, tell us you had no knowledge of this” he said calmly. “Tell me”
As no answer came, Pariani looked deep and hard into the Air Force General’s eyes. The almost imploring look he got in return took Pariani aback. He had hoped to see denial, and innocence in his colleague’s eyes, or at worst at least some defiance. Instead, Pariani was disgusted to only see mere admission. His hand shot forward almost from its own volition, and slapped Valle hard in the face.
“Traitor ! ” spat Pariani, as Badoglio rushed to the door to call some of the Corrazieri soldiers from de Gasperi’s security detail.
“Mr Prime Minister” said Pariani, his voice sharp and icy as a blade under the rigid restraint he was clearly exerting, “Mr Defence Minister. Maiani is clearly attempting a march against the government. It’s a rebellion, an act of treason, and it has to be dealt accordingly. Just give me the word, and I’ll send an overwhelming force nip it in the bud”
“Field-Marshal Badoglio” said de Gasperi, after another pause spent trying to read Pariani’s eyes. “I of course agree with General Pariani. I want a plan within the hour, devised by yourself and General Pariani. It’ll have to take into account that Maiani probably has sympathizers out of Ferrara he wants to co-opt or make his junction with at some point, before they march on Rome. Ah, and before you leave, gentlemen : General Valle is temporarily suspended, until it can be ascertained whether he had any part in this.”
Shaken, his cheek still sporting the white-red mark of Pariani’s slap, Valle made no move to resist when the Corrazieri Tenente took him by the arm to lead him to house arrest.
“Well”, said de Gasperi, who now felt he had the situation firmly under control. “I think, my friends, that we can adjourn the Cabinet meeting”
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[Game effects : On August the 3rd, 1938, the Italian province of Ferrara wakes up under the control of rebel Partisans ! Important forces are stationed in Turin, Milan, and Rome, but no forces stand between the rebels and the Italian capital. They could also march West and take some of the Po valley under their control. As Italy is fully independent (no MilCon), I’m now waiting to see how de Gasperi’s Italy will react – I’ll only intervene if (or when) the rebels take control of a province bordering France.
In our timeline, Enrico Mattei was the father of the development of Italy’s semi-public economy, which fuelled the country’s economic development after WW2. ]
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Direct military intervention isn't the same as direct intelligence intervention, is it?
How exactly did you set this up, via event or save game editing, and is there a risk that the fascists will form up the RSI and turn this into a fullblown civil war?
Whose side is Badoglio on, and where's Balbo and the other top fascists (Graziani etc.)?
Brilliant stuff, as always!
How exactly did you set this up, via event or save game editing, and is there a risk that the fascists will form up the RSI and turn this into a fullblown civil war?
Whose side is Badoglio on, and where's Balbo and the other top fascists (Graziani etc.)?
Brilliant stuff, as always!
I think Italy was hit by lot of dissent after Mussolinis death, and rebelling was done by game engine, randomly.
4th Dimension said:
Yes, that is a possibilty too, but it feels like it's been so long that it should have gone down to levels where the revolt risk is minimal. Besides, I almost never see revolts, even when the revolt risk is up to 15-20% or more.
I didn't set it up at all, though I was very pleased with the event since it gave credence to the developing story about Italy's political transition.
In strictly game terms, I guess the dissent came from the coup's aftermath - either the coup itself or the immediate alliance with France with a still-partly Fascist government in power, just like you can get events if your actions contradict your country's ideological position (or so I heard).
In this storyline, Balbo and Graziani have been pushed aside by de Gasperi and the King during the forming of the Christian Democracy government. They are still high-ranking members of the still-legal Fascist Party, and they may very well have played a part in the Ferrara coup.
The Italian government has steered away from Fascism, but cannot appear to be an anti-Fascist one - hence the presence of Pariani and Valle at important posts within the Army. Whether they suspect otherwise or not, Italians have been told Mussolini had died as a hero and martyr. Therefore, Fascism is not discredited as a party - it's just becoming one among others now, as it was before the 1922 March on Rome.
