I've heard of diplomatic backstabbing before, but apparently Vyshinski's taking it to a new level. 
-
We have updated our Community Code of Conduct. Please read through the new rules for the forum that are an integral part of Paradox Interactive’s User Agreement.
canonized: well, I figured it'd be difficult to explain this sort of thing in a serious manner
grayghost: yeah. well, none of them are particularly worrying opponents, really. though some definitely had the ability to be more annoying than others
Edzako: correct, no alliance
grayghost: not necessarily. unlike in a regular game of HoI2, there aren't any other major alliances to join, so...
Spacehusky: exactly what I was aiming for. and if you caught on, you'll also know the minister traits of those two men
General Jac: well, daggers are cool. but that's not the reason they're featured here. as I just mentioned, you can figure out the minister traits. one is more obvious than the other
Dinglehoff: they do in the future, but haven't quite yet, iirc.
rcduggan: not iirc, no. though, of course, crazy things are beginning to happen...but remember, there are no beginning diplomatic ties between countries in this--and that includes GoIs and trade agreements.
4th Dimension: thanks!
VILenin: yes he seems a bit unhinged, doesn't he? perhaps taking his minister trait a bit too seriously
today's just comment day, of course, so the next update will be tomorrow!
grayghost: yeah. well, none of them are particularly worrying opponents, really. though some definitely had the ability to be more annoying than others
Edzako: correct, no alliance
grayghost: not necessarily. unlike in a regular game of HoI2, there aren't any other major alliances to join, so...
Spacehusky: exactly what I was aiming for. and if you caught on, you'll also know the minister traits of those two men
General Jac: well, daggers are cool. but that's not the reason they're featured here. as I just mentioned, you can figure out the minister traits. one is more obvious than the other
Dinglehoff: they do in the future, but haven't quite yet, iirc.
rcduggan: not iirc, no. though, of course, crazy things are beginning to happen...but remember, there are no beginning diplomatic ties between countries in this--and that includes GoIs and trade agreements.
4th Dimension: thanks!
VILenin: yes
he seems a bit unhinged, doesn't he? perhaps taking his minister trait a bit too seriously today's just comment day, of course, so the next update will be tomorrow!
Myth said:
ah, I had forgotten about that. it might have been the GoIs that caused the crazy stuff
Oh very good, Myth! Just discovered this today. The differing styles are entertaining and the LAN progress reports are quite funny. Looking forward to the progress. I'll be following.
nice AAR, I like the lan-game comments a lot, plus the extra point of view by discomb. verrrrry nice
That AAR remembers me on someting, but on what? Well I will be watching. Zerg your enemies.
rcduggan: well, also the AI themselves but a lot of it was GoIs.
coz1: wow! glad to see you like it and will be following along, coz! thanks!
squalleke123: thanks!
Delex: thanks, and I'll certainly do my best to defeat my foes
update coming up in a bit!
coz1: wow! glad to see you like it and will be following along, coz! thanks!
squalleke123: thanks!
Delex: thanks, and I'll certainly do my best to defeat my foes
update coming up in a bit!
15 kilometers south of Kirovabad,
January 7, 1936
Colonel General—Field Marshal, rather, he kept forgetting—Vacietis was no logistician but the invasion of Persia had called for an inordinate amount of logistical preparation due to the known terrible state of Persia's roads and the sheer scale of the proposed offensive. Vacietis had had experience fighting in poor terrain with a poor logistical backing—he had been a Latvian Rifleman officer during the First World War and commanded the Red Latvian Rifleman division during the Russian Civil War, rising through the ranks until he had actually become the first commander in chief of the Soviet Union, as well as a member of the Revolutionary Military Council, before being arrested as a white guard counter-revolutionary and subsequently released as the charges were proven false. In late 1935 he had been pulled from his position as a professor at the Frunze Academy, a position he had held since the end of the civil war, to command the Persian Front. On January 2nd, 1936 he had been promoted to Field Marshal to reflect his appointment to Front command—and silence anybody who doubted his loyalty.
