Chapter 1: England Lives…and Marches On
Melanie yawned as yet another report came in from yet another department somewhere in her massive palace. She looked at the time on one of her monitors: 2:15 AM. No wonder her head was throbbing so much. All she wanted to do was to plop down on her bed next to her husband, but alas, that had to wait for only God knows how long. Totally exhausted and oblivious to her surroundings, she failed to notice a man walk by her team of guards in the hallway outside of her office and up the steps that led to the platform where her desk was.
“Who’s there?” She asked exhaustedly, realizing that someone was standing behind her. If her guards let him through, he had to be vetted.
“Mel, it’s 2:15. Come with me, you really need some sleep.”
“Oh Fletch,” Melanie uttered, placing her head on her desk in utter exhaustion, “I would love to, I really would, but there are so many conference calls that I need to make.”
“Love, when is the last time you had a day off?”
Melanie paused. “Fuck, I have no idea.”
“You can’t keep doing this to yourself. The kids miss you dearly. I miss you. I need you.”
“I miss you more Fletch, but Courtney will kill me if I ignore these tasks.”
“Fuck my mom,” Fletcher smiled, digging his hands into Melanie’s shoulders and beginning to massage them. Melanie practically yelped with pleasure as Fletcher rubbed her shoulders back and forth, letting the blood flow and removing all kinks and knots. Her messenger rang, but Melanie was far too engrossed to even hear it.
“You know Fletch,” she said as he winded down. “I should demote you from senior advisor to head massage therapist!” She smiled, her body feeling so much better than it did.
“I wouldn’t mind that at all my love. What are you reading anyways?”
“Ah, some bullshit from the frontier regions. The Cephevad Tribes have a large population of young males who want to prove themselves. They are launching raiding parties into our territory, so I’m just examining our defenses.”
“Very interesting,” he said jokingly.
“Alright senior advisor,” Melanie asked sarcastically, “what should I do?”
“I say you toss those reports into the trash and come with me to our bedroom. We can talk about something that you find interesting…like something historical.”
“Sounds good to me Fletch,” Melanie nodded as she locked up her computer monitors. All the conference calls would wait till the morning. She carefully tucked her seat under the desk, placed important documents in her bag, and closed a door on top of the platform. Walking down the stairs and into the hallway, her guards seamlessly went from guarding the entrance to walking in sync at her sides, blocking all directions from any sort of threat.
“I’ve been thinking Melanie, what if Germany won World War One?”
Melanie stopped, too tired to comprehend what he just asked. “What?”
“What if…”
“No, I heard you. That’s an insane proposition,” she said, continuing to walk down the empty and quiet halls of her palace. “Germany had absolutely no way of winning the war. None at all. They were outnumbered with no resources, blockaded from any shipments, and hemmed in on all sides by enemies. Where did you even get this idea?”
“Well, I’ve been playing a video game…”
“A video game? I thought I banned all of them for corrupting the youth.”
“I have my methods.”
“Which one?”
“A game called Hearts of Iron Four. Made over 200 years ago. There is a mod for it.”
“Mod?”
“A modification. An overhaul. It’s called Kaiserreich, basically a thought experiment on what would happen if Germany won the war. I’ve been playing some sessions in my free time when I’m not busy with anything. It’s quite enjoyable.”
“Fletcher,” Melanie said smartly as they reached their residence. “Look, such an idea is absolutely insane. There is absolutely no way that Germany could have won the war. None, zilch, nada.”
“I dunno, do you think there may be a universe out there where they did?”
“Nope. Come Fletcher. Let me shower. God I need to sleep.”
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The room was filled with absolute anticipation as the crowd eagerly awaited the speaker to come forth. The room, in Manchester England, was absolutely filled to the brim with people, and the atmosphere was absolutely electric. People were waving flags, shouting slogans, and jumping up and down. Suddenly, the crowd roared. A man, flanked on all sides by well decorated soldiers, began to march down the alley in the center of the room, not paying attention to the adoring fans all around them The crowd erupted into an absolute frenzy of excitement as he walked onto the stage. His presence was all-encompassing as he stood there silently, soaking in the energy of the crowd; indeed, all he had to was raise a finger, and the crowd became silent. He was in control. It was his destiny. The stage was draped with red and white flags.
