The Horthy Maddening (Hungary 1936)

[HungaryForBlood]

Budapest, January 1, 1936, midnight

His Serene Highness The Regent Of The Kingdom Of Hungary, Admiral Miklós Horthy is drawn back from his wine-assisted drowsiness by a swelling of cheers.

"Happy New Year!" exclaims Gömbös Gyula, Prime Minister of Hungary.

Jack Straw, the embodiment of the past year's misfortunes and regrets, is set aflame as the room begins to sing a slightly-drunken rendition of the Hungarian national anthem. The smoke fills the room, and Horthy finds himself nodding off...

"... A múltat s jövendőt!"

Horthy jolts back into consciousness. The room's occupants, having just completed the anthem, are busy clinking glasses and wishing each other good new years. The Admiral stands up and stomps the floor once, twice. Two dozen bureaucrats and nobles turn to him, silenced.

"My friends," he says, in his reserved yet commanding soprano, and also in Hungarian, "I have had a dream. Too long has Hungary been the boring second cousin of modern Europe, dismissed as impotent and vaguely ill-tempered. Too long have we spent year after year content with a fraction of the glory we held not even thirty years ago. We made some poor choices back then, without a doubt; chief among them, we trusted Germany. But a day of reckoning is approaching. I have seen it. And if we are to turn this worldwide conflagration into a profitable venture for the Magyar people, we will need to be prepared."

The advisors and ministers are shocked. It has been years since the Regent has proposed anything other than a subtle, measured approach to world politics. But nobody can question his loyalty, competence, and sobriety. Well, maybe his sobriety.

Horthy continues. "So I'm making some changes around here. First things first; who's in charge of the Army these days?"

The crowd exchanges glances; the Regent has little in the way of actual power, and whatever he thinks he's going to do is probably not legal. But his little speech was right. Hungarians were tired of the same old second-rate European backwater lifestyle. And if anyone could do something about it, it was Horthy, the head of a kingdom with no king, an Admiral with neither a navy nor a coastline. So their glances settle on on the Army Minister, who raises his hand slightly. Horthy approaches him.

"What's your name, son?"

"Er... I am István Shvoy, sir," he replies.

"Good! I'll call you Bubbles. Now tell me, Bubbles, What do you bring to the table?"

"I... Well, I'm Chief of the Army, and uh..."

"Bubbles. Come on. I need some reason to keep you around. In the New Hungary, there is no room for deadweight. What have you done that other people cannot claim?"

Shvoy stands up straight. "Sir, I have kept our Army up-to-date on the latest in artillery tactics! The men, they do not lose their artillery-using effectiveness quite so quickly in the absence of any actual artillery combat!"

Horthy raises an eyebrow. "Uh. Okay. Let me ask you something. How many brigades of artillery do we have, Bubbles?"

"Er," he replies, glancing nervously around the room. "None, sir."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Hey, who does production oversight around here?" calls out Horthy. He is pointed towards Tihamér Fabinyi, Armament Minister.

"Okay, Tea-Time, do we have any artillery brigades in production at the moment?"

"N-No, sir," replies Tihamér.

"Good. You're both fired."

The room erupts in gasps. Gömbös attempts to defuse the situation.

"Sir, you can't-"

"Gumby! There you are, you fascist bastard. I'm putting you in charge of the army, okay?"

"Er... uhm, okay. But I'm still the Prime Minister?"

"Oh, yeah, I couldn't change you even if I wanted to. Now, who's our security guy?"

[Several awkward hours pass...]

"... and that just about does it. Any questions?" Horthy looks around a few moments and ignores the raised hand of Rudolf "Rudy" Andorka, the just-appointed Head of Intelligence. "Okay. I'm'a go to sleep. See you in the morning for your reports."

 

[HungaryForBlood]

January 1, 1936, Budapest, 10:00

The thin curtains provide only a token defense against the soft morning sunlight. Horthy sits up in his bed. "Gumby!" he yells.

Nobody responds. So Horthy tosses his sheets aside and pads out into the hall.

"Where is Gömbös?" he asks a passing servant.

"The Prime Minister is awaiting your presence in the Great Hall with the other ministers, Sir. Would you like me to relay a message to them that you'll be delayed?"