He had completed his invasion plan with the aid of his subordinate corps commanders—Lieutenant Generals Apanasenko and Gaj and Major Generals Bochenkov, Chernyak, Efremov and Petrushevskij. These men were, respectively, the commanders of the 38th, 89th, 43rd, 47th, and 48th Rifle Corps and the Front reserve, the 2nd Cavalry Corps. Vacietis was unsatisfied with the Front's condition; as in nearly every single Soviet Front, the workhouse Rifle Corps were woefully understrength. In fact, every single of Vacietis' corps, including his own 37th Rifle Corps, was actually comprised only a single rifle division each. The 2nd Cavalry Corps was in little better shape, as it was constituted of two cavalry divisions. Vacietis was worried about the quality of his corps staffs; Apanasenko and Gaj had corps-sized staffs but none of his other corps commanders did, a problem that became even more pressing as both Apanasenko and Gaj had deployed their corps south of Kirovabad, alongside Vacietis' own corps and that of Efremov. Bochenkov, Chernyak and Petrushevskij had been deplyed south of Baku, which would allow Petrushevskij's cavalry to race to Teheran and further, save for the fact that between them their staffs could only handle one division attacking along any single axis at one time. Vacietis had requested that STAVKA promote Petrushevskij to Lieutenant General and provide him with the requisite staff for such a position but he had received no word from Moscow concerning this request. The only news that had come from Moscow was that he would invade at 0600 on the 7th.
Sighing, Vacietis looked at his watch; it was 0300. He had time to review his invasion plans one last time before ordering the invasion begin. The invasion would be a two, later three, pronged attack from Kirovabad and Baku. The western prong would consist of the 37th, 38th, 48th and 89th Rifle Corps—four divisions—moving through the locally vital town of Tabriz southward until reaching the vital oilfields at Abadan. The eastern invasion route would consist of the 43rd and 47th Rifle Corps and the 2nd Cavalry Corps—also totaling four divisions—moving first to occupy Teheran before turning southward toward Esfahan where the eastern prong splits into two as the two Rifle Corps march for Bandar Abbas and the cavalry rushes for Babolsar. Looking on the map, this seemed to make little sense as Bandar Abbas was actually physically further from Esfahan than Babolsar, yet the roads seemed to be better there. Vacietis was under a tight schedule, as STAVKA requested that he conquer the entire country in no more than a three months and his men had a great length of road to march down.
Vacietis' operational plan, with the major objectives marked in red.
Vacietis' only solace to the under preparedness of the eastern half of his Front was that the Persian army was so small that they had no units stationed on the border. This was, however, but a slight comfort as their entire army was presumably stationed in or around Teheran, making conquest of the city a matter of fighting with an inadequate command staff. On top of this, the eastern prong was to face far more difficult terrain than their western compatriots. While the western prong encountered the Zagros Mountains quickly near Tabriz before descending down into the valley of the fertile crescent, the eastern route was set to very nearly follow the spine of the difficult mountain range. Babolsar, though closer to Esfahan, marked the end—or perhaps the beginning—of the Zagros Mountains and thus required Petrushevskij's cavalry for a quick capture.
The Zagros Mountains were expected to be the most difficult aspect of the offensive into Persia.
Vacietis shook his head as he fumbled about behind him, groping for a bottle of water. Gripping it, he took it long pull from it before continuing his late night reflections on the coming campaign. The eastern force's attack would be made even more difficult by the ridiculous condition STAVKA had set, that the Persian armed forces not be destroyed. For some reason, they believed that the Persian army would be useful. Vacietis drank more water, almost wishing it was something a great deal stronger. STAVKA was infuriating sometimes; Kliment Voroshilov, the chief of the entire Red Army, was not only entirely clueless about anything military related but actually also commanding the Manchurian Front, making him and his foolish ideas even less relevant to anything. STAVKA's chief, Mikhail Tukhachevskij, was too concerned with the need to mechanize the army and only too infrequently put Voroshilov in his place. Thus, Vacietis had to not only defeat the Persian army but somehow to prevent his Front from roughing it up too much. Idiocy. Vacietis knew that such a ridiculous command would only lead to grief later in the campaign.
