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Estonia seems like pushover, no surprises there at least ;) .
 
grayghost: Turkey is my Finland
nods.gif


Erkki1 yup. and more will fall before me! :D

Discomb: yep, pretty unrelated :p for those that are interested, I was talking about a mod of Armageddon I'm doing, which includes a complete renovation of the tech trees. I'm about 5/9 done with that after after it, its time for the ai and the scenarios, then the events and then it'd hopefully be largely done :p

General Jac: nope, not at all ;)

VILenin: sanity? :confused:
;)

comment day again, folks!
 
well, nothing to respond to but I must note that tonight and tomorrow I'll be traveling to the States (well, tonight I'll be traveling to and staying at the airport, tomorrow I'll be flying to the States) so I won't be posting tomorrow. lucky for you guys that Saturday just happens to be a comment day, huh? :p
 
Tallinn outskirts
May 22, 1936


Vasilevskij strode into the building in the suburbs of Tallinn. It was a tall building, and well built. It had, in fact, already suffered two shells from Soviet artillery, but was still standing largely intact. It would be a perfect building for temporary headquarters, Vasilevskij thought. The majority of his staff was still somewhere back in Pärnu but he had driven forward in a mobile headquarters truck with the spearhead units and was now planning on watching and commanding from very close to the front as the battle unfolded in the streets of Tallinn. He smiled, the sharp smell smell of cordite always woke him up when he was drowsy.

As he stepped into the house, a Soviet sergeant stamped down the stairs as quickly as his legs would let him, sliding to a halt on the dusty floor before Vasilevskij. He did not salute; such actions were inadvisable in a combat zone. “Sir! The building has been cleared for resistance, none was found. I will keep a platoon in the area to make sure it remains secure!”

Vasilevskij thanked the man with a smile, nod and pat on the shoulder. The sergeant dashed out the door and back onto an open truck full of waiting soldiers, whose wheels then squealed against the cobblestones before finding their grip. The truck lurched forward toward the center of the city, followed quickly by another two trucks careening down the road. Shaking his head at such impetuousness, Vasilevskij climbed the stairs down which the sergeant had come and glanced out the window before mounting another set of stairs to go even higher. His staff was already busy unpacking some equipment to set up a temporary command post below him, but he was not concerned with that at the moment. He wanted to see the city from a good vantage point.

He reached the third floor, which allowed him to finally see above the other buildings in the area. He could see, to the left, that there was an intense firefight of some sort going on; the oily black smoke denoted that a vehicle of some sort had been knocked out and was burning. Soviet artillery was battering Estonian positions somewhere in the center of the city, near the castle that dominated Tallinn. Vasilevskij saw nothing to his right and made a mental note of that as he began climbing down the stairs again. Reaching the bottom, he saw that the temporary command post had all been set up, complete with a working radio. Tapping a subordinate on the shoulder, Vasilevskij spoke. “I want a force from the 198. Motorized Rifle Division to flank about to the east. There doesn’t seem to be any fighting there at the moment, which means that there’s at least the possibility that there aren’t any Estonian soldiers in that area. If we could get a unit in their rear, we’d be able to wrap this battle up quite quickly.”

The man nodded and ran to the radio as Vasilevskij turned to the maps of Tallinn and Estonia that had been tacked to the wall. He studied the map of Tallinn first, mentally placing the fights he had seen on the map. Good progress was being made against the Estonians, who were stretched thinly trying to defend just where the Soviets were already attacking. He was massing his 2. Tank Division and a brigade of the 198. Motorized Rifle Division for a decisive thrust into the center of the city. The 1. Tank Division was working its way around the western side of the city, probing and prodding the Estonian defenses and constantly forcing them to extend their line, thinning it in the process. He hoped that the battle group from the 198. Motorized Rifle Division would do the same in the east.

Vasilevskij smiled, he was facing Kurvits’ reinforced division again. Shifting his attention to the map of Estonia, he carefully examined the positions of the remaining Estonian forces. The defenders of Narva had broken and were streaming toward Tallinn, apparently in relatively good order according to reports. The Cavalry that had attempted to defend Voru had been smashed and was withdrawing into Tartu. The only untouched, if not untroubled, Estonian division was stationed in Tartu as well. It was very troubled, for it could not know where the Soviets would attack it, if indeed they would.

Vasilevskij’s infantry was marching into Pärnu. Zhukov had finally reached Gulbene and was raring for a fight of his own. The 2nd Baltic Front was advancing into Voru and Narva was bound to fall sometime to the 1st Baltic Front. Given the very immediate threat to Tallinn’s security, Tartu would soon stand alone. However, Vasilevskij knew that this would never happen. He looked at his watch, it was 1400. he expected the battle for Tallinn to be over in an hour at most.