The room became silent. You could hear a pin drop. Nobody dared to breathe. Suddenly, when the room was totally engrossed, he began.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he started, silently. “This great meeting, is gathered here tonight, to here the policy and face of Maximism.” He paused again.
“If you think the present system of things can really see you see through, then its idle for our new and virile face of Maximism, I come to you with a new and revolutionary conception of politics, of economics, and of life itself! Indeed, I have another doctrine to put before you, one that will finally be able to destroy our two great enemies, one of which lies across the waters on the continent and the other in the new world.”
The crowd clapped. He sensed their energy: it was time to bring the energy.
“For too long we have suffered from idle words and false promises. The men of the revolution promised us the world, but what have they given us? Dirt and ashes! While our enemies gather in strength and numbers, building for the inevitable conflict that WILL happen, a conflict that they will start to destroy us, our people bicker over meaningless details and idle worlds. How do we expect to fight our foes if we cannot even agree on how to run our government?! How do we expect to survive the great crusade that will come? How?! England is dead under this current system!”
“And now, at long last, our men of the war, our men of 1914, the grim ranks of our ex-service men, again and again betrayed by politicians.” He said, gradually increasing his volume. “They join hands with the NEW YOUTH! The new generation! Which remembers the mighty past! Together, we say that England is not dead! We say, and I ask you to say with us, lift up your voices in this great meeting in the heart of England! Send to the whole world, a message: ENGLAND LIVES AND MARCHES ON!!!”
“Mosely! Mosely! Mosely!” The crowd began to chant loudly. He smiled, raising both of hands into the air and breathing in deeply, taking in the electric energy of the room. Next to him, his friend Eric was cheering louder than anyone.
Oswald Mosely would rule England. He was destined to save it…at any cost.
(Oswald Mosley speaking in Manchester, 1935)
Melanie yawned as yet another report came in from yet another department somewhere in her massive palace. She looked at the time on one of her monitors: 2:15 AM. No wonder her head was throbbing so much. All she wanted to do was to plop down on her bed next to her husband, but alas, that had to wait for only God knows how long. Totally exhausted and oblivious to her surroundings, she failed to notice a man walk by her team of guards in the hallway outside of her office and up the steps that led to the platform where her desk was.
“Who’s there?” She asked exhaustedly, realizing that someone was standing behind her. If her guards let him through, he had to be vetted.
“Mel, it’s 2:15. Come with me, you really need some sleep.”
“Oh Fletch,” Melanie uttered, placing her head on her desk in utter exhaustion, “I would love to, I really would, but there are so many conference calls that I need to make.”
“Love, when is the last time you had a day off?”
Melanie paused. “Fuck, I have no idea.”
“You can’t keep doing this to yourself. The kids miss you dearly. I miss you. I need you.”
“I miss you more Fletch, but Courtney will kill me if I ignore these tasks.”
“Fuck my mom,” Fletcher smiled, digging his hands into Melanie’s shoulders and beginning to massage them. Melanie practically yelped with pleasure as Fletcher rubbed her shoulders back and forth, letting the blood flow and removing all kinks and knots. Her messenger rang, but Melanie was far too engrossed to even hear it.
“You know Fletch,” she said as he winded down. “I should demote you from senior advisor to head massage therapist!” She smiled, her body feeling so much better than it did.
“I wouldn’t mind that at all my love. What are you reading anyways?”
“Ah, some bullshit from the frontier regions. The Cephevad Tribes have a large population of young males who want to prove themselves. They are launching raiding parties into our territory, so I’m just examining our defenses.”
“Very interesting,” he said jokingly.
“Alright senior advisor,” Melanie asked sarcastically, “what should I do?”
“I say you toss those reports into the trash and come with me to our bedroom. We can talk about something that you find interesting…like something historical.”
