War Without End

[Estonianzulu]

War Without End
Serbia in the Great War

The story of one nation against an Empire

The Characters (in no particular order)

1. Alexander Obrenovic-Former King
2. Petar Karadjordjevic-Current King
3. Nikola Pašic-Political leader in Serbia
4. Wladimir Giesl Freiherr von Gieslingen-Austrian representative in Serbia
5. Dragutin Dimitrijevic- Leader of the Black Hand
6. Gavrilo Princip- Assassin
7. A Soldier- A Serbian soldier
8. Prince Alexander-Crown Prince
9. Zivojin Misic-Serbian General
10. Peter Vasic-Serbian Officer
11. Radomir Putnik- Serbian Chief of Staff
12. Andrija Pesic- Serbian Foreign Minister
13. Dimitar Kasza- Serbian Economic Minister
14. Teodor Milosovic- Serbian General
15. Tomislav Hracovec- Serbian General
16. Dimitry Drasovic- Serbian General
17. Rasim Steponavich- Serbian General
18. Cedomir Jivanovic- Serbian General
19. Petar Mijatovic- Serbian General
20. Milo- a Messenger
21. Alexei Brusilov- A Russian General
22. Jozsef Rigova- Serbian ambassador to Bulgaria
23. Borislav Ljalic- Serbian Ambassador to Greece
24. Tsar Ferdinand I- Tsar of Bulgaria
25. Nikola Zhekov- Bulgarian Commander-in-chief
26 Aleksander Manilov- Bulgarian Prime Minister
27. Woodrow Wilson- President of the United States
28. Eleutherios Metaxis- Greek native of Nis
29. Petar- Forman of a factory in Skopje
30. Aleksander Cubrilovic- Minister of Trade
31. Feodor- A soldier
32. Srg. Nikoli- a NCO
33. Boris- A factory worker
34. Georgi- A factory worker
35. Victor- A Serbian factory worker
36. Vinko Aleksanderson- minister of education
37. Mister Kuznetov- A Russian
38. Radmilo- A Serbian businessman (Minister of Industry)
39. Josef Marovic- Minister of Intelligence.
40. M. Hartwig- Russian Minister for Serbia
41. Plamen- A Serbian supply officer
42. Vojkan Nikolik- Serbian Minister of War
43. Alexi- A soldier
44. Gregor- A soldier
45. Anton- A soldier
46. Filip- A solider
47. Alen- A royal Guard
48. Vlada Rugova- Minister of the Interior
49. Comrade Brane- Leader of a secret terrorist cell in Skopje
50. Colonel Avram- Aide de camp
51. A homeless man- resident of a park bench in Nis
52. Commander Diotrephes- Leader of the army of Nis

The Settings-
Belgrade- Capital of Serbia
Skopje- A Serbian city
Nis- A Serbian city
Foca- A region on the Serbian border of Austria
Smederova- City to the South of Belgrade
Novi Pazar- City in the South-West of Serbia

Time period- June 28th 1914- December 30 1920
------------------------------------------------------


This is the story of how the greatest war in the history of man began. On June 28th a shot was fired which was heard across the world. It soon put all the great powers of Europe at war.
--


This is a simple 1914 scenario, played as Serbia. And this is not a little guy takes over the world game. The character list is most everyone in the story. I might throw in some other one time characters who are unimportant, or some other famous names (Archduke Ferdinand, Kaiser Wilhelm, etc.)

 

[rich-love]

Wow, what a setup! I'm following this AAR.

 

[Estonianzulu]

June 29th 1914
BELGRADE
15.00 Hours

The knocker on the front door slammed rappidly. A servant ran to open it. The boy on the other side rushed into the building. He was breathing heavily, and stopped just inside the frame to rest.

"Urgent news for Baron Mijatovic." The boy said between gasps for breath. The servant held out his hand, and the boy gave him a letter. The servant turned and left, expecting the boy to show himself out. The letter remained in his hand as he walked silently through the house.

"My lord, a letter from the messenger boy." He said, upon entering the study where Baron Mijatovic sat. The Baron looked up slowly from his book. Seeing the letter he put the book down and stretched in his chair. He extended a robe clad arm and took the letter.

"Hmm, a message from Pašic, what is this about now?" He said, pushing the book aside and turning the letter around. He held out his hand and the servant laid a letter opening knife in it. In a few seconds he unfoulded the paper and read. "Well... that is interesting." He stood up quickly and walked across the room.

"I will need clothes now, I am going to the capital building...

