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Lord Durham

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Young Durham raises an arm desparately to get the professor's attention.

The professor looks up from his desk and pushes his spectacles back on his nose.

"What is it Durham?"

"The maps, sir. I can't seem to find them! How can I do my homework?"

As the professor attends to the matter Durham rears back and catches young Bloomfield in the back of the head with a wad of paper as the boy is leaving the classroom.
 
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Well boy if you'd been listening to me earlier you will have heard me say that they're not available at the moment but I hope to make sure we have them back in the next day or some.

Bloomfield! Good god, you've dropped your papers! Pick them up before someone walks over them. I don't know why you didn't just go straight into military academy rather than waste my time trying to teach you of our heritage and history.
 

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Young Argael raises his hand and asks with one eye shut, because he knows his going to get yelled at.:rolleyes:

"Sir aren't we in Prussia Sir?:confused: The first country to stablish the 'Military Service' as obligatory, and the first to create the real 'Military Academies' of the Modern Era?;) Then he is already being instructed in the militia, am I wrong?:D Just tell him he will not be permited to play EU for a while, thats the worst punishment for any of us.":p

He just waited to be hit by his professor's wooden stick and been sent to his home without EU playing time.:(
 
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Lord Durham

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[sheepish grin] Sorry professor :( [/sheepish grin]
 
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Prof. Suvorov was sitting at his desk musing over the last translation of classical Greek works from the monastery when there was a knock at the door.

"Enter" he said. Professor Ludwig Eisenstein entered the room with a gloomy face.

"The students again?" queried Suvorov. "Are they causing trouble?"

"Nothing any worse than last year and the year before that" answered Eisenstein. "No it's about that military chart that I sent to the library this morning. I've been back there but there's no sign of it"

"Well you know the way the library system works here don't you?" responded Prof. Suvorov. Suvorov had designed the system to control the university archives and was constantly beset with problem from frustrated Professors who would refuse to take the time to understand the rules for sending documents to the archives.

"Yes, of course, I made sure that I marked the document with a that JPG insignia as you mentioned", said Eisenstein failing to disguise his general lack of understanding of the others methods and practices.

"And did you submit the document with the filing clerk in the manner requested?" continued Suvorov

"Yes, I'm pretty sure I did all that", Eisenstein was starting to feel a bit foolish

"What about the cover note. Did that properly reference the contents of the document to ensure that it would be filed in the proper place?" Suvorov had asked this question so many times before that it was getting all too common.

"Yes, yes I'm sure" said Eisenstein getting ever more flustered. "It's just that the students can't find it and I've been to the archives recently and it isn't there"

"Well all I can suggest is that the clerk has not got round to ordering the files", Suvorov said. "Give it another day and come to me again if you have any problems". Why he added this last comment he didn't know. For one thing, if there were further problems, the other professors would always bother him with further questions if they were unable to fathom his simple system.

"Thank you, kindly", said Eisenstein and, as he left "..and can I take this opportunity to say that the archives are very well organised and provide a valuable service to the university"

"Yes, yes", said Suvorov. "Now if you don't mind I have other matters to attend to".
 

Lord Durham

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It was early in the morning when little Durham walked into the massive class room belonging to Professor Eisenstein.

Being one of the first in, the place was quite empty. The imposing Professor was seated behind his ornate oak desk, face buried in some papers. Timidly the lad walked up to the desk and placed a brightly polished apple on it. The professor looked up and said, "You can access those maps now, boy. Take a seat."

Durham climbed the steps of the theater-like classroom to take his seat. Young Bloomfield had just arrived and looked at him derisively, whispering, "Brown nose."

"Am not!"

"Are so!"

"Am not!"

"Are so!"

"You're an arsehole!"

"Am not"

"Are so!"

And on it went...
 
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Sgt. Bloomfield

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Young Bloomfield whacked Durham over the head with his edition of the Complete Works of Aristotle In Large Print With Numerous Colour Plates and Annotations. That shut Durham up for a while. He would regain consciousness in time for the lesson, Bloomfield thought. And he really didn't have time for Durham's pranks right now. Bloomfield was busily carving a hard-wood cavalry saber under his desk. He had to hurry, too. He had challenged Rictus to a duel tomorrow at dawn.
 
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"For heavens sake boys, can you not start to act like the young men that you are or will you insist on behaving like small schoolboys". Eisenstein simply despaired when he thought "and these are Prussia's finest young men who will take up the reins of government in future"

"Rictus, wait. Sit over there on the right. I don't want you sitting next to Bloomfield. I've heard the stories so we'd better keep you two apart"

"What's this Durham? Asleep in lectures?"

"What, er?" Durham stammered rubbing his head where a large bump had grown. "No, I was just contemplating one of those passages from Winkelstein's diaries". A chorus of jeers met with this remark.

"Well settle down. We have to continue with the Prusso-Kurland war story. Where was I up to?" Eisenstein said as he flicked through his papers.

"Pisskoff just declared war on Teutonic Order", Bloomfield shouted out. The class erupted in laughter allowing Rictus the chance to launch a well aimed clump of writing paper at Bloomfield's ear. Bloomfield glared back and mouthed "Dawn. Tomorrow."

"Alright boys. Yes here we are"

A royal marriage was celebrated in February with our distant cousins in Lorraine. I've no doubt we'll hear little from them but we make sure to remind our prince to write to the happy couple regularly. Hopefully these letters will give us a little useful intelligence from the region. Admittedly, intelligence is not a word I would readily use in conjunction with his highness but at least his tutor was well qualified in the job of educating imbeciles. In the meantime I must talk to Stettin about progress in our campaign against Kurland.