Finally, Vacietis checked his watch again. It was 0500 already, somehow two hours had passed by without him realizing. Standing up quickly, he leaned against his map table for a moment as the blood rushed everywhere in his body, trying to compensate for his sudden movement. Once he felt that he could safely walk, Vacietis made his way to where his command staff was resting in various stages of tiredness and sleep. With a deliberate cough, he woke them all up. As they were still jumping out of their seats and snapping to attention, Vacietis was issuing orders. All corps were to begin marching; the invasion of Persia would begin in only one more hour.
January 7, 1936
Colonel General—Field Marshal, rather, he kept forgetting—Vacietis was no logistician but the invasion of Persia had called for an inordinate amount of logistical preparation due to the known terrible state of Persia's roads and the sheer scale of the proposed offensive. Vacietis had had experience fighting in poor terrain with a poor logistical backing—he had been a Latvian Rifleman officer during the First World War and commanded the Red Latvian Rifleman division during the Russian Civil War, rising through the ranks until he had actually become the first commander in chief of the Soviet Union, as well as a member of the Revolutionary Military Council, before being arrested as a white guard counter-revolutionary and subsequently released as the charges were proven false. In late 1935 he had been pulled from his position as a professor at the Frunze Academy, a position he had held since the end of the civil war, to command the Persian Front. On January 2nd, 1936 he had been promoted to Field Marshal to reflect his appointment to Front command—and silence anybody who doubted his loyalty.
He had completed his invasion plan with the aid of his subordinate corps commanders—Lieutenant Generals Apanasenko and Gaj and Major Generals Bochenkov, Chernyak, Efremov and Petrushevskij. These men were, respectively, the commanders of the 38th, 89th, 43rd, 47th, and 48th Rifle Corps and the Front reserve, the 2nd Cavalry Corps. Vacietis was unsatisfied with the Front's condition; as in nearly every single Soviet Front, the workhouse Rifle Corps were woefully understrength. In fact, every single of Vacietis' corps, including his own 37th Rifle Corps, was actually comprised only a single rifle division each. The 2nd Cavalry Corps was in little better shape, as it was constituted of two cavalry divisions. Vacietis was worried about the quality of his corps staffs; Apanasenko and Gaj had corps-sized staffs but none of his other corps commanders did, a problem that became even more pressing as both Apanasenko and Gaj had deployed their corps south of Kirovabad, alongside Vacietis' own corps and that of Efremov. Bochenkov, Chernyak and Petrushevskij had been deplyed south of Baku, which would allow Petrushevskij's cavalry to race to Teheran and further, save for the fact that between them their staffs could only handle one division attacking along any single axis at one time. Vacietis had requested that STAVKA promote Petrushevskij to Lieutenant General and provide him with the requisite staff for such a position but he had received no word from Moscow concerning this request. The only news that had come from Moscow was that he would invade at 0600 on the 7th.
Sighing, Vacietis looked at his watch; it was 0300. He had time to review his invasion plans one last time before ordering the invasion begin. The invasion would be a two, later three, pronged attack from Kirovabad and Baku. The western prong would consist of the 37th, 38th, 48th and 89th Rifle Corps—four divisions—moving through the locally vital town of Tabriz southward until reaching the vital oilfields at Abadan. The eastern invasion route would consist of the 43rd and 47th Rifle Corps and the 2nd Cavalry Corps—also totaling four divisions—moving first to occupy Teheran before turning southward toward Esfahan where the eastern prong splits into two as the two Rifle Corps march for Bandar Abbas and the cavalry rushes for Babolsar. Looking on the map, this seemed to make little sense as Bandar Abbas was actually physically further from Esfahan than Babolsar, yet the roads seemed to be better there. Vacietis was under a tight schedule, as STAVKA requested that he conquer the entire country in no more than a three months and his men had a great length of road to march down.
Vacietis' operational plan, with the major objectives marked in red.
Vacietis' only solace to the under preparedness of the eastern half of his Front was that the Persian army was so small that they had no units stationed on the border. This was, however, but a slight comfort as their entire army was presumably stationed in or around Teheran, making conquest of the city a matter of fighting with an inadequate command staff. On top of this, the eastern prong was to face far more difficult terrain than their western compatriots. While the western prong encountered the Zagros Mountains quickly near Tabriz before descending down into the valley of the fertile crescent, the eastern route was set to very nearly follow the spine of the difficult mountain range. Babolsar, though closer to Esfahan, marked the end—or perhaps the beginning—of the Zagros Mountains and thus required Petrushevskij's cavalry for a quick capture.
