The United States: 'Prophets of a New Order'

History_Buff: Oh, well, the short answer is yes. I just don't have any transports.

jmberry/Eams/Nathan Madien/Andreios II: I must confess, my knowledge of the Spanish claimants to the throne is sketchy. Alfonso is dead from a stroke, Xavier, despite being leader of the failed Carlist faction in the civil war, is still lurking around somewhere, as are Alfonso's brothers and children. Since Juan Carlos is too young, leadership of the family likely falls to one of Alfonso's brothers, Jaime or Juan.

Personally, I haven't looked at Spain's minister files too closely yet. America's got to win the war before they can start thinking of who should take over after the occupation.

Though, when you think about it, there's a lot of people floating around with claims to power. The German Kaiser's sitting in Dar es Salaam waiting for British tanks to evict him, the Pope's floating around, Reed's still bopping around Paris, Fritz Kuhn's playing hide and seek with J. Edgar Hoover, Ho Chi Minh is sight-seeing in Xi'an, and last but not least, Edward VII is still in Canada stewing over getting cheated out of Britain. Hell, Trotsky might even still be alive somewhere for all I know!

Timbrizcha: Bah! Figures my fans would be grammar Nazis!

Enewald: Well, some of them, at least. Don't forget what being cut off from Madrid will mean to all the Spanish divisions outside of the pocket...

Parokki: Actually, they were quite good at stopping my first encirclement attempt at Siguenza. It's just that they're too stupid to not pile everyone in one province when they do.

Viden: Yeah, I admit that was pretty weird. At least Franco's not in their leader pool. Though it's not much weirder than the fact that, if I really wanted to, I could still use Generals Patton and Patch, or back in the civil war when Marshall, Stillwell, and Kaiser were enemy ministers. :wacko:

1945 - Part VIII

When news of the fall of Zaragoza and with it the encirclement of as many as sixty Syndicalist divisions reached the United States, President Truman's political troubles seemingly vanished immediately. Pressure from both hostile media and Congressional opponents fell off markedly, and the Social Progressives were becoming accommodating once again. Astute enough to realize that this reprieve was only temporary, the President was nevertheless relieved by the favorable reversal of fortune. It was with great confidence that on September 30 that Truman announced a sizable increase in funding for the FCA. Though the majority of its resources had been diverted to fund the war effort, the FCA had continued to construct additional factories across the country to great effect. Modern and efficient, these factories had allowed the United States to steadily ramp up its war production without jeopardizing production of consumer products.

Fresh off the news of victories in Spain, Truman could expect little serious opposition from Republican Congressmen. Popular with workers and supported by Social Progressives, the FCA's budget issue was a perfect political maneuver to complement the military successes. Combined with a round of new reciprocal trade agreements with several Latin American nations and Britain, the increased budget for the FCA would admittedly diminish America's war production in the short-term, but only to a negligible extent. Consequently, the administration's new appropriation bill sailed through the House in short order. Truman reportedly reassured Wallace during a White House meeting, 'I haven't forgotten about the New Deal, and this war can't last forever.'

But for as much as the world focused its attention on events unfolding in Spain and elsewhere in Europe, the rest of the world was not quiet. Indeed, processes begun a half century earlier were about to set a revolutionary chain of events in motion within China. Long the victim of imperialist powers, the once mighty Chinese nation had suffered terribly in the last hundred years. Following the German victory in Europe, the armies and navies of the Kaiser had fanned out across the globe. One such army had been integral in restoring the Manchu dynasty in the form of the child-emperor Pu-Yi. After the last of Sun Yat-Sen's republican forces had been dispersed by force of German arms during its heroic but ultimately futile Northern Expedition at the gates of Nanking, China was reduced to the status of a German colony in all but name. Epitomizing the depths to which the once-great Middle Kingdom had now sunk was the German Far East Company, a vast colonial administration that essentially governed all of southern China. On paper, the company merely held stewardship of the territories 'granted' by the emperor, but the constant threat of intervention and the many German officials in every branch of the Beijing government ensured the Qing enjoyed no authority over China south of the Yangtze.

In 1937, Pu-Yi had emerged from his relative insignificance by reaching out to the Chinese people directly with his so-called 'New Reformation.' No longer stymied by his German advisors, the emperor promised to restore Chinese greatness, expel the imperialist powers, and modernize the nation. With few alternatives, millions of Chinese openly and enthusiastically embraced the promise of reform. To make good on his promise, in February 1938, Pu-Yi announced the nationalization of all company assets within the borders of China. Almost overnight, the company's colonial armies were either disarmed or deserted, while mobs of peasants and Qing officials seized customs houses, factories, railway lines, harbors, and all other bastions of German control.

