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Well...coz1 said:
Perhaps a friendship between nations, eventually...
Or perhaps less than friendship in a more immediate sense...
Renss
Actually... I'm glad you asked!Draco Rexus said:
I worked 12 hour shifts this weekend, overnight, and there was absolutely nothing to do but write, so...
I have about 2 weeks worth of updates, to be posted once every other day, ready to go. There's one more "establishing" scene, and then the war starts and everything else starts to get interesting.
And about two weeks from now, we have a sexy appearance, live and in person, from someone you know and love!
You'll see when I get there, but I had a lot of fun writing this one...Rensslaer
Excuse me while I wipe the drool from my chin as I eagerly await the happenings alluded to!
Do you really get paid?
So do they really pay you as a security guard? 12 hrs...anything get stolen?
I begin my service in security on wednesday. Unfortunately it means that I stand in a room of artwork from the middleages to the baroque so I probably won't have much time to write but I've already got some great pictures and ideas to help give some depth beyond the game to my AAR. Now if I could just get all this german down...
So do they really pay you as a security guard? 12 hrs...anything get stolen?
I begin my service in security on wednesday. Unfortunately it means that I stand in a room of artwork from the middleages to the baroque so I probably won't have much time to write but I've already got some great pictures and ideas to help give some depth beyond the game to my AAR. Now if I could just get all this german down...
Joachim Longanecker and Reuben von Riedesel strode purposefully through the dusty streets of Ghazzah, like most of the other foreign merchants and traders.
Glancing this way and that, inconspicuously, the two men gathered information on a great many things of potential use in the upcoming war without drawing too much attention to themselves. Egypt was not a closed society, but it was a foreign one, and it would be unwise for any foreign traveler to seem overly curious. Sightseeing was one thing. Examination quite another.
For the purposes of this operation, Longanecker, a former cavalry officer and now an agent in the Prussian secret service, served as a “native guide” of sorts. He had spent much of his youth in the Middle East. He knew the languages – all of them – the culture, and the land. Riedesel – an able officer, in his own element – was relegated to silent observation.
Though their cover identified them as representatives of a Russian trading house, any slip that revealed some connection to Prussia would prove very dangerous. Despite exhaustive briefings, Riedesel wouldn’t last a minute if anyone seriously tested his cultural awareness, or language skills.
Their mutual presence was necessary. While Longanecker would probably be close at hand during the war, it was Riedesel who would literally be at the right hand of the KronPrinz during the campaign. He was present to gain knowledge of what they would face on the ground so that Friedrich Wilhelm would be prepared and informed as the war progressed.
This was their final espionage mission of several, including to Alexandria and to Cairo itself. On this leg of the journey, they had to learn the composition of Egyptian armies along the Levantine coast, from Ghazzah to Bayrut. Any forces stationed there would be able to fall upon Prussian defenses in the Sinai. They had not yet heard anything to indicate the Egyptians were strong enough to force a breach.
“I notice a lot of Jews,” Riedesel mentioned, nodding in the direction of a bearded man in a black robe. “I thought they had mostly been thrown out of these regions, and settled in Europe.”
“Certainly,” Joachim said. “But they are coming back. Over the past few decades, there has been an increasing flow of Jewish pilgrims back to the Holy Land. As unwelcome as they are in most European cities, some of them believe they will fare better here.” He had studied the anthropology of the region many years ago, when he was expecting to become a professional archaeologist. His life had followed a different pattern, rather. But his knowledge remained expansive. “Even when I was last in Jerusalem, the Ottoman authorities believed Jews comprised about 40% of the city’s population. By now I have no doubt they are in the majority.”
“Fascinating!” Riedesel remarked with genuine interest. “The Bible predicts such a return, near to the End Times.”
Longanecker looked askance at Riedesel, withholding comment. He considered himself a man of reason, without much use for the Bible, besides as a historical artifact. Though, as he recalled his Biblical knowledge, he did recall such a prediction. Prophecies, Longanecker thought… Not much use for them did he have.
Even if this one did seem to have some bearing in reality. For now… No matter.
Glancing this way and that, inconspicuously, the two men gathered information on a great many things of potential use in the upcoming war without drawing too much attention to themselves. Egypt was not a closed society, but it was a foreign one, and it would be unwise for any foreign traveler to seem overly curious. Sightseeing was one thing. Examination quite another.
For the purposes of this operation, Longanecker, a former cavalry officer and now an agent in the Prussian secret service, served as a “native guide” of sorts. He had spent much of his youth in the Middle East. He knew the languages – all of them – the culture, and the land. Riedesel – an able officer, in his own element – was relegated to silent observation.
Though their cover identified them as representatives of a Russian trading house, any slip that revealed some connection to Prussia would prove very dangerous. Despite exhaustive briefings, Riedesel wouldn’t last a minute if anyone seriously tested his cultural awareness, or language skills.