As for Badoglio, he has never been a true Fascist, unlike Graziani who's a real hardliner. As such he has been approached by the Vatican and de Gasperi to play his part during the "transition" made necessary by Mussolini's death. As we saw him clearly waiting with Loustaunau-Lacau and de Gasperi for the phone call announcing the Duce's death, Badoglio is one of the very few people to actually know for a fact what transpired in Venice. He presently is Italy's Defence Minister, and a prominent voice to advise King Vittorio-Emanuele.
In strictly game terms, I guess the dissent came from the coup's aftermath - either the coup itself or the immediate alliance with France with a still-partly Fascist government in power, just like you can get events if your actions contradict your country's ideological position (or so I heard).
In this storyline, Balbo and Graziani have been pushed aside by de Gasperi and the King during the forming of the Christian Democracy government. They are still high-ranking members of the still-legal Fascist Party, and they may very well have played a part in the Ferrara coup.
The Italian government has steered away from Fascism, but cannot appear to be an anti-Fascist one - hence the presence of Pariani and Valle at important posts within the Army. Whether they suspect otherwise or not, Italians have been told Mussolini had died as a hero and martyr. Therefore, Fascism is not discredited as a party - it's just becoming one among others now, as it was before the 1922 March on Rome.
As for Badoglio, he has never been a true Fascist, unlike Graziani who's a real hardliner. As such he has been approached by the Vatican and de Gasperi to play his part during the "transition" made necessary by Mussolini's death. As we saw him clearly waiting with Loustaunau-Lacau and de Gasperi for the phone call announcing the Duce's death, Badoglio is one of the very few people to actually know for a fact what transpired in Venice. He presently is Italy's Defence Minister, and a prominent voice to advise King Vittorio-Emanuele.
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Hello Atlantic Friend! I've been lurking for a while, but I thought what better way than to come out and say I've passed this weeks WritAAR of the Week award over to you!
So congratulations on a brilliant AAR and on the AwAARd, come on over the the AwAARd thread
So congratulations on a brilliant AAR and on the AwAARd, come on over the the AwAARd thread
GeneralHannibal said:
In game terms, I'm curious what will happen it they do reach Rome - would a Fascist Italy rise from its grave ? Even if it doesn't seem probable, given the vast number of Italian units around, they could take over most of Northern Italy - would the Republica Sociale Italiana could come into existence earlier than it did historically, in that case ?
Story-wise, if they reach Rome then it will be a return to power of the Fascist hardliners indeed, and de Gasperi will either have to flee in exile or to rally Loyalist units to regain power.
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I'm consistently amazed by your ability to take seemingly random in-game events and build plausible, enjoyable stories from them, AF. Kudos!
Vann
Vann
Vann the Red said:
Ah, thank you, Vann. Actually, I may write something for the AARlander about the interest of keeping minor plots in reserve so as to appropriately dress up a game result.
Next update should be very soon, I'd say Thursday evening, GMT. Along with maybe one more update, it'll close this series of "background" stories before we get on with the main plot - and game results.
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CHAPTER 54 : OFFENSIVES
Paris, the Parc des Princes stadium, August the 3rd, 1938
“Comrades !”
Léon Blum, his voice trembling with conviction and exaltation, was now moving towards the end of his speech. So far the crowd had seemed to move to the rhythm of his eloquence, his energy, his evident sincerity. With every sentence the crowd moved like an immense wheat field under a strong gale. This image firmly in mind, Leon Blum felt tears forming in his eye as the crowd’s visible emotion embraced him.
“Workers of France ! Mothers of France ! Free men and women of France ! “
The crowd exploded in a massive cheer that to Blum felt like a live chthonian thing, coming from beyond the men and women who were standing below his tribune in the tens of thousands. The vast stadium, despite of its wide alleys and massive dimensions, seemed barely able to contain the multitude that had come to hear the now uncontested leader of the opposition. Eight months after having struck a deal with Daladier’s Radicals, Léon Blum had rallied under his banner nearly every party currently opposing de La Rocque, after more than four years of Croix de Feu rule.
Socialist-Radicals flock to the Parc des Princes to hear Leon Blum’s address to the Nation.
