Well, if the Frenchies got you into the mess of having no choice but to go bankrupt, then by all means utterly crush them! Then again, even if they didn't force this issue of bankruptcy, crush them anyway! 
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Once Emperor Louis Napoleon and his armies in the north had been captured, the reconquest of Westphalia and the Rhineland was at hand.
Crown Prince Friedrich Wilhelm first stopped in Frisia to assist General Haber in pacifying Bremen and Oldenburg. While the Crown Prince was successful before heading south, the war in the north was not won. These formerly democratic states were full of progressive, often socialist, workers who were accustomed to having the privileges of franchise and entitlement which previously were offered to them by their governments. French occupation had not sat well with them, but neither did the presence of the conservative, militaristic Prussians. Rebellions were a constant occurrence, and frequently resulted in as much bloodshed to Prussian divisions as in battlefield conflict with French troops. These provinces were in such constant rebellion that General Auben, who took command after General Haber’s death from age and drink in February 1861, abandoned these regions to the French and simply acted to isolate and contain the few remaining French divisions, preventing them from forays into the formerly Hannoverian lands of northern Prussia.
Friedrich Wilhelm marched south with 100,000 cavalry. Several corps of infantry and cavalry were making their way south under Generals Tegel and von Moltke, striking at targets of opportunity, and working to resecure Prussian lands. The Crown Prince, then, would assault concentrations of French soldiers, achieving decisive victories in Osnabruck, Munster, Koln, Aachen, and finally Trier. By the end of 1860, virtually all of Prussian pre-war territory was again in Prussain hands.
Crown Prince Friedrich Wilhelm first stopped in Frisia to assist General Haber in pacifying Bremen and Oldenburg. While the Crown Prince was successful before heading south, the war in the north was not won. These formerly democratic states were full of progressive, often socialist, workers who were accustomed to having the privileges of franchise and entitlement which previously were offered to them by their governments. French occupation had not sat well with them, but neither did the presence of the conservative, militaristic Prussians. Rebellions were a constant occurrence, and frequently resulted in as much bloodshed to Prussian divisions as in battlefield conflict with French troops. These provinces were in such constant rebellion that General Auben, who took command after General Haber’s death from age and drink in February 1861, abandoned these regions to the French and simply acted to isolate and contain the few remaining French divisions, preventing them from forays into the formerly Hannoverian lands of northern Prussia.
Friedrich Wilhelm marched south with 100,000 cavalry. Several corps of infantry and cavalry were making their way south under Generals Tegel and von Moltke, striking at targets of opportunity, and working to resecure Prussian lands. The Crown Prince, then, would assault concentrations of French soldiers, achieving decisive victories in Osnabruck, Munster, Koln, Aachen, and finally Trier. By the end of 1860, virtually all of Prussian pre-war territory was again in Prussain hands.
Gee, don't those former democratic states know that it's in their own best interest to become part of Prussia?? Maybe allowing the French divisions to run around creating havoc in those states might have been a good idea General Auben had after all.
Oh, how the tide can turn. And quickly I might add. Tough to have that realization about the bankruptcy, but a good plan to just bite the bullet and figure out a way to keep the perfidious French from clotheslining you again.
January, 1861
Crown Prince Friedrich Wilhelm sat easily in his saddle, atop his shining white steed, gazing out from a rock promontory surrounded by fir trees. Across the River Saar, which meandered below them, lay the lands of the Empire of France.
Friedrich Wilhelm turned to Major Leo von Caprivi, his aide de camp, on horseback beside and a bit behind him. “Do you remember a year ago today, Leo, when you and I stood looking out from the Hessian hills as we were about to launch our breakout from Kassel? It has taken a full year to bring us to this point.”
“It has been a long, but fruitful year, Your Highness.”
Friedrich Wilhelm remembered the tens of thousands of Prussians whose blood had been shed over the past year. But he also knew that hundreds of thousands of Frenchmen had salted the hills and fields of Prussia with their blood -- the price of their emperor’s vain folly. “Mostly,” he admitted.
“You know,” the Crown Prince continued to reflect, “We drilled for years to launch an assault across this river.” Caprivi nodded his remembrance of their instructors’ words, so he continued. “‘Sortie from Saarlouis,’ they would say, ‘and take Teterchen and Boulay before spreading out to envelop Metz. You will take heavy losses from French defenders, but you must accept them. Never you mind, Prussia can absorb losses better than they.’” The Crown Prince remembered imagining in his mind’s eye his men dying as they charged virtually unassailable French ramparts. He was glad that would not be necessary. “‘They,’ Leo, are not there. ‘They’ are gone... dead on our own lands. And now there is no one left to defend France.”
