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Lt.-Colonel of Guerillas
Jul 14, 2003
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The year is 1939.

An Austrian upstart has grabbed control of Germany and is prepairing to steamroll Europe. It is a time of turmoil and....... Wait a minute. I am not the one going to write this story. You are!

First prize: a HOI3 hardcopy signed by the entire development team!
(yes, the winner will be the proud owner of Johan’s autograph on the sleeve of his HOI3 copy)

Four runner-up prizes: Gamersgate download version of HOI3

So, sharpen your quills, write like you never did before and be prepared to cancel your HOI3 pre-order!

Contest timetable

~ The deadline for the contest is July 5th. You will be able to post and edit your submission into the main Contest-thread (AARland main forum). July 5th 24:00 GMT the thread will be locked and the voting will start early the subsequent morning.

~ The voting will take place in the AARland main forum from July 5th. Everyone is allowed to pick his favorite three stories and cast their votes.
You will be able to choose a maximum of three stories* The first round of voting will close on the 24th of July.

~ A second round will be held from the 25th to the 30th of July. In a poll you will vote your favorite from a top five and decide who will get the much prized signed copy of HOI3. The five winners will have a weeks time to cancel their pre-order of HOI3.

~ The final winner will be announced and his story will be published in its full glory in the August edition of the AARlander.
* No extra weight can be added to a vote by voting for a single story. The order of voting doesn’t matter and you are not allowed to vote for the same story two or three times.

Contest rules

The rules are simple:
~ Look at the screenshots supplied below. Write your own story based on these screenshots (you don’t have to use all of them and are allowed to use any other HOI3 screenshots or grapics or edit the supplied screenshot in whichever way you think best).
You can write about the events leading upto the events depicted, the events of these screens or the events which followed. Don't worry about niggling details, worry about writing a good story. Let your imagination run wild!

~ Use between 500 and 1500 words and let your creativity and writing skills go wild!

~ Post your submission in this thread (AARland main forum) before July 5th 24:00 GMT.

~ You are allowed to edit the story as many times as you like before July 5th 24:00 GMT.

~ You are only allowed to enter the contest with ONE AAR.

~ Since it will be done through free voting, everyone, including contest staff, moderators, etc are all eligible to join the contest and vote.

~ A writer is NOT allowed to vote for his own story.

~ Advertising your story is only allowed in the main commets thread (do NOT make any new threads or post in other threads about your entry).
When telling us about your AAR DO NOT SPAM . Use common sense and NO BIG FONTS .
You are FREE to use IMAGES as ways of telling us that your AAR entry is there but use common sense in those images and DO NOT spam us with images . Use ONE image as a main title image if you want to tell us about your AAR in here and try to limit the number of SMALLER images in this thread.
Inkwell and signature are fine as long as they follow forum rules

~ The five winners of the first round of voting will have to supply their email and home-adress between the 25th of July and August 3rd by PM to either Singleton Mosby or canonized. Paradox will ship the prizes on August 4th.

Please don’t discuss the contest, it’s rules or the screenshots in this thread! For comments and speculations we would like to refer you here.

If you have any questions please feel free to contact Singleton Mosby or canonized. We'd like to thank Johan, Susana and the entire Paradox staff for allowing us to run this contest and for graciously supplying the prizes, their time, and for making such great games. Thank you also to TRP for creating our cover.

The Screenshots





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Hope is not lost...

Here we go... I'll fail but oh well, it's worth a shot.
"Greetings Gentlemen. Thanks for coming so urgently, but Germany has declared war on us. We must combat them as soon as possible and stop them so the allies can bring reinforcements before it's too late.

As you can see in picture one, Germany has a big nation. We have a fragile position, in-between the USSR and Germany. However, we can concentrate on the German front as the Russian's won't invade. We can be sure of that.

So now, we move on to picture two, our cabinet. We need to remove our head of government, though that will be hard, so we will have to live with it. His tendency to drift means his stance on the armed forces could change at any moment.

Our nation has a good industry, and a good army, all volunteers. We have a good education system, and with 47 industrial areas online, we can afford many new units over time.

Onto Warsaw HQ, where the Chief of Staff shall take you through the information available."

"Thanks Mr Beck. General Kasprzycki will take charge of this unit, which has many other units under it's command. It shall be decisive in deciding battles, as orders and supplies are better processed with an HQ in the area.

Sorry sir, what was that? We are under attack? Where? Poznan? Ah, here's the report. Thank you very much.

Ah. You can see it here. We have 4 forntline infantry diviosn in place, whereas they have two infantry divisions plus a panzer division! They also have another infantry division plus an HQ area in reserve. We have an HQ in the area plus two cavalry divisions ready for any breakthroughs.

Jablonka is also under attack! They have over 50,000 men against our 12,000. It is unlikely we shall win, but we can try and hold on. We must hold on to any ground we can. However, they are wasting 3 HQs in the attack, whereas we have one to help our soldiers out. We need to press home advantages in areas with no HQ. That will be all. Dismissed!"


Ah, hell. Not even 500 words, yet maybe I'll win the fourth runner-up. Heh heh.
So, here goes-
The year was 1939, cold morning of September first. I, as an observer of the war, shall bring you messages about what happened this day.

Poland. The country which brought itself in many conflicts in the inter-war years, is now under full attack by the Nazi invaders, led by an Austrian leader.
To say their economical status was not too great - 25 governmental factories, pulling out as much equipment as 47 could, get 12 of them wasted in corruption. Their resources stockpile can last them for at least 2 years if another WWI happens on this front, yet that isn't likely.
About their status on the map, to be honest, they aren't able to defend the northern part of Poland as hard as their could. That is simply impossible, with the Free city of Danzig clustered between Prussia and Germany proper, yet the thing amusing me is that Poland took Latvia in the Polish-Latvian war of 1937. This is the only area Poland can defend, since Germany isn't capable of amphibious assaults and the border is too small to attack with heavy forces. Hopefully, on the path of land between Lithuania and Soviet Russia, there are fortifications.

Honestly, I can't comment on this picture, since the one I give you shows it all. The entire government, the popularity of various parties. (Outside note - good job on getting all of this together) I'll skip this area.

What we have here is a humble description of Poland's military leaders and the headquarters in the capital city of Warszawa. Two headquarters are here, one of them commanded by Sosnkowski and commanding the Prussian frontier, while the HQ division Armia Modlin commanded by Orlik-Rueckemann controls the situation on the southern part of the German frontier. This one is pretty interesing - they let divisions actually pick their own army leader. The entire division has no leader yet, that is to be solved soon, or else.

And it has started. Under the disguise of the Polish attack on a German radio tower, Germans began assaulting the border city of Poznań. It looks that the attack will fail, with three German divisions attacking four Polish ones.
Looking at the reserves, I can't see the change coming too - two Polish cavalry divisions helped by the headquarters Armia Poznań (de facto), while Germans have one HQ division and one infantry division in reserve. This battle is lost for Germans, unless they bring additional forces.

This is the last thing I bring you, what I personally stole from one of the Polish Prime Minister's now huge report list. It's the one of the attacks, Germans attacking with three infantry divisions, one mountain division and three HQ's, three HQ's indeed. Crazy. The Polish defend with one mountain division and one HQ division. 17 brigades in 8 units, 51 thousand effective soldiers versus 4 brigades in 2 units, totalling 12 thousand soldiers.
That battle is lost, yet we might have not seen the last from Poland. Or will this war be an easy victory for Germany? Time will tell.


Sept 1, 1939 8am, Near Poznań, Poland

With a smooth and steady rhythm the cards slid over each other in a shuffling motion. Brother lost brother and families were torn apart. They were separated, partitioned as if they were discarded refuse, placed next to strangers without a second of hesitation. No one knew when the next time they would rise – or fall. They themselves were treated roughly and their sides, which had long held, gave way, splintering in many directions. Their dirty dress never again to be washed and cleaned, as they once were; an eternity ago.

The shuffler didn’t notice and if he did, he wouldn’t care. They were just a pack of cards he bought one time when he was off duty. The cards were cheap and worn, but still useable. Like the men under his command, the colonel thought bitterly. Still, he continued to shuffle in the near pitch black room constructed out of concrete. Only a small glint of light flickered from the dangling light bulb, barely illuminating the plain desk that supported a map of Poland, or a map that will soon see Poland wiped out.


The Polish colonel absentmindedly dealt himself a hand while staring at the map. What he saw didn’t give him hope, in fact, everything he had heard, seen, or even smelled didn’t bode goodwill to Poland. If truth be told, when he was notified at 1am in the morning of Germany’s aggression he knew his country wouldn’t survive the year. He looked at it in almost a sardonic way and imagined a few news headlines. “Poland betrayed by Allies.” Indeed the country did feel safe after the British guarantee had been made, but they were wrong. Dead wrong.

