The United States: 'Prophets of a New Order'

Seems quite a bit of interest expressed on the matter of Reed's ultimate fate. I won't say much, but I will point out that both Merriam and Patton are still alive and kicking in the U.S.

naggy: There are some pretty wacky satellites that you can make out of France...

Enewald: Historically, Marshall became Secretary of State under Truman when he was rather grudgingly dragged from post-war retirement. As for my army, I have 110 divisions on the Continent, and another 11 garrisons in Britain. And no landing in Genoa, I just attacked over land via Nice.

yourworstnightm: Why invade when you can nuke?

BipBapBop: On the issue of fanaticism, don't forget, the French have been at war one way or another since the start of 1940, causing severe drains on manpower reserves. To say nothing of the abrupt regime change way back when.

Andreios II: You're back, and you snag the 1000th post!


Prophets of a New Order - Part I

Back on the American homefront, President Truman had been making steady progress brokering a rapprochement between the two quarrelsome wings of the Democratic Party ever since the death of President Roosevelt. With every new advance of American forces on the European Continent, the Social Progressives' calls for a peace settlement grew correspondingly weaker. With the triumphant outcome of Operation Sherman in May, the rug was pulled completely out from underfoot; their main plank gone and Wallace, without public office, slowly slipping into irrelevance, the Social Progressives were suddenly willing to rejoin the ranks of the victorious President's party.

The fall of Paris should have driven the final nail in the coffin of Wallace's old peace plans, were it not for the completely unexpected revelation that Jack Reed had not fled and had instead turned himself over to military custody. MacArthur, who years before had been the arch-nemesis of American Syndicalism, was left dumbfounded by the prisoner he now had in his hands. The President immediately recognized the potential political catastrophe now brewing; Republicans would howl for blood, or at the very least demand Reed be put on trial, while Social Progressives would demand Reed be given the same lenient treatment Frank Merriam or George Patton had received. But much had changed in the past half decade since then, least of all Roosevelt's death. Moreover, Patton and Merriam had escaped trial precisely because it was stipulated in the terms of surrender; Reed had neither received nor asked for such clemency. Privately, the President hoped that Hoover's bloodhounds in the FBI might yet uncover the whereabouts of Fritz Kuhn and drag him back to face his crimes, but it was now widely held that the former Nationalist was long-dead. Illustrative of how uncertain the government was in regards to Reed's fate, only a single MP was assigned to guard him in his house arrest and he was allowed visitors. Several historians have speculated Truman hoped Reed would change his mind and use the opportunity presented by this virtually-nonexistent security and escape.

Had Reed tried to make his escape in the first few weeks of the American occupation of Paris, he almost assuredly would have escaped. Indeed, the first week of July was a period of general American setbacks across the entire Continent; on the Channel coast, a hasty attack on Le Havre met unexpected resistance and was stopped dead in its tracks, as was an armored thrust toward Mulhouse, while the drive on Genoa ran headlong into a massive Franco-Italian army of some forty divisions spread across northern Italy. Indeed, the Syndicalist coalition had not fractured as most American observers predicted, instead presenting a fearsome bulwark against any further advances in northern France; combined with the arrival of reinforcements in northern Italy from the Balkans, the only weak spot in the Syndicalist line was Marshal Auriol's army in Bescanon and the Romandy, where the Americans were equally at their weakest.

Attempts to break this force, the center of the Syndicalist front, initially focused on encirclement operations directed toward Mulhouse and Grenoble, with the intent of pinning Auriol's forces against the Swiss border and delivering a final knockout blow, but the French commander had readily divined Eisenhower's plans, and easily beat off the assaults on either city. Stymied in these efforts, the Americans turned toward a direct assault over the Saone and simply bludgeoning Auriol's forces into submission, knowing full well that the French could scarcely recoup any losses on the battlefield. The French Marshal remained elusive, avoiding direct battle as best he could. After nearly two weeks of this, Bescanon finally fell to the Americans on July 14.