"No, no," snaps Horthy. "I'm--"

He interrupts himself and screws up his face, adopting a tense expression which is only relieved by the momentary arrival of an enormous morning fart.

"I'm fine," he continues. "Have Marta bring my toast to the hall."

---

"I'm here, I'm here!" announces Horthy as he strides into the Great Hall, his sleeping gown flowing behind him. The ministers appear uncomfortable, perhaps feeling a bit overdressed. "And I'm ready for action! What do we got? Let's start with you, Rudy."

The Head of Intelligence stands up and reads from a paper. "Sir, I... we have nearly twenty spies abroad performing heroic work for the Kingdom. We also have a number of men working within the Kingdom--"

"A number?" interrupts Horthy. "Which number?"

"Er... two, sir. And they, uh, they're searching for enemy spies in our borders."

"Oh yeah? They find any?"

"Not as of yet, sir. We'll double our efforts?"

"How about in Yugoslavia? Anyone there?"

Rudy flips through his reports. "Uhm... yes. We do have one man there."

"Alright, Rudy, here's what we're doing. You are sending every agent you can muster either to Yugoslavia or across our fair nation. Those who stay here are to convince the populace that we need to go there; those who go there are to carry around large life-size cutouts of tanks and make the country look more dangerous. Okay?"

"Sir, may I ask why--"

"Okay, next! Gömbös, show me that map."

Gyula Gömbös slides a map over. "This is our current military position, what we know of foreign troop positioning, and you'll see our rightful lands currently being held by foreign scum has been labeled."

"Yes, I see that. Excellent work."

Horthy peers at the map. "What are these armies in Budapest? How many men do we have in the city?"

"there are 18 brigades over a number of divisions, sir, as well as five command units. And, uh, a couple planes."

László Tomor, Chief of the Air Force, butts in. "I'd just like to point out that when it says one plane, it means a whole wing. So it's not like... yeah. You know what I'm... okay, never mind."

Horthy stares at László for a moment.

He continues to stare.

After ten minutes, Horthy's toast arrives.

And he continues to stare.

"Oh!" he exclaims. "Where's the jam? Also, build a new plane for this man. And move all those armies down south."

Gömbös looks perplexed. "All? Like, every brigade in the city?"

"Yep, all of them. Here." Horthy draws some arrows on the map and slides it back.

(this is just an artist's interpretation, not the real thing)

Gömbös isn't sure what to think. On the one hand, he's all for military operations. On the other hand, he doesn't actually consider the Czechoslovakians harmless. He also thinks he can get Hitler to assist Hungary in reclaiming some of the Slovakian lands. But now is not the time to rub Horthy the wrong way. Surely the Admiral would come to his senses soon enough.

"I'll... relay your orders right away, sir. I would note that most of these divisions are only reserve units, though. They're only at quarter-strength."

"Well, fix it."

"Fix it? You mean mobilize the national army?"

"Yeah, whatever. Fix it."

"Sir, that'll require a lot of men and time and resources, and the buildup will be seen as--"

"I SAID FIX IT."

"Yes, sir..." Gömbös looks down at his papers for a while.

"Ok. Who can tell me what we're researching these days? Do we have a minister for that stuff or what?"

The room is quiet.

"Okay, so... any internal projects. Gumby? New weapons development? Lassie? New planes?" Gömbös and Tomor shake their heads and Horthy looks disappointed.

"Anyone? Come on, really? Do we have some scientists or anything?"

Gömbös clears his throat. "Well, we uh... we have a portion of our budget funding some scientific endeavours."

"Oh good. What are they studying?"

"Well, it looks like, uh... nothing, sir."

Horthy's eyes narrow. "Nothing? We're paying them to do nothing?"

"To be fair, we're not paying very much, sir..."

"Alright, look. How many projects do you think we could fund?"

"One. Maybe."

"You gotta be shitting me!" exclaims Horthy. "What's the hold-up?"

"Our national priorities haven't been entirely pro-education, and we--"

"Fix it."

"Hrm?" Gömbös is ever more flustered. "I can't just--"

"Yeah you can. Look, put as much money as you can into education. We need to be able to fund more projects. Okay, now how many can we afford?"

Gömbös looks around the room. Nothing had changed. "Uhm.... two?"