“For four years now, we have been told that France’s honour makes it necessary to spend more on an aggressive praetorian army, and less on the protection of France’s children. For four years we have been told France’s grandeur makes it necessary to spend more on foreign adventures, and less on France’s families ! For fours years we have been told that France should come first, and French people second !”
Facing Blum, the multitude was drinking his every word, led by his trembling eloquence, his sincere indignation. For the tens of thousands who had come from their factories, their offices or their homes, France was now at a crossroads, about to make one giant step forward on a path that would led to a social progress yet unknown, to such progress in fact that no one could truly envision it yet. With his “Peace, Justice, Freedom” slogan he had personally devised and imposed to the Socialist Party and its allies, Léon Blum felt he had been able to capture France’s most sincere aspirations, and the true meaning of France’s every revolution so far. He felt, deep within his heart, that the workers, teachers, farmers, clerks and soldiers present today wanted nothing more than these simple yet essential things that a cruel History, and now a partisan government, had denied them for too long.
“We have been misled by this government, which shouldn’t come as a surprise to any of us ! This is a government of agitators, born out of riots, bound to spread strife. These men know nothing of France ! They do not understand that France is never more honourable than when she takes cares of her mothers, of her children, of her elderly. They do not understand that France is never greater than when she defends peace at home, and peace abroad. They do not understand that France cannot be herself when she leaves her own behind !”
Throughout the country, on every wall, posters called Frenchmen to arms. It was the general mobilization of every Frenchman over 21, to fight the greatest battle of all times – or at least of the Republican times. In May, voters would flock to the voting stations to elect France’s new Congressmen, the very men that would form the country’s lawmaking body. France was now divided in two irreconcilable halves, at least for the duration of the campaign. “Peace, Justice, Freedom” said Léon Blum and the Socialist-Radicals. “Work, Family, Motherland” shot back de La Rocque and the Parti Social Français. In every bar, in every factory, in every store, at every family dinner, people were debating, while during rival political meetings political activists clashed more vigorously with each other.
“These men know nothing of France, and we therefore deny them the power to lead the country anywhere any longer. We want a real government, one which listens to the workers, one which listens to the people, one which listens to France ! The Socialist-radical government I propose will have but one right, to serve you. It will have but one law, to protect and expand your freedoms. My fellow countrymen, our government will work with the French society, not against it. Our government will work to expand our present freedom, not restrain it. It will support a strong and generous economy, and will make sure wealth is more fairly redistributed. It will take criticism, and will thrive on it !”
When striking the deal with Daladier’s radicals, Léon Blum had found the issue of the economic program that would be proposed by the joint political platform to be a relatively minor issue. Despite of the fears of some ill-informed Radicals, and despite of some of the rhetoric of his much younger years, Blum had no intention to propose a shift to a Communist Society. Like many Socialists, Blum knew his countrymen were farmers at heart, faithfully saving money to buy a home, a car, maybe some land, and woe to the government who would want to introduce them to the joys of collectivization. Maurice Thorez and his Communists might still dream about it, wherever they now were, but Blum knew the only way to abolish property in France would be to take things by force – which defeated the very purpose of the Bolshevist dream. Daladier had thus been pleasantly surprised to hear the Socialist leader immediately state their government should work within the limits of the Capitalist system and strive to enhance its virtues, correct its excesses.
“In the coming battle, we will need a leader, one who, placed under your permanent and watchful control, will exert his authority fully. I know I have never talk to you as I do today ! You know that what little esteem you might have for me, I owe it to years of persuasion and negotiations. But today’s battle is different, because the system is different. Under these new circumstances, we need a man to stand up and defend our perception of the Republic. Today, a new man must emerge from its old self. I know that I have your trust, and I vow I will keep earning it. I do not know if I have what it takes to lead you in such a difficult battle. I cannot know it yet, nor can you. This will be our common challenge, yours and mine alike. But I swear to you that I’ll never waver, I’ll never renounce, I’ll never betray. Do not get me wrong, I do not come before you as a burdened man, I do not ask you to spare me this ordeal. Yes, my friends, I am here because I desired it, because I wanted it, and because together we’ll lead France to its greater victory ever, the victory of its Republic.”
