Good luck....here the AI should help you out, but it should still be an interesting fight. Stukov in London! 
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Mettermrck: Let all us freedom hating communists hope so
generalbob: :rofl: Even "worser" than Stukov in Paris?
---------------------------------------------
August 1st, 1943
Somewhere in the English countryside outside of Southampton, Skorzeny prowled through the underbrush. Despite his bulk, the Austrian managed to move silently towards his target. The sheer blackness of the night worked to his advantage, making him practically invisible.
Stukov was paying him good money to work as a commando for the Soviet NKVD. It was one of the few things to keep boredom from driving him insane. During his brief absence from the German resistance, NKVD specialists had wiped it out, leaving him, their self-appointed leader, with nothing to do.
Ahead, he could hear the sound of the Channel waters. He emerged from the foilage, crawling on his hands and knees. Despite orders for a total blackout along the coast, a British AA battery was well lit. Just a few yards away, the crew sat around lazily trying to preoccupy themselves. Their voices carried further into the night than they realized.
Skorzeny stood up and silently walked towards a British soldier relieving himself away from the battery. Skorzeny grabbed the man's neck and snapped it before he could utter a sound, dropping the dead man to the ground.
He moved closer towards the battery, counting another five British soldiers. He drew his silenced weapon, a strange contraption of his own construction. Leveling the barrel, he opened fire, emptying the whole clip within a blink of the eye. Smoke curled up lazily from the muzzel of his weapon.
Skorzeny snorted in contempt, "This is too easy," he said aloud. Walking up towards the gun battery, he casually glanced at the dead Allied soldiers. One of them twitched. Without a thought, Skorzeny whipped out his silenced pistol, firing several rounds into the now dead man's skull.
The anti-aircraft battery had been placed at the top of a large cliff along the coast. Down below, waves smashed into the rock walls. Skorzeny pulled out his infared scope, a gift from the Soviets, and scanned east. Though the port was totally blacked out, Skorzeny could spot Southampton.
Dropping his pack to the ground, he riffled through it for a moment. The faint thrum of airplane engines could be heard to the south. Hurriedly, Skorzeny pulled out several flares. Without even checking south, he lit the flares, hurling several of them east and placing several more at the battery site.
Satisfied, he idly sat back and waited.
--------------------------------
Yakov stiffled a yawn, trying to remain alert. As the pilot of one of the first transport planes, his job was critical. The night sky was almost pitch black, and it would be too easy to get lost. He peered into the night and saw his signal.
He glanced back into the "cargo hold" of the plane, checking on the passengers, "We're coming up on the coast now, get ready."
He turned back, the noise of the paratroopers preparing was a mild distraction. Up ahead, several faint lights appeared. Since the Allies had ordered a complete blackout, it could only mean one thing.
The English coastline loomed closer, and the flares were plainly seen. Further to the east and west, more flares lit up. It was all part of a complex plan.
The Soviet air armada roared over the British coast. Waiting a few more moments, he yelled back.
"All clear, now jump!"
Though he could not see them, other transport planes were doing the exact same thing. Thousands of paratroopers hurled themselves into the night sky. Yakov continued flying his plane steadily north. A squadron of British planes zipped through the Soviet formation. Unleashing a devastating barrage, the British cut through the Soviets, targetting planes at will.
Yakov looked back. The last of the paratroopers finally disembarked. Quickly, he glanced at his nervous copilot then banked the plane right, just in time to see a British plane roar past, bullets flying. First at the front of the formation, Yakov was now at the rear. Several planes ahead broke apart, exploded, or spiralled to the earth. The British fighter had turned back for another attack run, riddling the plane with bullets. Several bullets slashed through the cabin, shattering the glass cockpit window.
Yakov glanced at his copilot. Blood flowed down his flightsuit from several large holes in his chest and legs.
Once more, the fighter turned back, lining up its sights. Flack bursts peppered the fighter. Several blasts ripped through the fighter, erupting in a fireball as it past below Yakov's plane.
Though more British planes harrassed the Soviet formation, the planes were once again heading out over the Channel towards the safety of occupied France.
-------------------------------------
Skorzeny grinned in satisfaction as he saw the British fighter explode in the AA battery's sights.
The parachutes of the Soviet soldiers filled the night sky. Several of them had already landed, regrouping for an assault on Southampton.