The emperor's popularity was at an all-time high, but quickly began to erode in the following months as it became apparent that the 'New Reformation' was a hollow promise to ordinary Chinese. For all his talk, it seemed Pu-yi had never intended to disrupt the socio-economic order of the land, but merely to aggrandize the Manchu state once again. While it remains debatable whether or not Beijing actually had the power or resources at its disposal to reform the nation, most Chinese quickly became disillusioned and disgusted once again with the Qing. For the next five years, the Qing dynasty continued to cling to life in much the same way it had in the past, by relying on the local landlord gentry, many of whom ruthlessly exploited the desperately poor peasants, and a large and corrupt army.

But the spark of revolutionary spirit had not been snuffed out completely in China. As a testament to the deplorable state of the Qing government, much of the western provinces remained in the hands of warlords and petty despots. But Shaanxi province was ruled by a very different sort of rebel: the Shangqing Tianguo (or 'Kingdom of the Pure One') of Zhang Tianran. The spiritual successors to the great Taiping rebels of the 1850s and 60s, the Shangqing had grown from a small religious cult into a full-fledged state based out of Xi'an, the ancient capital of China. Although a bizarre mixture of Chinese philosophical traditions and Western religions, the charismatic Zhang Tianran and his second-in-command and 'wife', Sun Suzhen, had nevertheless gained a significant following in the dark days following the failure of the Northern Expedition in 1925. Bolstered by the influx of communists and republicans who managed to survive the purges carried out by the Germans, the Shangqing soon developed a powerfully compelling ideology that called for nothing short of the full unification and modernization of China. Popular support was gained with the implementation of a vigorous land reform policy that brought relief to millions of destitute peasants, and industrial projects at Xi'an and Yan'an demonstrated to all Chinese that the Shangqing were true reformers and modernizers.

But the Shangqing, eager to avoid the same fate that had befallen Hong Xiuquan and the Taiping, could not openly challenge Pu-Yi's rule over most of China. Despite the reforms of the peasant militias carried out by Zhu De, the Shangqing's disciplined armies were simply too few and too ill-equipped to defeat the Qing armies in the open battles neccesary to reclaim China. Nevertheless, Zhang could not tolerate sitting idly by as China continued to languish 'shackled by the chains of evil demons and their corrupt minions.' Thus, a long-term infiltration policy was put into action; sending out countless agents across the length and breadth of China, the Shangqing steadily developed a following outside of Shaanxi. By 1945, these operations were bearing fruit. On October 1, Zhang announced a 'holy crusade' to overthrow Pu-Yi: "I am sent by Heaven as the true ordained Sovereign to exterminate the depraved and preserve the upright. Virtuous men need not fear the Soldiers of the Pure Way. Instead, let them embrace the cause and restore China to greatness.'

The Shangqing leader's call to arms rocked China to its very foundations. Countless peasants rose up against their landlord masters and Shangqing troops began to pour across the frontiers, smashing apart the surprised and poorly disciplined Qing troops. Already infested by Shangqing agents, sympathizers, and supporters, Qing army units began to defect en masse and declare themselves for the rising. Baoding fell to combined army and peasant units almost an hour after receiving word of the Shangqing attack on October 5, Nanning far to the south several hours later, then Taiyuan just before nightfall. The chain reaction continued for several days as entire divisions tore down the Qing flag and raised the yellow and red of the Shangqing, while others, sensing the winds of change, threw down their arms and deserted. Riots erupted in Bejing as local garrisons joined the people, forcing Pu-Yi and the government to flee to Nanking. By the time the situation had finally stabilized several days later, the Shangqing found themselves in control of a vast swath of Qing territory stretching from the Yellow River to the German-held Shandong Peninsula and pockets of territory all the way south to Nanking, while in the far south, rebel generals based in Guangzhou swore their allegiance to the Shangqing cause. China was now thrown into full-scale civil war.


Of all the major powers, only Japan and the United States were in any position to truly respond to the sudden crisis engulfing China. Though the rise of a new and vigorous Chinese state built on the ashes of the Qing dynasty directly threatened great swathes of Japan's colonial empire, actively intervening in the civil war was quickly ruled out by Japan's ruling elites. The disruptions in the Japanese economy and the subsequent labor unrest had empowered the military to an alarming extent; the effort an intervention in China demanded from the nation would only push the nation further into the arms of the militarist cliques. Beyond political concerns, the Emperor Hirohito was greatly concerned that 'invading' China would destabilize Manchuria and provoke Syndicalist Russia into a war to finally reclaim Vladivostok. Further stymieing calls from such 'fringe radicals' as Kita Ikki was the general consensus that, for all its internal weakness and backwardness, Qing China was largely counter-productive to Japanese commercial interests. Many speculated that, should the Shangqing seize power, German influence would be completely expelled and China would naturally turn to Japan, Asia's most successful nation in the last hundred years, to facilitate its modernization process.

