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The mid-summer sun was just beginning to rise in the west over the airfield in East Prussia. It wasn't a particularly well-built airfield, what with dirt landing strips and hangars left over from the Great War. But that didn't mean that the Luftwaffe wanted people sneaking in, as the fence and guard towers attested to. Their patrols were routine, and all guards were equiped with modern rifles.
Yet somehow, a small group of men had snuck in anyway. Those men now lay prone behind some tall grass that hadn't been cut recently, plotting how to complete their mission. Captain Johann Holvaar (Jo-Ho, as he'd been inevitably nicknamed), an ambitious young Estonian Air Force officer, was their leader. He watched through binoculars as the Germans went about their routines as if nothing was wrong.
"Do you see the targets, sir?" asked Lt. Viktor Holvaar, second in command and the captain's kid brother.
"Sure do," Johann nodded, "Four of them, just like I.I.I. said there'd be."
"So what are we doing with them again, sir?" came a question from Albert Voss, whose bottle-cap lensed spectacles had earned him the nickname 'Bottle'. That and the time he'd gotten his tongue stuck in a soda bottle, anyway.
"We sneak over to them, get into the cockpits, and fly the planes back to Tallinn," Jo-ho explained with a sigh, this being the fifth time he'd explained the plan this morning.
"Won't we have to fuel them up, sir?" Pilot Officer August F. Rumm asked, clearly thinking the mission dubious.
"We'll find out," the captain responded, "We steal what we can, Rumm. That's the order straight from the top."
"Tomberg?" groaned his brother, "The inventor of the Possum Brigade?"
"That's right," Johann nodded, "Now, there's no krauts around right now, so let's move out! See you in Tallinn!"
With that, Captain Holvaar moved to a crouching position and began running (or close to it) towards the farthest fighter on the airfield. His brother and the other two pilots ran off for their own respective targets. General Tomberg had come to the conclusion that Estonia would have to acquire some planes to base an air force on. They didn't have any at home, and so had to get them from a neigbor; Germany had planes, but Estonia didn't have money to pay for them. Enter another hair-brained plot by Estonian intelligence.
Johann crossed the airstrip and reached the hangar, only to stop dead in his tracks when he heard two sets of jackboots pounding the ground behind him. He pressed himself up against the wall and watched with one eye as the Germans bore down on his position. He'd been caught! The captain was certain he'd die then and there, that this would be his final mission for Estonia. And then the Germans marched right on past. He'd been clearly in their line of sight, yet they hadn't even noticed him!
"Those are the worst guards ever," Johann smirked, then rushed inside to get his plane fired up.
Bizzarely enough, all the planes were fully fueled up too. Johann and his men had no trouble getting the aircraft working, though Jo-Ho was bewildered by the Germans' ineptitude. Still, the four aircraft they stole took off without the Luftwaffe noticing and headed northeast for Estonia. The greatest heist in Estonian history had just been pulled off!
When the aircraft landed, captain Holvaar went to the ground crew to explain what his men had discovered about their aircraft. What they had were two fighters, a twin-engined bomber, and a biplane. Good enough for now, but they'd need paint jobs to be incorporated into the Imperial Estonian Air Force.
"Which pilots will be flying which plane?" asked one of the crewmen.
"Hm... Jo-ho.... Ho..." Holvaar responded, pointing first to the two fighters, then to the bomber and biplane, adding, "And... eh... Bottle.... A.F. Rumm."
With that, the captain exchanged salutes and headed off to report to his commanding officer. The ground crew looked perplexed about the names, but went about it all the same. Captain Holvaar would later be perplexed as to why a Jolly Roger had been painted on the tails of each of the aircraft...
Jo-Ho, Ho... and... eh.. Bottle.. AF Rumm. The Air Pirates of the IEAF are born.
*******************
Takero I, Emperor of Estonia, Protector of Iceland and the Greater North European Co-prosperity Sphere, had noticed a strange tendency in the intelligence reports that reached his desk. Since his ascension to the throne, they'd been getting progressively more bizzare. First there was the Stalin pipe switch. Now, he was reading that the air force suddenly had four airplanes when before they'd had nothing.
He had to wonder where the airplanes had even come from. For a force that had once used 'We don't exist!' as a recruiting slogan, it was a strange change of pace. Takero hadn't ordered any airplanes to be built, as production was being focused on the Imperial Estonian Army and Navy. He certainly hadn't purchased any aircraft from another nation. Which meant.... he probably didn't want to know.