The Zagros Mountains were expected to be the most difficult aspect of the offensive into Persia.
Vacietis shook his head as he fumbled about behind him, groping for a bottle of water. Gripping it, he took it long pull from it before continuing his late night reflections on the coming campaign. The eastern force's attack would be made even more difficult by the ridiculous condition STAVKA had set, that the Persian armed forces not be destroyed. For some reason, they believed that the Persian army would be useful. Vacietis drank more water, almost wishing it was something a great deal stronger. STAVKA was infuriating sometimes; Kliment Voroshilov, the chief of the entire Red Army, was not only entirely clueless about anything military related but actually also commanding the Manchurian Front, making him and his foolish ideas even less relevant to anything. STAVKA's chief, Mikhail Tukhachevskij, was too concerned with the need to mechanize the army and only too infrequently put Voroshilov in his place. Thus, Vacietis had to not only defeat the Persian army but somehow to prevent his Front from roughing it up too much. Idiocy. Vacietis knew that such a ridiculous command would only lead to grief later in the campaign.
Finally, Vacietis checked his watch again. It was 0500 already, somehow two hours had passed by without him realizing. Standing up quickly, he leaned against his map table for a moment as the blood rushed everywhere in his body, trying to compensate for his sudden movement. Once he felt that he could safely walk, Vacietis made his way to where his command staff was resting in various stages of tiredness and sleep. With a deliberate cough, he woke them all up. As they were still jumping out of their seats and snapping to attention, Vacietis was issuing orders. All corps were to begin marching; the invasion of Persia would begin in only one more hour.
Congradulations with your new title Myth, now you are saint. Also nice that Stalin decided to release Vacieti and what is more trusted enough to grant front line duty.
Edzako said:
ROFL , Myth's already been Canonized once before so he gets to join the few who have double dipped XD . Just him and grayghost as I recall at the moment XD .
Interesting AAR. If I ever get a bit of multiplayer Doomsday running (problems with IPs, Valkyrienet, and general incompetence) I'll be tempted to try a similarly epic struggle.
It's a sound plan, but you'll have to do a mighty job of outfitting those Persians if their army is to be useful after the fact.
And yes, those maps are lovely.
And yes, those maps are lovely.
Edzako: yes, in this timeline, there is no purge and Stalin is a bit less violently paranoid about the generals. Vacietis is only one of the Latvians who thus survives (Alksnis another, and Rudzutaks, Eduards Berzins, Janis Berzins, Mezlauks, Eihe...save for Alksnin and J. Berzins, all part of my modding). thanks!
canonized: so being canonized one means to be beautified, canonized twice means you become a saint...canonized three times turns you into the son of god, maybe?
Incognitia: yes, it is certainly an interesting way to play the game. if you can, I suggest lanning as then you don't have to work through valkyrienet, making it much simpler and possibly more reliable. plus, the satisfaction of yelling at them if things are going well, or badly. good fun
stnylan: thanks!
coz1: indeed, and even if I outfit the Persians, its questionable what kind of help they could be, as one of our house rules is that, though we are allowed puppets, we are not allowed to military control them. but yes, I do quite like the maps myself. maybe later on in the AAR, or at its end, I'll reveal how I made them
comment day again! the next update will be tomorrow
canonized: so being canonized one means to be beautified, canonized twice means you become a saint...canonized three times turns you into the son of god, maybe?
Incognitia: yes, it is certainly an interesting way to play the game. if you can, I suggest lanning as then you don't have to work through valkyrienet, making it much simpler and possibly more reliable. plus, the satisfaction of yelling at them if things are going well, or badly. good fun
stnylan: thanks!
coz1: indeed, and even if I outfit the Persians, its questionable what kind of help they could be, as one of our house rules is that, though we are allowed puppets, we are not allowed to military control them. but yes, I do quite like the maps myself. maybe later on in the AAR, or at its end, I'll reveal how I made them
comment day again! the next update will be tomorrow
Those mountains could prove difficult if Persia decides to deploy some divisions there, but in the end I think the superior numbers of the Red army will prove decisive .