“It is good this way, My Prince,” agreed Caprivi. “When von Moltke reaches Paris, perhaps no one will be there, either.”
It was Friedrich Wilhelm’s turn to nod agreement. “Leo,” he confided, “I feel drawn to Spain. I want so desperately to go rescue von Bittenfeld.”
“I think he will not stand long enough for you to arrive.”
“I know,” he admitted sadly.
“He and his men,” Caprivi tried to lift the mood, “will be taken prisoner, but then it will merely be our duty to liberate them in a few months. Of that, I am certain.”
The Crown Prince persisted in his morose mood, knowing there would be many dead in Spain before they were captured. Not to mention other Prussian thousands along their path of march.
Caprivi tried a different approach. “If we pass near Parma,” he said, indicating their Italian destination, “perhaps we shall see some of my father’s relatives.”
That made the Crown Prince chuckle. “Take care, my friend, that they do not shoot you before they greet you.”
“Rather, Your Highness, I think it more likely that my Parmese relations would greet me, then shoot me.”
They laughed together. Friedrich Wilhelm’s spirits were raised, because he was reminded that this would be the beginning of the end of this bitter war.
Crown Prince Friedrich Wilhelm sat easily in his saddle, atop his shining white steed, gazing out from a rock promontory surrounded by fir trees. Across the River Saar, which meandered below them, lay the lands of the Empire of France.
Friedrich Wilhelm turned to Major Leo von Caprivi, his aide de camp, on horseback beside and a bit behind him. “Do you remember a year ago today, Leo, when you and I stood looking out from the Hessian hills as we were about to launch our breakout from Kassel? It has taken a full year to bring us to this point.”
“It has been a long, but fruitful year, Your Highness.”
Friedrich Wilhelm remembered the tens of thousands of Prussians whose blood had been shed over the past year. But he also knew that hundreds of thousands of Frenchmen had salted the hills and fields of Prussia with their blood -- the price of their emperor’s vain folly. “Mostly,” he admitted.
“You know,” the Crown Prince continued to reflect, “We drilled for years to launch an assault across this river.” Caprivi nodded his remembrance of their instructors’ words, so he continued. “‘Sortie from Saarlouis,’ they would say, ‘and take Teterchen and Boulay before spreading out to envelop Metz. You will take heavy losses from French defenders, but you must accept them. Never you mind, Prussia can absorb losses better than they.’” The Crown Prince remembered imagining in his mind’s eye his men dying as they charged virtually unassailable French ramparts. He was glad that would not be necessary. “‘They,’ Leo, are not there. ‘They’ are gone... dead on our own lands. And now there is no one left to defend France.”
“It is good this way, My Prince,” agreed Caprivi. “When von Moltke reaches Paris, perhaps no one will be there, either.”
It was Friedrich Wilhelm’s turn to nod agreement. “Leo,” he confided, “I feel drawn to Spain. I want so desperately to go rescue von Bittenfeld.”
“I think he will not stand long enough for you to arrive.”
“I know,” he admitted sadly.
“He and his men,” Caprivi tried to lift the mood, “will be taken prisoner, but then it will merely be our duty to liberate them in a few months. Of that, I am certain.”
The Crown Prince persisted in his morose mood, knowing there would be many dead in Spain before they were captured. Not to mention other Prussian thousands along their path of march.
Caprivi tried a different approach. “If we pass near Parma,” he said, indicating their Italian destination, “perhaps we shall see some of my father’s relatives.”
That made the Crown Prince chuckle. “Take care, my friend, that they do not shoot you before they greet you.”
“Rather, Your Highness, I think it more likely that my Parmese relations would greet me, then shoot me.”
They laughed together. Friedrich Wilhelm’s spirits were raised, because he was reminded that this would be the beginning of the end of this bitter war.
Wow great reversal of fortune. Shame about the bankruptcy but with luck the French shall pay for thier sins.
War Aims
In addition to the normal German claims, you should also demand war reparations... which will help refill the treasury after your bankruptcy!
In addition to the normal German claims, you should also demand war reparations... which will help refill the treasury after your bankruptcy!
Nice update.... I like to see leaders who are human and remember that their greatness is built upon the backs of the lowly soldier!
