All Your Bird Poop AARe Belong To Us

[Alfred Packer]

I haven't done a mini-AAR in quite a long time. Additionally, my wife and 2/3 of kids will be gone for the next 7 days, leaving me with a shocking amount of free-time. In that time, I plan to crank out an epic adventure of madness, war and nitrate in the heart of South America. It is called "All Your Bird Poop AARe Belong To Us."

There are, of course, no jokes contained in this introductory post.

Game: HoI3 1.3 with noneutrality
Players: Single player
Style: 3rd person omniscent (picture heavy but most are very tiny)
IRL start date: 20 Novemer '09 at 10:30pm EST

Nation: Argentina
Start date: 1/1/1938
Starting level: Normal
Military control: AI at army level (with some exceptions)
Modifications: Just the noneutrality cheat
Goal: The Poop-Fields of Chile...then maybe Peru's and Bolivia's, if they get uppity.[/quote]

[Peekee]

Originally Posted by Alfred Packer

Because that joke never, ever, ever gets old.

What joke?

[Mico94]

it hasn't even started and I'm already laughing...
so no landships this time?

[tuore]

How can you start 1/1 1938? '38 scenario starts from autumn.

[Stuyvesant]

Another Packer tale? And it's entirely structured around the conquest of guano, necessitating vast amount of poop jokes? Oh boy... Count me in.

[Alfred Packer]

Originally Posted by Peekee

What joke?

Indeed, what joke? Peekee, you are very confusing?

Originally Posted by Mico94

it hasn't even started and I'm already laughing...
so no landships this time?

Awesome...let's hope that continues! (yeah, probably no landships)

Originally Posted by tuore

How can you start 1/1 1938? '38 scenario starts from autumn.

Through the magic of storytelling.

Originally Posted by Stuyvesant

Another Packer tale? And it's entirely structured around the conquest of guano, necessitating vast amount of poop jokes? Oh boy... Count me in.

Huzzah! Let the Poop-jokes begin!

[Alfred Packer]

It is January 1st, 1938. We look upon a peaceful beach scene. A man sits in a chair by the water, welcoming the New Year while soaking in the rays.

The Place: Antofagasta, Chile

The Man: President Roberto María Ortiz, known to the people of Argentina as “El Caudillo,” or “El Presidente.”


We join El Presidente on the beach, catching some rays and relaxing after a difficult year of oppressing dissent.













*sing to the classic Don Ho tune ‘Banana Counter’












And so, thing might have ended there, a peaceful vacation ending with El Presidente returning home rested, fit and tanned…ready to return to crushing the opposition and the little man under his cruel thumb…when Fate intervened.











And so, when things went wrong, our Hero was left alone.









No one knows what exactly the bird had eaten, but whatever it was, it contained something hard. Small rocks? Weighty seeds? We don’t know. But the after-effects were serious. Our hero was struck square in the forehead, rendering him unconscious just as the wind shifted and the stench of guano covered the beach.

Perhaps the strangely localized brain damage was due to the impact from the bird’s poop? Maybe it was caused by inhaling all that methane? We don’t know. What we do know is what happened when El Presidente awoke.















Roberto was no traditional mad-man. He kept his mania close to his chest, working slowly he tried to build up animosity towards Chile…holders of the sweet brown gold, but to no avail. All anyone wanted to talk about was the events in Europe. For 8 months his subtle machinations (such as: “Hey guys, wouldn’t it be great if we could get our hands on some natural Nitrate…sure would help the munitions industry, oh and agriculture”) had been met with, at best, indifference or, at worst, facts (such as ‘organic guano fertilizers are far more expensive and far less effective than manufactured ones’ or ‘no one wants to deal with the smell of poop-based explosives’).

El Presidente was done with gentle coercion. Now was the time to get those precious, precious Nitrates for the Motherland.

[Stuyvesant]

Good lord! When I prattled on about poop jokes, I didn't know things would take such a graphic turn... That image is going to stay with me for a long, long time (and I'm not talking about the Guano mountain or the crap-mad new El Presidente)...

Onwards, good sir!

[Myth]

How bizarre!

[Mico94]

oh crap!
.
.
.

[Alfred Packer]

Originally Posted by Mico94

oh crap!
.
.
.

Hahaha...I like that!

Originally Posted by Myth

How bizarre!

Yeah. I dunno...it is kind of weird.