.
General Jac: yes, hopefully. though Vacietis seems to have the same problem Kuznetsov does: major generals commanding corps
update coming up in a bit!
update coming up in a bit!
7 Kilometers south of Erzurum
January 19, 1936
Kuznetsov walked amongst the shattered and burning vehicles of three Turkish infantry divisions, their flames lighting the track he was following. It was a dark night, and a steady rain poured down to mask even the darkness, transforming the world into merely waypoints set by burning trucks. He was looking for Berman's headquarters, which he knew were supposed to be somewhere to the south of Erzurum. His bodyguards had fanned out on every side of him, searching for Turkish soldiers who were still alive and—a solitary gunshot rent the air, causing Kuznetsov to jump—make sure they were not a threat. His staff straggled out behind him, some of them intent on looting the dead for souvenirs, others on avoiding the corpses at all cost. Kuznetsov did neither, but simply forged straight ahead. His corps' attack toward Sivas would begin any minute and he needed to be at Berman's headquarters before then. He wanted the full picture.
He knew that as soon as Berman reached Kars, which had occurred late on the 8th, he began pushing right toward Erzurum despite frantic Turkish attacks on his advancing cavalry. He engaged Wehib Pasha's division at midnight, successfully driving it back in twelve hours of heavy fighting in front of Erzurum. Since then, however, he had had little contact with Berman, though apparently the fighting in Erzurum had continued with vigor as the Turks fed more units into the fray in a desperate attempt to halt the invasion. Kuznetsov, lost in his thoughts, nearly tripped over a corpse before catching his balance and noting, with little emotion, that the man had once been a Russian soldier. Kuznetsov shook his head, Berman was a stickler for burying his dead if at all possible; the fighting must have been heavy to prevent him from doing so. Or he was too concerned with advancing; Berman was also known to be fairly single-minded when focused. If this latter was the case, Berman might not even be in Erzurum any more in his haste to advance. Kuznetsov sighed. He had hoped to modify Berman's task slightly.
Suddenly, he heard talking ahead, somewhere in the darkness beyond the flames of the latest burning truck, a vehicle so old it was of Ottoman vintage. Kuznetsov hurried forward to see his bodyguards conversing with Berman's own guards. With a grin of relief Kuznetsov passed his men, detailing two of them to gather up his command staff as he passed, and entered into the warm glow of the half-destroyed farmhouse that served as Berman's headquarters. Berman met him with a salute and a handshake before grasping Kuznetsov's arm and pulling him toward the map pinned up on the wall.
“We've been out of contact for over a week—a lucky artillery shot had wrecked my radio. The fighting for Erzurum was hard.”
“I noticed myself. The fighting seems to have arched in a crescent from east of the town to south of it.”
“Yes. I decided to bypass the town itself as it was not worth fighting for it and the Turks barely defended it anyway. I broke them on its outskirts. On the 9th, you know, my cavalry wrecked Wehib Pasha. At 0500 on the 10th, the Turks threw in a division under the command of Colonel General Namut, a man as skilled in the defense as Wehib Pasha. Needless to say, this level of skill was not enough to halt my advance and his own force broke after five hours. At midnight, my cavalry received the final shipment of modern equipment due to them, thus finally completely turning my corps into a reasonably potent force that could be pitted against a like-sized infantry force. At 0100 on the 11th, another Turkish infantry division under the command of Colonel General Karabekir appears and attempts not only to hold my cavalry but to attempt to push toward Kars as well. Their drive forward had halted before the hour was up and by 1300 they too were in full flight.”
The three battles for Erzurum, resulting in the defeat of a trio of Turkish infantry divisions.
Kuznetsov nodded. “How're your men?”
“They'll fight, no doubt there. They can still whip another Turkish division or three if necessary.”
“Good, because that's exactly what they'll do. Rather than going through Elazig toward Gazientep, I want you to drive south toward Batman first.”
Berman blinked. “There'd better be a good reason for this, my boys want to reach Gazientep as soon as possible.”