I like the Crown Prince's idea of marching through to Spain.... now that would be nice to see, a swath of Prussian owned land right through the middle of France! That would make the ownership of Alscace-Lorraine insignificant to the French psyche, eh?
I like the Crown Prince's idea of marching through to Spain.... now that would be nice to see, a swath of Prussian owned land right through the middle of France! That would make the ownership of Alscace-Lorraine insignificant to the French psyche, eh?
Thank you, Lord Greven, Draco, von Lippe, TekcoR and Coz for your comments!Lord G. Q. White said:
Several of you remarked upon how the tide turned so quickly. The ironic thing is how much hinged upon the peace France made with Hesse-Kassel. The balance of forces was changing, and I might have been able to stop the French -- grind them to a halt.
But it was the sudden neutrality of Hesse-Kassel, which they had just crossed, which enabled me to envelop and eliminate their divisions, rather than allowing them to retreat, reinforce and come back after me. Kind of like the parting of the Red Sea for just long enough. And in my case, I was fortunate to have just enough French divisions make it to my side that I could handle them.
Without that happenstance, you might be reading a very different AAR!
Rensslaer
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As long as you don't invade Denmark, Sweden, Norway or Finland, you'll be okay. Espically Denmark!
From The Eagle Rising: The Story of Prussia’s Arrival On the World Stage, pub. 1989 by Professor Reinicke Herz
The debacle in Spain, along with the loss of the Philippines, remain the only stains on an otherwise remarkably successful year for Prussia in 1861. General von Bittenfeld had landed at Seville at the end of 1859, and had kept Spanish defenders in disarray for the entirety of 1860. Splitting his armies, he had captured several provinces at one point or another. His main drive, toward the Spanish capital at Madrid, had been an attempt to bring the Spanish to peace terms. However, he had been turned back at Ciudad Real in March. He had continued to dance with various Spanish armies through the summer, seizing also Cadiz and Marbella, and sometimes winning battles with individual Spanish divisions. But by the end of 1860, Bittenfeld had been cornered in southern Spain. After winning two more battles, in Badajoz and Cordoba, he was forced to settle in for a defense of Cordoba with his full corps as surrounding Spanish divisions closed in. Despite a spirited defense for three full months, he was forced to surrender in May, 1861.
But at the beginning of 1861, Prussian armies were energetically getting underway across the face of Europe. General Tegel remained in the Rhineland to mop up vagrant French divisions and put down various rebellions. General von Moltke began a ride across northern France to disrupt the French economy and, if the opportunity presented itself, to occupy Paris. Crown Prince Friedrich Wilhelm struck south, hugging the Swiss border en route to Italy.
Moltke’s strong cavalry corps, followed by divisions of infantry, began clearing out northern France. Part of the strategic plan was for Prussian armies to occupy as many economic centers as possible in order to inhibit France’s ability to rebuild her military. Moltke secured Verdun, Chalons and Laon, and then bypassed a defended Paris to first secure Amiens.
General von Moltke assaulted Paris on March 15th. It took three full months for the fighting could be considered over, but at the end of June, Paris was operating under Prussian military governance.
Through the summer months, several Prussian corps fenced with several French divisions across northern and southern France. It quickly became apparent that there would be no front. Control of most provinces remained fluid throughout the remainder of the year. Prussia was successful at preventing French retreats into Belgium by controlling the border provinces, and her chief aim during most of 1861 seemed to be the elimination of as many French divisions through envelopment as possible. At this, Prussia also succeeded. They maintained a clear edge in divisions on the ground in France (particularly in cavalry, where the ratio was 12:1) until the month of October, when France began to even the odds and Prussia’s strategic situation became less stable.
While Generals von Moltke and Tegel marshaled Prussian forces to keep France off balance, it was Crown Prince Friedrich Wilhelm whose string of victories had the most far-reaching consequences.
The debacle in Spain, along with the loss of the Philippines, remain the only stains on an otherwise remarkably successful year for Prussia in 1861. General von Bittenfeld had landed at Seville at the end of 1859, and had kept Spanish defenders in disarray for the entirety of 1860. Splitting his armies, he had captured several provinces at one point or another. His main drive, toward the Spanish capital at Madrid, had been an attempt to bring the Spanish to peace terms. However, he had been turned back at Ciudad Real in March. He had continued to dance with various Spanish armies through the summer, seizing also Cadiz and Marbella, and sometimes winning battles with individual Spanish divisions. But by the end of 1860, Bittenfeld had been cornered in southern Spain. After winning two more battles, in Badajoz and Cordoba, he was forced to settle in for a defense of Cordoba with his full corps as surrounding Spanish divisions closed in. Despite a spirited defense for three full months, he was forced to surrender in May, 1861.