"Two! Excellent. See, this is government in action, fellas! Alright, figure out rockets and tanks."

"Rockets... and tanks." Gömbös sighs. "Okay, got it, whatever."

 

[HungaryForBlood]

"Now!" says Horthy, turning towards the Armament Minister clearly pleased to be making such progress. "What are we producing?"

Imre Oltványi gulps a bit. "I've contacted each of our contracted factories, sir, and uh... we have... well, nothing. In production, I mean. Well except for those planes you just mentioned!! But those will take a while. We can only devote a couple factories to war production, and, uh... sir?"

Horthy glares. "Ok, Re-Re. Gonna say this once. FFFFFFFFFFFFFIIIIIIIIIXXXXXXXX ITTTTTTTTTTT."

"Our economy just isn't mobilized for--" Imre is stopped by Horthy's widening eyes. "We'll mobilize as fully as possible by tomorrow, sir. If I may ask... what would you like to produce?"

Horthy considers. "Gumby! What do you think we could use in the Army?"

"Uhm, well," replies the slightly power-hungry Prime Minister and Chief of the Army, knowing that if he plays his cards right he could get a lot of nice things done. "I would suggest investing in some tactical bombe--"

"Garrisons. We need garrisons!" says the Admiral, having forgotten that he'd asked Gömbös anything at all. "And be sure to give them a crash course in Yugoslavian."

Imre is making some calculations on a notepad. "We can produce two divisions of two garrison brigades each at a time. But the interceptors you want would have to wait..."

"Mmm. Nope. I need a surplus of war supplies, and I need those planes."

"We're also going to need to reinforce all our divisions sir, if you're serious about mobilizing the--"

"IF I'M SERIOUS!?!??! Re-Re... you get a pass because it's your first day and I have a feeling our industrial capacity will see a healthy increase on your watch. But never question my sincerity again."

"Y-yes sir," whispers Imre. "So how should I--"

"We don't need toothbrushes. Or blankets. I mean, I do. But the people can make do with hand-me-downs for a while."

"Your wish is my command, sir, but let me just inform you that after a while , people upset with the government won't want to work very hard, and we'll end up losing productivity... but who cares about them, right, ha ha." Imre is looking awfully pale, and he shuts up.

"You guys," scolds Horthy. "All you gotta do is what I say. You end up doing it anyway, so why you gotta make it difficult. Let's try to get through this meeting without any other unpleasantries. Gumby, talk to me about our draft."

Gömbös rolls with it. "We have a, uh... three year draft, sir. Lotsa men."

"Great. How well are we training them?"

No use lying here. It sounds like the big man wants numbers, not quality. "Not too well. They can march and, like, wiggle under things. Most of 'em can hit a target now and again."

"Good. And how are we treating the people?"

This one was a little harder. Gömbös isn't sure whether Horthy would be on some sorta civil rights kick, but... well, it's always worth a try. "We're repressing them. Yeah, they aren't doin' much without our say-so."

"Alright!" enthuses Horthy, slapping his knees. "That's what I like to hear. Anything else?"

New Foreign Minister Gusztáv Hennyey speaks up. "Sir, we could benefit from some trade with other--"

"Oh my GOD are you serious?" screams Horthy. "Trade? How goddamn boring can you be? Just deal with it, okay? We need to have everything and be profitable. You think you can handle that, G-man? Okay... meeting adjourned. I'll see you all after our men get to the border with Yugo..."--he spits disdainfully--"slavia."

 

[gyozelemlg]

Good start and great writing!
Éljen a haza!
How about a little espionage manipulating the reputation/threat level of the evil scum in the South?
Perhaps we could also afford another research project bringing infantry weapons and industry more up to date?
Anyway I am glad that SOMEONE FINALLY IS TAKING CHARGE, we need somebody TO DARE DO SOMETHING.
( GB Shaw, St Joan: We need some mad people now. Look where the sane have landed us!)

 

[Myth]

Excellent, another Hungarian AAR. And one that seems to have a nice comedic bent to it, this is good.

 

[telesien]

Another comedy AAR? Continue like this and I will be forced to stop reading books

 

[HungaryForBlood]

gyozelemlg: We are doing just that with the espionage! Horthy's having the spies in Yugoslavia wander around with large cutouts of tanks to make them look more dangerous. Unfortunately, Horthy isn't interested in research other than tanks and rockets. He's a volatile man-- and his maddening has only just begun. Welcome!