These latter sentiments were reflected nicely within the State Department in Washington. The sudden explosion within China had taken the United States completely off-guard. Indeed, America had largely ignored China since the end of the Great War, dominated as it had been by Germany. But American interest in the ever-elusive 'China market,' a key facet of American Far East policy since the McKinley administration, remained as compelling as ever. For all its eccentricities, the Shangqing rebels were widely regarded by State Department officials as a far better alternative to the moribund Qing state. Concerns regarding the rebels' occasional bursts of xenophobia were rationalized as the natural reaction of, in Secretary of State Byrnes' words, 'a people who have repeatedly suffered the abuses of rapacious colonialists and corrupt leaders.' Shangqing China, Byrnes argued, could never hope to modernize if it rejected all foreign influences; Germany and Japan would be rejected, while the United States, hardly an imperialist power, would be China's natural economic partner.

Of course, for as much as the United States might proclaim its good intentions to remain neutral and 'let the Chinese decide China's fate,' the fact that America simply lacked the resources to make an appreciable impact in the conflict should not be ignored. The United States, despite its recent victories in Spain, still had a long and arduous fight against France and her allies in Europe ahead. Regardless, Truman demanded the State Department keep a close eye on developments in China and draw up plans for aid packages, however token they might be, should the Shangqing continue to score victories against the Qing.

Meanwhile, the American armies in Spain were given a new sense of urgency when on October 4 Croatian forces surrendered unconditionally to the Syndicalist coalition; with Hungary already having submitted in mid-September, the French could once again divert all their mobile forces onto a single front. Eisenhower and Bradley knew full well that DeWitt had little hope of holding Zaragoza against the full might of the French armies, certainly not when so much of his available forces were tied up in the defense of Calatayud. On October 5, Eisenhower tasked IV. and V. Armored Corps with the main attack on the Spanish salient at Siguenza in order to clear the road between Guadalajara and Zaragoza. Although Sanjurjo had left twenty-four divisions in the vicinity of Siguenza, they proved inadequate for the task of resisting an American attack from three directions. Despite a valiant and costly holding action, Sanjurjo's forces were pushed west and surrendered the city to the Americans.

Though badly bloodied, Sanjurjo's army retreated in good order and fell back on Aranda de Duero. Had Eisenhower planned to attack Valladolid from the north as the Syndicalists expected, the move was a prudent one. But the American commander was keen on taking Madrid as quickly as possible. The Syndicalists were showing themselves to be tenacious, even fanatical soldiers in defending central Spain; to leave the capital city for last might very well provoke the defenders to fight to the death, and almost certainly cause huge American casualties in the process. To that end, Eisenhower began to prepare for a three-pronged attack on Madrid; two diversionary attacks would come from the southwest and northeast, while Eisenhower intended to lead the main thrust up the Valencia road. On October 12, the attack was underway. A grand total of thirty-six American divisions were involved, facing only sixteen Syndicalist divisions.

Despite their numerical superiority, trouble began for the Americans almost from the start. Attempts to cross the Tajo from Toledo were met with furious resistance from the Syndicalist forces on the opposite bank, while the diversionary strike from Guadalajara failed to distract General Guillaume from the real threat posed by Eisenhower's attack. II. Army slogged up the Valencia road at a grueling pace until the advance ground to a halt less than twenty miles southeast of Madrid on the 14th. 'Secretary-General' Duclos, who loudly proclaimed himself to be the chief architect of the capital's defense, boasted with some justification that even two-to-one odds were not enough for the Americans to overcome 'true soldiers of the people.'

Such self-congratulation ultimately proved to be premature, however; though stopped dead at Toledo, V. Army under General Collins, along with most of IX. Army, swung wide to the west and crossed the Tajo further downriver with little difficulty. Facing only two divisions of organized Syndicalist resistance, IX. Army's mechanized units swept through Extremadura. V. Army halted after seizing Talavera de la Reina, but IX. Army continued northward until it reached the very gates of Salamanca, where it finally halted in the face of a mass-mobilization of the local unions. Thus the stage was set for yet another attack on the Spanish capital.