Kuznetsov nodded again. “There is. The Turks have a division at Van. By capturing Batman, you'll not only place yourselves next to Gazientep, but you'll have the opportunity to completely destroy a Turkish division that would otherwise be in your rear.”
Berman scratched his chin as he stared at the map. After a moment of hesitation, he replied. “All right, I'll do it. A total victory of that sort will do my boys good. They know they won here but a partial victory, leaving the enemy retreating rather than dead or surrendered, hasn't satisfied them.”
The revised operational plan called for a slight change in Berman's line of march.
Kuznetsov suddenly changed the track of the conversation. “Say, have you heard about how the Germans are doing?”
Berman sighed in a slightly exaggerated manner. “Yeah. Denmark and now they're devastating Czechoslovakia. Nothing really unexpected yet, right?”
Shaking his head in response, Kuznetsov held up a hand for silence and cocked his head, listening. Dimly, off in the distance, he heard the oscillating rumble of artillery as the light artillery of his two mountain divisions exchanged fire with the artillery of Gürzlin's division, recently arrived in Sivas from its defeat around Trebizond at the hands of Deev's 2nd Mountain Corps. Soon reports began flooding through the radio sets of his headquarters staff, who had somehow managed to protect their equipment from the rain that had been pouring for the past week and a half and find a dry spot in the farmhouse to set it up. Kuznetsov checked his watch; it was 0200 in the morning. With a sigh, he dragged the vodka bottle out of his overcoat pocket and produced two shot glasses, offering one to Berman.
Kuznetsov's push toward Sivas against Major General Gürzlin.
With a smile, Berman accepted and Kuznetsov poured them each a shot before putting the bottle back into his pocket. Raising their glasses in silent toast to their tired but fighting soldiers, they both downed the fiery liquid. With a sigh, Kuznetsov took back his second shot glass, hiding both into another of his pockets, before finding the stairs to the roofless second floor of the farmhouse. Climbing up, he stared off into the distance, seeing the dim glow of battle across the hills. As soon as the sun dawned, Kuznetsov would move his headquarters to his own half-destroyed farmhouse, somewhere more in line with his own axis of advance.
January 19, 1936
Kuznetsov walked amongst the shattered and burning vehicles of three Turkish infantry divisions, their flames lighting the track he was following. It was a dark night, and a steady rain poured down to mask even the darkness, transforming the world into merely waypoints set by burning trucks. He was looking for Berman's headquarters, which he knew were supposed to be somewhere to the south of Erzurum. His bodyguards had fanned out on every side of him, searching for Turkish soldiers who were still alive and—a solitary gunshot rent the air, causing Kuznetsov to jump—make sure they were not a threat. His staff straggled out behind him, some of them intent on looting the dead for souvenirs, others on avoiding the corpses at all cost. Kuznetsov did neither, but simply forged straight ahead. His corps' attack toward Sivas would begin any minute and he needed to be at Berman's headquarters before then. He wanted the full picture.
He knew that as soon as Berman reached Kars, which had occurred late on the 8th, he began pushing right toward Erzurum despite frantic Turkish attacks on his advancing cavalry. He engaged Wehib Pasha's division at midnight, successfully driving it back in twelve hours of heavy fighting in front of Erzurum. Since then, however, he had had little contact with Berman, though apparently the fighting in Erzurum had continued with vigor as the Turks fed more units into the fray in a desperate attempt to halt the invasion. Kuznetsov, lost in his thoughts, nearly tripped over a corpse before catching his balance and noting, with little emotion, that the man had once been a Russian soldier. Kuznetsov shook his head, Berman was a stickler for burying his dead if at all possible; the fighting must have been heavy to prevent him from doing so. Or he was too concerned with advancing; Berman was also known to be fairly single-minded when focused. If this latter was the case, Berman might not even be in Erzurum any more in his haste to advance. Kuznetsov sighed. He had hoped to modify Berman's task slightly.