With the Syndicalist center now pushed aside - neutral Switzerland now split the front in half - the bulk of the American offensive efforts were directed toward isolating and destroying the French forces around Grenoble and the portions of Auriol's army that had retreated southward when Bescanon fell. Having already breached the Alpine defensive perimeter in the south and advanced all the way to Genoa, the Americans chose to focus upon seizing Turin and hopefully bag the thirty Syndicalist divisions still retreating out of southern France. The initial advances by II. Armored Corps made good progress, reaching the city limits on the 19th and cutting of the roads that served as vital supply conduits for the defenders at Grenoble in several place; almost immediately, the American pressed their advantage, assailing the Grenoble pocket from all directions. But organizational problems continued to hound the American attackers, who found themselves smashing against formidable and, ultimately, impregnable entrenchments. Under constant attack, II. Armored Corps was finally forced to abandon Turin after holding the city for only a day and a half. Although the Syndicalists had survived their encirclement, they were left badly shaken by the experience and, after taking up defensive positions running between Milan and Venice, would play little part in the remainder of the campaign.

Just days after the failure of the attack to destroy the Syndicalist armies in Grenoble, word arrived of the latest major developments in the Far East. After losing its industrial heartland centered on Nanking and Wuhu in late February and early March, the Qing Empire had begun a precipitous decline in the face of withering Shangqing offensives. With the Emperor Pu Yi's armies all but crushed, it was only a matter of time before the Manchu were expelled from the last major stronghold in China, Guanzhou in the south. But even with such paltry resistance in its way, the Shangqing advance was slow, owing to the sheer vastness of the Chinese countryside the rebels were occupying. But finally, on July 20, Shangqing formations under General Zhu De reached the southern city and seized it after only brief skirmishes with scattered Qing army units. The emperor had long since fled, first to Hong Kong, and finally to the Philippines, when neither the Japanese nor Germans would grant him asylum. A few scattered pockets of Qing resistance continued to hold out, but for all intents and purposes, the war was over: China from Bejing in the north to Guangzhou in the south belonged to the Shanqing.


In a remarkably short span of time, these peculiar pseudo-religious revolutionaries had gone from warlords in China's hinterland to masters of nearly the bulk of its cities, resources, and population. The rapidity with which these all but unknown rebels had seized control of the Middle Kingdom left foreign governments at a loss for what to do. No one could quite guess for certain how the mind of the Shangqing prophet Zhang Tianran worked or just what he planned, or how the Chinese populace and political elites might react to the Shangqing now that the rebels were in power. Indeed, the responsibilities of the Shangqing had increased exponentially with their successful conquest, and it was certainly beyond the ability of this small band to effectively govern the whole country in the same manner they had ruled their mountain strongholds. Zhang, for his part, did little to clarify matters, issuing a radio broadcast on July 21 commemorating the fall of Guangzhou as a 'great and hallowed victory for the righteous soldiers of the Pure Way.' While making repeated reference to 'the great struggles yet to come,' Zhang did not bother to define precisely what those 'struggles' were. Truman, keen on cracking open the elusive 'China market' for American business, had already granted the Shangqing diplomatic recognition and offered American assistance and counsel in a post-war settlement, hinting at 'fair and equitable solutions to the question of China's future.'

Before the United States could make any effort toward 'far and equitable solutions' in the Far East, the war in Europe had to be brought to a close. In northern Italy, it was quickly decided that any attempt to break the Syndicalist defenses running between Milan and the Adriatic would be suicidal, and instead directed the main focus southward. Marching beyond Genoa, the Americans took La Spezia on July 26 in the face of only light Italian resistance, opening up the whole of central Italy to direct American attack. But it was in northern France where American efforts were now predominantly focused; having pushed all the way to the Rhine, Bradley intended on swinging north into the Ruhr, isolating the far right of the Syndicalist front. On August 1, a major American push began between Chaumont and Mulhouse, with the intention of seizing Metz and Strasbourg. Finding themselves faced with paltry enemy forces, the American mechanized and armored forces under direct command of Eichelberger's IX. Army continued to press forward; by August 5, both cities were taken, and American forces had advanced straight through the Saar and were on the brink of capturing the whole of the Ruhr. By the 8th, Bradley's offensive was complete; having taken Dortmund without firing a shot, the American mechanized corps swung counterclockwise around Essen until they reached the Dutch border town of Venlo.