037-01-BattleofTallinn.png

the battle for Tallinn and the general situation in Estonia.

Stretching, he decided to go back up to the third floor. He wished to be an eyewitness, as much as possible, to the fall of Tallinn. Striding up, he leaned on the window sill and simply looked. The burning vehicle had either been towed away or all flammables had been consumed by the fire; there was little smoke left. Through the spaces between buildings, he could see Soviet light tanks and trucks full of infantry advancing down several streets, including to the east. He smiled at this, the Estonian defenses had to be stretched to the very maximum possible. Turning away, he leaned on the wooden stair railing and called down to his headquarters. “Send in the reserves! I want victory now!”

Receiving a vague response from below, he turned back to the window and simply waited. Soon, his ears were rewarded by the squeal and clank of a multitude of tank treads. Looking about, he could see tanks, covered with infantry desperately holding onto makeshift rails on their hulls, pouring down many parallel streets, driving toward the center of the city. Leaning out of the window and looking to his right, he saw elements of the 198. Motorized Rifle Division rushing around the flank of the Estonian defenses in the distance and diving behind them. Vasilevskij smiled; it was all going as planned. The Estonian defenses were being completely overwhelmed.

He did not know how long he stayed there, standing and watching but he was interrupted as a man ran up the stairs. He was breathless from running, but straightened and saluted Vasilevskij. He held a note in his hand which Vasilevskij could already see had the seal of the government of Estonia.
 
And the last Baltic state falls before the red onslaught. If only Turkey were so easy.:D
 
Are the Estonians offering terms? Too bad they don't have anything to offer that the Soviets can't take for themselves. ;) If I were the general I wouldn't bother set up a headquarters since the campaign is already almost over. I'm sure STAVKA will have a job for his soldiers once Estonia's been annexed.
 
I guess I'll do comment day today.

grayghost: Check it out! I am writing a comment instead of Myth! HAAAAAAA HAAAAAAA HAAAAAAA!

VILenin: Stalin sucks more than a vacuum cleaner, or maybe even a black hole, or maybe even Paris Hilton. By the way did you know that Paris may play the role of Mother Teresa in an upcoming Bolywood film? I shit you not.

Update tomorrow or Myth dies a little more than usual in our next Call of Duty lan. :eek:
 
I finally got around to reading this AAR in its entirety and I was not dissappointed, well done Lukas! And seeing a picture of Anne really caught me off guard, but it was a welcome surprise. Keep up the good work! ;)
 
Good, will this AAR now focus back on the situation in Turkey? :D
 
VILenin said:
Huh, turns out Vasilevskiy has a dark side. Is there anyone on the General Staff whose mental state resembles sanity? :p

You DARE accuse the General Staff of insanity?
Stalinmotivation.jpg
 
hey y'all, I'm back home in the States now and am quite tired, though I slept 11 hours last night. anyway, on to the comments before the update! :p

grayghost: if only...;)

VILenin: Estonia was annexed, no worries there. as for Vasilevskij's soldier, they did find employment worryingly soon again...:eek:

Discomb: you're certainly going to die a little more than usual because of that laugh :p

TaylorFlame: thanks, Taylor :D

General Jac: not quite yet, sadly :p

Arilou: that's awesome :D

Edzako: yep :rofl:

update coming up!
 
9 Kilometers northeast of Bakhtara
May 24, 1936


Vacietis placed the telephone down gently, not letting Pishevari detect his anger. However, as soon as the connection between his headquarters and the foreign ministry in Teheran had been cut, he slammed his fist down in the desk, producing a resounding thud. He took a series of deep breaths, resolving to calm himself; but it was difficult, and he knew he was trying to burn a hole through the wall by merely glaring it at. Shivers ran up and down his back as he attempted to regain control of himself. He clenched his teeth and his lips turned into just another hard line marring his face. One final shiver rippled along his spine before his anger vanished, to be replaced by resignation. He collapsed into his chair and reviewed the previous hour as he had talked with Pishevari.

He had called Pishevari soon after he had received a phone call himself, from Litvinov. Litvinov had told him that the Soviet Union was finally formally at war with Iraq and that he could begin the invasion as soon as possible. Vacietis’ mind had flashed immediately to the operational plan and, thanking Litvinov, he then proceeded to call his subordinate commanders.

038-01-DOWingIraq.png

The Soviet Union declared war on Iraq on the 24th of May.