"All too easy," Skorzeny muttered to himself.
generalbob: :rofl: Even "worser" than Stukov in Paris?
---------------------------------------------
August 1st, 1943
Somewhere in the English countryside outside of Southampton, Skorzeny prowled through the underbrush. Despite his bulk, the Austrian managed to move silently towards his target. The sheer blackness of the night worked to his advantage, making him practically invisible.
Stukov was paying him good money to work as a commando for the Soviet NKVD. It was one of the few things to keep boredom from driving him insane. During his brief absence from the German resistance, NKVD specialists had wiped it out, leaving him, their self-appointed leader, with nothing to do.
Ahead, he could hear the sound of the Channel waters. He emerged from the foilage, crawling on his hands and knees. Despite orders for a total blackout along the coast, a British AA battery was well lit. Just a few yards away, the crew sat around lazily trying to preoccupy themselves. Their voices carried further into the night than they realized.
Skorzeny stood up and silently walked towards a British soldier relieving himself away from the battery. Skorzeny grabbed the man's neck and snapped it before he could utter a sound, dropping the dead man to the ground.
He moved closer towards the battery, counting another five British soldiers. He drew his silenced weapon, a strange contraption of his own construction. Leveling the barrel, he opened fire, emptying the whole clip within a blink of the eye. Smoke curled up lazily from the muzzel of his weapon.
Skorzeny snorted in contempt, "This is too easy," he said aloud. Walking up towards the gun battery, he casually glanced at the dead Allied soldiers. One of them twitched. Without a thought, Skorzeny whipped out his silenced pistol, firing several rounds into the now dead man's skull.
The anti-aircraft battery had been placed at the top of a large cliff along the coast. Down below, waves smashed into the rock walls. Skorzeny pulled out his infared scope, a gift from the Soviets, and scanned east. Though the port was totally blacked out, Skorzeny could spot Southampton.
Dropping his pack to the ground, he riffled through it for a moment. The faint thrum of airplane engines could be heard to the south. Hurriedly, Skorzeny pulled out several flares. Without even checking south, he lit the flares, hurling several of them east and placing several more at the battery site.
Satisfied, he idly sat back and waited.
--------------------------------
Yakov stiffled a yawn, trying to remain alert. As the pilot of one of the first transport planes, his job was critical. The night sky was almost pitch black, and it would be too easy to get lost. He peered into the night and saw his signal.
He glanced back into the "cargo hold" of the plane, checking on the passengers, "We're coming up on the coast now, get ready."
He turned back, the noise of the paratroopers preparing was a mild distraction. Up ahead, several faint lights appeared. Since the Allies had ordered a complete blackout, it could only mean one thing.
The English coastline loomed closer, and the flares were plainly seen. Further to the east and west, more flares lit up. It was all part of a complex plan.
The Soviet air armada roared over the British coast. Waiting a few more moments, he yelled back.
"All clear, now jump!"
Though he could not see them, other transport planes were doing the exact same thing. Thousands of paratroopers hurled themselves into the night sky. Yakov continued flying his plane steadily north. A squadron of British planes zipped through the Soviet formation. Unleashing a devastating barrage, the British cut through the Soviets, targetting planes at will.
Yakov looked back. The last of the paratroopers finally disembarked. Quickly, he glanced at his nervous copilot then banked the plane right, just in time to see a British plane roar past, bullets flying. First at the front of the formation, Yakov was now at the rear. Several planes ahead broke apart, exploded, or spiralled to the earth. The British fighter had turned back for another attack run, riddling the plane with bullets. Several bullets slashed through the cabin, shattering the glass cockpit window.
Yakov glanced at his copilot. Blood flowed down his flightsuit from several large holes in his chest and legs.
Once more, the fighter turned back, lining up its sights. Flack bursts peppered the fighter. Several blasts ripped through the fighter, erupting in a fireball as it past below Yakov's plane.
Though more British planes harrassed the Soviet formation, the planes were once again heading out over the Channel towards the safety of occupied France.
-------------------------------------
Skorzeny grinned in satisfaction as he saw the British fighter explode in the AA battery's sights.
The parachutes of the Soviet soldiers filled the night sky. Several of them had already landed, regrouping for an assault on Southampton.
"All too easy," Skorzeny muttered to himself.