As Spring arrives, our cannon have still not been completed although I get the encouraging news that the city of Kurland may be softening as their walls are starting to show signs of weakening from the Prussian mining activity. We are assured that the city will soon break and we will have our prize.

Surprising, we hear in May that Pskov continues their siege of the Teutonic capital. Court is unable to suppress its joy, in spite of the fact that we have our own war to fight. After many months, our are finally completed and sent to Kurland for the final push before a second winter.

We also find additional funds to send a second merchant to Venice.

By summer, Stettin is justly proud of his cannon as they show their effect after continual bombardment. During four months last summer the walls held firm (3) while in two months since the guns arrived they had been badly breached (to -3). He wants to press the advantage but I argue against any rash moves which would cost more Prussian lives. We decide in the end to continue the bombardment.

I hear also that our merchant of Venice writes back to tell me of business being brisk but competitive. Well call me genius but I did choose to send him there although didn't expect him to produce the same yield in a year that we spent on sending him there in the first place. I thank our lord for making me so intuitive as well as for possessing so great a mind.

Finally, at the end of September, the city of Kurland capitulates and they offer to surrender. Our envoy hands them our demands for the full annexation. In order to ensure a smooth hand-over, some of the key figures are removed from the city to await a decision as to where they might be relocated. In honour of his service, in commanding the royal army, Stettin is granted a large estate by the sea in our newly acquired lands and Brandenburg takes control of the main army force in Kurland which is now put back to stand by as I am forced to turn my attention to our debt commitments.

After examining our accounts I realise how profitable the war has been for us. Our monthly income had since escalated to over 4 ducats per months, largely from the trade tarrifs from Kurland. Unfortunately, most of the Kurland merchants disappear but it seems that the costs of the war, particularly the loan interest payments, were more than covered by our gains and we can now see ourselves as a minor force in the region.

For some reason my deputy has sent another merchant to Novgorod which I only find out when news arrives from the latter that he has successfully established himself there in the wool trade. Why, oh why must he continue to do this. Some time he will make a mistake and I will have no choice but to find alternative employment for him. For the time being I call him to one side to reprimand him for being just a little too "fortunate".

The prince, while I am doing this, sends a message to the Austrians proposing a royal marriage. Unfortunately, it seems that the Austrians were less than impressed about our war against Kurland and they reject the prince's offer. Well next time perhaps he will discuss these things with me first as I would have assuredly advised him against such a move at this time

Brandenburg, in the meantime, reports that he has received a request from ships in the Baltic who wish to return to port. It is a pleasant surprise to hear that Kurland possessed a navy. The warship and 2 transport ships are admitted to harbour in Eastern Prussia.


The professor put down the papers and adjusted his spectacles. Viewing the hall he continued. "Here we see the successful conclusion of the war which, in one move has more than doubled the lands, population and income of Prussia. The impact of this on the Prussian economy cannot be underestimated. In simple military terms, Prussia now had twice the capacity it had a year before. It had a navy and a rich trading province to provide much needed income so vital to the vibrant growing nation"

"Of course, let us make no mistake. Prussia was not, at this time, strong: only stronger. As we will see, it would be later wars that would be able to show Prussia as a real fighting force in the region. Even now, the Teutonic Order to the north possessed a fighting force twice the size of Prussia's while Poland's armies would outnumber Prussia's by over 10 to 1."

"That's all for today", Eisenstein brought the lesson to a close. "If you can read up the notes, I want you to consider what impact did the war and peace have on Prussia. Look at this not just from a territorial viewpoint but also other factors such as the economic and diplomatic perspective."

"Any questions?"
 

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Storey's head just cleared the top of his desk at the back of the room as he silently peered intently around the classroom. Professor Eisenstein was busy talking about the economics of someplace which didn't interest Storey in the least. What interested him was the back of Bloomfield's head. Such an inviting target was causing Storey's hand to twitch. He had decided that a left handed attack was the way to go. He knew from many hours practice that the counter spin caused by the left handed release would cause the victum to mistake the direction that the spitball had come from. As professor Eisenstein turned his back to the class Storey with a quick movement of his arm that was a mere blur to the untrained eye flicked a ball at Bloomfields head. The ball struck behind Bloomfield's left ear and lodged there. Bloomfield spun around ready to go to war. Storey looking as helpful as he could manage motioned with his head toward Rictus. Bloomfield glared at Rictus and said "Tomorrow at dawn".
 

Lord Durham

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Professor Eisenstein turned around at the sound of the spitball's wet splat.

"Bloomfield. What's that in your ear?"

Bloomfield glared at Rictus, then dislodged the wad of paper. "Nothing sir."

"Nothing is it? I'll show you nothing! Young man you will remain after class and write 'I was born an idiot' one hundred times on the blackboard."

"But..."

"Not a word. Durham! What is it?"

"Professor. After the war how did the other nations view us diplomatically, considering we had annexed another country and all? Wasn't that usually frowned upon?"

"Now there's a good lad."
 

Sgt. Bloomfield

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Originally posted by Lord Durham
"Professor. After the war how did the other nations view us diplomatically, considering we had annexed another country and all? Wasn't that usually frowned upon?"

"Now there's a good lad."
Bloody teacher's pet. :rolleyes:
 

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The Blackboard

I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot. I was born an idiot.
I was born an idiot.

But I will not die an idiot.

Now, Lord Durham here, on the other hand...
 

Sgt. Bloomfield

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Originally posted by WhiteHojo
Sheer literary genius :)
I always knew that my posts in the Chamberpot, the Bastard, and the Who Killed CC threads were just paltry exercises, clumsy first steps, fumbling attempts before that one, crowning Blackboard Post. Thanks for seeing it so clearly, WhiteHojo.
 

Lord Durham

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Dear God Rictus, you never cease to amaze me with the lengths you go to entertain yourself... :p