But at the beginning of 1861, Prussian armies were energetically getting underway across the face of Europe. General Tegel remained in the Rhineland to mop up vagrant French divisions and put down various rebellions. General von Moltke began a ride across northern France to disrupt the French economy and, if the opportunity presented itself, to occupy Paris. Crown Prince Friedrich Wilhelm struck south, hugging the Swiss border en route to Italy.
Moltke’s strong cavalry corps, followed by divisions of infantry, began clearing out northern France. Part of the strategic plan was for Prussian armies to occupy as many economic centers as possible in order to inhibit France’s ability to rebuild her military. Moltke secured Verdun, Chalons and Laon, and then bypassed a defended Paris to first secure Amiens.
General von Moltke assaulted Paris on March 15th. It took three full months for the fighting could be considered over, but at the end of June, Paris was operating under Prussian military governance.
Through the summer months, several Prussian corps fenced with several French divisions across northern and southern France. It quickly became apparent that there would be no front. Control of most provinces remained fluid throughout the remainder of the year. Prussia was successful at preventing French retreats into Belgium by controlling the border provinces, and her chief aim during most of 1861 seemed to be the elimination of as many French divisions through envelopment as possible. At this, Prussia also succeeded. They maintained a clear edge in divisions on the ground in France (particularly in cavalry, where the ratio was 12:1) until the month of October, when France began to even the odds and Prussia’s strategic situation became less stable.
While Generals von Moltke and Tegel marshaled Prussian forces to keep France off balance, it was Crown Prince Friedrich Wilhelm whose string of victories had the most far-reaching consequences.
Lost the Philippines? How did that happen? Last I heard, you had secured those. And it was nice to see some of that Prussian Blue in Spain. If I recall, they had it coming. Too bad about the surrender, but get some of those boys from up France way to start a new front against them.
Oh, and I had to say - this phrase, "salted the hills and fields of Prussia with their blood" is so very telling, even if you are talking about Frenchmen. It packs a lot of information in a very nice turn of phrase.
Oh, and I had to say - this phrase, "salted the hills and fields of Prussia with their blood" is so very telling, even if you are talking about Frenchmen. It packs a lot of information in a very nice turn of phrase.
Summer, 1861
Thump! The sound came to Rudiger Stengel at the same moment as the sound of a rifle discharge from the darkness ahead and the sensation of his face being splashed by droplets of liquid. His friend, Sigi, fell backward past Stengel and landed heavily on the leaf-padded ground with merely a crackling, rustling sound.
“Sich verstecken! Sich verste… uh!” Their sergeant’s voice was torn away even as he ordered the squad to get their heads down.
Taking cover by a fallen log, Stengel could not see from where in the sea of green and blackness the shots were coming from. From all over, it seemed. Spanish rifles crackled from nearby, yet were invisible in the jungle forest. The bullets flashed past with a thwapping sound. Thick leaves along the trail shivered, sometimes, as if shaken by an invisible hand.
Prussian soldiers fired blindly into the trees and brush. Sighting what looked like a puff of smoke from atop a tree limb, Stengel fired his musket and was rewarded by a scream. If he had not killed the man, at least he had caused him to fall.
Shouts and occasional cries from his fellows, and an unsteady succession of musket discharges, punctuated what was otherwise a suddenly silent trail through the trees. The cloying heat wrapped tightly around them in their sweaty uniforms. Even the darkness of shade was no refuge. Stengel could see nothing but his brothers and the jungle. Some of his friends stood to attempt to reload. Many ducked down again when they were fired upon.
Stengel cowered in place behind some weeds. He fumbled for his packing and ammunition. Finally, he gathered the courage to dash to a nearby tree, raise himself along its length, and try to reload his weapon. Sweat poured down his face as he poured grainy powder, then a cotton-swathed bullet into the barrel. Just then, he observed a puff of smoke coming from behind a tree in the direction he faced. The shot missed, but he was a perfect target for the next one.
He fell, allowing the gun to drop to the ground with him. He quickly seized it and fumbled the ramrod out of its bracket along the barrel. As best he could, from a prone position, he tamped the materials down and hoped something had not gone awry because the rifle was not upright. He locked the hammer back, and took care to place a percussion cap on his firing mechanism, then looked around for some other target against which to employ his weapon.