August 10th, 1943
The sun was just barely rising over the horizon as the Soviet generals Konev, Vatutin, and Vorobiev stood at the docks at Southampton waiting for the last arrivals.
The last several days had been a whirlwind of luck for the Soviets. After the succesful siezure of Southampton, Soviet transports had begun ferrying troops across the Channel.
Unfortunately, the Royal Navy had responded too quickly, forcing the transports to move further west. This had also delayed the Soviet armies, who had then had to be loaded up at Cherbourg. Still, a small group of Royal Navy ships had continued to harass the Soviet ships, eventually being driven off. This brief opening allowed Konev to race his army across the Channel, reinforcing the paratroopers on the 3rd of August.
A pattern had formed afterwards. The same Royal Navy force would attack, then be driven off. Soviet forces would rush onto the transports and race across to Britain. It had been going on for a week now.
The transports floated into the harbor, several of them sinking slowly into the water, others with damaged hulls. The sailors were exhausted, having worked almost nonstop for a week carrying thousands of troops and fighting off British attacks. Overall, the fotilla was a mess.
A small tramp freighter listed towards the dock, bumping unceremoneously into it, nearly unbalancing the Soviet generals.
Chuikov stepped down from the boat ahead of all the other soldiers. He was grinning.
As he approached the others, his grin grew and he stretched out his arms, "Comrades!" he yelled, embracing them in a giant bear hug.
The three others quickly backed away, trying to compose themselves, "Welcome to Britain, comrade," said Konev.
"And nothing went wrong," gibbed Vatutin.
Chuikov pointed back towards the ships, "Say that again?"
Vorobiev butted in, "Please, let's go somewhere else. We're only in the way here."
The generals proceeded through the streets of Southampton, Soviet soldiers and personnel everywhere. Civilians glared at them with hatred or resignation.
"We've deployed our armies in a wide perimeter around the city," said Vatutin.
Chuikov nodded, "Any armed response?"
"Aside from a few angry farmers and drunks, no. The British weren't ready. Though if we'd waited any longer, there'd have been thousands of Allied troops waiting as a greeting party."
"Did anything go wrong?" Chuikov asked.
Vorobiev nodded, "A few things. Because of misdrops, Plymouth wasn't captured, and we lost a good number of our planes."
"But for the largest amphibious operation in the history of warfare, it went pretty well," joked Konev.
"We now have 450,000 soldiers in the British Isles. Once they fall, Europe is ours."
Konev beamed, "Today England, tomorrow the world."
The sun was just barely rising over the horizon as the Soviet generals Konev, Vatutin, and Vorobiev stood at the docks at Southampton waiting for the last arrivals.
The last several days had been a whirlwind of luck for the Soviets. After the succesful siezure of Southampton, Soviet transports had begun ferrying troops across the Channel.
Unfortunately, the Royal Navy had responded too quickly, forcing the transports to move further west. This had also delayed the Soviet armies, who had then had to be loaded up at Cherbourg. Still, a small group of Royal Navy ships had continued to harass the Soviet ships, eventually being driven off. This brief opening allowed Konev to race his army across the Channel, reinforcing the paratroopers on the 3rd of August.
A pattern had formed afterwards. The same Royal Navy force would attack, then be driven off. Soviet forces would rush onto the transports and race across to Britain. It had been going on for a week now.
The transports floated into the harbor, several of them sinking slowly into the water, others with damaged hulls. The sailors were exhausted, having worked almost nonstop for a week carrying thousands of troops and fighting off British attacks. Overall, the fotilla was a mess.
A small tramp freighter listed towards the dock, bumping unceremoneously into it, nearly unbalancing the Soviet generals.
Chuikov stepped down from the boat ahead of all the other soldiers. He was grinning.
As he approached the others, his grin grew and he stretched out his arms, "Comrades!" he yelled, embracing them in a giant bear hug.
The three others quickly backed away, trying to compose themselves, "Welcome to Britain, comrade," said Konev.
"And nothing went wrong," gibbed Vatutin.
Chuikov pointed back towards the ships, "Say that again?"
Vorobiev butted in, "Please, let's go somewhere else. We're only in the way here."
The generals proceeded through the streets of Southampton, Soviet soldiers and personnel everywhere. Civilians glared at them with hatred or resignation.
"We've deployed our armies in a wide perimeter around the city," said Vatutin.
Chuikov nodded, "Any armed response?"