Léon Blum takes up the gauntlet for France’s 1939 presidential election.
The question of the type of regime, on the other hand, had been considerably more complex for the Socialist-Radicals. With the implementation of the 1935 Constitutional reform that had brought France’s Fourth Republic into existence, the country had moved from a parliamentary regime to a semi-presidential one, where the President of the Republic now held considerable powers. While the timid leadership of President Albert Lebrun was in itself a guarantee the Elysée Palace was not contemplating a Napoleon III-like Constitutional coup, there were many fears among the opposition leaders that the 1939 presidential election could actually bring an end to a truly democratic rule in France. Daladier in particular suspected de La Rocque of planning such a move, using the power of his new Constitution to suspend the republic somehow, and Blum thought he was reorganizing the French Army to this effect, with the creation of a professional mechanized corps as a Praetorian guard. The Socialist-Radical leadership had thus tried to find a way to include a realistic return to a true parliamentary regime, testing the water with local party members. In the end, sympathetic young technicians working for the newly-established National Statistic Institute had provided information that had stunned the Soc-Rad leaders. In fact, the young experts had said, the 1935 reforms had gained more support from people normally affiliated with the Socialist-Radical than it had from Conservatives. Furthermore, the polled Soc-Rad voters had said the content of the reforms had been a major reason for their vote, while most Conservatives had voted them out of party discipline. As a result, campaigning for their suppression would erode the Left’s voter base without making any inroads with the Right’s. That argument had won the day, and Blum had finally been convinced the greater power granted to the president of the Republic could be used for the greater good – thus making the Presidential election the most important one, and throwing the Soc-Rad campaign calendar off the window.
“Together, we shall we heard ! Together, we shall prevail ! Together, we’ll bring France a spring of peace ! A spring of justice ! A spring of freedom !”
“Peace ! Justice ! Freedom !” echoed ten thousands mouths, as the sun of August seemed to be a foretaste of that bright future.
Peace. Justice. Freedom, thought Inspector Antoine Mouriez, from the Renseignements Généraux. Jotting down a quick summary of Blum’s speech on his pocket notepad, he remained oblivious to the hostile looks he and his younger colleague Joubert were getting from some of the men present.
And to think I’ll probably vote for the same guy, he thought, shrugging.
Antoine Mouriez had stopped trying to understand human nature years ago, and was now content to record its political expression. His seniority and experience in political affairs could have earned Mouriez an enviable job in the newly-formed Anti-Communist section tasked with hunting down clandestine Bolshevist cells, but Mouriez had always turned down every such offer from his superiors. The Political Affairs section of the Renseignements Généraux was in charge of keeping an eye on France’s various political parties, and that suited Mouriez’ contemplative nature just fine.
Sighing, the policeman pocketed his pen and looked toward the tribune where Blum was saluting the cheering crowd with his wide-brimmed hat. He nodded appreciatively, then took a deep breath to take in the various smells of that August afternoon. There was the appetizing smell of French fries and spicy sausages that food vendors had been frying all morning, the bittersweet smell of the sweat and cigarettes coming from the multitude who had remained here for more than an hour under a punishing sun, and there was the more subtle fragrance of the red wine some of the men had brought to resist the heat. To Mouriez, who had been born a stone’s throw from the Eiffel Tower and had never gone further than the capital’s industrial suburbs, there was above all the smell of a glorious Parisian summer.
Peace, Justice, Freedom. Who would fight against that indeed ? mused Mouriez, using his white Borsalino as a fan to fight the stifling heat. Certainly not me.
“Stop daydreaming, petit” said Mouriez, giving a nudge to his young colleague, who was looking at a pretty young woman in the crowd. Startled, the young man blushed and cleared his throat.
“Tell you what, it’s a nice day, let’s go grab a beer and a sandwich somewhere before we go back to the Pointed Tower to write our report.”
Humming to himself, Antoine Mouriez walked quietly away from what had to be France’s most important political event of the year.