Myth: I'm glad you're enjoying it! This first part, setting everything up, is always the most tedious. Soon we can start with some real excitement!

telesien: information wishes to be free! this is the future of literature! Welcome!

-----

Just to be clear, this is not meant to be a game wherein all the right choices are made. Horthy is becoming a senile old man, and his judgment will only get worse. His ministers will do what they can to keep the country intact, but... this may be the beginning of the end.

 

[unmerged(87183)]

This is AWESOME so far!

Best laughs I've had in a long time!

Subscribed!

As an Old Admiral he's got to be interested in some Battleships and Destroyers, right?! As his old age he might still think Hungary has a coast!

 

[Lordban]

I have to say I like your Horthy

 

[HungaryForBlood]

[Interim update. A big one tomorrow, but I don't have time to assemble it tonight.]

May 16, 1936, Budapest, 11:00:

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Are we--zzzzzzzz..."

"Thank Christ. He's been doing this for three months." Gömbös rubs his temples. "I swear this guy's gonna be the death of me... if these damn kidneys don't get me first. How are we doing in Yugoslavia?"

Intelligence Chief Andorka shifts in his seat and takes a sip of his tea. "We put a guy there. He's... well, to be honest, he's still trying to get together enough paint and cardboard to make a realistic-looking tank cutout."

Gömbös furrows his brow and stirs his coffee. "Weren't you just saying there were five agents internally? I thought you were supposed to divide them evenly."

"Yeah, well, I'm in charge of intelligence, not math, alright? SOR-ry."

"Whatever. This whole plan is crazy anyway. We're nowhere near able to pull off a realistic declaration of war."

"Does he know yet?" asks Andorka.

"No. He still thinks we're on the way to the front."

"... Still? It's been--"

"Several months, yes. But if we take him there he's not going to give a good rat's ass about proper procedure, world opinion, Hungarian lives, or any of it. He'd probably run across the border naked and waving a sabre. We're just lucky he forgets everything every time he wakes up from a nap."

"What if he starts remembering?"

"Then God help us all. Hey, pass the cream?"

"Sure. Anyway, I gotta go and--oh, hey, Gus."

Gusztáv Hennyey, Foreign Minister and Chief of Staff, enters the Royal Break Room as Andorka leaves. "Yeah, hey," he mutters.

"Whoa, what's wrong?" asks Gömbös. "The Soviet deal fall through?"

"Hrm? Oh, no. We have a surplus of everything except crude oil now. But uh... that last gap to fill won't be my responsibility."

"What do you mean?"

"I was fired."

Gömbös steals a glance at the dozing Horthy. "What? But he's..."

"I don't know how he did it. There was a note under all my papers this morning. It might have been there for weeks, I dunno. But it's signed and sealed. I'm just chief of staff now. The Foreign Ministry's going to István."

"Shvoy?!?"

"No, no. Csáky."

Gömbös takes a deep breath. "That's not good. People can't stand that guy! Anything we do is gonna look worse than it actually is as long as he's the face we put on it. And he's such a goddamn sycophant."

Hennyey shrugs. "I guess my foreign contacts won't mean much for our intel once we're at war like the big man wants."

"You really think he thought this through? He can't even remember where the bathroom is half the time, and when he does, he forgets why he goes there."

"I don't know," Hennyey shrugs again, mixing some hot chocolate. "Maybe he's more alert than he seems."

"Hrm. Maybe." Gömbös' eyes narrow as he glares at Horthy's napping form.

"I heard that," says Horthy.

 

[Myth]

Maybe he is more alert than he seems!

 

[unmerged(87183)]

He heard it all!

 

[telesien]

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

I feel like that ALL THE TIME!! Great update, which helped me a lot while waiting for Usain Bolt's next run

 

[HungaryForBlood]

Maj. von Mauser: Glad you're liking it! You're right that he should be excited about boats. I wonder what tonight's chapter might hold............

Lordban: I like this interpretation of him too! Just look at that portrait of him. He's adorable. Thanks for reading!