Besides, there were more pressing matters than the likelihood that the planes had been stolen. Estonia's Greater North European Co-Prosperity Sphere was nearing its completion. Or at least as much as you could complete without the Soviet Union declaring war on your butt. Latvia and Lithuania, however, remained out of Estonia's grasp. It was a tricky issue to get the pair of Baltic states to join the Empire, so Takero had ordered Foreign Minister Piip to come to his office.
Piip was there, seated across from the Emperor, looking over some papers in his usual folder. Takero tapped his fingers on the desktop again, waiting politely for Piip to finish going over his intelligence reports. He'd been waiting for ten minutes, and it didn't really seem like he was getting very far. In fact, Piip seemed if anything even more sucked in to his papers. Finally, Takero coughed politely, causing Piip to look up with a bizzarely aroused expression on his face. When Takero raised an eyebrow, the man's eyes went wide and he hurriedly shut the folder.
"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty?" asked the foreign minister.
"Minister Piip... nevermind," Takero began, about to ask about the expression but deciding not to, "The matter of the day is what to do about Latvia and Lithuania. As you know, they are part of the Greater North European Co-Prosperity Sphere, but yet they resist attempts to convince them of the benefits of joining it. Why is this?"
"I don't know, sir. To be honest, I thought the full-page ads we took out in their newspapers saying 'Join Estonia or Die, Pigs!' were very clear and convincing," Piip responded in honest confusion.
"You guys didn't
actually use that exact wording, did you?" the Emperor asked, but thought he already knew the answer.
"Yes we did," Piip nodded proudly, then asked, "Do you think that was a bad idea?"
"Most likely," Takero sighed, leaving it at that. He'd learned it wasn't worth arguing over the ineptitude of his minions' efforts. Instead, he tried to steer the discussion in a more constructive direction, "I think if it appeared they had a choice in the matter, it might be better for us all."
"How so?" Piip asked, scratching his head in bewilderment.
"We let them vote on it," Takero stated matter-of-factly.
"Vote? But why would they
choose to join us?" Piip blurted out.
"Three reasons, Piip. Number one, we'll make it clear that their nation is imperiled by neighbors all around - Russia, Poland, Germany. Joining with one is inevitable, and Estonia is the best choice of them all for everyone involved. Number two, we'll campaign on style, not substance. And thirdly," Takero answered decisively, then paused for effect before concluding, "We'll
cheat."
"Ah, very well then," Piip answered, "I'll attend to the business of helping them prepare for this 'election'."
Piip left, and Takero refocused on the progress reports that were next in his stack of files to look over. Slowly but surely the Imperial Estonian armed forces were expanding. Nowhere near the size of the perilous Red neighbor to the east, but far stronger than they'd been when he'd taken power. More infantry was being trained, but more importantly the fleet was growing in size. The IEN had recently commissioned its first submarines, which made Takero very happy. Until he noticed that their designation was 'Rustbucket' class. Sure enough, the pictures revealed delapitated looking submarines that he wasn't sure would survive underwater. The reports assured, though, that the next class - the 'Hünley' class would be state of the art, their design coming straight from America's navy. Judging by the picture, Takero wasn't so sure.
The IEN Rustbucket,
flagship of the Imperial Underseas Fleet.
A conceptual sketch of the Hünley-class hand-crank powered submarine.
In other news, the Imperial Estonian Army's R&D division had prepared a prototype of Estonia's first armor. This was quite exciting to the Emperor. At last, Estonia would have modern machines of war to hurl at the enemy and cause them to fear the might of the Empire! However, there was a flaw in the design: they were said to be highly flammable. Why? Because they were designed to be constructed of cardboard.
Pride of the IEA's armored vehicles.
Takero was about to go down to his army offices and kick some tail when the foreign minister rushed back in from the hallway. From the panicked look on his face, Takero could tell something serious had just occured. Maybe Latvia and Lithuania had joined forces and were on the march against Tallinn. Or the Soviet Union had decided to take away their conquests with its huge army. But the news that the foreign minister delivered was far more surprising, more bizzare than Takero had ever expected.
"Your Imperial Majesty," Piip announced, "King Goz I of Iceland has declared that he deserves a colony, and that colony is Ireland. As Ireland has not responded to his declaration, he has declared war upon them."
Takero was stunned for several seconds, then he composed himself and spoke the only words that seemed fitting for the occasion, "Oh crap."