A ravaged field in Metz, August the 4th, 1938
“Excuse me an instant, Mr President” said General Charles de Gaulle, leaning towards his aide de camp. “De Courcel, signal to all Blue and Red companies that the exercise is over, and ended with a clear Blue victory”
“So it's victory, General ?”, asked President Lebrun, looking around him as the tanks from the 501ème Régiment de Chars de Combat, which had simulated an armoured assault on a reinforced infantry brigade. The devastated field around them had been turned upside down by several dozen Hotchkiss light tanks as they had danced around the “Red” enemy units, cutting infantry companies from their rear echelons and racing them down to their fall-back positions.
“Yes, Mr President. The absolute worst thing, according to Napoleon – except maybe a lost battle. Do you want to meet with the ‘Blue Force’ crews ? After all, according to our battle scenario, today they scored a major victory for France”
“Well, that’s a good idea. Let’s meet our brave knights, then” said Lebrun, who had spent the best part of the last hour with de Gaulle’s staff officers had fought an unusual excitement at seeing the armoured spearhead run roughshod over the bereft infantry units. The officers commanding both “Blue” and “red” forces had been excited, for a division-sized war drill was the opportunity of a lifetime, even more so when it gave them the opportunity to impress the haughty commander of the Ecole de Guerre. As the battle developed, the junior officers of both camps had tried to outsmart each other. Here a tank company had managed to reach Red Force’s supply depot. There, a battalion of infantry had buckled under the onslaught and had blunted the offensive, forcing the adventurous tanks into a defensive battle. Lebrun, despite of his responsibilities during the Great War, had never been this close to a battle, even a simulated one, and soon he had felt the adrenalin rushing in his blood as Blue Force finally broke free of the main defence line and focused on capturing their enemies’ artillery and headquarters.
You stupid old fool, he had chastised himself. This is not a game, Albert. This is war, all the more brutal since it’s seconded my mechanical force. If that had been the real thing, how many of these tanks would be burning down in this field, their young, eager crewmembers agonizing in a horrible, sizzling death ? In the meanwhile you would read the battle reports, safe in your comfortable armchair, just like you did last time, you selfish old fool.
President Lebrun attends General de Gaulle’s armoured manoeuvres.
“Tell me, General” Lebrun finally said, as they reached an area where a company of H-35 tanks was assembling, “this mechanized force. Is it irresistible ?”
“No, Mr President”, said de Gaulle after a pause. “It can be defeated, by a greater mechanized force of course, but also by an enemy commanding the skies over the battlefield. It can even be defeated by an infantry force, if it is adequately equipped, adequately trained, and adequately led. The men you saw defeat one of the 501’s companies on the Merzé road two hours ago are Spahis, seasoned veterans from Spain, and had the very best anti-tank equipment of their battalion.”
“So the Germans soldiers, they too could stop us ?”
“They could. If it comes to war with Germany, they will – at some points on the map. But an armoured offensive offers the attacker the opportunity to shift the battle’s balance rapidly, and to focus on the point where the enemy cannot hold. Red Force’s stubborn resistance on the Merzé road stopped the offensive in that sector, but as soon as enough other Red units had been forced to retreat, the Spahis had no choice but to retreat, or risk being cut from the rest of their unit and destroyed piecemeal”
Closely followed by Lieutenant de Courcel and Lebrun’s personal secretary, the two men stopped to admire a row of tanks whose engines were clanking slightly as their parts cooled down.
“I have heard Congressman Blum talk against the expansion of your mechanized corps, you know ? He fears you want to create some sort of Praetorian unit, manned by engineers and technicians, protecting the interests of the upper class…”
“So the regime can fight the workers ?” interrupted de Gaulle with a sneer, as he lit his twentieth cigarette of the day. “What a tragedy to see no further than this class warfare fantasy ! The 501ème RCC officers have their fair share of aristocrats, I’ll grant Mr Blum that, but how far would they go without their Plebeian drivers and mechanics ? It’s sheer nonsense”
“Blum thinks…” began Lebrun.
“Not when he spews such nonsense he doesn’t” scoffed de Gaulle. “Look at these men, Mr President. Do you think they want to fight each other – or Mr Blum’s Socialist-Radicals ? No, Mr President. They want to fight the Boches, they want to defeat France’s enemies, and they’ve given you the tool to do just that !”