 

[HungaryForBlood]

As the days passed, Gömbös became more wary of Horthy's orders. The man seemed to know what he was doing, but he refused to explain the significance of his actions. He had Marta, his morning servant, appointed as Minster of Paint and Crayons, and immediately tasked her with doing the whole palace up in cyan. It was a horrid design choice, and Air Force Chief Tomor wouldn't even attend staff meetings anymore, for fear of blindness. The Admiral had also been seen more and more commonly reading nautical magazines. While he had always been a boating enthusiast, he had never been much for reading, and this newfound passion seemed to Gömbös like something that could be dangerous.

In the meantime, Horthy's strongarming of the leadership back in January had produced unforeseen dividends. By mobilizing the economy on a whim, he had whipped the people up into a frenzy. There was a new nationalist fervor sweeping the nation, and every little Hungarian boy and girl had Horthy-branded lunchboxes. The schools were rolling in state money, the papers were only a little bit censored, and while there was a general sense of repression among the people, most of them felt that they didn't really have any reason to go out after dark anyway. They got upset for a few months, while production was geared toward outfitting new garrison units and mobilizing the existing infantry divisions, but Armament Minister Imre Oltványi made sure to convert factories back to their original purposes as soon as they had fulfilled Horthy's orders, to prevent the fomentation of too much dissent.

On May 26, a wire arrived from Italy, triumphantly announcing the defeat of Ethiopia in the Italo-Abyssinian War.

When Horthy read of this, he was briefly reminded of his own war preparations, and only a very, very soothing foot massage from Hennyey could calm him down.

But the morning of June 29 saw another wire, this time from Spain. A civil war had erupted there, and several other nations had decided to use the Spanish conflict as a proxy for their own differences.

For the next two weeks, Horthy could barely be contained. The only thing holding him back was Gömbös' reminders that there were still garrison divisions being trained--for some reason this kept him at bay. But late July 12, a hapless young messenger arrived at the palace. The palace guard was in the middle of a rotation, Horthy was skipping about the palace courtyard angrily, and the messenger saw no reason not to deliver the news directly to the Admiral: the garrisons were ready to be deployed.

Horthy stopped mid-skip and glared at the boy.

"GÖMBÖS!!!!" he yelled.

----

July 13, 1936, outskirts of Budapest, 00:00:

Joszef Széll, Minister of Security, is incredulous. "He thinks you'll be able to command a division? You're the Chief of the entire Army! AND the Prime Minister!"

"I don't know what he's thinking. I don't know that he's thinking. But honestly, it'll be nice to get out there, do a little legwork. I need to get out more if I'm going to beat this kidney crap. It's just a garrison anyway."

"Yeah, what's up with that? You're marching on enemy territory with those guys? All they know how to do is hide in bunkers."

"Dude, lay off. There's gonna be infantry there too. They'll take care of any problems, but honestly, from what I hear, there isn't a single Yugo division out there."

Széll just shakes his head. "This is insane. We can't just declare war. I mean, I got no love for the Yugos, but we're just inviting trouble if we go stirring up shit now. I'll admit that we're in a lot better shape than we were at the beginning of the year, but we're committing every man we have to the southern border. Assuming the Yugos put up any resistance at all, we're going to be completely vulnerable if anyone takes umbrage at our actions. I don't know if you noticed, but Europe isn't feeling very mutually respectful these days."

Gömbös snickers quietly and watches the landscape slip by from the window of the car. When it comes right down to it, Horthy is doing everything right. At this rate, the people will be all for an alliance with the Germans by year's end. And if this ridiculous attack works--and why shouldn't it?--Hungary will reclaim the Bácska region, and national pride and confidence will soar. As long as Horthy doesn't do anything too stupid, the stage will be set for a Gömbös takeover in 1937. He remembers he's supposed to be involved in a conversation.

"Yeah, I mean, I get what you're saying, but Germany says they'll support us reclaiming our land. And Italy--"

"Wait, Germany said that? When?"

"Er... I saw it in the papers. Anyway, the point is, We got nothing to worry about from them; and with them as a buffer, we don't have to worry about France or Britain either. They aren't gonna risk provoking Hitler. Hey, do you have the general deployment map?"

"Uh," Széll mumbles as he reaches inside his coat, "yeah. Not a whole lot of complexity there."