His subordinates all knew what the plan was; it was to be a broad offensive striking toward all vital Iraqi locations at once from Persian soil. Vacietis had sat back and closed his eyes, he remembered clearly, knowing that the invasion was going to succeed easily as the Iraqis could not defend on such a broad front. However, soon the trouble began. The Persian border guards were refusing to allow the columns to pass. The telephone conversation he had with Lieutenant General Apanasenko, commander of the one division 38th Rifle Corps, was repeated with every single general under his command.

“What’s the situation up there, Apanasenko?”

“It’s the Persians, sir. They won’t let us pass!”

“Insist.”

“I have. They’ve captured my chief of staff when he went to argue with them and are threatening violence if we continue moving forward.”

“Goddamnit, why?”

“They said that they have orders.”

“Orders? Orders from who? We give them orders.”

“They still see their own government as sovereign. They don’t seem to know, or accept, that their country is a mere puppet state any more.”

“And they’re backing this up with force?”

“Yes. My chief of staff is hostage and they’ve got rifles and machine guns trained on my columns. They warned that if I moved my infantry any more, they’d open fire. We’d win, of course, but it would be a bloodbath because my infantry’s just in marching order.”

“Goddamnit. Ok, tell them that you won’t move but you want your chief of staff back. Mention that I’ll be calling Teheran myself.”

“If they even know who you are. No offense meant, sir.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just do it.”

That had been the first of six conversations, all along similar lines, before Vacietis could actually contact the Persian foreign ministry. He had no doubt that Pishevari was behind such mischief and he had been determined to straighten the man out. As soon as Pishevari picked up the telephone, Vacietis had launched his barrage of accusations, questions and demands.

“Pishevari! The war against Iraq has begun but there’s no invasion taking place, because your border guards are denying my armies passage! I want to know why they are doing this, Pishevari, and I want to know now. You do know what happens to client states that defy their masters, do you not?” His voice had been hard and threatening.

By contrast, Pishevari’s had been smooth and patronizing. “Why Vacietis, I’d imagine that you’d call earlier. You forget that Persia is a sovereign state, and did not agree to be used as a platform for invading an innocent country.”

“Persia is not a sovereign state. It is a puppet of the Kremlin. You know what happens if you defy the Kremlin, do you not? You will lose your support. Soviet engineers will leave; Soviet industries will abandon your pathetic excuse of a nation. We will forcibly disarm your military and leave you out for the wolves. I hear that Equatorial Africa has over one hundred divisions already, I’m sure that this is enough men to pacify half the country if the Kremlin decides to partition Persia with them. Where will your sovereign state be, then? It will be buried, rather than simply left behind in the dust of conquest.”

Pishevari had merely laughed. “Do you seriously believe that the Kremlin will risk its precious supply of oil?”

Vacietis had felt his anger rising already, but fought it. He had recognized the need to keep his wits about him. “Not so precious. We have Maikop, we have Baku. We will have Iraq. What is Abadan compared to such black wealth? A rain drop, insignificant. The only risk I see is that to your power.”

Pishevari’s voice had turned serious. “The Soviets will not use Persia as a springboard to conquer other nations.”

“The Soviets will not improve Persia’s infrastructure. You will remain in the dark ages, where you have always belonged. The Iraqis have a claim on Abadan. If we so wish, we will set you free, allow Persia to attain juridical sovereignty. It will not, however, have the empirical sovereignty required to enforce its policies and will fall to its easterly neighbor. Iraq will take Abadan. The Soviet Union will only benefit from such an event.”

Fear had begun to creep into Pishevari’s voice. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I need to say buy one word for the Soviet to take no more interest in aiding Persia but simply wringing it for its oil. This word depends entirely on what you say next.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That is your loss. Persia will remain a weak country, forever.”

Vacietis had placed the telephone down gently, not letting Pishevari detect his anger. He slammed his fist down in the desk, producing a resounding thud, nearly blind with anger as his eyes focused on a singular point on the wall. His mind, however, was already racing. He would have to invade from the north, from Turkey. He needed to make a telephone call to Kuznetsov and determine when Turkey would finally fall. It would be a longer road, but Persia had to suffer for its arrogance. An orderly came in, wondering what the great thump had been. Vacietis looked up at him, through him, and said “Pull all engineers out of Persia. The Soviet-Persian border will be closed to all traffic moving into Persia. Set up a guard at Abadan, keep the supply of oil flowing.”
 
TaylorFlame: given that I had just defeated them...yeah, those bastards :p

Edzako: indeed. buwhahahaha!

Erkki1: yup. I will be swimming on oil! Discomb got a bit jealous :p

comment day again!
 
Yes, Myth strikes again!
 
Myth said:
yup. I will be swimming on oil! Discomb got a bit jealous :p

Not jealous! Just concerned for your health! Swimming in oil is very harmful to your body, as it can't breathe through the pores.