“You want a war, General ?” suddenly asked Lebrun, looking up from the rows of tanks lined up in front of him.
Taking a second to think the question through, de Gaulle took a deep puff from his cigarette. Two steps behind him, Lieutenant de Courcel visibly winced, bracing himself for the coming Gaullian sarcasm that was bound to follow. He had no doubt the Old Man was about to descend Mount Olympus again, and this time the sacrificial lamb was no less than the President of the Republic. How the Old Man managed to save his position was beyond the loyal aide.
“I want France to be great, Mr President” he said in a sonorous voice. “And France is best made great by the sword. The sword is the axis of the world, Mr President, and greatness cannot be divided. To think otherwise is belittling France as well as belittling oneself”
Half an hour later, as his motorcade was leaving Metz, Lebrun found himself still thinking of the deep, reproachful voice. He had blushed in anger and embarrassment. He had been about to remind this haughty General who he was addressing, but when he had looked into the man’s eyes, words had failed him, and he had changed the subject, mollifying de Gaulle with technical questions about his beloved tanks. Words had failed him, and he had refused the confrontation.
Like so often, Albert. Like so often.
Sighing, his eyes lost in the blurry countryside passing by, President Lebrun decided it was time for him to renounce politics. He had had a full and rich political career, he had held very senior Cabinet positions, and he had been Poincaré’s War Minister during these murderous four years that had changed the whole world. He had worked with, and sometimes opposed, great leaders, men of wisdom, men whose views he respected even when he disagreed with them. He had seen politics bring out the best out of many men, and the worst out of so many more. He had seen War’s horrors, and experienced Peace’s daunting tasks.
All these years had taken their toll, and Albert Lebrun now only aspired to peace, the company of his friends and family, and that of a few good books. It was time for another man to lead the country. Over the past few months Lebrun had thought about his succession in the coming year. As the leading figurehead of the Centre’s Democratic Alliance, Lebrun felt personal and political affinities with Socialist-Radicals and Conservatives alike, and by doing so he would give the candidate he’d support a serious advantage in the coming presidential race. Until now he had been unable to reach a decision, but now he thought he knew.
“Henri” said Lebrun, turning towards his secretary “I think it’s time for me to go tend my garden. Next year will be my last in public office, I think"
“Mr President ?” asked the younger man, startled.
“I did my time. Don’t worry, Henri, I’ll make sure you find a suitable position”
The secretary nodded. He had known all along Lebrun wouldn’t try to get another term – France’s new political system made it very improbable he could win one anyway – but he had thought the man would settle for a Senate charge, as many elderly politicians did. To hear his boss talk so calmly of his political retirement – his political death, actually – was a bit troubling, particularly since Henri Lasnes had known Lebrun for years, and had always had a genuine admiration for his President’s human qualities.
“Have you decided who you’re going to support ?”
“Yes indeed, my dear Henri”
As Lebrun whispered the name of his probable successor, Lasnes nodded gravely.
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[Game effects :
France renounces the doctrines of Trench Warfare, Mass Assault, and Grand Battle Plan, as the Ecole de Guerre switches to a more offensive role. A third Armoured Division, equipped with AMX Basic Light Tanks, is put under production, along with another wing of Potez-633 CAS aircraft. To coordinate with the future armoured spearheads, the Armée de l’Air develops its Direct Ground Support doctrine. The French navy remains adequate for facing the Germans, but lags behind in terms of modern carriers and battleships. France’s industry is reorganized by Louis Renault, whose company develops Production Control
Working alongside Alan Turing’s principles and experimenting with commercial-grade Enigma machines, Louis de Broglie develops Improved Encryption devices.
The “Election Times” event is fired every two years for France, given the country’s historical instability. For the purpose of this AAR, I’ll just select “keep the same government” until 1940, and then the elections will only happen every 6 years. For the coming 1939 presidential election, the runners-up are Colonel François de La Rocque and Leon Blum, both adjusted for a 1939 Head of State role.]
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