--

16.00 hours

The room was silent. Smoke drifted softly up towards the ceiling. Enough of it had gathered to make the lamps dim. But still the windows were all shut. One man sat fanning himself with papers. No one spoke a word.

"Can we please get this done?" The man fanning himself asked. "I do have more important things to do than sit..." he was cut off as the door to the room swung open and a man walked in.

"No Minister Cubrilovic, you do not have anything better to do." The man who entered said. The assembled men turned their attention towards him. "This matter is of grave international importance."

"Then why did you keep us waiting here for nearly a quarter hour?" Asked Cubrilovic, grabbing a small silken rag from inside his jacket and dabbing his sweating head. Of all the assembled men Cubrilovic was most anxious. He was also the largest of any of the assembled ministers.

"I have many things I have to deal with minister, Im sorry my job is not so easy as yours, but you see my father did not buy my position." Cubrilovic bristled, but remained silent. The man who had just entered took his place at the head of the table.

"What is this all about Pašic?" Asked a uniformed man sitting close to him. "What does this," he said, picking up a paper, "have to do with us? So some crazy Austrian shot the Archduke, I dont see what it has to do with our military."

"General Stepanovich, this has to do with you, and all of you, because of this man." Pašic pushes a picture out onto the table.

"I can not say I recognize him." Stepanovich said, handing the paper to the man on his right. "What say you Kasza?"

"No." Kasza said. His hand went to the cane leaning against the seat. "I do not know him. Should I?" He asked, looking towards Pašic. "Or is there something the Prime Minister is not telling us about this man?"

"This is the man who shot Archduke Franz Ferdinand." Pašic said. He paused. The assembled men waited, and Kasza looked back at the photograph. “His name is Gavrilo Princip, and he is a Serb.”

The silence in the room ended as every man spoke suddenly. Only Stepanovich remained silent, resting his head in his hand. A man began to quiet down the others by pounding on the table in front of him. Pašic watched quietly. Slowly the ministers stopped and looked to the man banging on the table.

“General Mijatovic, this table is quite expensive, so if you would please stop.” Kasza said as the room returned to quiet order.

“Do you mean to tell us that the Austrians are linking this nutcase to the Serbian government?” Cubrilovic asked, his rag now drenched in sweat.

“That is exactly what I am telling you.” Pašic said, running his hand through his long white beard. “What I mean to tell you is that we are in a state of emergency. What is worse is that this Princip is in Austrian hands.”

“Not only is he a fool but he is incompetent as well, I am surprised he was even able to kill the Archduke.” Mijatovic said with a grim smile. Being the youngest and least important man in these meetings, Mijatovic said little, but the little he said usually stirred up a mess. This was no exception.

“Ah you make this a laughing matter! This could mean war! Don’t you understand the consequences of this madman’s actions?” Cubrilovic said, nearly falling from his chair. Mijatovic began to respond but was cut off by Pašic.

“The matter at hand is not what happened, but what we will do about it. The Austrians believe we are complicit, we have no proof to deny this. I have issued a formal statement regarding our stance on terrorists, but it will be ignored I am sure.”

“Mobilize” Steponavich said, bringing his arm down onto the table with the slam. “We must be ready if they come for us.”

“I am afraid General that we can not do that. Mobilizing would admit our guilt, which we can not afford to do. I have however sent word to General Misic about this situation. If the time comes he will be put in command of the Serbian defenses.” Pašic stood up.
“I will give you…”

He was interrupted when Steponavich shouted. “We don’t need that old man, the Balkan wars are over, and this one will be for real. Put me in charge of the defenses, I will see to it the no harm comes to Serbia.” Pašic choose not to answer, instead he turned and walked from the room. When he reached the door he turned. “I expect you to be here first thing tomorrow, all of you. We do not have the luxury of time in this crisis. By July this country may be at war.” Pašic left the ministers, who returned to sitting in silence.

 

[unmerged(9046)]

Very nice start, E!!!!!! If you can maintain this level for the duration, you have a masterpiece in your hands....

 

[Estonianzulu]

Originally posted by Stroph1
Very nice start, E!!!!!! If you can maintain this level for the duration, you have a masterpiece in your hands....

Big IF there.
And thanks rich, a mighty undertaking which will hopefully end my rather bad habit of having problems in the middle of writing them. (files corrupted, written files missing, etc.)

Only 6 years of actual gameplay so I should do ok.

 

[nalivayko]

Are you sure it is 6 years of gameplay? What if you get annexed by Austria around 1916?