"It'll work, though. We're taking over just as a show of force, right? I mean, we only want Bácska."

Széll throws up the "innocence" hands. "I got no idea, man. Horthy doesn't tell me anything. Says that as the Minister of Security, it's important that I know as few state secrets as possible."

"Uh, what?" Gömbös can't help himself from chuckling.

"Yeah, says I'm the first person that they will go after if they want to know anything."

"Dare I ask?"

"No idea, man. No idea. I'm gonna try to get some sleep. Big day tomorrow..."

"Yeah. Sleep well."

 

[HungaryForBlood]

September 25, 1936, Budapest, 18:30:

Tomor, holding a hand up to his brow to attempt to block the searing colors of the palace, enters the room.

"Ah ha! Pluperfect!" exclaims Horthy. "With Lassie here, we can begin. Can everybody see?"

Muted groans of affirmation fill the room.

"I have acquired this delightful technology from our friends in"--here he pauses to spit disdainfully--"Germany. It is what they call a 'Schleidesprojektor,' or, you know, something like that. With it, you shall all be able to enjoy our vacation pictures together!"

Széll raises a hand. "Do you mean our war pictures, sir?"

"Ah yes, quite right! War! A vacation for the soul. Shall we begin? Gumby, take it away!" Gömbös stands up with a deep sigh and Horthy hands him a little control button. The Admiral quietly whispers some apparently quite obvious instructions on its usage, as Gömbös waves him away quickly.

"Okay," he says. "Let's get this over with."

He clicks the button and after a brief whirring noise, a picture is projected on a canvas hung from the ceiling.

"Our initial advance was met with little resistance. But there was one woefully underpowered division to meet us in the east, and they were kind enough to give us our first military victory in decades on July 14. Hurray." Click.

"As we continued to advance, the only border province that gave us real trouble was Subotica, whose piteous infantry divisions were being assisted by a wing of the JKRV's tactical bombers. Our good buddy Tomor here had been thoughtful enough to send the planes of our own glorious Légierő to the front in case of just such an event, and so it was over the sleepy town of Mórahalom that our air force saw its first combat."

Tomor lifts an arm in a half-hearted cheer.

Horthy is impatient. "Come on, carry on with it!"

"My pleasure, sir." Click.

"In the west, our objectives were to occupy the ridiculously-named cities of Zagreb and Ljubljana."

A catarrhic chuckle fills the room and everyone turns toward Horthy. "Loob-what? Say that again, Gumby!"

"Ljubljana."

"Loo-bana?"

"Ljubljana."

"Blue llama?"

"Blue-?... no! Look, it's simple. Ljub... Ljana."

"Lee-oo-blana?"

"Yeah, yeah, almost! You know what? That was perfect. Point is, we took Zagreb with almost no resistance, and it looked like Ljubljana wouldn't be much more difficult." Click.

"And in the east, our, uh, illustrious Regent's primary objective was Belgrade. So while a few corps..."--Gombos glances to the side--"... including my boys in the 47th, uh, while we performed some flanking actions, a few divisions were sent to storm the capital."

"Next one next one next one!" yells Horthy.

Gombos shakes his head a little. Click.

"And here, you'll--"

"WOOO! That's me, you guys! You guys, look, that's me!!" Horthy is excited.

"Yeah, here you'll see our brave leader hurling himself into battle against a regiment of motorized cavalry. It was... quite courageous. Corps involved in other critical operations were dispatched forthwith to, uh, watch him defeat the enemy handily." Click.

"In the east, we successfully took Belgrade in the evening of August 3. The Yugos quickly relocated their capital to Sarajevo, but they were panicking. Meanwhile, their armies on the Romanian border were on the run from the Fearsome Forty-Seventh! And, you know, some infantry guys and stuff." Click.

"And back on the central front, the infantrymen of the 13th came to, uh, help the Regent clean up."

"I totally had them, no problem."

"I know, sir." Click.

And in the west, the defenders of Ljubljana were sticking it out to the last man. The straightforward method wasn't going to work, so--"

"What'd I tell you?"

"What's that, sir?"

"What did I tell you when I told you how to win?"

"Sir, I--"

"WHAT DID I TELL YOU?" Horthy is livid at the insubordination.

Gömbös sighs. "The Regent, upon consulting, suggested I 'fix it.'"