Above him, and above ground, vibrations could be detected; no doubt the enemy was advancing. The lifeless lamp swaggered and flickered under the strain, and a slight crumbling of the walls ensued. The colonel knew he would have to leave now if he wanted to get out alive, but then again, he hadn’t finished his card game. A person once told him the most trivial activities had the most profound consequences, so the man carried on with his game.

Strangely he was calm as he placed another card, queen of hearts, beside the deck. He could imagine young Polish boys dashing over top of him taking up defensive positions waiting for the imminent slaughter. Adrenaline would be in their hearts and sweat in their eyes, a gun poised towards the Germans. Artillery would tear up the ground beside them as they struggled for their lives. A sky filled with German bombers would strike fear into all the regiments if it had not already been accomplished by the oncoming tanks. The colonel mockingly reflected how many a mother wouldn’t see their most beloved child after today. When it was sometimes 50 thousand Germans against 12 thousand Poles that could do that to a man.

A telephone rang, obviously for the colonel. He begrudgingly bent down and picked up the receiver. On the other end was a distressed voice.

“Colonel Kleeberg, this is Chief of Staff Edward Rydz-Smigly, we have word that the Germans are closing in on Poznań, and you aren’t there leading your men. We need you on front before the entire Polish army disappears.”


As soon as the voice had arrived, it left, demanding obedience. The colonel looked at the receiver longingly. The man on the other side was bound to be safe as he had achieved such a rank, but for the colonel and his men, mercy would be hard to come by. He set the receiver down gently and looked at his cards.

A sharp noise followed by an explosion caught the man’s ear. This time the entire room shook, something had happened above ground. The thin wire holding the light snapped and fell unto the desk, rupturing into countless shreds of glass, scattering everywhere. Darkness blanketed the room in a heartbeat, leaving the colonel blind. With a soft curse he rummaged his hand over the broken fragments trying to find the last card to finish his card game. As he stood up from the desk slowly, as not to disturb the map, his hand found the deck. In a fell swoop, he flipped up one last card, but it was of no use. He couldn’t see the cards.

The colonel left cursing, trying to navigate himself through the room using his hands. As fate would have it though, he wouldn’t see the next sunrise. The King of Spades, as if predicting the future, sat face up on the desk.

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A perfect morning

"You are joking. Surely you are joking."
Stanisław Swirski watched his two years younger brother Kazimierz with arched eyebrows, trying to tell whether he was telling the truth or making another of his, in his opinion, childish jests.
The thirteen year old giggled and turned away.
"Come and see for yourself!»
Stanisław sighed and followed slowly after, rolling his eyes and mumbling something undecipherable. He had more important things to do. He was too old for such games. Soldiers in the woods... Bah! The Germans had been acting up the last few years, sure, but surely their father would have told them if there any imminent danger! On the other hand, he hadn't seen much of him lately. Not after the fight he and mum had a week ago.

He could remember it well. Distant voices, louder and louder. Father's voice suddenly high and clear. Something about enough being enough. Mum saying something. Then, a few minutes later, she had come into the room, telling him and Kazimierz to get dressed. Grown-ups... Always treating him like a child! Especially mum! But father was busy in his job as Chief of the Navy, so it probably was better that he had went with mum to the holiday resort outside Poznań.

Besides, there he would have the chance to meet Marita again... Stanisław's eyes became dreamy. Oh, what a girl... Nothing like anyone he had met before. Sweet, daring... The things she probably could do! Oh, he had heard things about the country girls! Last summer, he had courted her all through the stay, he even had got a kiss. This time, Stanisław decided for himself, it would come to more. Oh, what pleasures she surely could....

Startled, Stanisław literally jumped when his brother called out for him.
“Yeah, yeah... I'm coming Kazimierz!”
Great, he though angrily, of all times to wake me up from a dream....
He stopped. They had come a long way into the woods. He hadn't noticed it before now, his mind having been away.
“Hush!” his brother whispered.
And there he heard it too. Far away...was it singing? Suddenly he felt panic rushing through his spine. Could it be....? No, it couldn't... Father surely would have sent for them if the Germans were coming! But yet, was it not German voices he heard? Thinking of it, mum had departed with them soon after the argument. What if she hadn't told father where they were?
“Kazimierz! We need to go! Now! he whispered in a strained voice.
“But this is exciting!” his brother muttered sourly.
“Kazimierz... This is dangerous! We...”

The bang was deafening. Stanisław barely had time to throw himself over his younger brother and lay down before all hell went loose. Gunshots crackled all around them, screams in pain. Stanisław suddenly realized it was him screaming. He looked aghast at what had been his left hand. Blood, pain. And then the world got all blacked out.

It had seemed like a perfect morning. No such morning was to come again for a long time.

"[...] Jetzt wird Bombe mit Bombe vergolten!"

Adolf Hitler, the Dictator of Germany wanted War. Now he got it. Poland shall be incorporated into Germany.

But how could this happen?

It was January 1933 as Adolf Hitler became Reichschancellor of Germany. He quickly banned all political parties and took complete control in 1934, after the Death of Reichspräsident von Hindenburg.

Politcal and Economic reforms changed Germany into a prosperous Nation, but Hitler wanted more.

In Spring 1938, with the help from Germany, the National-Socialists became the ruling Party in Austria. After a massive Propaganda Campaign, Austria became part of Germany. The Allies didn´t do anything.

The next step was Czechoslovakia. Pro-German elements in Czechoslovakia managed to break the Nation apart. First the Sudetencrisis, then the Rest.
Hitler promised the Allies that his territorial Expansion are now satisfied

A few days ago, Germany and the Soviet Union signed a Non-Agression-Pact which says, that Poland will be partitioned between these states in case of a War between Germany and Poland.
Poland, a nation which ceased to exists at the End of the 18th Century, after it was Partitioned 3 times. And now, the same fate waits for Poland again, fighting for their Independence after WW1.

The Polish government was shocked. Poland was now at War with Germany.
It was clear, that Poland would be the next Victim of german Expansionism. First the "Anschluss" of Austria, then Czechoslovakia.

This time, though, it will Fight and not alone! On March 30th 1939, United Kingdom guaranteed the Independence of Poland and promised to support them, in case of a War.
The Government was prepared. They issued a General Mobilisation weeks ago and the Industry was also prepared for War.

But it was clear in the minds of the Polish people, that Poland can´t face an enemy, which is far more superior in Technology and Military. But their will to fight is enormous.
The Army showed the Government a Document about the current state of the Army. There were many Generals and Field-Marshals, which fought already in the Polish-Soviet War. These Men shall lead the Armies, which will face the german Goliath with his Tanks.

Will Poland survive the War?

Only time can tell...
It had come to this.

You could blame the politicians, the workers, the Versailles Treaty or something completely different.
It didnt change the fact that Lieutenant Onyszack and his men were to be among the first to fight in this new War to end all Wars. Wasnt that what they had called the last one? Onyszack laughed, attracting the attention of a couple of soldiers near him. They had been wrong. The war hadnt finished all conflicts. In fact, it could be argued that it had fueled the fire of this one.


The Generals and Politicians all knew that the germans were coming. They prepared tactics that had worked the last war. All the soldiers on the ground knew that they wouldnt work this time.
It was typical, the people who might have found a way to stop this were a generation too late.
If this war had waited for 10 years, then wiser men would have replaced the old and fat officers and state leaders. The ones who were still caught in a web of tradition and grudges.
They had remained silent as Hitler rose to power, silent as the Germans showed the fruits of mobile warfare, silent as the Germans grew more belligerent each day, each hour, each minute.

The Lieutenant was ripped out of his thoughts by the wild september wind.
And it wasnt the cold it brought that had awoken Onyszack, it was the sounds.

Artillery shells, airplanes and rifle fire. The sounds of battle. Onyszack had a feeling that it would be the sounds that would echo around the world from this moment. The young lieutenant grabbed his rifles and stood up. His men were cold and scared. With good reason, the first shouts in german could now be heard in the woods not far ahead. The sound of the invaders.


According to intelligence they would be facing nearly 4 times their own number. The enemy would have more support, better equipped and be superior trained.

It was now certain that Onyszack wouldnt live to share his doubts about the world situation and the events leading to this war. But such was the life of a soldier, condemned to being ordered around and not sharing his views. To his superiors he was a number, in an endless list of casulties for this day.
Onyszack spotted the first silhuettes on the horizon. His rifle aimed steady, all doubt and thoughts from earlier were now gone. This was what he had been trained to do. The German soldier was being careful, making sure to check his sorroundings, his comrades acted the same way. Onyszack and his men would give them a reason to be careful. And like that, the polish platoon opened fire. The following engagement saw the entire Polish unit annihilated, with the germans loosing significant numbers. A month ago, the number of killed would have been shocking to the public. 5 years later, they would be microscopic compared to what would be the bloddiest war in human history.


Deafening silence.