 

[Estonianzulu]

Aha but you see I have already played the game! Thats right, I know the future

 

[nalivayko]

Tricky and not fair - I was about to wish you good luck, but I see it is not necessary

 

[unmerged(14689)]

Estonianzulu, shame on you:

I am also no where near the writer that Suvorov is.

This a quote from you taken from my AAR! There are three possibilities:

1. You were lying!

2. You are a poor judge of your own (and my!) writing skills

3. You were on some kind of drug (or better a combination of certain drugs) when you made that statement.

Good luck with your AAR!

 

[Estonianzulu]

Im going with number 3.

 

[unmerged(14689)]

I figured that much...

 

[Estonianzulu]

Storm on the Rise

July 5th 1914
Skopje
12.00 Hours

The whistle blew; a general sigh of relief went across the factory floor. Lunch time. Hordes of workers crawled out of the steaming factory and out onto the grassy field where they would eat their food. And, standing in his usual spot, was a young paperboy. About a quarter of the men purchased papers, only those who could afford to and could read them.

“Well, what is going on in the world today Georgi?”
“Well, lets see...” The youngest man in the group, Georgi, unfolded the paper. He usually read the paper to the three or four men who worked near him. Of them he had the best grasp of Serbian. The others spoke only passing Serbian, and read none. “Hmm...” He held up the paper.

“Hah, I bet I know who that was. That the Archduke fellow from Austria.” One of the men said.

“Yeah, that's him. Says here that his funeral was held yesterday near Vienna, that's the capital of Austria.” Goergi read. He shifted the paper up a little to read the article. After scanning the first few parts he put the paper down to talk to the other men. “Turns out lots of big leaders showed up, but not King Petar, or Kaiser Wilhelm.”

“Good, damn Germans, no better than the Serbs.” One of the men said.
“Right there Boris. I hope they go to war, maybe then we will get out of this mess.”
“Workers of the world...” someone muttered.
“Quiet! Stuff like that’ll get you arrested, especially with all this mess about assassinations.” Boris said nervously. He had always been uncomfortable around revolutionary talk. He hoped the world would work itself out, the other factory men were not so passive.
“Doubt it, Serbians too interested in stopping the Austrians to worry about Bulgaria.”

“There is more.” Georgi said, which made all the other men quiet down to listen to him. Although he was young he had a very commanding presence. When he talked, people listened. “Turns out the Austrians are saying the Serbs had information on the assassin, this Princip guy, and his leader, a Serb named Dragutin Dimitrijevic. Look, they have a picture of him,”

“Austrian authorities are still looking for him.” Georgi looked up, some more men had gathered, this news was exciting. Usually the men spread out into about ten or so groups. Most of the men were Bulgarians who lived in the East part of town. A few were Greek from the south, and there were about five Serbs. The foreman, Petar, was also Serbian. So the groups tended to be ethnic. Each eyed eachother cautiously, as though they all had something to hide from each other. It was Georgi’s opinion that if they worked together they could make some changes, but his calls fell on deaf ears.

“Damn hero.” Said a man who had just arrived, a Serb, and a communist. He and a few other Serbs were treated with suspicion. Although they were members of the party, they were also Serbs. Georgi had tried to assure the Bulgarians that no boarders existed in Marxist ideology, but they chose to ignore him.

“That we agree on Viktor.” Said Boris, the leading anti-Serb of the group. “That man just saved the world...” At that, the whistle blew once more, it was time to return to work. Boris laughed and looked down to his half-eaten lunch. “I was wrong Georgi! Serbians aren’t all bad! Some of them are even heroes. Ah, what a shock, a hero who uses violence to solve his problems. Perhaps you could learn something from him eye Georgi?” Georgi stuffed the paper into his lunch pail, and thought on Boris’ words to himself as they walked back to the factory floor.


--

Belgrade
18:03

Kasza sat listening to the swing of the pendulum in the clock. tick tick He sat, eyes closed, in the stuffy room outside the Prime Minister’s office. A man sat rapidly scribbling notes on a pad in a nearby desk. His glasses were fogged from the heat of the room. Three other men sat in the cramped office. A large businessman sat sleeping across from Kasza, while Minister of Education, Vinko Aleksander paced a few feet in front of the desk. The third man sat looking out the useless window. Kasza did not recognize him.

