"We'll Keep The Red Flag Flying Here" - A Union of Britain Kaiserreich AAR

MercZ - Yes it is quite an interesting premise - I was actually playing a game as Qing till I got bored at around June 2 and decided to have fun with the UoB - the situation is... interesting to say the least. I've got enemies to the left of me and enemies to the right. CSA lost the American Civil War, Bengal lost the Indian Civil War, Russia is a monarchy. The forces of reaction seems to be in the ascendant!

Mundane game details:

Playing as Union of Britain in Arma 1.2 with Kaiserreich Mod Pre-Release Version. I originally was playing as the Qing Empire (which accounts for their massive success)

France got pwnd by a two-front war against Carlist Spain and Germany. Republic of Sicilies (which had managed to liberate Italy with French help) soon followed. Now Britain stands alone.

Game goals:

Liberate the oppressed proletariat of the world through a worldwide syndicalist revolution.

Cheats:
I might craft plot-related events and use the "money" cheat.

Normal/Aggressive

And without further ado:

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The Year was 1942. Britain stands alone.

Eric Blair sighed unhappily after setting ink to paper. The situation, was not a very happy one. The Union of Britain was surrounded on all sides by reactionary forces that would like nothing better than to strangle the very last bastion of liberty in the World. Once Britain was strangled - syndicalism would wither and die and the reactionary forces on the world would triumph over the corpse of the peasants and workers. There was a formidable array of forces lined against Syndicalism.


In Europe the "Thousand Year Reich" and their puppet lapdogs in Spain and Italy waged war against the peace-loving peoples of Britain. As did the corrupt feudalists in the Ottoman Empire.


In Asia, the oppressive feudalist states of India and China lorder over the oppressed masses.


In America, Royalist Oppressors sit smug in their distant fortress of oppression - content with attempting to strangle the revolution through a blockade.

In Africa, the huddled masses were still held in chains by the oppressive General's regime of France and the corrupt puppet state of "Mittelafrika"

There could be no "Peace with Honour" as the treacherous lapdog Horner had attempted to negotiate, the Revolution would either get strangled slowly by the Imperialist Powers or it would liberate all before it. That much was clear to Blair. Fortunately there were others in the Trade Unions Congress who shared his view.



The Revolutionary Committee

"Mr. Blair - Revolutionary Committee is here to see you now" As if thinking of them could conjure them out of thin air, members of the Revolutionary Committee - the body in charge of the persecution of the war of liberation started filing in. Blair nodded to each member as they sat around the plain round table.



"Comrades! Our situation is a perilous one!" he began. "What we need is a decisive and effective plan to reverse our fortunes, as you can see - the state of our forces leaves much to be desired - I've taken the liberty to compile a list of our forces along with the state of our military-industrial complex."

The meeting proceeded as planned - by the end of the meeting it was decided to liberate Canada before the end of the year. The global proletariat needed a victory - and quickly!

FlyingDutchie - No comrade the goal is REVOLUTION!!! Not invasion, liberation.

The War Monger - Thanks, well I'm all alone with no allies in the world Woe is the revolution

TRP - Syndicalism is definitely a left-wing socialism ideology. in fact I'm "social democrat" currently....
But what will this new dawn bring?
I hear the stirrings of a joyful spring!

Vesimir - I sure hope so

OutsiderSubtype - In fact he does stay very leftist in this timeline becoming the Chair of the Revolutionary Committee - but is he the puppet or the pupeteer?

Thanks to everyone for their feedback and comments - I've decided to go with a Narrative/History Book/Gameplay format just to keep everyone confused.

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The mournful blarings of a pipe band poured out of the radio set on Comrade General Chief of Inter-Service Liaison Service Tom Wintringham’s desk. For an entire week British stations had played nothing but somber tunes and even more somber commentaries praising the courage of the expeditionary force that had just been wiped out - to the man in the beaches of dunkerque or while crossing the channel.


Tom’s mouth twisted into a frown. That Expeditionary Force was supposed to have helped in the liberation of the Germany from the forces of reaction. The war had not gone as planned - although initially the combined Franco-British forces had driven the Germans out of Flanders-Wallonien and freed the proletariat from the chains of their German monarch. The backstabbing machinations of the Carlists in Spain had - however opened a two front war - a massive German thrust out of the Ardennes also successfully pocketed virtually the entire French and British armies and advanced rapidly that many British planes were captured or hurridly destroyed by their air crews in a panicked retreat. An attempted evacuation... or was it a last stand at Dunkerque had been destroyed by the Kriegsmarine and Luftwaffe. The People's Royal Navy - not having control of the skies was too afraid to sally out of their ports and so the outcome was predictable. The defeat had led to an attempt at negotiated peace...a no confidence motion at the latest Trade Union Congress and then... a military coup. It was a testament to the essentially superflous nature of Wintringham's position that he wasn't even aware what was brewing, nor was he considered a threat to the Mosley-Blair regime to consider removing.