"And it worked!!"

"Yeah."

Széll speaks up. "How did you break that city? I never heard about that operation."

Gömbös, who would rather just go to dinner and then bed, sighs. Click.

"I had the generals perform a wide flanking maneuver, which also cut northwestern Yugoslavia off from their supply lines."

"Yeah, how'd that work out for you??" Rudolf Andorka, has a shit-eating grin on his face.

Gömbös is red-faced. "Uhm." Click.

"Well, that flanking maneuver was poorly executed, and--"

"Oh, certainly not poorly planned, right?" Andorka gives Széll a high-five.

"Poorly EXECUTED, leaving occupied Zagreb undefended but for one of our garrison divisions. It folded and the Yugos retook it, even as the tide started to turn in Ljubljana."

"Loobielana!"

"Yes, good work, sir." Click.

"SPLIT!" Horthy shoots up, eyes wide.

"Uhm? Sir?"

"It's... it's beautiful..." The Regent approaches the canvas, looking hungrily at the Yugoslavian port of Split. He approaches the canvas with his tongue extended, but as he draws closer, his head blocks the portion of the projection containing the city.

"WHERE DID IT GO!?" he shrieks, and flies backwards, landing on his bottom. With his fall, that portion of the projection returns, and he is calmed. He gets up, brushes his pants off, and sits back down.

After a brief period of silence, Gömbös decides it's best to just pretend nothing happened.

"So... by September 14, we had control of Belgrade and Ljubljana, and we were advancing on Sarajevo. The area around Ljubljana needed to be cleared before we could retake Zagreb, but we knew it was of the utmost importance to secure their important cities." Click.

"And on the 21st, the brave men of the 8th Infantry marched into Sarajevo while our men in Zvornik covered their assault by storming the Yugoslavian headquarters." Click.

"But even as our people celebrated in the streets of Budapest, base politics was playing its dirty tricks. SOMEone"--here Gömbös shoots a furious glance at Tomor, who still has his head down, but is clearly smirking a bit--"told the papers that I indulged certain fantasies, which I do NOT, at the pastry shop on St. Istvan Street with the proprietress thereof. And as I was BUSY fighting for the GLORY of Hungary, I was unable to put the ridiculous rumour to rest. So my good-for-nothing deputy gets called onto a radio show, and I don't know what he thinks he's going to gain, but he claims, entirely falsely, that he is complicit in my imaginary late-night adventures, that he drove me there and even participated a few times. Needless to say, he has been fired and then some. I can only hope that none of you fine fellows would be taken in by such desperate accusations. But ANYWAY." Click.

"Our armies had beaten back the foul Yugoslavians, and as we gave them a false sense of superiority by letting them advance by the most minuscule amount onto our own territory, we retook Zagreb, and with it, any support the government still had from its people. And early the next morning..." Click.

"... a messenger arrived with an unconditional surrender. So the Hungarian-Yugoslavian War has come to a swift and decisive end, and we shall reclaim those lands which are rightfully ours! The reduced Yugoslavia shall never threaten us again!"

"No Yugoslavia," Horthy growls.

"Er... What's that, sir?"

"We take it. All."

"... You mean annex the nation, sir? But we..."

István Csáky, Foreign Minister, gets up and runs out of the room cackling maniacally. Gömbös watches him and then turns back to Horthy, who is nodding. "It's all mine," he says. "Split is mine. MINE."

"What's... so important about Split, sir?"

A grin begins to develop on Horthy's face. It grows and grows, beyond what seems humanly possible. It pauses briefly at its widest, and then returns swiftly to a faint frown. "I'm bored with this. Just take care of it. I'm going to get some goulash. Anyone wanna come with?"

Nobody answers, so Horthy shrugs and departs the room. The remaining minsters exchange glances, and Gömbös is very worried indeed.

 

[MastahCheef117]

Brilliant;

"WHERE DID IT GO?!?!?!"

 

[Myth]

Well, Hungary's certainly tripled in size, more or less. Who's next?

 

[unmerged(87183)]

Muahaha, smack those Yugoslavians Down!

And Split!!! SPLIT!!!!!!

But Yeah, Hungary has Tripled in size.

 

[Ghery]

Absloutely following this!