A man opened the large door, which provided one of the two entrances into the office; the other was to a hallway. The man looked quickly around the room. “Mister Kuznetov, the Prime Minister will see you.” The third man, an elderly slim man, dressed formally and topped with a large brimmed hat, now hung on a nearby rack, stood up and walked towards the door. The servant shut it behind him. Kasza went back to watching the clock tick. He soon became lost in its monotonous sound, and fell asleep.

The sound of a door opening startled Kasza into consciousness. Mister Kuznetov walked quickly out of the room, picked his hat and cane off the rack and left through the other door. The fat man stirred in his sleep, but did not wake. Kaszo looked around, Minister Aleksander had left during his sleep, and so had the clerk at the desk. A new man sat there now. Kasza glanced up to the clock’s face. He had slept for an hour without realizing it. The last week had been hell.

“Minister Kaszo, the Prime Minister will see you know.” The servant said. Kaszo pulled himself from his seat and slowly followed the servant through the double doors, which led to the Prime Minister’s private office.

“Ah, Kaszo good. Is Vinko gone? I hope so. The man drives me crazy. Anyway, sit, you wished to see me, and I wished to see you.” The Prime Minister, a man in his late 60’s he seemed unfazed by the heat of the room. He twirled the end of his long beard as he sat back in his large chair and gestured towards a seat in front of the desk.

“Sir, it is about the report you requested.” Kaszo said cautiously. Pašic was known to be a rather moody man. He could go from being pleasant to being irritated in an instant. And Kaszo’s report was not good. “I have determined costs for mobilization.”

“Excellent, give them to me.” Pašic said, leaning forward.

“We can not afford, in our current state, to mobilize. It would send us far deeper in debt than I can imagine, not to mention the dent it would make in tax and industrial strength. Sir, war would ruin us. We can not deploy seven thousand men and remain afloat.” Kaszo stopped, to let what he had said sink in, and because the heat was getting to him again. While he was about the same age as Pašic, he was not quite as healthy.

“I see. For the first time it appears that I am in agreement with our military. We will be forced to raise taxes and slash more, hmm, social aspects. Cut down on education, which is why I wanted Vinko out, and reduce law enforcement spending.”

“Sir, are you sure that is wise? If we cut spending in those areas it may agitate the issues already in place.” Kaszo slowly took deep breaths, he needed to end this conversation and get outside.
“I have no choice. War is coming; all we can do is be ready when it does. And besides, Austria won’t survive the Russian steamroller; the war will last less than a month, and all our troubles will be forgotten. So long as those damn fools don’t try to bring the Croats and Slovenes into some sort of agreement. Wont ever happen.” Pašic laughed to himself. Apparently he found something he had said funny. Kaszo missed it.

“Minister, if you do not mind, I should return to my work...” Kaszo said, standing with the aid of his cane.

“Why yes, of course.” Pašic rose aidless and walked with him to the door. “I will see you in about a day’s time then.” Kaszo walked through the double doors. Behind him he heard the servant call in a man named Radmillo to speak with the Prime Minister. After a brief walk through another stuffy hall Kaszo reached the doors to the street. Then it began to rain.

---

Notes: I added some names to the list, and changed some of the other characters to fit what I decided to do with them. Expect that often in this story as I am very loose in how I work.

 

[Morpheus506]

Excellent story, I cannot wait until the next update.

 

[nalivayko]

I am enjoying this a lot and it is not just rum talk Now, can we see some bloodshed, please? I do hope you win, but in the same time I will have you lynched if you tell me

 

[Estonianzulu]

July 6th 1914
Belgrade
14:00 Hours

"Minister!" a messenger ran into the room. The messenger was a young man. The guard at the entrance to the room grabbed him before he got a step through the door. The guard was almost twice his size, and lifted him up by his collar. “A message!” The man sitting at the desk in the back of the room looked up. He nodded to the guard to his right. The second guard walked forward and took a piece of paper from the boy’s extended hand.

“Thank you Milo, now go.” The guard dropped the boy who turned and ran. The guard brought the paper to the Minister.
“Here you are Minister Masovic.” The guard gave him the paper. Masovic flipped it over. On the outside it said a single word. “Deutschland” The guards stepped back and left through the only door to the room. Masovic spun his chair to the windows, and pulled the shutters closed.

“This is interesting.” Masovic opened the paper, sliding his hand up under the folded top. “Hmm…”
---

16.00 Hours

“What is it Masovic. I was on my way out when you got here.” Pašic said taking his coat off and throwing it over the chair in front of the desk, forcing Masovic to stand. Normally this would have been enough to anger Masovic, but not now.

“We have uncovered something,” Masovic began. Pašic interrupted him, as he commonly did.