And so... Tom stayed in charge of what was essentially an overglorified recruitment department. The mournful blaring finally ceased to be replaced by the smooth voice of an announcer: "and now for the words of General Secretary Eric Blair"


A harsh rasp came on:


"Comrades! For nearly two years now our country has been at war with the forces of Imperial Germany. For nearly two years the British Proletariat have shed buckets of tears, blood and sweat for the liberation of the oppressed proletariat in the oppressive Empire of Germany and for our French comrades. The war has not gone well - the treacherous Hornerites deliberately orchestrated the defeat of our armies so that they can cravenly lick the jackboots of their Prussian masters and Royalist overlords. They have cravenly attempted to submit our glorious Union into the grasping nettles of Prussian and Royalist Imperialsm. The Hornerite Enemies of the People have been dealt with.


And now comrades! I come to you, to say to the proletariat, as I said to the Trades Union Congress: I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears, and sweat. We have before us an ordeal of the most grievous kind. We have before us many, many long months of struggle and suffering. You ask, what is our policy? I can say: It is to wage war, by sea, land and air, with all our might and with all the strength that the united proletariat can give us: to wage war against a monstrous tyranny, never surpassed in the dark, lamentable catalogue of human crime. That is our policy. You ask, what is our aim? I can answer in one word: It is revolution, revolution at all costs, revolution in spite of all terror, revolution, however long and hard the road may be; for without revolution, there is no survival.


We have choosen a hard path comrades - we have chosen the path of liberation - not of craven surrender. I only have one promise to make to the reactionaries gathered around our sacred Union of Britain. We shall go on to the end, we shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our Revolution, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender, and even if, I sadly believe, Britain is alone. Our proletarian comrades in your very own countries would carry on the struggle, until the Revolution, with all its power and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of the world. The hand of history is on our shoulders. You will be consigned to the asheap of history. We will bury you. " (1)


"And those were the words of the Comrade General Secretary" - the smooth oily voice of the announcer contrasted harshly with Blair's harsh rasp. Tom gaped open mouthed at the radio: a major speech - a spectacular one and Tom didn't know about it till now - Despite being a member of the Revolutionary Committee (2) Tom shook his head and unhappily went back to the pile of paperwork. Nobody told Tom Wintringham anything. But, as Tom realized, better to be small and insignificant - but alive than big and significant - and dead.


(1) - A cookie to anyone who can guess how many speeches I plagiarized this from. A bonus cookie if you can guess from which book I got the inspiration for this post from.


(2) - Our equivalent of a Cabinet

Hi all Thank you all very much for your kind words and feedback time for another update me thinks.


MercZ Thanks MercZ. You're right about Syndicalism being completely different to Fascism, congratulations on being the first to comment on the Eric Blair/George Orwell relationship, I was wondering if I'd had to spell it out o

gooy Thatks gooy, I've got a naval overview in an early update - my naval situation is quite good to be honest, the USA won in the American Civil War and is a military dictatorship under General MacArthur

Vesimir Thanks! The speech was an unholy hodgepodge of Churchill, Tony Blair, Jake Featherston and just a lil' bit of Kruschev. Our oppressed comrades in Canada will have the honour of being the first to be liberated from the ravages of Royalist-capitalism!

FlyingDutchie You're right on those two guesses Just add a pinch of Blair and a touch of Featherston and voila! Instant inspirational speech!

rule_them_all See above

Davisx3m Thanks

Cuttlefish Bingo again!

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And without further ado:

A voice, regular as clockwork always interrupted routine almost daily in the Union of Britain. At 12 o'clock the speakers above always Peter Attwooll crackled to life and a tinny voice spoke to the workers at the factory floor:
"All rise for the National anthem of the Union of Britain":

Solidarity forever,
Solidarity forever,
Solidarity forever,
For the union makes us strong.



Peter knew everyone in the country - young and old, men and women, from the Chairman of the TUC to the scientists to the common proletariat would stand and sing along. The country really was a union

When the union's inspiration through the workers' blood shall run,
There can be no power greater anywhere beneath the sun;
Yet what force on earth is weaker than the feeble strength of one,
But the union makes us strong.