He watched as his friend Waldo paid the price for trying to load his weapon while under ambush. He fell backward, and clutched at his chest in pain.
“We must get back to the beach!” announced their corporal. “Retreat!”
Stengel knew it was the only reasonable thing they could do. They were pinned down and unable to resist, but there surely weren’t enough Spaniards in the forest to kill them all as they ran, or they would all be dead already. He rose and turned in the direction from which they had come.
As he moved in that direction he stopped to help Waldo, who seemed like he could move but was clearly in distress. A wet, purple stain framed a hole in the blue wool of his uniform. Holding his rifle in one hand, Stengel reached an arm around the man and the two of them together stumbled after the remainders of his squad. They left only four soldiers behind, dead or badly wounded.
A short ways down the trail, Waldo signaled he could not go on without a rest. The pain was surely adding to his exhaustion from running. Waldo might also have a punctured lung, for the way he was breathing. They stopped, and Stengel got to peer behind them. A trio of Spanish irregulars – clad in white cottons, not uniforms – were hopping down the trail after them. He could see other figures bobbing in the darkness of the trail behind them. Stengel bent to his knee and waited for someone to round the bend. He fired. They fell to the ground, or dodged behind the trees, but he had not seemed to have hit anyone.
It was time to go again. Waldo struggled on. At one spot on the trail, three Prussian-Chinese conscripts waited in a counter-ambush while they hobbled past. These eager soldiers halted the pursuit for a brief time, but then the Chinese fell back and the Spanish resumed their chase. Periodic skirmishing occurred all the way back to the beach, which was perhaps only a quarter-mile distance, but which seemed like much longer.
Stengel and his unit had seen ambushes like this before. For a while, the Philippines had seemed “secure.” Defeating the small and poorly led Spanish regiments had been easy. But the Prussians in the Philippines were suffering now from constant uprisings, often organized by Spanish troops who had melted into the hinterlands. And dislodging them from their hiding places – or even discovering them in the first place – was nearly impossible.
In fact, tips from the native Filipinos were about the only way to know. But these natives were split. Some had grown accustomed to the rule of Spain, others were looking for any chance to throw them off, even if it might mean throwing off other Europeans at another time. Because of this division, Prussians following a tip might as easily be led into an ambush as find what they were looking for.
In any case, Stengel was aware that skirmishes with cadres of irregulars were taking place on every Philippine island now. Prussia was sending in reinforcements as quickly as possible, but it was not enough. This was a losing battle. Who could fight an enemy one could not see?
Thump! The sound came to Rudiger Stengel at the same moment as the sound of a rifle discharge from the darkness ahead and the sensation of his face being splashed by droplets of liquid. His friend, Sigi, fell backward past Stengel and landed heavily on the leaf-padded ground with merely a crackling, rustling sound.
“Sich verstecken! Sich verste… uh!” Their sergeant’s voice was torn away even as he ordered the squad to get their heads down.
Taking cover by a fallen log, Stengel could not see from where in the sea of green and blackness the shots were coming from. From all over, it seemed. Spanish rifles crackled from nearby, yet were invisible in the jungle forest. The bullets flashed past with a thwapping sound. Thick leaves along the trail shivered, sometimes, as if shaken by an invisible hand.
Prussian soldiers fired blindly into the trees and brush. Sighting what looked like a puff of smoke from atop a tree limb, Stengel fired his musket and was rewarded by a scream. If he had not killed the man, at least he had caused him to fall.
Shouts and occasional cries from his fellows, and an unsteady succession of musket discharges, punctuated what was otherwise a suddenly silent trail through the trees. The cloying heat wrapped tightly around them in their sweaty uniforms. Even the darkness of shade was no refuge. Stengel could see nothing but his brothers and the jungle. Some of his friends stood to attempt to reload. Many ducked down again when they were fired upon.
Stengel cowered in place behind some weeds. He fumbled for his packing and ammunition. Finally, he gathered the courage to dash to a nearby tree, raise himself along its length, and try to reload his weapon. Sweat poured down his face as he poured grainy powder, then a cotton-swathed bullet into the barrel. Just then, he observed a puff of smoke coming from behind a tree in the direction he faced. The shot missed, but he was a perfect target for the next one.