“We who? You know I don’t like all of this cloak and dagger diplomacy. Is this the work of your German men? I don’t trust them.” Pašic sat down himself, forcing Masovic to lean towards his desk.

“Sir, this is bigger then that. Read.” Masovic pulled the paper from his coat and slid it across the desk to the Prime Minister.

“What is this; I don’t have time for games…” Pašic trailed off as he began to read.

Confidential - For Your Excellency's personal information and guidance
Berlin
6 July 1914
The Austro-Hungarian Ambassador yesterday delivered to the Emperor a confidential personal letter from the Emperor Francis Joseph, which depicts the present situation from the Austro-Hungarian point of view, and describes the measures which Vienna has in view. A copy is now being forwarded to Your Excellency.
I replied to Count Szagyeny today on behalf of His Majesty that His Majesty sends his thanks to the Emperor Francis Joseph for his letter and would soon answer it personally.
In the meantime His Majesty desires to say that he is not blind to the danger which threatens Austria-Hungary and thus the Triple Alliance as a result of the Russian and Serbian Pan-Slavic agitation.
Even though His Majesty is known to feel no unqualified confidence in Bulgaria and her ruler, and naturally inclines more to ward our old ally Rumania and her Hohenzollern prince, yet he quite understands that the Emperor Francis Joseph, in view of the attitude of Rumania and of the danger of a new Balkan alliance aimed directly at the Danube Monarchy, is anxious to bring about an understanding between Bulgaria and the Triple alliance.
[...]
His Majesty will, further more, make an effort at Bucharest, according to the wishes of the Emperor Francis Joseph, to influence King Carol to the fulfillment of the duties of his alliance, to the renunciation of Serbia, and to the suppression of the Rumanian agitations directed against Austria-Hungary.
Finally, as far as concerns Serbia, His Majesty, of course, cannot interfere in the dispute now going on between Austria-Hungary and that country, as it is a matter not within his competence.
The Emperor Francis Joseph may, however, rest assured that His Majesty will faithfully stand by Austria-Hungary, as is required by the obligations of his alliance and of his ancient friendship.
Bethmann-Hollweg

“How.” Pašic stopped. The word was a demand, not a question.
“Or top man in Germany wired it this morning. It’s a blank check. Do you understand what that means? The Germans will support the Austrians if Russia gets involved. The war is coming.” Masovic said, slowly and with a growing volume. He took this tone with many people, including the Prime Minister.

“I know what it means!” Pašic jumped up and shouted. “And I know what is coming as well!”

“The King needs to see this.”

“The King is sick, and Aleksander will want to take the Austrians up on their threats. Damn. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this. Yes, I will speak to the King.” Pašic sighed. Although he had fought to bring the Karadjordjevic dynasty back to Serbia, he had not counted on Petar falling ill. And now, war was on its way…

 

[stnylan]

Just got here.

A very nice tale so far. Interesting having the 'common' view in the factory talk and then going to affairs of state.

 

[Estonianzulu]

Thanks.
Everyone who I bring up is going to come back in some way, important or not. There are no one time characters! (well, besides the countless servants, guards and clerks of course...)

 

[unmerged(15579)]

Excellent writing! I like this AAR so far, I just hope the Serbs have a glorious fight, win or lose.

 

[unmerged(14689)]

Go kill some Austrians! Free you Slav brothers from their evil yoke!

Oh, and write a nice story about it as well! But I see you've got that covered already!

 

[Estonianzulu]

July 10th 1914
Belgrade
14:00 Hours

"Minister Pesic, the Prime Minister will see you now." The servant said, opening the door to Pašic's office. Pesic rose, straightened his jacket and walked into the Prime Minister's office. He seemed uneffected by the heat of the day.

"Pesic. Sit." Pašic said from his desk. He was sorting through files on his desk. He opened a folder and pulled out a sheet of newsprine. "Im not sure if you've seen this yet. Its a copy of the Times."

"The English? What are they saying now?" Pesic said, pushing his coat tails back and sitting in front of Pašic's desk. He sat straight backed, and towered over the Prime Minister. He reached his arm across the desk and pulled the paper to him.

"It is not the English I am showing you, but the Austrians." Pašic said, closing the folder and looking up from his desk. Pesic twirled his long curling mustache vaguely. "The English report is on the Austrian 'press campaign'," he said the words in harsh English, "towards us."

"Yes, I see." Pesic said distantly. Heis hand left his mustache and came to rest on the chair arm. "'pestilent rats'" he read. "How kind of the Austrians to think of us in such friendly terms.