“Sounds good to me Fletch,” Melanie nodded as she locked up her computer monitors. All the conference calls would wait till the morning. She carefully tucked her seat under the desk, placed important documents in her bag, and closed a door on top of the platform. Walking down the stairs and into the hallway, her guards seamlessly went from guarding the entrance to walking in sync at her sides, blocking all directions from any sort of threat.
“I’ve been thinking Melanie, what if Germany won World War One?”
Melanie stopped, too tired to comprehend what he just asked. “What?”
“What if…”
“No, I heard you. That’s an insane proposition,” she said, continuing to walk down the empty and quiet halls of her palace. “Germany had absolutely no way of winning the war. None at all. They were outnumbered with no resources, blockaded from any shipments, and hemmed in on all sides by enemies. Where did you even get this idea?”
“Well, I’ve been playing a video game…”
“A video game? I thought I banned all of them for corrupting the youth.”
“I have my methods.”
“Which one?”
“A game called Hearts of Iron Four. Made over 200 years ago. There is a mod for it.”
“Mod?”
“A modification. An overhaul. It’s called Kaiserreich, basically a thought experiment on what would happen if Germany won the war. I’ve been playing some sessions in my free time when I’m not busy with anything. It’s quite enjoyable.”
“Fletcher,” Melanie said smartly as they reached their residence. “Look, such an idea is absolutely insane. There is absolutely no way that Germany could have won the war. None, zilch, nada.”
“I dunno, do you think there may be a universe out there where they did?”
“Nope. Come Fletcher. Let me shower. God I need to sleep.”
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The room was filled with absolute anticipation as the crowd eagerly awaited the speaker to come forth. The room, in Manchester England, was absolutely filled to the brim with people, and the atmosphere was absolutely electric. People were waving flags, shouting slogans, and jumping up and down. Suddenly, the crowd roared. A man, flanked on all sides by well decorated soldiers, began to march down the alley in the center of the room, not paying attention to the adoring fans all around them The crowd erupted into an absolute frenzy of excitement as he walked onto the stage. His presence was all-encompassing as he stood there silently, soaking in the energy of the crowd; indeed, all he had to was raise a finger, and the crowd became silent. He was in control. It was his destiny. The stage was draped with red and white flags.
The room became silent. You could hear a pin drop. Nobody dared to breathe. Suddenly, when the room was totally engrossed, he began.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he started, silently. “This great meeting, is gathered here tonight, to here the policy and face of Maximism.” He paused again.
“If you think the present system of things can really see you see through, then its idle for our new and virile face of Maximism, I come to you with a new and revolutionary conception of politics, of economics, and of life itself! Indeed, I have another doctrine to put before you, one that will finally be able to destroy our two great enemies, one of which lies across the waters on the continent and the other in the new world.”
The crowd clapped. He sensed their energy: it was time to bring the energy.
“For too long we have suffered from idle words and false promises. The men of the revolution promised us the world, but what have they given us? Dirt and ashes! While our enemies gather in strength and numbers, building for the inevitable conflict that WILL happen, a conflict that they will start to destroy us, our people bicker over meaningless details and idle worlds. How do we expect to fight our foes if we cannot even agree on how to run our government?! How do we expect to survive the great crusade that will come? How?! England is dead under this current system!”
“And now, at long last, our men of the war, our men of 1914, the grim ranks of our ex-service men, again and again betrayed by politicians.” He said, gradually increasing his volume. “They join hands with the NEW YOUTH! The new generation! Which remembers the mighty past! Together, we say that England is not dead! We say, and I ask you to say with us, lift up your voices in this great meeting in the heart of England! Send to the whole world, a message: ENGLAND LIVES AND MARCHES ON!!!”
“Mosely! Mosely! Mosely!” The crowd began to chant loudly. He smiled, raising both of hands into the air and breathing in deeply, taking in the electric energy of the room. Next to him, his friend Eric was cheering louder than anyone.
Oswald Mosely would rule England. He was destined to save it…at any cost.
(Oswald Mosley speaking in Manchester, 1935)
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