He fell, allowing the gun to drop to the ground with him. He quickly seized it and fumbled the ramrod out of its bracket along the barrel. As best he could, from a prone position, he tamped the materials down and hoped something had not gone awry because the rifle was not upright. He locked the hammer back, and took care to place a percussion cap on his firing mechanism, then looked around for some other target against which to employ his weapon.
He watched as his friend Waldo paid the price for trying to load his weapon while under ambush. He fell backward, and clutched at his chest in pain.
“We must get back to the beach!” announced their corporal. “Retreat!”
Stengel knew it was the only reasonable thing they could do. They were pinned down and unable to resist, but there surely weren’t enough Spaniards in the forest to kill them all as they ran, or they would all be dead already. He rose and turned in the direction from which they had come.
As he moved in that direction he stopped to help Waldo, who seemed like he could move but was clearly in distress. A wet, purple stain framed a hole in the blue wool of his uniform. Holding his rifle in one hand, Stengel reached an arm around the man and the two of them together stumbled after the remainders of his squad. They left only four soldiers behind, dead or badly wounded.
A short ways down the trail, Waldo signaled he could not go on without a rest. The pain was surely adding to his exhaustion from running. Waldo might also have a punctured lung, for the way he was breathing. They stopped, and Stengel got to peer behind them. A trio of Spanish irregulars – clad in white cottons, not uniforms – were hopping down the trail after them. He could see other figures bobbing in the darkness of the trail behind them. Stengel bent to his knee and waited for someone to round the bend. He fired. They fell to the ground, or dodged behind the trees, but he had not seemed to have hit anyone.
It was time to go again. Waldo struggled on. At one spot on the trail, three Prussian-Chinese conscripts waited in a counter-ambush while they hobbled past. These eager soldiers halted the pursuit for a brief time, but then the Chinese fell back and the Spanish resumed their chase. Periodic skirmishing occurred all the way back to the beach, which was perhaps only a quarter-mile distance, but which seemed like much longer.
Stengel and his unit had seen ambushes like this before. For a while, the Philippines had seemed “secure.” Defeating the small and poorly led Spanish regiments had been easy. But the Prussians in the Philippines were suffering now from constant uprisings, often organized by Spanish troops who had melted into the hinterlands. And dislodging them from their hiding places – or even discovering them in the first place – was nearly impossible.
In fact, tips from the native Filipinos were about the only way to know. But these natives were split. Some had grown accustomed to the rule of Spain, others were looking for any chance to throw them off, even if it might mean throwing off other Europeans at another time. Because of this division, Prussians following a tip might as easily be led into an ambush as find what they were looking for.
In any case, Stengel was aware that skirmishes with cadres of irregulars were taking place on every Philippine island now. Prussia was sending in reinforcements as quickly as possible, but it was not enough. This was a losing battle. Who could fight an enemy one could not see?
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Hey, what did happen in the PI? How did Prussia manage that? And pray tell, what is Freddie doing in southern France that is causing so much brohaha??
Other than that, great update and I must say I'm enjoying the swathe of destruction being left by the Prussian Armies runnin amok in northern France! You just gotta love seeing France humbled!
Other than that, great update and I must say I'm enjoying the swathe of destruction being left by the Prussian Armies runnin amok in northern France! You just gotta love seeing France humbled!
Well, it's the exact same thing that you read about in JoshWeber's Gustavus Envy.Draco Rexus said:
I suddenly had partisans rising up, and they were on these jungle islands. On one island (Mindanao, I think) I sent a 9-8,000 man army to go lock up 170 of these guys, and we got our clocks cleaned!
Watch for those little groves of trees that appear in the combat modifiers box . That's BAD news if you're attacking! And of course these were islands, so I had a seaborne invasion modifier, and couldn't retreat once I started losing.
All told, I think I lost 4-5 whole divisions in the Philippines. Wiped out! Sad tale.
Rensslaer
Rensslaer said:
I didn't just get my clock cleaned. They cleaned it, smashed it in front of me, then peed on the broken pieces.
Ahh, I see you stumbled on the dreaded "quagmire." Who knew the Spanish, at least, would care so much about keeping them. Maybe they were just confident in Iberia. Don't let it stay that way.
Who knew the Spanish, at least, would care so much about keeping them. Maybe they were just confident in Iberia. Don't let it stay that way.
Only way to fight jungle irregulars
What you need is my patented "Napalm Technology" Mod. Guarenteed to convert triple-canopy jungle terrain to savannah with just one dose!
What you need is my patented "Napalm Technology" Mod. Guarenteed to convert triple-canopy jungle terrain to savannah with just one dose!