"Aside from a few angry farmers and drunks, no. The British weren't ready. Though if we'd waited any longer, there'd have been thousands of Allied troops waiting as a greeting party."
"Did anything go wrong?" Chuikov asked.
Vorobiev nodded, "A few things. Because of misdrops, Plymouth wasn't captured, and we lost a good number of our planes."
"But for the largest amphibious operation in the history of warfare, it went pretty well," joked Konev.
"We now have 450,000 soldiers in the British Isles. Once they fall, Europe is ours."
Konev beamed, "Today England, tomorrow the world."
The British have a nice defense made out of construction paper. It should put up a really brief fight.
Once the Isles fall, Britain won't have any good naval bases in the north anymore (unless they have Iceland/Greenland?), and you'll have free reign, hurrah! You still have to worry about possible American involvement, but you've got Europe pretty well hammered down, now.
Mettermrck: Better hurry before they put some glue and glitter to back it up.
Morpheus506: Yeah, they have Iceland and Greenland.
----------------------------------------------------
September 4th, 1943
The heart of the Soviet Empire was quiet. Though lit up in splendid pagentry extoling the glory of their revolution, the inside of the Kremlin was dark and muted. The czarist legacy of the past haunted the Soviet citadel. The ghosts of political intruiges, moral decadence, and outright murder filled every room. It could easily unnerve even the strongest willed.
To Stukov, the idea was amusing. Countless rulers had made their schemes, plans, and ambitions from this place. Yet he was the greatest of them all, with the grandest, most succesful, most ambitious aspirations of any of them.
He glanced down at Azuren. Soundly sleeping cuddled up at his side, she alone thought and acted as he did. Gently he stroked her hair, trying not to disturb her. She quietly whined in contentment, adjusting in her sleep to better fit into Stukov's embrace. Heat radiated off her naked body, delighting Stukov. To him, she was perfect. Only Azuren truely understood his goal. Stukov did not merely wish to conquer the globe for his glory. He wished to go beyond that, reshaping it into his grand vision of perfection. But blood, untold rivers, would have to be spilt. The old orders of the past would be uprooted and destroyed. The very foundations of civilization would quake and crumble before his grand designs. But before then, a war must be fought and won.
Stukov snorted. The war, so far from Moscow, seemed a distant, almost irrelevant event. Allied opposition was almost insignificant. In less than a month, England and Wales had fallen, Ireland close behind, the French puppets of Lebanon and Syria had been smashed, and Gibraltor had fallen without a shot fired.
All that was left was the leftovers, the survivors of the decaying Commonwealth scattered around the globe. They too would end in due time. All in due time.
But one variable remained uncertain. Browder. Stukov had no past experience with the tyrant of the USSA, and that made him dangerous. Though Stukov had been relieved to hear the USSA was militaryily as weak as ever. If Browder wished to oppose the Soviet Union, he would be sorely dissapointed. Still, the threat remained.
As the night wore on, sleep finally overtook Stukov. Together, the two lovers slept as their grand plans unfolded onto an unsuspecting world.
Morpheus506: Yeah, they have Iceland and Greenland.
----------------------------------------------------
September 4th, 1943
The heart of the Soviet Empire was quiet. Though lit up in splendid pagentry extoling the glory of their revolution, the inside of the Kremlin was dark and muted. The czarist legacy of the past haunted the Soviet citadel. The ghosts of political intruiges, moral decadence, and outright murder filled every room. It could easily unnerve even the strongest willed.
To Stukov, the idea was amusing. Countless rulers had made their schemes, plans, and ambitions from this place. Yet he was the greatest of them all, with the grandest, most succesful, most ambitious aspirations of any of them.
He glanced down at Azuren. Soundly sleeping cuddled up at his side, she alone thought and acted as he did. Gently he stroked her hair, trying not to disturb her. She quietly whined in contentment, adjusting in her sleep to better fit into Stukov's embrace. Heat radiated off her naked body, delighting Stukov. To him, she was perfect. Only Azuren truely understood his goal. Stukov did not merely wish to conquer the globe for his glory. He wished to go beyond that, reshaping it into his grand vision of perfection. But blood, untold rivers, would have to be spilt. The old orders of the past would be uprooted and destroyed. The very foundations of civilization would quake and crumble before his grand designs. But before then, a war must be fought and won.