There were no birds singing in the trees; everything that had remained above ground had died or fled long ago. They were left bare of leaves, their skeletal branches clawing up at the sky like the carcasses of so many butchered animals. Even grass had been eradicated, the cratered earth forming a lifeless moonscape of mud and clay. A faded snapshot of explosive carnage.

It was the total silence that frightened me more than anything.

More than the sprint across open ground with the pounding of my heart pulsing in my head. The thin line of vegetation in the far distance was safety, the plants and shrubbery concealing the enemy who would only be revealed in a bright muzzle flash as they tried to stop our assault. It was the safety of a probable death amongst the trees rather than a certain one in the open plain.

More than the frenzied melee amongst the tree line as the soldiers has fought for inches of dirt, using spades and bayonets to slash and stab in the flickering light beneath the green canopy. I had screamed as I took my first life, a cry of hate and fear and shame and terror that served to mask the sickening crunch of pulped flesh and shattered bone. I raised up my helmet like a supplication to an ancient god, a promise of bloody sacrifice, before I brought it down with all my might to crush the soldier’s skull.

Even more than the hours spent huddled in a shallow foxhole, the earth roaring around me as their artillery targeted our location. I screamed then as well, though my voice gave out long before the bombardment did. I was certain that each deafening blast was a little closer than the last, the explosions toying with me like a cat with a captive mouse. They circled my little sanctuary of soft dirt time and time again, booming detonations cruel laughter at the young boy that was off playing war.

It was more frightening than that feeling of helplessness, that knowledge that your life, your very existence, was now being decided by the degree of elevation in a gun barrel or the slightest changes in the wind pattern. The aerodynamics of an artillery shell were more important than martial skill or physical abilities. I was worthless to protect even my own life; how could I hope to protect my country? My family?

I had prayed then for the noise to stop, trying to speak to god over the cacophony of raining death. Even after my mouth was filled with the copper taste of blood from my abused throat prayed feverishly. Each fountain of fire and dirt was a physical impact than pushed my body far past its limits. I couldn’t even think. I needed the sound to stop. Oh please for the love of god stop the noise please stop the noise I can’t t-

And then there was silence.

I had thought it was a miracle at first. I had felt a pressure wave slam into with enough force to drive the breath from my lungs as pure white light had filled my vision. There had been a moment of searing pain before I felt absolutely weightless, my cheeks stained with tears of joy at my salvation.


When I awoke I found myself half buried under loose soil and small rocks, my entire body shrieking in agony from the all encompassing pain. Yet how could I not be relieved when I had been saved from the horrible sounds of imminent death? One of my eyes was caked with dried blood and dirt, but I could see that I was lying in a small crater looking up at a crystal clear blue sky, color seeming to fill my world once again.

And life was returning as well. With my good eye I could barely make out the distant black shapes of birds, their wings spread as they slowly circled the field. I had strained to hear the birds singing again, a tentative smile on my swollen lips as I tried to catch their beautiful song.


‘I must be too far away’ I told myself after a moment, instead switching to the sound of the breeze blowing over the ground, watching a thing strip of fabric flutter from one of the dead trees with complete concentration.


‘It must be a weak wind’ I reassured myself, knowing that once I could get out of this hole I would be fine. I tried to shout for help through my raw and bloody throat, but even the faint whisper through my lips was inaudible.

I must have fallen sleep again, for when I opened my eyes I saw two of my comrades above me, hands filled with bandages as they tended to my wounds. I forced out my heartfelt thanks, each word like a razor blade sliding down my throat. I asked them their names, promising them I would always remember my saviors.

One of them looked into my eyes and mouthed something, not making a sound. His eyes were filled with sad kindness as he spoke to me without saying a word. As they lifted me onto the stretcher I could see and feel our panzers moving up towards the enemies’ lines, their black exhaust fading into the azure sky like they were never there.


It never stops, the silence. It is louder than any noise or sound. It’s louder than the beating heart and terror of uncertain safety. It’s louder than the crunch of the killed and screams of the killers. It is louder even than death by chance, where the insignificant die without any hope to matter. The silence devours them all.

It frightens me more than anything.
Begining of Hell: 1939

Many historians look back on history, and wonder how it was that the events leading up to September 1st, 1939 were not stopped by those who were meant to be ever vigilant of the activities of Germany. What many historians forget to remember is the mindset of the populations of England, France, and the rest of Europe. They did not wish to see more war, never wanted to see their loved ones die, and watch a whole new generation of young men go off and fight in the dogs of war.

But instead, they hemmed and hawwed as they watched German troops entering the Rhineland, the crowds cheering as they welcomed their own countries troops back for the first time since the signing of Versailles.

They stalled when Hitler sent the Wermacht across the Austrian border, annexing their cousins and bringing further strength to the Greater Reich.

And before September 1st, 1939, Czechoslovakia was the last nation to fall peacefully to the hands of the Nazis. Still the Allies made no move to stop Germany, hoping beyond hope that War would indeed be avoided. They ignored the few who saw the truth, who saw Hitler and his cronies for their real intentions.

And because of this, for seven long, bloody years, a whole new generation marched off to the dogs of war, and their deaths....

Begining of Hell:


Day of hell, Polish-German Border

Ignacy Moscicki listened with only a tiny bit of his mind focused on what his generals were saying. Word was already arriving of the German panzers rolling across the border.... he was already falling into shock, realizing what had happened to Poland and the world. Realizing, that in a short time, Poland would once again be no more.

The Allies were only now declaring war on Germany, but they would not arrive in time. It was up to all of Polands military to stop the German hordes, but he knew this would be impossible.

Grzegorz had been giving him intelligence reports on the movement of German troops for the last month, and he had even been able to give him the makeup of some of their forces. Looking at it, he had prayed it would not come down to a fight. The Germans outnumbered, outgunned, and outteched the Polish Army.

"Sir?" he was brought out of his downward spiral by one of the generals, Kasprzycki. He turned his eyes, which had lost whatever sparkle they might have had, to gaze upon him. "Sorry, I was thinking about something. Please repeat?"

The general looked upon the nations leader, and felt his heart breaking. When Poland had been liberated from the Germans, Russians, and the Habsburgs, he had had so many hopes for his people. But know, looking upon an old friend, he knew the same thoughts and feelings that Ignacy had.

"I was saying we should begin pulling our forces from the Soviet border to help combat the Germans lead units." He waited for Ignacy to respond, and fekt another crack go through his heart as he said "Yes.. Yes of course." He turned and left the room, the air of defeat and surrender clear to all present.

Kasprzycki sighed, wondering if any of them would be alive when they walked out of the coming Hell... if it ever had an end.

German troops annihilated much of the Polish Army within a short time. Polands fate was sealed as soon as the Panzers crossed the border. It would be seven years before Poland was a free nation once more, but even then they would be free only under the watchful eyes of Moscow. These events, and those that would follow, could have been stopped. And yet no one stopped the Germans. It is up to us all to always remeber the results of these times, this time where Hell walked the earth, a hell made by man itself.

If we do not remember, if we forget how badly the world wished for peace, then we will bring ruin upon us all. It is up to every single one of us to make sure a similar hell never visits our green earth, ever again.

EDIT: Give me some more screenies, and I can make more :)
This is an offer too good to pass up.


Presidential Palace, Warsaw

Ignacy Mościcki held the letter in his sweaty palms. It was true. He dropped the message and lifted his hands to rest them on his forehead. The Prime Minister leaned back in his wooden chair. Quickly he glanced to his right at his Chief of Staff, and Army.

“Edward.... Edward”

“Sir, we have more reports of multiple assaults on our border provinces.”

“No, don't tell me. Don't make it worse.”

“Sorry, sir... We need orders.”

“Heh...” cough “You need orders? You need to know what to do?! You don't know anything Edward.”

The Prime Minister pushed his seat away from the long table, around which his cabinet sat. He stood uneasily. He took a long look around the table. Looking for something. The Prime Minister stood there for several minutes. Finally, he let out a gasp. He bent over and placed his hands on the table. His fingers were coiled into fists. His knuckles popped from the pressure, and the snap echoed through the long table to every cabinet member's ears. He spoke strongly.

“Gentlemen... I wash my hands of this business.”

He stood up straight, took a deep breath, turned around, and kicked his chair out of his way as he exited the room.

Some miles out of Jablonka, Poland

Anastazy Wiesław laid on the flowing grass. Looking down the scope on his rifle he saw the German troops of their 7th infantry division advancing against the unprepared polish troops. The German's tactics were all they needed to gain the upper hand in the battle. But their huge numbers didn't hurt either.

The Germans were piling into Polish controlled trenches the way bee's swarm a threat of their hive. No mercy. No politics. Just attack... attack... attack... The Poles were in full retreat. And Anastazy had the perfect view.Then he saw a tiny ray of light across the bloodbath that was the small field.

Anastazy rolled over once to the right and looked down his scope. He saw the German sniper on a hill opposite to his. He also had his target lined up. It wasn't long until Anastazy realized the sniper was aiming directly at him. He rolled again, and aimed. The Sniper had moved. Roll again.