James Chadwick's hand shook unsteadily as the loud blaring above his head penetrated the silence. He sighed as he dropped what he was doing and stood to attention. Julia must have noticed the sigh when she chastized him: "not showing properly revolutionary zeal are we comrade?" Chadwick ignored her as he usually did. What he was doing was far more important than what this petty party busybody could comprehend. If anything could win the Union of Britain the war, it would be this. The war would be won by people like him, not useless party hacks like her. If his calculations were right they could summon close to the power of the sun to create a weapon with such awesome destructive force, The anthem had declared that there can be no power greater anywhere beneath the sun; but there could be now.
Except his eyes kept being drawn to the red sash tied tightly around Julia slender hips, James realized something as he felt a part within him stirring that had lain dormant since Aileen died. He wanted someone. He wanted Julia. And perhaps lust, or was it love? would prove greater than the strenght of the sun itself.


Is there aught we hold in common with the greedy parasite,
Who would lash us into serfdom and would crush us with his might?
Is there anything left to us but to organize and fight?
For the union makes us strong.



Lily Backhouse-Smith shuddered in the damp trenches as the Screechers dove like damned harpies from hell in the moonlit night. On they went howling death and destruction on the 2nd Home Guard Defence Force. This was probably not the best night ever to be assigned on guard duty. But as the ground shook and earth flew up all around Lily there was at least one cloud in the silver lining. She didn't have to do her maths homework tonight... and the Screechers had their own destructive, sleek beauty as they screeched towards the ground.... Yes, Lily would have something to draw tommorow morning for art class.

It is we who plowed the prairies; built the cities where they trade;
Dug the mines and built the workshops, endless miles of railroad laid;
Now we stand outcast and starving midst the wonders we have made;
But the union makes us strong.



Comrade Flier Rodgers smiled when he spotted the two Ottoman air pirate bombers below him. Putting his Spitfire into a dive he took aim and squeezed the trigger. Bits of the obsolete biplane bomber flew off as his cannon took chunks out of it, he swerved slightly to his right to deal with the other intruder, it exploder in a fiery explosion. Rodgers smiled again... those air pirates may have been suitable - more than suitable for destroying the infrastructure of the proletariat but obsolte Great War biplane bombers would be no match for his spitfire. He was grinning from ear to ear when he landed, Rodgers never dreamt he'd make an ace on his first ever flight! Now, if only we can do this in the south! He thought wistfully as he plopped himself in his bunk.

All the world that's owned by idle drones is ours and ours alone.
We have laid the wide foundations; built it skyward stone by stone.
It is ours, not to slave in, but to master and to own.
While the union makes us strong.



Harriet Harman concentrated very hard as she ran the shell under the machine to check for defects, careful.... careful she told herself as the she slowly made the machine squeeze the shell. They were special shells, with a small fuze on the hollowed inside. Comrade Pietra had told everyone in the factory the significance of the shells, they could come right close to an airplane and then explode. Anything that would harm the enemies of the revolution had it coming to them, Harman thought as she painted a large red ring around the shell she'd just tested. The reactionaries and capitalists could continue oppressing their workers, but Britain would give ordinary women like Harman a stake on society.

They have taken untold millions that they never toiled to earn,
But without our brain and muscle not a single wheel can turn.
We can break their haughty power, gain our freedom when we learn
That the union makes us strong.



Tom Wintringham looked at some of reports that were flooding his desk, he gingerly picked the one on top of the shelf and nodded satisfactorally. Yes, the planes in the carriers may not have been able to engage the Screechers while they attacked (the reason why they couldn't still remained a mystery to Tom... something about a "game engine" said the white coated figure he'd asked.) but they could attack them as they landed after plying their destructive trade. By all accounts the Carrier Air Forces were inflicting heavy damage on them. Tom hoped that they would do enough to keep them from coming again. But he could guarantee nothing, so he cautiously approved more sorties provided that Britain still had a Carrier group in reserve to deal with any... unexpected threats. Canada had been awfully quiet since France fell, perhaps the royalists were planning something? Whatever it was we'll hit them first, Tom thought firmly. We'll liberate Canada before the year ends. Tom liked the thought of that.

In our hands is placed a power greater than their hoarded gold,
Greater than the might of armies, magnified a thousand-fold.
We can bring to birth a new world from the ashes of the old
For the union makes us strong.



...It was perhaps a romantic dream, a futile dream. But it was still a dream worth fighting for. It was a dream worth dying for. As the people of Britain showed their resilience in the battle of Britain they would show that they would be trully worthy to liberate the world. And why should they fight over the air against overwhelming air supperiority? Why should they continue to toil day and night in the factories of Birmingham and in the docks of Portsmouth? Why should the British people endure waves and waves of bombers dropping explosive death? They did it for the dream and for the premise. That everyone was born equal and that everyone should have equal access to the resources of society.