Stukov snorted. The war, so far from Moscow, seemed a distant, almost irrelevant event. Allied opposition was almost insignificant. In less than a month, England and Wales had fallen, Ireland close behind, the French puppets of Lebanon and Syria had been smashed, and Gibraltor had fallen without a shot fired.
All that was left was the leftovers, the survivors of the decaying Commonwealth scattered around the globe. They too would end in due time. All in due time.
But one variable remained uncertain. Browder. Stukov had no past experience with the tyrant of the USSA, and that made him dangerous. Though Stukov had been relieved to hear the USSA was militaryily as weak as ever. If Browder wished to oppose the Soviet Union, he would be sorely dissapointed. Still, the threat remained.
As the night wore on, sleep finally overtook Stukov. Together, the two lovers slept as their grand plans unfolded onto an unsuspecting world.
*Yawn*....wha? What happened?
We conquered England.
We did? How did we do that? I go to bed in Southampton and now we're in Edinburgh?
You left the parking brake off.
We conquered England.
We did? How did we do that? I go to bed in Southampton and now we're in Edinburgh?
You left the parking brake off.
why don't you bring USSA into comintern?
you could always let them take north and myabe even south america, then when peace is made, kick them out of comintern and take them on.
btw, what ever happened in australia and SE asia? india? i'm assuming your counquered them but i was too lazy to actually read most of the arr and just looked at the screenies.
great aar, it should be the oscAAR for best overall!!!
you could always let them take north and myabe even south america, then when peace is made, kick them out of comintern and take them on.
btw, what ever happened in australia and SE asia? india? i'm assuming your counquered them but i was too lazy to actually read most of the arr and just looked at the screenies.
great aar, it should be the oscAAR for best overall!!!
Hmm... a war between USSR and USSA.... Communist vs. Communist.... the ultimate battle between evil, and uh, um,..... more evil?
Mettermrck: Not one of the most glorious conquest, it seems. :rofl:
Dan Cook: Why? We must spread communism across the globe! Oh, wait.....
Churchill2004: I didn't bring the USSA into the war for a few reasons. First, I'm greedy and don't like to share. Second, it would bring the USSA into the war and kickstart its military production. Third, I can't kick members out of my alliance.
generalbob: More like a prolonged march across defenselss tracts of land.
--------------------------------------
September 22nd, 1943
In the conference room with all the principle commissars present, Stukov stared idly at his fingernails as they droned on.
To his right sat Azuren, paying more attention to Stukov than to the reports.
To his left sat Molotov, saying nothing and doing less. Stalin had picked him to do what he was told, not to think.
Two chairs down to his left, Uritsky had just finished his report on the usual suppression of any Soviet anti-war sentiment. Without looking up, Stukov spoke, "How are the people responding to the continued production quotas for the Patriotic War?"
Uritsky coughed, suprised Stukov had actually been listening, "They follow and obey as always. And even better, we've finally gotten the European industries under control."
Kaganovich added, "Each victory increases our industrial might. We have enough industry to not only meet the quotas, but to exceed them. Then more industry can be put into the peoples' needs, which makes them even more productive."
Stukov nodded, turning to Yan Berzin, the little used Commissar of Intelligence, "Comrade, what is the status of the Allied and USSA armies?"
Berzin, who had been looking at Azuren, stared at Stukov, "Approximately 180 Allied divisions. Most of them are militia quality at best. I'm pleased to report that Brazil now holds the second largest standing army now, beating out the British by one division."
"And the USSA?"
Berzin snorted, "Seven."
Stukov nodded thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair and staring at a spot on the ceiling. After a moment he spoke again, "What is the status of our naval construction?"
Nikolai Kuznetsov, the new Commissar of the Navy, ginned eagerly, "Comrade Stukov, I'm happy to say we can expect to have three new battleships, six pocket battleships, and 5 new destroyers within a year. Along with another three battleships in one and a half."
"Once plans are finished on the newest submarine designs, begin construction on several flotillas. There may still be a war going on by then," Stukov ordered.
Stukov glanced at the empty seats where Voroshilov and Shaposhnikov would normally have been. But with a war going on, they were doing something worthwhile.
Stukov rolled his neck, "Anyone know what's going on at the front with our esteemed army commissars absent?"
The men looked at each other.