Originally Posted by Stuyvesant

Good lord! When I prattled on about poop jokes, I didn't know things would take such a graphic turn... That image is going to stay with me for a long, long time (and I'm not talking about the Guano mountain or the crap-mad new El Presidente)...

Onwards, good sir!

Great! And yeah, god what an awful picture. Its sitting on Wikipedia on the "Bird Guano" page. I was appalled, but then I figured "if its good enough for Wikipedia...I guess its good enough for me!"

[Alfred Packer]

It is now late 1939. Germany is at war with some 387 nations. None of them are in South America, so we’re not going to worry about that for now.

The Place: Buenos Aires, Argentina

The Man: President Roberto María Ortiz, known to the people of Argentina as “El Caudillo,” or “El Presidente.”


We join El Presidente back at work, furiously attempting to convince his countrymen of the danger of Chile. He is currently giving a speech to the Argentinean Parliament





“My fellow Argentinians! We can no longer ignore the blatant threats of our enemy to the West! Chile must be destroyed and we must secure, for all time, the precious, precious Nitrate fields. National Security Demands It!”




































Roberto quickly agreed. It was easy to be magnanimous when you’d won. And Parliament didn’t know it, but he’d just won big.



A few months later, and Roberto had parlayed the ill-worded concession by Parliament into a new division, manned entirely by Professional, full time soldiers. He was almost giddy. Now, El Presidente sat down with Field Marshal Castano to plot strategies.







“Now then, El Presidente, I have looked over our forces and come up with a solid, mutually supportive defense deployment with which to face our…uh…Chilean. *sigh* enemies.”







“I call it Plan A. We have two Armies, 1st Army with 5 Infantry Divisions in 2 Corps face off against the Chilean capitol and against your beloved poop-fields. The stronger I Corps, with 3 divisions is ranged against the main Chilean defenses of Santiago.

In the North, the III National Guard Corps with its two Divisions will backup the main force of IV Assault Corps with the Mountain and Light Divisions, since the greatest threat is probably with our…”







“What are you nuts? We can’t attack Chile from those positions!”







…

“Why would we need to?”







“What? My God, now wonder your plan was so bad! Don’t you understand what we’re doing here? We’re planning to attack Chile and seize the Great Bird Poop Mounds of Famagusta…for the Glory of Argentina!”







“But we are only authorized to take defensive preparations!”







“Didn't they teach you anything in General School? Haven’t you ever heard the Best Defense is a Good Offense…ive? Now, look here…” Roberto spread his own map over the General’s.







“Now, this is a deployment. With 1st Army tasked with the Conquest of Chile. The first move, spearheaded by the new elite 9th Light Division, we should be in Famagusta before they even know we’re at war.”







“Oh my God…you’re really…you’re really serious about this aren’t you.”







“Oh quit the sour face, just because my idea was better! Haha…you Generals sure are a sensitive lot!”

[tuore]

Wtf

[Tskb18]

Another war over guano?

Have you considered gathering allies? For such treasure, any sane leader would be willing to shed blood.

[Enewald]

This is poopness!

[Stuyvesant]

Looks like you found yourself a serviceable, warmongering German to command your elite 9th Light Division. That alone makes me confident in the success of this operation... Er, this speculative, possibly upcoming operation, depending on further Chilean aggression... Poor, poor donkey...

[noobermenschen]

El Presidente's justifications for war have an aroma about them. Don't expect the rest of the world to be gulled into believing him.

[Alfred Packer]

Originally Posted by noobermenschen

El Presidente's justifications for war have an aroma about them. Don't expect the rest of the world to be gulled into believing him.

The force of your puns is unstoppable.

Originally Posted by Stuyvesant

Looks like you found yourself a serviceable, warmongering German to command your elite 9th Light Division. That alone makes me confident in the success of this operation... Er, this speculative, possibly upcoming operation, depending on further Chilean aggression... Poor, poor donkey...

"Remember the Donkey" is the unofficial motto of 9th Light Division!

Originally Posted by Enewald

This is poopness!

No! This Is...well...actually, yeah...you're right.

Originally Posted by Tskb18

Another war over guano?

Have you considered gathering allies? For such treasure, any sane leader would be willing to shed blood.

They would. but then I'd have to share that sweet, sweet poop.

Originally Posted by tuore

Wtf

I quite agree.

[Alfred Packer]

It is now 1941. The world, hopefully, is distracted by Germany's crazyness.