Their mutual presence was necessary. While Longanecker would probably be close at hand during the war, it was Riedesel who would literally be at the right hand of the KronPrinz during the campaign. He was present to gain knowledge of what they would face on the ground so that Friedrich Wilhelm would be prepared and informed as the war progressed.
This was their final espionage mission of several, including to Alexandria and to Cairo itself. On this leg of the journey, they had to learn the composition of Egyptian armies along the Levantine coast, from Ghazzah to Bayrut. Any forces stationed there would be able to fall upon Prussian defenses in the Sinai. They had not yet heard anything to indicate the Egyptians were strong enough to force a breach.
“I notice a lot of Jews,” Riedesel mentioned, nodding in the direction of a bearded man in a black robe. “I thought they had mostly been thrown out of these regions, and settled in Europe.”
“Certainly,” Joachim said. “But they are coming back. Over the past few decades, there has been an increasing flow of Jewish pilgrims back to the Holy Land. As unwelcome as they are in most European cities, some of them believe they will fare better here.” He had studied the anthropology of the region many years ago, when he was expecting to become a professional archaeologist. His life had followed a different pattern, rather. But his knowledge remained expansive. “Even when I was last in Jerusalem, the Ottoman authorities believed Jews comprised about 40% of the city’s population. By now I have no doubt they are in the majority.”
“Fascinating!” Riedesel remarked with genuine interest. “The Bible predicts such a return, near to the End Times.”
Longanecker looked askance at Riedesel, withholding comment. He considered himself a man of reason, without much use for the Bible, besides as a historical artifact. Though, as he recalled his Biblical knowledge, he did recall such a prediction. Prophecies, Longanecker thought… Not much use for them did he have.
Even if this one did seem to have some bearing in reality. For now… No matter.
Heh! Considering where I was working that night, if anything had (or if anything does tonight), you'd be hearing about it on the Austrian news. Or in Japan or England or New York or Australia!N. A. Kireevski said:So do they really pay you as a security guard? 12 hrs...anything get stolen?
Thankfully, I am but a small cog in a large machine.... and they still let me write on my laptop!
Rensslaer
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Trying to catch up!
Well, hmmph. I guess that means I will have to read faster to try and catch up. I don't know where I am on the AAR pages but I am up to page 70 of my .doc files copied from the AAR (since I have to use the Uni computers which are not supposed to be used for "Privat Arbeit!") But judging from the other replys I have lots to look forward too!
Well, hmmph. I guess that means I will have to read faster to try and catch up. I don't know where I am on the AAR pages but I am up to page 70 of my .doc files copied from the AAR (since I have to use the Uni computers which are not supposed to be used for "Privat Arbeit!") But judging from the other replys I have lots to look forward too!
Dear Joachim might want to reconsider his consideration of
such an attitude usually comes back to bit oneself in the backside when something ugly rears its head at the most inopportune time, eh?
such an attitude usually comes back to bit oneself in the backside when something ugly rears its head at the most inopportune time, eh?
You know, Longanecker really has grown quite a lot since we first met him. That studious nature has paid off in many ways. Too bad that he has yet to realize that private goal of archeaologist, but at least he is being of service to his government.
And I hope you are not foreshadowing something awful about to happen in Egypt what with all this talk of the end times.
And I hope you are not foreshadowing something awful about to happen in Egypt what with all this talk of the end times.
Well... Predictions and prophecies can always be read many ways...coz1 said:And I hope you are not foreshadowing something awful about to happen in Egypt what with all this talk of the end times.
But I think I can predict with confidence that "the end times" in this game will come about 1920.
Rensslaer
... then again, maybe not!
The Second Prusso-Egyptian War had begun, and many young Prussian soldiers were eager to make a name for themselves and exact some degree of revenge for past Egyptian crimes – crimes that had, in fact, been committed before most of these men were born.
None were so eager as the 16-year-old Prince Wilhelm, everywhere seen resplendent in the uniform of a Prussian cavalry colonel, full with an eagle-embossed silver helmet, white riding gloves, flared canvas gauntlets and other ostentatious accoutrements.
Several divisions had already entered combat, across the battlefront. Two divisions under General Leo von Caprivi had just been placed ashore in the Egyptian desert, near Libyah, to harass the enemy hindquarters. As Prince Wilhelm’s military tutor, Caprivi had also been asked to provide hands-on instruction to his young student in what was expected to be a quiet front in the war.
Now that his soldiers were in place and deployed for action, Caprivi had taken the time to explain the dispositions, plans for attack, and other necessaries to Prince Wilhelm over a strategic map, spread out on a table in the sweltering command tent. “We will attack these positions tomorrow morning.”
Here at Caprivi’s headquarters, surrounded by military practicality, Prince Wilhelm didn’t seem to notice how out of place he looked in his flamboyant outfit. Heedless of any irony, the Prince said, “I should, of course, like to lead the charge at your side.”