He couldn't get a good shot. Finally he lined his rival up perfectly with the sights of his rifle. He put pressure on the trigger. He was about to shoot...

Anastazy's arm was ripped from it's socket. The blood drenched the whole left side of his body in remarkable time. His Nemesis had shot first. Someone rushed to his side. He couldn't tell who, because the loss of blood had blurred his senses. All he felt was cold. And pain. He heard a voice.

"Lieutenant! God, help us all."

Then there was a loud pop, and the blurred image of a man that Anastazy could see went limp. He felt more blood rushing over his body. But it wasn't his... The polish soldier's body fell on top of him, lifeless. Suddenly, the cold went away. Anastazy felt comfortable. He felt tired like all he need was sleep... Yes.... Sleep....

And then Anastazy died. With his comrade's bleeding corpse resting on his own dying body. And they were only some of the first casualties... in Rocky 43's first game of Hearts of Iron III. Oblivious was the player that real people were dying, every time he played the game. But... perhaps, even if Rocky43 knew, it would not curb his addiction to the game, and he would have to play on still, accepting the sacrifice.
Fall Weiss

A sterling riposte seemed all but gone
From Polish fields that time forgot
An army marches on and long
Like a darkening, cancerous spot.

A heartless fiend, fire breathes
Tearing and turning all around
Marching, churning up the leaves
Destruction everywhere abounds.

In Jablonka, battle was joined
With armies marching, rank by rank
And new cries were lastly coined
For dead soldiers and panzer tanks.

“Remember Jablonka!” the Pole shouts,
“Remember Alpers!” the German declares,
The fall of the city leaves no doubt
As to how Poland shall fare.

The defense of Poznan, which came next
In a Rainstorm with hail a plenty
Was more than daring jest
And spared not a single penny.

As all good things in hard
Times do, crumble like a finest dust
How cannot I, your humble bard
Explain horror seen from broken lust.

Lust, not for flesh or derring-do
But for land, fertile and clean
For German hunger overdue
Brings only Empire mien.

From sea to shining sea
Spreads darkened clouds of death
Heralding no liberty
Only squeezing out all breath.

After Poznan took a tumble
And the Army turned asunder
Poland looked as if to crumble
Soon to be def’ly put under.

When the Wehrmacht saw the spires
Of sleepy Warsaw town
Soon they filled with desires
Of international renown.

With great happiness the order given
Directly from those at the tippy-top
And now the faithful soldiers driven
To make good on Molotov-Ribbentrop.

In the wee hours of wintry Belo-Rus
Radios were tuned for news
And soon began to discuss
The variance of views.

One shouts, “No more for us!
We share no loves with them!”
And another retorts, “You silly wuss!
We both have our own gems!”

“The Germans have their Beer,
And us we have our Vody.
In influence, we have our sphere,
But their beer is still shoddy.”

Laughter rose at this jest
When suddenly, Hark!
A radio noise for the best
Warsaw had fallen under spark.

The Russian translation read
Like an exciting newsreel
With reports of treasures lead
To Germany with zeal.

Cheering Soviets stood, carbines in tow
With Belaia Armia chanting on their lips
Heading for the border and a row
With Polish lands to eclipse.

The good and noble men
Who once governed the Poles
Fled like headless hens
From enormous mountain trolls.

The RenVoenSoviet was powering
The Wehrmacht was strong
And Poland was not flowering
From no soldier came a song.

Virtues of Sobieski came crashing
Down once more, away from
All help, young Poland took a bashing
Waiting and yielding, preparing to succumb.

The last stand, at a village called Koden
Saw many a man fall in vain
The dreams of a nation were broken
In the gravest strain.

In the final minute, Cavalry did rush forth
Horses snorting, knowing of their fate
But even steeds knew, that even in the North
No respite could be found, nor space to further wait.

Machine guns flashed and shot
Bullets at those bravest modern knights
Hitting all but one, who gladly choose this lot
Reaching with his saber, all Poland behind this fight.

Slicing through the air, the sword struck a man
Knocking him down to the uncaring earth.
On his steed the Pole further ran
However, Germans closed, there was no dearth.

The bullet hit his hat, knocking it off
“My hat! My Memel! It does not matter!”
The Polish lad cried, “Throw it in the trough!”
Though the bullets said things latter.

One struck his arm, spreading pain and hurt
“My arm! My Lodz! It does not matter!”
The Polish lad cried, “Throw it in the dirt!”
Though the bullets said things latter.

Another tore his other arm, wasting grisly pound
“My arm! My Masovia! It does not matter!”
The Polish lad cried, “Throw it on the ground!”
Though the bullets said things latter.

The fatal bullet struck his heart,
“My heart! It is not if I go but when!
For Poland now must once more start
In the hearts of all her men.”

And with this noble phrase
He drew his final breath
Spat bloody ice through his gaze
And fell into the hands of death.

From Jabolnka to Koden and all
Battles in between, Poland fought
Embodied in the hopes of a dying man
That his life had been for naught.

Pałac Saski, Plac Piłsudskiego
Warszawa, Polska
0830 GMT, 1 September 1939

The large windows on the eastern façade of the Saxon Palace allowed the full glare of the morning sun to cast a deceptively bright sheen on what any sane man could only describe as a scene of foreboding chaos. Aides and staffers scrambled about the conference room, desperately trying to bring order to a situation that already threatened to overwhelm what was now the most important room in Poland. For four hours, Poland had been at war with Germany.

As Minister of Military Affairs, Generał dywizji Tadeusz Kasprzycki was charged with coordinating the Polish Military’s operations and advising the President on defense issues. Technically, that’s what this meeting was for. Technically. Kasprzycki pinched the bridge of his nose and forced himself to acknowledge that General Inspector Marszałek Polski Edward Rydz-Śmigły was doing his damndest to complicate matters. Second in power only to the President, Rydz-Śmigły was Commander-in-Chief of the military now that war had broken out, and he had his own ideas on how to prosecute the war.


President Mościcki, General Inspector Rydz-Śmigły, and Minister of Foreign Affairs Beck formed Poland's ruling triumvirate. The leading party, OZN, was a pro-military organization formed in 1937 to preserve Marshal Piłsudski's political legacy.​

Rydz-Śmigły’s fist shook the conference table, and a few map counters jumped. So did a pair of startled aides. Rydz-Śmigły’s deep-set eyes and hawkish nose gave the man a fearsome appearance, and few in the room cared to have the Marshal’s attention directed towards them. “We can’t give up the frontier without a fight! The people demand that we keep the German invaders out.” Behind the Marshal, Chief of Staff Wacław Stachiewicz nodded his agreement. Stachiewicz was a useless creature, Kasprzycki thought, whose competence was outweighed by his utter subservience to Rydz-Śmigły. Turning to the President, the Marshal continued. “If we pull back and consign ourselves to the defensive, we won’t last the year. We’ll be dragged into the streets and rightfully shot.”

President Ignacy Mościcki nodded. At a dignified 71, the President was two decades older than anybody else in the room. Like Stachiewicz, Mościcki owed his position to Rydz-Śmigły, who didn’t have enough support on his own to proclaim himself dictator. He absently tugged on his mustache, weighing the arguments with his politician’s mind. “Minister, what are our contingencies for a counteroffensive?” Small surprise that he would back the Marshal.


In 1936, President Mościcki promoted General Rydz-Śmigły to the rank of Marszałek Polski. Rydz-Śmigły's position as General Inspector of the Armed Forces puts him above the normal chain of command.​
“None, sir, we simply don’t have the men. Plan Zachód was implemented last month, but we only began calling up reserves yesterday. They won’t be ready for combat for another ten days.”

Rydz-Śmigły jumped back into the discussion. “Don’t give me that, Minister. Surely there are garrison units that can plug the gap for the moment.”

Kasprzycki gestured towards the large map stretched across the conference table.


The Polish General Staff's most basic map of the Western Front, indicating Polish and German troop dispositions. The commitment to defending the western border made Poland vulnerable to attacks from East Prussia and Slovakia.​
“Nothing nearby. A division each at Łódź and Lublin, two here in Warszawa, scattered brigades on the eastern border, any of which would take at least three days to reach the front. Everything else is on the frontier or tied up as reserves in the various armies.”

“Then transfer the Pomorze reserve south, if nothing else can be done. Armia Poznań must make the Germans fight for every inch of Polish soil.”

Kasprzycki shook his head in exasperation. “Sir, we may be able to spare a division here or there, but the Germans will bring more to bear if their attack fails. I respectfully suggest that we use this opportunity to retreat. I remind you that Plan Zachód calls for Armia Poznań to fall back to the Warta regardless of success; speeding up the timetable won’t hurt us.”