Finally, Azuren spoke up, "General Konev reports that he will be at Scapa Flow by the 29th, finishing off the last Allied resistance in the British Isles. Our reinforced armies in Persia are finally advancing into India from the west, and Shaposhnikov is making steady progress from the east. Offensives into Indochina are underway, Jerusalem is ours, and our marines in the Kuril Islands are now able to initiate operations against the Pacific with the Royal Navy dispersed."
Stukov yawned, "So...."
"We're winning," she said.
Stukov laughed, "Like always. It seems nowadays we can't lose."
Middle East and Egypt
Burma and Eastern India
Afghanistan and Western India
Dan Cook: Why?
We must spread communism across the globe! Oh, wait..... Churchill2004: I didn't bring the USSA into the war for a few reasons. First, I'm greedy and don't like to share. Second, it would bring the USSA into the war and kickstart its military production. Third, I can't kick members out of my alliance.
generalbob: More like a prolonged march across defenselss tracts of land.
--------------------------------------
September 22nd, 1943
In the conference room with all the principle commissars present, Stukov stared idly at his fingernails as they droned on.
To his right sat Azuren, paying more attention to Stukov than to the reports.
To his left sat Molotov, saying nothing and doing less. Stalin had picked him to do what he was told, not to think.
Two chairs down to his left, Uritsky had just finished his report on the usual suppression of any Soviet anti-war sentiment. Without looking up, Stukov spoke, "How are the people responding to the continued production quotas for the Patriotic War?"
Uritsky coughed, suprised Stukov had actually been listening, "They follow and obey as always. And even better, we've finally gotten the European industries under control."
Kaganovich added, "Each victory increases our industrial might. We have enough industry to not only meet the quotas, but to exceed them. Then more industry can be put into the peoples' needs, which makes them even more productive."
Stukov nodded, turning to Yan Berzin, the little used Commissar of Intelligence, "Comrade, what is the status of the Allied and USSA armies?"
Berzin, who had been looking at Azuren, stared at Stukov, "Approximately 180 Allied divisions. Most of them are militia quality at best. I'm pleased to report that Brazil now holds the second largest standing army now, beating out the British by one division."
"And the USSA?"
Berzin snorted, "Seven."
Stukov nodded thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair and staring at a spot on the ceiling. After a moment he spoke again, "What is the status of our naval construction?"
Nikolai Kuznetsov, the new Commissar of the Navy, ginned eagerly, "Comrade Stukov, I'm happy to say we can expect to have three new battleships, six pocket battleships, and 5 new destroyers within a year. Along with another three battleships in one and a half."
"Once plans are finished on the newest submarine designs, begin construction on several flotillas. There may still be a war going on by then," Stukov ordered.
Stukov glanced at the empty seats where Voroshilov and Shaposhnikov would normally have been. But with a war going on, they were doing something worthwhile.
Stukov rolled his neck, "Anyone know what's going on at the front with our esteemed army commissars absent?"
The men looked at each other.
Finally, Azuren spoke up, "General Konev reports that he will be at Scapa Flow by the 29th, finishing off the last Allied resistance in the British Isles. Our reinforced armies in Persia are finally advancing into India from the west, and Shaposhnikov is making steady progress from the east. Offensives into Indochina are underway, Jerusalem is ours, and our marines in the Kuril Islands are now able to initiate operations against the Pacific with the Royal Navy dispersed."
Stukov yawned, "So...."
"We're winning," she said.
Stukov laughed, "Like always. It seems nowadays we can't lose."
Middle East and Egypt
Burma and Eastern India
Afghanistan and Western India
Seven divisions? Just enough to perform police duty during the Red Army's victory parade.
only 7? that seems unusual for USA, is the ai diffrent in a communist usa that would make them produce less? was it landon being elected? usually they build up a uge army and just park it in washington,dc. not deploying any new units anywhere, but to just not build them at all seems unusual.
Maybe it's because they aren't at war and have no prospects of joining the Allies since they're commie. :wacko:
I've just read this through in one. Very good. Nice to see a well written USSR AAR.
USA who builds nothing? I've always seen that huge army in DC and tons of airplanes scattered around their territory. Go ahead and declare war. Great update!
7? seven is the number, seven eleven, seven dwarf, seven capital sins, seven...
ehem... take a chance and annex Canada in order to storm DC and NY.
ehem... take a chance and annex Canada in order to storm DC and NY.