The Place: The Chilean Frontier, Argentina

The Man: President Roberto María Ortiz, known to the people of Argentina as “El Caudillo,” or “El Presidente.”


We join El Presidente. He is standing alone, hands clasped behind his back, gazing off into Chile. His face, well, it is radiant.





“This is it! Three years of pain, of suffering, of trickery. Finally. Finally, those fantastic mounds of guano shall be mine. Mine forever! Hahaha…AH-HAHAHAHA.” Roberto wiped a tear from his eyes as he recalled the events of the last few months. He recalled the times Parliament refused his requests for war. He recalled the fateful night he decided to ‘go underground’ with his plans. Ah, that went so well!







Such as convincing Parliament to launch a draft…you know…to keep the youth off the streets.







Or increasing military spending under the guise of ‘helping the economy.’







Of course, the best part was when the United States joined the war against Germany.
This, Roberto thought, was an act of God. Now the U.S. would be too busy to screw around in Latin America!







When the Chileans and Parliament bought the story that the mobilization of the reserves was just a training exercise, El Presidente was positively giddy.







So Roberto could be excused a satisfied little grin as he watched 9th Division’s tanks rolling towards the coast, for the Mountains of Bird Poop were in sight. He knew they’d be his.



meanwhile, back in Buenos Aires, Parliament is meeting to debate a bill to name the Argentine Horned Frog the Official Amphibian of Argentina, oblivious to the goings on at the Chilean border…until the U.S. Ambassador requested permission to address the August Body.

[Alfred Packer]

It 26 May, 1941. Argentina is at War, with both Chile and with the Western Allies. This latter fact is going to come a something of a surprise to our hero, but he will handle it well.

The Place: Antofagasta, on the Chilean side of the border.

The Man: President Roberto María Ortiz, known to the people of Argentina as “El Caudillo,” or “El Presidente.”


We join El Presidente as he walks down the streets of Occupied Antofagasta, he is presiding over a ceremony to pin medals on the chests of the Heroes of 8. Infantry Division.




“Gentlemen! It only took you eight days to seize Fabled Antofagusta! And since then, you have held it against continuous counter-attacks. Well, that is over. Tomorrow, you move south. Today, you celebrate.















A few hours later, we find El Presidente gazing happily at his latest acquisition.






“Ah, look at that Field Marshal. Isn’t it a glorious sight?”







“Does it always smell this bad?”







Ortiz was lost in reverie. He replied, softly, “no Field Marshal. Only when the wind blows.” He wiped a tear from his eye.







“Yeah. Anyway, sir, I must get going. ..”







“…I’m leaving 9th Mountain Division to guard…well…these mountains.” The Field Marshal cringed at the thought. Poor mountaineers. “But, uh, the rest of us need to head south. We’re having trouble taking Santiago. In fact, there are reports of large Gringo forces guarding the city.”







Would the Field Marshal never shut up? Roberto was getting annoyed. His special moment was being ruined. “Americans? Highly unlikely. Maybe some volunteers or something, but I can’t see why an American army would be in Santiago.” El Presidente snorted his derision as the Field Marshal ran off.







“Ah yes…just me and my mountain…”






“Sir! Sir!” Felipe was gasping for air as he ran up the trail. “It’s the Americans! They’ve declared war! And the Paraguaians, but that isn’t nearly as frightening!”







“Intelligence Minister Felipe? What brings you all the way to Antofagusta?”






“A very angry Parliament. It seems, El Presidente, that you’ve bitten off more than you can chew this time. We’ve already launched an invasion into Paraguay, they won’t last long. But the Americans…”






Ortiz scoffed at the notion. “Bah, the Americans? They never do anything. I expect they’re whole army is sitting in Washington right now.”







Felipe was annoyed. “This is serious sir! You’ve defied the Constitution, you’ve defied Parliament, you’ve defied common sense and for what? Shit Mountain? You are a Mad-Man!”







Ortiz rounded on Felipe, furiously, “you can insult me, you can insult Argentina, but you can never…NEVER...insult the Guano Mounds, they are going to save our industry! They are going to make us the dominant force in Latin America…no! In the World!”







“But the Americans…”







“Oh shut up about the Americans already…mark my words there is no way, NO WAY, they are going to come all the way down to Argentina. We are home free Felipe, I promise you.



Meanwhile, off the coast of Bahia Blanca, Argentina’s 2nd largest port.