Initial reports of the battle west of Poznań were sketchy. Although Kutrzeba's Armia Poznań held off the frontal attack, XIX Panzerkorps' flanking maneuver to the north threatened to unhinge the entire northwestern defense.​
The explanation distracted Rydz-Śmigły long enough for a major from the communications office to approach. “News from the front, sir. From Poznań,” he continued, offering the Marshal a sheaf of papers.

“Speak of the devil. This had better be good,” Rydz-Śmigły said as he glanced through the pages. Unfortunately, it wasn't. “The German panzers have breached the northern flank of Armia Poznań’s lines. They’re driving hard for Bydgoszcz.”


The German 4. Armee attacked Polish forces at the weak point between Armia Pomorze and Armia Poznań, prompting the withdrawal of Armia Pomorze from the Corridor.​
“Bydgoszcz!” Kasprzycki exclaimed. “They’ll be there in two days. Sir, we must fall back. Armia Pomorze can still make it before the trap closes.”

“Fine, Minister,” the Marshal relented. “Send the orders to Armia Pomorze, have them fall back to Toruń. Armia Modlin will proceed immediately northward to keep a line open, then withdraw to Plock as soon as practicable.”

“Very well, sir,” Kasprzycki agreed. Armia Modlin’s attack would likely fail if it ran into a German force of comparable size, but the plan was better than nothing. “I’ll have SGO Narew skirt westward to cover Modlin’s flank. Our eastern flank will be left dangling, but we’ll need something covering the northern approaches to Warszawa.”


Adam Brzechwa-Ajdukiewicz's 26 Dywizja Piechoty, recently transferred to Armia Pomorze, withdraws to Plock while the Armia Modlin launches spoiling attacks into East Prussia.​
“Fine, fine. If that’s settled, we still have the question of the main counterattack to the west.” Rydz-Śmigły said. “Armia Prusy is still being mobilized, yes?” he asked Kasprzycki.

“It is, sir. It will be combat ready in-” Kasprzycki started, but was interrupted as one of his staff officers stepped forward.

“Sir, this just came in from Pyry, marked urgent,” the aide said, then handed him a folder and scuttled back out the door. Kasprzycki tore open the seal and looked at the first page. This was just what he needed to win over the Marshal. With a grim sort of satisfaction, he laid the envelope’s contents on the table.


German messages decoded at the Polish General Staff's Cipher Bureau in Pyry revealed that 8. Armee intended to break Armia Poznań's lines and cut off its retreat to the interior.​
“Radio decrypts from Pyry. The Germans plan to cut off Armia Poznań, and they’ll do it if we don’t fall back. We must pull everything back while we have the chance.”

Even Rydz-Śmigły faltered as he looked at the report, but soon regained his bluster. “Eight divisions? Very well. Order Kutrzeba to conduct a fighting retreat, and get in touch with Rómmel. Armia Łódź will hit the Germans from the flank as they chase Armia Poznań.”

Kaprzycki sighed and pointed to another map.


The average German corps was roughly half the size of a Polish Army. 8. Armee could use its numerical parity to tie down both Armia Poznań and Armia Łódź while other German forces advanced towards Warszawa.​
“The Germans have another army further south. If Armia Łódź isn’t already engaged, they only have an hour or two before contact is made.” Rydz-Śmigły remained quiet while Mościcki looked on. “Marshal, please,” he begged. Once we shorten our lines, we can hold out for a few months, until the new year at the very least. If we try to fight it out on the border, there won’t be an army left in two weeks, three at most.”

Rydz-Śmigły stood silently, trying to find an answer in the maps arrayed before him, but none was to be found. Finally, he stiffened, almost to attention. “Minister, you seem to have things well in hand here. General Stachiewicz will aid you in any manner you desire. Mr. President, if you’ll excuse me,” he said, turning towards Mościcki, “I must be getting to my headquarters at Modlin Fortress- somebody must have noticed my absence by now, and you know how junior staffers can be when they don’t have a nursemaid. I’ll be there if you wish to consult further.” Donning his hat, the old Marshal turned and stalked out of the room.

“Minister,” Mościcki said, stepping back towards the table as he watched the Marshal go, “I fear Edward may have been right. Our political coalition might not last if this war continues for too long. How will the country fare?”

“We’ll be fine, Mr. President. We’ll be fine once the French and English join the fight.”

Another aide approached, with another letter. “Minister, news from Kraków. The German 14. Armee is attacking from the south.”



The establishment of a German puppet government in Slovakia in March 1939 forced the Polish military to stretch itself thin over some 300 miles of new hostile frontier. Jabłonka Pass, near the Slovakian/German border, had relatively heavy defenses.​
“Excuse me, Mr. President. I have work to do.”​

To be continued...?
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Fleeing the inevitable

Chaos rules the streets of Warsaw as two high ranking Polish generals flee from the Army HQ. Rubble falls down, civilians run through the streets in search of cover. Buildings look deserted, but everyone knows that behind the fragile walls numerous families sit together in fear.

“It is over.” Says Chief of the Army and General Staff Edward Rydz-Smigly to Jozef Zajac.
“How could we have ever been so foolish to believe that Hitler would leave us alone, we should have prepared ourselves better!” Shouts Jozef during under the deafening sound of chaos and bombardment by artillery and Stukas.
“Prepared ourselves better?” Says Edward, with remark.
“How can we ever prepare for this? We had no army, no experienced officers and you foolishly let your air forces be destroyed Jozef!”
“We should have noticed this sooner!” Jozef replies under the thundering sound of a huge explosion down the street. “If we don’t want to be killed than we should get out of here now! Those explosions are already coming very near.”
“You are right Jozef! Quickly we must get to the staff car and drive out of Warsaw before the Germans completely seal us in.”

Both Jozef and Edward run towards the now dusty staff car, get in and order the driver to get out of Warsaw and link up with the remaining Polish forces east of the city.
“We lost everything you know” Says Edward to Jozef while in the staff car.
“We should have never tried to counter the Germans near the border regions. It would have been better for us to retreat to more defendable positions deeper into Poland.”
“That’s nonsense Jozef and you know it. There was no way we could have won and held out against the Germans. You saw what they did at Pozan!”
“Yes, Poznan.” Edward replies again. “Poznan, was the only part of the frontline that we held for several days.”
“That might have been Edward, but you haven’t seen what we were up against. I was there after spending the weekend with my family. When I was ordered to return to Warsaw to take up command of the Air forces. I passed our troops near Poznan. I thought that it would be a good opportunity to boost the morale of the men to let myself be seen and talk with some of our boys.”
Jozef stares through the window of the car. The car is reaching the outskirts of Warsaw.
“So, what happened? I only know that we lost the battle after holding Poznan for several days.” Edward replies with ignorance.
“Well, at the time I was there the battle started only ten minutes later. I saw our soldiers take up positions in primitively made defensive pits and foxholes. In the distance I could hear that the Germans were coming.”
“Hear?” Edward asks.
“Yes, hear! This isn’t the first world war you know! You have tanks and armored cars now, not just horses and men.” Jozef replies with anger.
“The tanks made a terrible noise and you could see the ground tremble. Some of our boys panicked and tried to flee out of their foxholes, but were prevented from doing so by other soldiers and their officers. I guess I cannot blame them for that. What did we prepare them for after all? They were lucky to even have a gun!” Jozef again stares through the dusty window of the staff car. The sounds of war begin to fade away and are replaced more and more by the sound of the car’s engine.
“You should have ordered them to retreat! They were no match for panzers and the artillery wasn’t even positioned correctly yet to open fire. Through my binoculars I saw panzers overrunning their positions backed by infantry, who quickly took the foxholes and used them for their own cover. They were massacred!”
“It must have been a terrible experience for you too Edward, seeing our boys like that”
“Yes, it was. The only thing that prevented a breakthrough that day at Poznan was some heroic resistance by the 25 division some 15 miles to the north of Poznan. They managed to stop the advance of the main panzer force by blocking the main access routes to Poznan and using some old fixed anti-aircraft gun positions to shoot at the panzers, which had to stop due to the blockades.”
“Yes, I know Jozef. I read the report. Sadly they all had to surrender within a week after their initial success due to the German encirclement around Poznan.”
“Yes, some 40.000 men surrendered only a few days later, when out of ammunition and totally exhausted.”
“That was terrible for us at the HQ as well. We wanted to help them, but no supply trucks could reach them anymore. The ones we did send were seized by the Germans 20 miles east of Poznan. We tried to relieve them and sent general Haller de Hallenburg with a division to reinforce their positions and open a clear route for supplies and logistics again. He almost succeeded, but the Germans were already too strong and to our despair general De Hallenburg was even killed by stuka bombardment when at his forward HQ.”