As all this was unfolding, XIV. Army was continuing its push down the Italian boot, seizing Florence with minimal difficulty on August 9. From there, the advance continued steadily through Tuscany. The Americans advanced so rapidly in the intervening two days that the Italians could only muster four divisions for the defense of the capital. Outnumbered and severely outclassed by the American mechanized formations, the Italians nevertheless fought doggedly, buying Togliatti the time he needed to evacuate the government to Naples. The Americans broke through the Italian lines on August 13, forcing a general retreat, and the nightfall the city was under American control.

Zeldar155: I'm sure there'll be much rending of clothes and gnashing of teeth from Viden's corner.

Razgriz 2K9: That would be too obvious, wouldn't you think so?

Zhuge Liang: Quite so. There'll certainly be tension, since one of the few things all Chinese can agree on is that the "imperialists" should be booted out.

Van5: Neither can I!

Enewald: Indeed, but those regimes were installed by the French army, not by popular uprising.

talt: Russia certainly enjoys a pivotal role in Europe after the myopia of the Kerensky period. As for a post-war settlement, well, first there has to be a post-war.

Americandor: It looks that way. You can't see it in that picture, but there's 17 divisions in Naples. Anyway, I must say you picked a fine place to start your time on this forum!


Prophets of a New Order - Part II

Whereas the American army had halted its advance following the seizure of Paris from the Syndicalist coalition, no such respite was granted after Rome was captured. On August 14, the main push to completely eradicate Syndicalist resistance from northern France and Belgium began in full force. Running low on ammunition, equipment, and manpower, morale shattered, and organization slipping rapidly, the once-mighty Syndicalist army could not stem the onslaught. In just six days, American forces were pressing at the southern outskirts of Lille, having captured Le Havre, Rouen, Amiens, and Valenciennes in the intervening time. Indeed, the advance was so rapid that the sailors of the remnants of the French Atlantic Fleet had barely enough time to get aboard their ships and sail out of the harbor before the port was overrun. The warships did not get far; waiting out in the Channel was the Admiral Nimitz and the bulk of the American Navy. As the French fled north to Antwerp, they were set upon mercilessly by American planes. Only by virtue of the heroic sacrifices of the crews of the heavy cruisers Gloire and Jaures, and the aircraft carriers Joffre and Bearn, did what little remained of Syndicalist naval power survive.

Having secured northern France, the Americans immediately began the invasion of Belgium on August 20. Hoping the sweep from west to east through the country and smash the remains of the Syndicalist army against the American line running through the Rhineland, the offensive did not encounter serious resistance until it reached Ghent, where, having bought themselves enough time to organize a defense, the Syndicalist soldiers beat back several breakthrough attempts until they were simply enveloped after two days of heavy combat. The road was now open to Brussels and the heart of Belgium. With the fall of Ghent, the back of the Syndicalists' whole defensive line buckled and gave way. Brussels was declared an open city on August 31. By September 2, both Namur and Liege were in American possession, and the front stretched along the Meuse River. Once again, a victorious army was marching through the Ardennes, driving the military might that had once dominated Europe before it.