Caprivi blinked twice, in startlement. “Your Highness?”
“I will soon be the KronPrinz,” Wilhelm reminded Caprivi, needlessly. “I cannot be ducking my responsibilities as a Prussian officer.”
“Your Highness, this is a corps command headquarters… It is not unusual for regimental colonels to lead charges, but not a general in command of a corps,” Caprivi explained with some degree of patience.
“Am I not a colonel?” Wilhelm pressed, unsure why his rights were being challenged. “Provide me with a regiment to command, then.”
“Your Highness,” Caprivi continued, with exquisite patience. “Yours, for now, is an honorary title bestowed to better reflect your prestige. You have not even received rigorous cavalry training yet. I must insist that you remain at the headquarters. Your safety is of the utmost importance to the Empire, and its continuance has been entrusted to my care and attention.”
“But Leo,” Wilhelm reasoned, “You, yourself, rode by my Father’s side – the Kaiser’s heir, himself – when he entered countless battles. Besides,” he strengthened his plea, “Every Hohenzollern in history has embraced danger at the very forefront of battle. I will not be the first exception!”
Caprivi exchanged bemused looks with his aide behind Wilhelm’s back. Words were unnecessary to convey their frustration. “Kapitan Ackerman, pull Colonel Kulig from his regiment and assign him to oversight here at Corps command. He will coordinate with me, and be my eyes and ears here. The Prince and I shall take command of his regiment for the assault.”
“Ja wohl, Herr General.”
Gazing at the map and slapping his riding gloves into his hands absently, Prince Wilhelm smiled with pride behind his hooked moustache. But it was only in anticipation of coming glory. No satisfaction could be gleaned from merely receiving what one expected.
None were so eager as the 16-year-old Prince Wilhelm, everywhere seen resplendent in the uniform of a Prussian cavalry colonel, full with an eagle-embossed silver helmet, white riding gloves, flared canvas gauntlets and other ostentatious accoutrements.
Several divisions had already entered combat, across the battlefront. Two divisions under General Leo von Caprivi had just been placed ashore in the Egyptian desert, near Libyah, to harass the enemy hindquarters. As Prince Wilhelm’s military tutor, Caprivi had also been asked to provide hands-on instruction to his young student in what was expected to be a quiet front in the war.
Now that his soldiers were in place and deployed for action, Caprivi had taken the time to explain the dispositions, plans for attack, and other necessaries to Prince Wilhelm over a strategic map, spread out on a table in the sweltering command tent. “We will attack these positions tomorrow morning.”
Here at Caprivi’s headquarters, surrounded by military practicality, Prince Wilhelm didn’t seem to notice how out of place he looked in his flamboyant outfit. Heedless of any irony, the Prince said, “I should, of course, like to lead the charge at your side.”
Caprivi blinked twice, in startlement. “Your Highness?”
“I will soon be the KronPrinz,” Wilhelm reminded Caprivi, needlessly. “I cannot be ducking my responsibilities as a Prussian officer.”
“Your Highness, this is a corps command headquarters… It is not unusual for regimental colonels to lead charges, but not a general in command of a corps,” Caprivi explained with some degree of patience.
“Am I not a colonel?” Wilhelm pressed, unsure why his rights were being challenged. “Provide me with a regiment to command, then.”
“Your Highness,” Caprivi continued, with exquisite patience. “Yours, for now, is an honorary title bestowed to better reflect your prestige. You have not even received rigorous cavalry training yet. I must insist that you remain at the headquarters. Your safety is of the utmost importance to the Empire, and its continuance has been entrusted to my care and attention.”
“But Leo,” Wilhelm reasoned, “You, yourself, rode by my Father’s side – the Kaiser’s heir, himself – when he entered countless battles. Besides,” he strengthened his plea, “Every Hohenzollern in history has embraced danger at the very forefront of battle. I will not be the first exception!”
Caprivi exchanged bemused looks with his aide behind Wilhelm’s back. Words were unnecessary to convey their frustration. “Kapitan Ackerman, pull Colonel Kulig from his regiment and assign him to oversight here at Corps command. He will coordinate with me, and be my eyes and ears here. The Prince and I shall take command of his regiment for the assault.”
“Ja wohl, Herr General.”
Gazing at the map and slapping his riding gloves into his hands absently, Prince Wilhelm smiled with pride behind his hooked moustache. But it was only in anticipation of coming glory. No satisfaction could be gleaned from merely receiving what one expected.
Rensslaer said:
Wilhelm sticks out "like a sore thumb" just waiting for a sharpshooters bullet?
:wacko: whatever? ? ? heir or not, at the front he should not be...even so, excellent update! ! !
I disagree with you about Willy being at the front, Ghostwriter. I think he needs to see the white elephant and here the bullets whizzing past his person to gather a little humility about himself, know what I mean?
Other than that, I whole-heartedly agree, excellent update!
Other than that, I whole-heartedly agree, excellent update!