Suddenly out of the skies two fighters emerge from the clouds and begin to move towards the staff car.
“Look! German fighters!” Shouts Edward.
The driver of the staff car tries to pick up some speed, while the fighters are closing in for the kill.
“We can never make this!” The clearly panicking driver shouts.
The driver of the staff car tries to avoid being a sitting duck by zigzagging the car. One of the fighters opens up fire and most bullets overshoot, but some managed to hit the car through the roof. Suddenly Anti-aircraft fire starts from an old farm about half a mile further down the road.
“Look Edward! They give up. Thank God for this narrow escape.”
The silence of no reply is even louder than the firing of the guns or the roaring of the engine.
“Edward?” Jozef replies too scared to look at him knowing what must have happened.
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The Polish Honor


The political situation of Poland was very complicated. Towards the agressive diplomatic actions taken by the Third Reich Poland had three options. The first option was to became the ally of France and Great Britain in order to deter Hitler from attacking Poland. The second option was to join Anti-Comnitern Pact and become a pupet of Germany. The last option was to join Stalin and become the next communistic republic of the CCCP. Poland chose the first option because the democratic values and sovereignty were too precious to renounce them without fight. Only the nation that actually lost it's country can understand it.

It has been a very difficult decision for Polish government to reject German demands.
Minister Beck had his famous speech in the parliament explaining that Poland is independent and would never agree to humiliate itself by accepting the Hitler’s proposal. Gdańsk will remain Polish as long as there are some Poles alive! The mobilization of the nation has started. Every day more and more young people joined the army. People willing to defend their freedom and dignity.​

Relying on English and French promises Poland become the first country to stand against the Nazi aggression. Poland did not want to finish like Czechoslovakia. Czechs were deprived of honor and pride. They were conquered without fight. Minister Beck told his Allies that his country is not going to be the next guest of Nazi slaughterhouse.


The Marshall Rydz-Śmigły prepared a defense plan in which Polish troops were supposed to fight the Germans along the border and then retreat behind the Wisła river and wait for French army to open the second front in the west. Poles were not awere of the fact that Stalin is ready to attack from the east. "The Ribbentrop- Molotow Pact" opened the door of Poland for Hitler's army. Now Germany did not have to worry about the CCCP reaction.


On the 1st of September 1939 Poland was attacked without warning. The border was crossed by the swarm of German troops. The impact and speed of this attack has shocked the Polish High Command. Despite the heroic fight Polish troops could not stop the German invaders.The lack of anti-tank weapons, outnumbered armies and poor fighters cover decided about the lost border battle. Sorrow and pain was in the hearts of Polish soldiers. During retreat they had to watch burning villages and killed women and children. There was no explanation for such a thing like dropping bombs on civilians. Polish fighters were unable to protect the retreating armies and civilians fleeing in disorder. German Panzer divisions moved faster and easily encircled Polish armies.

On the 17th of September the eastern border of Poland was attacked by the Soviet Union forces.All hope and chance to continue the fight was lost. According to the secret protocol of the Ribbentrop- Mołotow Pact Stalin and Hitler together tore Poland into pieces.


To his surprise Rydz-Śmigły had to notice that neither French nor British troops had attacked Germany. When his armies were retreating and civilian victims growing, western Allies were dropping leaflets on Germany. Poland had to fight alone with the two biggest and brutal totalitarian coutries. The Marshall had no idea what sufferings future will bring for his nation. The worst of the wars had started in the most dishonorable way.



The French and English forgot about their duties as the Allies. They did not send their armies. British troops were sitting in England while Poland was bleeding from a deadly wound. The French felt safe behind The Maginot Line. The French army was very big and in comfortable position to attack because Germans were fully involved in the east conquering Poland. However, the French prefered to stay away from the war and wait. Wait for what good might just future bring. But there was nothing good about waiting. As the famous British writer said once :‘All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing’

British and French will have to pay for the lack of will to fight in the future. Hitler knew that he has to destroy his enemies one by one before they gather their forces.


Poland surrounded by the enemies and abondoned by friends had to finally surrender. The country was divided between the two most inhuman dictators around the globe. Families were separated, cities were in ruins and soldiers became POW. Both regimes introduces the annihilation of the conquered nation. Germans and Russians started the executions of the most important and well educated citizens. The first Jews were prisoned in the ghettos. The first camps opened in Katyń. The unleashed terror was about to begin and last for the next few years.

However, the oppressors failed to break the spirit of the nation . Not so long after the defeat the AK- Polish Resistance Movement was brought to life. It was the biggest resistance movement in the occupied Europe. Poland was the only country that Germans did not even try to collaborate with. They knew it was pointless. They knew that no Waffen SS units could be organised from the Poles. There was no Quisling or Petain government, like it was in the other countries. Poland simply never accepted the fact of losing it's independence. Polish troops were fighting on all fronts together with the British and American soldiers. Despite loosing it's country Poland was the fourth biggest power when it comes to the number of soldiers fighting with the Third Reich. The government in exile continued the fight.


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The Screenplay


The screen is filled by a nearly-complete watercolor painting. It is a pastoral scene, with a rolling MEADOW and a distant FOREST beyond. We see a paintbrush filling in the last of the shrubbery in the foreground, lifting off tiny flecks of paint to create the contours of a juniper bush. Our CLOSEUP tightens on the juniper bush until the the weave of the paper becomes visible.



The frame dissolves into a matching CLOSEUP of a real juniper bush. The camera slowly pulls back to reveal a brown squirrel perched on the bush nibbling at the berries. After a few seconds, another squirrel scurries into the frame, with its teeth menacingly bared. The first squirrel stops eating, and looks warily at the second squirrel. In a moment, we hear a faint sound, like a deep rumble. The second squirrel begins to advance on the first squirrel, its tiny claws raised like a pugilist's fists, and its bushy tail straight as an arrow. The second squirrel stops in his tracks. Both squirrels now seem to notice the sound, which is growing gradually louder. Over the course of the next seven seconds the throbbing rumble becomes dominant in the scene, as both squirrels listen with bated breath.


The bush and both squirrels disappear under the left track of a huge tank. The camera pulls back to:


As the camera pulls back, we see first the entire tank, followed by more around it, until we see that the entire MEADOW is filled with scores and scores of tanks. The camera tilts upward toward the horizon, where we see the distant domes and spires distinctive of an EASTERN EUROPEAN CITY.



The camera reveals a paved, two-laned ROADWAY. A signpost reads “POZNAN 7 KILOMETERS”.



The camera pans past a calendar marked “SEPTEMBER 1, 1939”. We see several men in Polish Army uniforms sitting around a CONFERENCE TABLE. One of them, a BALD and HEAVILY-DECORATED general, is our ANTAGONIST, Polish Chief of Staff EDWARD RYDZ-SMIGLY. With an evil leer, he addresses the other generals.

The Germans are in our power now. They are attempting to counterattack, but will be crushed. They have 51,000 soldiers attacking us near POZNAN, but these are no match at all for our 12,000 highly trained men.​

As Chief of the Air Force, I must concur. Our AEROPLANES and ZEPPELINS have taken photographs and it appears that the Germans are led by some incompetent buffoon called ALPERS.​

A BUTLER enters the conference room.

Who would like more dog meat? It has been marinated in the tears of orphans.

Me! Me! Give us some corrupt, degenerate art to look at while you’re at it.

Only the finest pornography for your excellencies. I’ll be back in a minute.​



Hundreds of German tanks are rolling toward POZNAN. A HEROIC officer with BRONZED SKIN and GORGEOUSLY CHISELED FEATURES is bravely standing atop one of the tanks giving orders to the STRONG, TANNED and MUSCULAR soldiers around him. A Polish aeroplane passes overhead. The officer, GENERAL ALPERS, shoots it down with three well-aimed pistol shots.

Take that you cowardly Poles! Forward for Germany! Forward for Volk and Fatherland!​


Keep up your fire, heroes! Soon we will have defended our peaceful homeland from the enemy hordes!​



So as I was saying, we will destroy the German armies. I am sure that they do not have any armored vehicles which could blunt our attack. We will slaughter them by the thousands, by the millions, even! And then we will defile their civilization and bring about a decay of everything that is good and true in Western Europe. Their women will be --​

“Young man,” the Director said, bluish cigar smoke curling from his lips, “don’t you think your script is a little heavy handed?”

“Perhaps,” he said, “but only for the sake of revealing the greater truth of the evils of the system which has for so long and throughout the West proven to be only the very worst to the detriment of the --”

The director silenced him with a raised hand. He shook his head slowly. “I’m going to be straight with you. This -- this is practically unreadable. It would be impossible to film, bloated as a dead bullfrog on an August day in Mississippi, and well, I just don’t think audiences want to see this kind of thing.”

“Please, Samuel, I --”

“Mr. Goldwyn to you.”

Entschuldigung. Mr. Goldwyn, this has vision, and the potential to shatter all records. Audiences will have never seen art so pure on screen before. I was thinking Gloria Swanson could play the --”

“Listen. We’re on page, uh, 571, and the action hasn’t even started yet. This is bound to go way over-budget, and to be honest you just don’t have a big enough name to see the picture through. Besides -- I just don’t think audiences can connect to something set this far in the future, and frankly this controversial. Remember that no small number of Americans have Polish ancestry. I myself am Polish-Jewish.”