"Indeed. I do not know how much of this is simple propoganda, as the English dont like the Germans any more than we do, but still it is excessive."

"It proves without a shadow of a doubt that war is coming." Pesic said. He was not a man of many words. "What of the Russians?"

"I dont know yet, I am supposed to meet Hartwig today. He is meeting with the Austrian deligation." Pašic stood up suddenly, and Pesic followed in suite, only pausing to straighten his clothes. "We should go see him now Pesic, perhaps a confrontation with the Austrians is what we need." Pašic left his office, with Pesic hot on his trail.

--

14:45

"Ah. Prime Minister." A man of the delegation said as Pašic and Pesic walked into the room. "We were not expecting you."

"I know, but as you are well aware I am sure, this is Serbia and I can go where I like." Pašic said, without hiding his disdain.

"Yes, yes of course..." The man turned back to the large round desk which the delegation sat around. A sigh came from across the room.

"Albert, if you would kindly take those files elsewhere I would be most appreciative." The man who gave the sigh said. Albert, who had first greeted Pašic, stood up, grabbed some files and left. He was followed by all but two of the men in the room.

"Now, what do you wish to say Prime Minister, we were rather busy." The man said.

"Ah, you do not have time to talk to the pestilent rats Gieslingen?" Pašic asked.

The other man chuckled, then fell silent.

"I am here to talk to Hartwig." Pesic broke in. The first thing he had said since they arrived.

"Ah, good minister what luck, he is here for you to talk to now." Gieslingen, the Austrian representative in Belgrade said. "But perhaps you would be kind enough to take the conversation elsewhere, this room is designated for the Austrians."

"I would be happy to." Pašic said. "Minister Hartwig?" The man gave no response. Gieslingen laughed outloud.

"Perhaps he doesnt want to talk to you eh?"

"Minister Hartwig?" Pašic asked louder. Pesic walked over to where the man sat. He bent near the man's head and sniffed the air. His hand jumped to clamp his nose.

"Minister Hartwig is, I am afraid, no longer with us." Pesic said stepping back in disgust.

"Ah." Gieslingen said, suddenly less happy.

--

19:00 Hours

"Dead?" Mijatovic asked again. He couldnt believe it. What a time to die, that man might have just stirred up a hornet's nest. A dead Russian in the middle of an Austrian delegation.

"Yes! Ive told you five times, he died. Suddenly. Doctors say it was natural, but I dont know..." Cubrilov said,

"Dont be foolish Cubrilov. The Austrians did not kill Hartwig, he died because he was fat and old. Not that it reminds me of anyone." Cubrilov shut up, and flushed.

"What business is it of yours Metaxis, and by the way, thats Minister Cubrilov. I dont even know why you are here." Cubrilov said, remaining flustered. He was an easily angered man, and Metaxis enjoyed pulling people's strings.

"I was here to speak with His Majesty, you know, the King." Metaxis laughed. He was Greek, and, many rumoured, a socialist.

"Why His majesty likes you I will never know." Mijatovic said from aside. He did not like either of the men, but he feared Metaxis. Cubrilov might have had power, but Metaxis had the ear of the king. Luckily Prince Alexander was not so fond of him. "All you have ever done for this country is shut up some Greeks. I could have done that just as easily, and made sure they wouldnt strike again."

"Tsk, tsk. Such strong threats, but you see General, I have what you might call friends in high places. Anger me and you will watch this great war from the Serbian high fleet." Metaxos said, picking up his things and making to leave.

"Serbia doesnt even have a port..." Cubrilov said, confused. Mijatovic rolled his eyes and sighed as Metaxos left, laughing. "Oh I do hate that man."

"Yes, and I am sure the feeling is mutual." Mijatovic said. "But that is not why I am here. We need guns, and we arent producing enough of them. I need you to authorize an increase in imports of weapons."

"And why should I? We have factories. We make guns. The war is a while off, everyone knows it." Cubrilov, as minister of Trade, had a say in all matters, even those involving them military.

"Because we dont have enough..." It took all his power to keep from shouting at the fat man. Cubrilov was clueless often, yet he was a master of numbers. Mijatovic would have to come at a different angle. "Minister, I have heard recently that your grandson is looking at joining the military."

"Erm, yes."

"A very dangerous time for a young man to join the army, dont you think. What with war on the horizon. But, maybe he will get lucky and get a comfy desk job eh?"

"Erm yes..." Those weapons were Mijatovic's.