Unfortunately for the Americans, their strategy was having quite the opposite effect than intended. As the advance continued across the Meuse, Syndicalist resistance increased steadily. Rather than desert or throw down their weapons as the pocket was inexorably squeezed in around them, the coalition's soldiers fought more like men backed into a corner than a bloodied and beaten army. With nothing left to lose, these hardened veterans were preparing to fight to the very last breath. By September 13, the location of their last stand had been chosen by the continued American offensives: Essen. A new spirit of Syndicalist camaraderie like that of the early revolutionary time, one that had faded over the grueling years of war, was suddenly reborn. Field Marshal Vicente Rojo was selected by general acclamation to be the city's commander in this final hour. It was an open demonstration of the final repudiation of Thorez and the Jacobins who had led the coalition to ruin. Knowing full well that they would soon face the brunt of American military might, the men began to dig in, scrounging up what hardware they could to bolster the ring of fortifications rapidly taking shape around the city. Women and children were given what food and medicine that could be spared and evacuated away, as were all those who did not express their willingness to carry on the fight. There was to be no great atrocity or shameful rout that might be used to sully this final battle.

While Bradley and MacArthur led the mammoth attack against this desperate last stand, Eisenhower pressed the advantage to the south. The general had made no move across the Rhine River in the previous months because American energies were mainly being directed elsewhere. But those who had not yet deserted their posts on the east bank of the Rhine simply could not hope to withstand any serious push. On the 18th of September, Stuttgart fell, as did Nuremburg on October 1. Two days later, Munich fell. Yet in those two and a half weeks, the defenders of Essen continued to hold out against all expectations. Workers braved the storm of bomb and shell to keep the factories running, keeping the soldiers armed and supplied as they fought bitterly over every inch of war-torn earth. Every time a trench line was blasted apart by artillery, another would spring up in its place. When a position was overrun, the soldiers would simply fall back into one equally as formidable. Every avenue and hill was sighted by artillery or covered by machine guns. Every assault was faced with a counter-attack. Frustrated to no end by such miraculous resistance, MacArthur bitterly advised the President that Essen should be besieged and bombed into oblivion with nuclear weapons.


Fortunately, Truman resisted the urge to end the war in such a brutal and callous display of barbarity. For weeks, intelligence reports had been filtering back to Washington that the war was all but over. With the French no longer capable of policing much of Central and Eastern Europe and the war clearly lost, popular unrest had been growing ever since the outcome of Operation Sherman. Murmurs of discontent soon blossomed into protests and riots in every major city still under Syndicalist rule. When some leaders, like Chancellor Karl Liebknecht in Berlin, attempted to crack down on the demonstrations, public outrage was sharp and immediate. Fanning the flames, American airplanes made countless sorties over Syndicalist territory, dropping propaganda leaflets by the ton that promised a 'just peace' on the basis of President Roosevelt's plan. Leaders struggled to justify further sacrifices in the name of a war that was clearly lost when the supposed enemy offered peace with promises of self-determination, economic freedom, and freedom. Had they not held back from using their new superbomb? Had they not treated their own defeated Syndicalist rebels charitably?

After a month of non-stop fighting, the American army was finally poised to deliver the knock-out blow to Essen's defenders. Decimated from the ceaseless combat and nearly out of ammunition, the situation inside the city was hopeless. But when the offensive began on October 9, the Syndicalist forces continued to fight on and even hold off the attack in several sectors, despite being assailed on all sides. But the inevitable tipping-point was reached on October 12; American tanks finally smashed through the defenders' trench lines and infantry began to pour into the heart of Essen. Knowing that any further resistance would only cost more blood with no hope of victory, Field Marshal Rojo formally surrendered on October 13. Essen, having held out alone against the ceaseless attacks of fifty enemy divisions for an entire month, fell to the United States. To a few, the surrender marked the final betrayal of the soldiers and workers who sacrificed everything in the name of the cause. But to most, the Battle of Essen was an honorable end to one of the most courageous and miraculous defenses ever witnessed in the entire war.


In the coming days and weeks, it would begin to become apparent that the Battle of Essen also marked, for all intents and purposes, the close of hostilities in Europe.