The young man gulped, his face and hair slick with perspiration. “Surely you understand what I’m trying to channel. The feeling in the script, you must admit, is so raw, so powerful, so strongly felt! You cannot, you must not, please. Please. You of all people must have the vision to see the potential in this. I’ll -- I’ll be the first to admit that it’s a little rough. Of course it could use a little polish. Maybe even a little Polish.”

The Director, Goldwyn, sat stone-faced at the flat joke.

“What I mean, sir -- Mr. Goldwyn -- is that I believe in you. I just ask you to believe in my movie.”

Goldwyn drew deeply from the cigar, staring out his window at Pasadena’s long rows of stately palm trees. “No. You’re a very talented young man, Mr. Hitler, but I just don’t feel that your idea is right for us.”

“Please!” The shabby little tramp was on his knees, wiping tears into the Director’s expensive pant-legs. “You can’t reject me! The Vienna Academy of Fine Arts thought I wasn’t right for them either. So I retooled my ideas for the silver screen. They’re perfect for the new medium. Y-y-you surely don’t disagree with that, do you Mr. Goldwyn? I spent my life savings for the ticket out to California. This is my last chance! I’ve got to make it out here -- I’ve just got to!”

“I’m really afraid I’m going to have to pass on the screenplay. Good luck in your future endeavors.”

The skinny little body drew itself up at once and stormed to the office door. “You just lack vision, that’s all! I’ll find the right medium for this idea, and it’ll be so big the whole world will be transfixed.”

Goldwyn nodded placidly as the young man backpedaled raving out his door.

“You’ll be sorry! You’ll see! People like you will be sorry you ever crossed me!”

As the footsteps fast receded down the hall, Goldwyn finished off the last of the cigar. “Vivian,” he called to his secretary in the next room, “who’s in for my 2 o’ clock?”

“It’s that young Italian gentleman to see you about that political picture. Should I show him in?”

“Go right ahead.”

In moments, a barrel-chested man presented himself at the doorway.

“Good afternoon. Have a seat, Mr. Mussolini.”
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Well i hope i won't be laughed off from this forum :D


Poland has a destiny. No one tells us what we can or can't do and with the help of the allied nations we will endure this great war Germany brought on us. By the will and determination of the Polish people those upstart Germans will be first driven off from the sacred Polish land if they dare to enter and then with our superior morale we will take all of Germany with some aid from France. Make no mistake, Poland is a very peaceful land, but we are now forced to take the mantle of putting end to German menace once and for all time. Majestic Polish realm may look tiny compared to Germany, but that is only because they unfairly took Czech lands before we completed (rather started) the negotigations with Czech about annexation of Czechoslovakia in to Poland, but any land they have taken will only delay the inevitable.


Here one can observe our domestic situation which is looking quite good if i might say so. Our head of state has taught the Polish people their destiny for he is a conqueror to be likened to likes of Napoleon and Alexander the Great. He has inspired Poland to such extent that conscription is no longer necesary, young Poles from all corners of Poland and world are joining the once small Polish army which has now become an instrument of German defeat. Our economy is pretty free because free economy seems to work quite well in UK and they once conquered pretty much everything worthwhile on Earth with notable expection being Poland ofcourse. To avoid any bad influence foreigners and domestic dissidents would have on our Polish youth we need to control media, but that's small price for greatness. School is also necesary so we have bureaucrats to run Germany once we have taken over them. Our chief of Staff can stay for now, but his narrowmindness regarding war might become obstacle to our destiny once we start taking over Germany and our foreign minister is also too keen to live in the old days of peace so he needs to go now!. Rest of the personalities in our cabinet are not that important so we will simply avoid talking about them. We are entertaining the idea of mobilizing Poland, but that might not be necesary. Our most trusted advisors are telling us that once Germans realise full might and extent of Polish army they will flee in terror.


Behold the front that is going to expand very soon in to Germany. As you can see we have our troops placed on our borders save for Warsaw HQ group which we simply forgot to place on the border when we were planning for the war (note to myself, perhaps i should actualy pay more attention to what generals say in the briefings so these small slips wouldn't happen all the time) and the general who commanded it was propably too drunk when the war began so we have to find replacement for him. A damn shame, he was such a fine proponent for Polish expansion. But anyways i'll leave that matter to rest, it's not like we are going to need those men to win this war. They can parade in the streets of Warsaw and keep people there entertained while this small matter with Germany is being taken care off. Overall the situation looks rather good.


Haha, pathetic. Is that the best Germans can give? Attacking our fine border corps with smaller force? I'm beginning to think that perhaps it's not worthwhile to conquer Germany because clearly Germans are people with no hope. Hmm.. Wait, what's that? They are not sending all their divisions to fight in Poznan? Come here you damn cowards so we can kill you! Oh well i guess they aren't coming because they fear us. So far it's just as our trusted advisors said, Germans are running away from the real fight. Better give our commanding general day off as well since Germans aren't really trying.



What's this then? Why are the refusing to fight where our numbers are equal and why aren't they running away already. And why aren't any of my generals answering phones anymore? Damn them, when this is over i will personaly make sure that their careers are done for. This is not the result what i want, i want victory.. i demand it! Perhaps now would be proper time to bring Warsaw HQ to front, but then again those damn imbeciles most haven't assigned a leader yet. But i have an idea! I will personaly lead my brave soldiers to front, i don't need any generals to tell me what i can or can't do. My leadership will guarantee the victory and see that our destiny is fulfilled. I'm so inspired already and i can't wait to get to the fighting!!

And that was the last time Polish people heard about the grey eminence who led Poland. According to rumors he was last seen leading a cavalry charge against German panzers in Poznan. Apparently that old fool really believed in what he wrote, but in reality bravery and morale are no match for cold hard steel.
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The alarm rang. His heart sank.

Jedrek jumped out of bed, hearing soldier’s feet slapping against the floor as they hopped out of their bunks. With the top secret Kb ppanc wz. 35 by his side, getting dressed in under fifteen seconds was the easy part. Pulling on his boots he looked up, discovering half the men were already out the door. The lump in his throat wouldn’t go away and that damn alarm wouldn’t stop ringing.

“Jedrek! Let’s go!” Jedrek heard the sound of his buddy, Lech, near the exit. Picking up the weapon Jedrek threw himself through the opening of the door with Lech running behind him.

War thundered. The silent sounds from minutes ago were peppered with small arms fire. The world shook as shells exploded and tanks trampled the ground. Over the megaphones he heard, “Znajdują wasze stacje.” Find your stations! Find your stations! And the alarm still rang.

He ran to his position not knowing if it would be there when he arrived. Everything was moving like lightning. He watched the lightning, the artillery strike one-hundred yards in front of him. The dirt rose into clouds, distorting his view of the sky as Polish fighters PZL P.11 scrambled to the air. For that moment his feet stalled.

Propelled by momentum, Lech put a hand against Jedrek’s back, shoving him forward. His feet moved. The popping sounds from his right grew louder as he slid into his position in the prone behind a set of sandbags split by a tree. Lech pulled up on the left side, providing cover. Once ready, Jedrek lied on the ground, snaking his weapon to the right of the bags as he waited.

Cold sweat. Nerves. Biting bursts from the Polish Brownings. Screaming planes. The megaphone was in the distant backdrop of his mind. But that alarm still rang. Anticipation surged as his heart made repeated leaps to escape his chest. How could he get off a clear shot while his chest heaved?


A different sound. Cracks. Wood snapped and nausea hit him hard. Jedrek’s face grew stern. Looking down the sights of the weapon he waited for the first Germans to enter his range. Then another sound. Something closer. Lech was firing his weapon. Jedrek wanted to look but training taught him to refrain. To give up his line-of-sight could prove deadly. And so he remained, with his eyes fastened downrange.

A swarm of tanks came in to view. Jedrek steadied his breathing and when he exhaled he didn’t take in another breath. Lying on the ground he chose his target, aimed and slowly pulled the trigger. The butt of the weapon kicked against his shoulder but his eyes remained on the tank. It was still coming. The engine hadn’t died and its people weren’t dead.

Jedrek worked the bolt on his weapon, clearing the way for his next shot. He remembered to breath, taking in a gasp of air as he aimed again. He stared down the same target, timed his breathing and was cool with the trigger. He heard it hit the tank in spite of surrounding sounds. Jedrek had tuned into the battle as the tanks continued coming forward. He knew it was just him and that German tank. There were no Polish tanks to come help him. Not even cavalry. The lines all along the border were weak.

Artillery and hell rained down upon the lines like a parade, affecting everyone’s mood who was close enough to witness. The barracks were destroyed. And men screamed.