Suddenly, he heard talking ahead, somewhere in the darkness beyond the flames of the latest burning truck, a vehicle so old it was of Ottoman vintage. Kuznetsov hurried forward to see his bodyguards conversing with Berman's own guards. With a grin of relief Kuznetsov passed his men, detailing two of them to gather up his command staff as he passed, and entered into the warm glow of the half-destroyed farmhouse that served as Berman's headquarters. Berman met him with a salute and a handshake before grasping Kuznetsov's arm and pulling him toward the map pinned up on the wall.
“We've been out of contact for over a week—a lucky artillery shot had wrecked my radio. The fighting for Erzurum was hard.”
“I noticed myself. The fighting seems to have arched in a crescent from east of the town to south of it.”
“Yes. I decided to bypass the town itself as it was not worth fighting for it and the Turks barely defended it anyway. I broke them on its outskirts. On the 9th, you know, my cavalry wrecked Wehib Pasha. At 0500 on the 10th, the Turks threw in a division under the command of Colonel General Namut, a man as skilled in the defense as Wehib Pasha. Needless to say, this level of skill was not enough to halt my advance and his own force broke after five hours. At midnight, my cavalry received the final shipment of modern equipment due to them, thus finally completely turning my corps into a reasonably potent force that could be pitted against a like-sized infantry force. At 0100 on the 11th, another Turkish infantry division under the command of Colonel General Karabekir appears and attempts not only to hold my cavalry but to attempt to push toward Kars as well. Their drive forward had halted before the hour was up and by 1300 they too were in full flight.”
The three battles for Erzurum, resulting in the defeat of a trio of Turkish infantry divisions.
Kuznetsov nodded. “How're your men?”
“They'll fight, no doubt there. They can still whip another Turkish division or three if necessary.”
“Good, because that's exactly what they'll do. Rather than going through Elazig toward Gazientep, I want you to drive south toward Batman first.”
Berman blinked. “There'd better be a good reason for this, my boys want to reach Gazientep as soon as possible.”
Kuznetsov nodded again. “There is. The Turks have a division at Van. By capturing Batman, you'll not only place yourselves next to Gazientep, but you'll have the opportunity to completely destroy a Turkish division that would otherwise be in your rear.”
Berman scratched his chin as he stared at the map. After a moment of hesitation, he replied. “All right, I'll do it. A total victory of that sort will do my boys good. They know they won here but a partial victory, leaving the enemy retreating rather than dead or surrendered, hasn't satisfied them.”
The revised operational plan called for a slight change in Berman's line of march.
Kuznetsov suddenly changed the track of the conversation. “Say, have you heard about how the Germans are doing?”
Berman sighed in a slightly exaggerated manner. “Yeah. Denmark and now they're devastating Czechoslovakia. Nothing really unexpected yet, right?”
Shaking his head in response, Kuznetsov held up a hand for silence and cocked his head, listening. Dimly, off in the distance, he heard the oscillating rumble of artillery as the light artillery of his two mountain divisions exchanged fire with the artillery of Gürzlin's division, recently arrived in Sivas from its defeat around Trebizond at the hands of Deev's 2nd Mountain Corps. Soon reports began flooding through the radio sets of his headquarters staff, who had somehow managed to protect their equipment from the rain that had been pouring for the past week and a half and find a dry spot in the farmhouse to set it up. Kuznetsov checked his watch; it was 0200 in the morning. With a sigh, he dragged the vodka bottle out of his overcoat pocket and produced two shot glasses, offering one to Berman.
Kuznetsov's push toward Sivas against Major General Gürzlin.
With a smile, Berman accepted and Kuznetsov poured them each a shot before putting the bottle back into his pocket. Raising their glasses in silent toast to their tired but fighting soldiers, they both downed the fiery liquid. With a sigh, Kuznetsov took back his second shot glass, hiding both into another of his pockets, before finding the stairs to the roofless second floor of the farmhouse. Climbing up, he stared off into the distance, seeing the dim glow of battle across the hills. As soon as the sun dawned, Kuznetsov would move his headquarters to his own half-destroyed farmhouse, somewhere more in line with his own axis of advance.
Ahh yes , using the 'axis' term has always been one of your trademarks , Mr. Myth ! An interesting forway into Turkey so far .
Great war cavalry against great war infantry. Only the trenches are missing...
Great update!
Great update!