Still startled and shocked, Jedrek tried blocking out the terror, and aimed. He was going to take it out while the other tanks expelled their shells on the hapless Polish line. Staring down his sights he concentrated. He gasped and leaned back as a Polish planed dropped from the sky and rocked the ground, exploding between him and the oncoming fortress of metal. “Znajdują wasze stacje! Znajdują wasze stacje!” he heard. From somewhere, the alarm still rang.

Peering down the iron sights once more he aimed, breathed and squeezed. The tanks continued to roll.

Jedrek readied the weapon. He saw the tank’s turret turning. His heart slammed against the ground. His pulse pounded in his ears. Jedrek fired his weapon a third time. After a moment the tank began veering to its right as the turret stopped. Were they dead? He wasn’t willing to wait and find out as he prepared for another shot.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a puff of smoke rising from the end of another tank’s barrel. Jedrek’s jaw dropped. Immediately he spun his head to warn Lech. But Lech wasn’t there, neither dead nor alive. And then. Nothing. There was nothing. Not even that damn alarm.
Paul sat on the front lines of the province of Poznan. There was talk in the trenches of them; who claimed to rule dazing. He heard he was a man bent on power. Paul was much more serious about the war. His family had fought for Poland for generations. Every since the polish had fought against the runisians for their independence, He was a self-taught military genius. He knew that the way the world fights is changing. As Paul got out of his flashback he looked at the trench around him. It was muddy. The troops were crowded and people called greens surrounded Paul. These were people who joined for the glory. Paul had lost a lot of family to war and knew there was no glory in war. Not only was it muddy but also it was damp and slushy. Then and there he heard the first gun shot. It came from a green. At first he thought it was just a play show as he looked above the trench and saw nothing. Just then and there he saw a tank come out of nowhere. A shot came from the huge tank that killed most people around him. His only friend Phil started shouting orders. Then a stray bullet hit Phil. Paul never knew what it was like to lose someone close to you. He had heard about it. As he thought about it he saw all the grieving families who would miss a man that day. Big pieces of lead threw through the line in the trench. He was told in the begging there was a going to be 4 divisions. Now it looked like there was no more than one. More and more it looked like Paul was the leader. In the final moment he looked up and saw his ancestors in the sky. He knew he would never have a family like this so he rallied the final men and charged for victory and a better life for his young brother. He fell but not forever. He was collected and sent to a prison in Germany. But that is another story.

This is an example of a polish situation at the time. The German strategy was called blitzkrieg and helped them win battle after battle. The polish had old ww1 stagiest which helped the German. Poznan was and horribly defeat for the polish.

Poland and the world were surprised by the new style of warfare. Paul in my mind is a good example of this. I think that the feeling about the Germans and the polish is shown here.
He runs a dictator with his minions
Daniel Valdez is asking them how
Did they fail a generation from freedom?
A firestorm rages in Poland.
War returns with its loud blasts
And depressing sounds
With people crying for lost people
Who will never return to the people who cry?
Disaster strikes Poland
People cry “ peace peace “ but there is no peace.
If only they had listened to him

"What!? Ignacy Moscicki bellowed, red faced.

"I'm afraid so, sir" Edward Rydz-Smigly, chief of staff and the army, answered. He had told them... He knew that something like this would happen... but no one would listen. He bowed, and left his head of state puffing out smoke from his cigar.

The door closed with a bang, he then walked briskly through the building. Windows and tiles passed, but nothing mattered to him anymore.

"How could no one listen to me? I told them..." His mind echoed and echoed.

He made it out of the building, passing a couple of guards who eyed him. He couldn't care less... He took his keys and opened the door to his car.

He had made it back home... where plans of how to repel an invasion of this size where strewn all over his desk.

He had calculated everything to the detail... He had contacted the British in June and they had promised to aid him if he could pass these plans... but politics outhanded him.


Alarms went on in early dawn. Edward immediately shot up on his seat and saw something beyond any reason...

A... map?

Suddenly, realisation dawned on him.

He threw his coat on, and stuffed the map into his bag.

He went out into a mayhem of people running to buildings, as the german war machine cascaded into the polish capital. Bombs, Artillery, everything fired at them... as though the whole world was firing at the poor city. However, nothing else mattered now.

Zig-Zagging through the streets, he made it to the government building and ran through the door, ignoring the guards who had tried to stop him.

He burst into the prime minister's office, however, no one was in sight.

"Come out, prime minister" he ordered.

A head popped from behind the desk. Without any waiting, he threw his map into the desk, and pointed out the city of warsaw.

"Prime minister, the war is over for us. I made this map yesterday before sleeping... showing us our escape routes. If we move now, we might just have a chance. Or else, we can die here and be forgotten."

The map showed... exactly as Edward had predicted, the German wehrmatch steamrolling through Poland in less than a month... and also as he predicted, that the russians would also attack them.

The map, however, was flawed. It showed how defences would look like if he had full reserves to deploy, but Edward knew that the polish army had almost completely disbanded. These soldiers were now forming resitance movements... and it would allow them to move Southwards... and into neutral Romania.

Crossing the border into Romania... Edward looked into his pack of maps... each depicted exactly how the german invasion was going to procede... and it was exactly how they did...

If only they had listened to him...


Well... thats my 2 cents for this.

I write fanfictions for Pokemon mostly ( flame me all you want, but its a good way to get experience in writing )... but this is my first attempt at a serious writing story.

If I do actually make it into the top 5, I'll be able to get the game early, because my plans were to go into the US in september to buy it. ( Not many videogame stores in Argentina ), but if the swine flu keeps advancing, I might not make it.


Ah crap, we're Poland...

Ah crap, we're Poland...

Disclaimer: Before you call me a racist, offensive, nazi Tom Cruise loving bastard, this is a comedy AAR with no bearing on facts, evidence, common sense or logic. None of this actually happened (well, almost none of this) and if you believe any of it then you need to get out more often.

September 1st, 1939


Narrator- Poland, the red headed middle child of Europe. Russia to the East. Germany to the West. Austria to the South. Except there is no more Austria, because they decided that following a short, balding man with a wierd mustache and affeminate manners was cool. Go them.


Narrator- The situation was dire. Not satisfied with having taken on the whole world once, the Germans decided it was time to dance again. Life insurance premiums in France shot through the roof. Surely a bad sign.

Narrator- This was Ignacy Moscicki, or Mossie as he was affectionately called. As Polish names were notoriously difficult to spell (never mind pronounce), it became common practice at the time to give them nicknames not out of place in a Disney movie. Anyways he managed to combine, incredibly, being an imperialist and the head of Poland. Which is sort of like being an ashmatic marathon runner. You can try, but you ain't getting far.

Narrator- This was Marian Zyndram-Koscialkowski, or Marie for short. As the head of government his main job was to reign in Mossie's napoleonic ambitions. Fun times.

Narrator- Last and certaintly least was Smigy, who somehow managed to become both head of the army and chief of staff. His gig consisted mainly of making sure the cavalry's horses were well fed with a variety of nutrious oates. As for the navy and air force, well those guys were a bunch of jerks.

Narrator- Together Smigy, Marie and Mossie formed the topmost echelon of the Polish war effort. Plus they were fantastic singers to boot. Add Diana Ross and they could have been the first Supremes.

Polish Central Command- 8:00 September 1st, 1939.

Marie- Ah crap! The Germans are attacking.

Mossie- Fix bayonets! Not one step back! We shall the defeat the evil of nazism on Polish ground! We shall never surrender! Death before dishonor!

Marie- Bayonets?!? Are you crazy? The Germans have tanks, planes and self-propelled artilery! All we have are men armed with flintlocked rifles and horses-

Smigy- Well-fed horses.

Marie- Shut up Smigy. Anyways, we don't stand a chance.

Mossie- Then what would you have us do? Give up? Accept occupation? Never!

Marie- I suggest we do the the sensible, Polish thing to do: Form a government in exile.

Smigy- We'd need help from the airforce and navy for that, and they're a bunch of jerks.

Marie- I know. Maybe if you hadn't spent all our defense budget on ponie-chow we'd be better preppared for it.

Smigy- But at least the horses are well-

Marie- Shut up Smigy!

Mossie- And where would we run to? The god hating communists? The snail eating french?

Marie- The English.

Mossie- The English!?! But they have crappy food and bad dental hygene!

Marie- I know. But much must be sacrificed in war.

Mossie- Oh dear.

Narrator- Thus began the great Polish march to the sea, which was like Sherman's march to the sea during the American civil war, except instead of raising hell and taking territory the Poles ran like hell and gave up territory. The devil's in the details, really.


Narrator- After recovering from their five week vacation stint in Poland the Germans looked westward to France, and who knows where else? But the Poles were not defeated. Silently, quietly they waited in some dingy London pub, eating fish and chips for the 325703976th time, awaiting the day their trials and tribulations would end. For some day, maybe not tommorrow but someday, their horseman would once again ride the Polish country side. The eagle would fly again, just not by plane. Jerks.
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