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( * )
A letter was sent to Hierd at four in the morning, he opened it when he woke at eight with a headache. It read;
"Under the vise of Kommander Adelheid Von Winters, the Aerial Force can now operate without difficulty. Because of the success of the force, Kom. Adelheid wishes to recruit more to-be pilots. And wishes to also discuss the idea of; 'Fighter-Plane carrying battleship.'
"In regards, the Aerial Force Service."
Hierd put the letter away, chortling. "He doesn't know, but it is a real thing already made."
With two imperial knocks, "Lord, you have two urgent requests, to-be done. We await your lordship's presence within the war room." The officer stood silently awaiting an answer from the door.
"Naturvege can take care of that." Hierd, messy-haired and sleepy, took to his bed in a big jump. "What I want right this moment, is rest."
"And rest, you cannot have." Jeane popped out from behind the officer.
"Jeane." Hierd groaned, "why are you here?"
"Came back, got bored, came here with a few souvenirs too."
"Great. Leave it on my desk."
Jeane scoffed, jumping towards Hierd's bed. "That was metaphorical," -she gestured for the officer to leave, with a smile- "it's business, lord."
"Business?" Muffled, stuffed under the pillows. "What business?"
"If you'd taken the officer by regard, you'd have seen the pictures and reactions of your war-room Generals. But, I'll be the one stomaching yours by myself."
Awaking, with many grunts, moans, and irritated noises; Hierd looked at Jeane, she held something, a folder.
"You look…" Jeane eyed his appearance, "human, unlike you as you are publicly."
"I am, what I am," he tore the folder open, "and… This is what this is…" His eyes were adjusting to the images shown. There were ten images in total. "Aerial shots? Is this from the aerial-force pictures over Kerfeliz?"
"Yes," Jeane handpicked one from the pile. "And all are equally terrific."
Hierd sneered. "The NA soldiers we've captured say the Northern Alliance is all about; 'a contemporary world,' but they're really going out and beyond with this one."
From the northern fjords of the Lottidenty Empire, each mountain crevice, each flat land, each nook and cranny, had a naval gun. And this was all photographed from above, make wonders for what lies hidden under the little foliage, caves, and cliffs that obscure the other naval guns.
"We're endangering the Yamato fleet by going any close to the fjords." Hierd tisked, "that shore amphibious mission (though game changing) may be all for naught if our navy can't advance towards the North Sea with this heavy artillery blocking our entrance.
"Meaning…" He circled round the images, arranging them. To him, a picture was forming within his mind. "Our forces are too weak to over come a challenge like this…"
Jeane couldn't understand Hierd. "What do you mean? Too weak? We're the most powerfu-"
"Listen," he interupted, "I've yet trained our troops of the mountains, the cold mountains, and the cold-winter fighting in general. It will be stupid!"
"I've Napolean to thank for my second-guessing." He thought, getting up from his bed. "At once, we're going to the war room. I am drafting a plan anew."
"Yes, lord!" She quickly packed up all the images into the folder.
( * )
"Blasphere," Hierd looked at the map, his Generals and Admirals observing him. "That is the city wherein our amphibious mission will take place. From the newly gathered aerial shots, we see naval guns, relatively short, so maybe around the hundred-millimeter calibre ones.
"That doesn't change anything, the Yamato will destroy everything anyways." Hierd pulled the image from earlier. "But with this added factor… Things will have to change. Drastically, I add."
The room was silent, the Generals (who were astounded by the aerial shots just moments ago, thinking how much of a net-positive it was for the modern age of war) were now deep in their minds, thinking, yet unable to concoct an answer.
"Lord," budged one admiral, "we can't pursue the Naval campaign, without suffering damage, or prolonging the naval campaign to an extent we don't want. I think the army should be in charge of a full on assault! From Blasphere, straight to the borders of Lottidenty!"
"Insane!" Thrusting his fist in the air, his shout radiating the room in tension, the General stood up, slit-eyed and looking at the admiral with malice. "A full scale mission towards the fjord (with our army) is but madness! Have you seen the superiority of our enemy's artillery!? And not just that, the terrain and the cold! Can our soldiers brave that cold!?"
"Sure they can!" Another admiral, fighting; "the navy has many such conditions, you just need to fight it! Like a man!"
"What do you dare say!?" The General sat down, "preposterous." He calmed himself, even if his breaking point neared climax.
Understanding the argument to be over; "what a class act," Hierd chuckled. "It is not the time and day for such drama to ensue within this room."
Silence, once more.
"Now," Hierd continued. "Opinions."
With a gulp, "I think, my lord, that the army should strong arm this battle. Taking out the eastern fjords (as they guard the entrance of the North Sea), and from the images, I gather they won't be able to make any decent shots nigh their calibers might even be too low for any ranged shot.
"The Yamato fleet will edge out the distance, keeping watch on the fjord from a good fifty-or-so kilometers away. But we can't close any distance when we're entering the mouth of the North sea."
"You miss the fact that we're working with the fjords, and a more superior (in regards) enemy." Retorted the General. "The point of a navy is to bombard and to fight other naval powers that wish to bombard. A cat and mouse, except the mouse is also a cat. Having the navy support the army, is what the navy is good for.
"And as I am led to believe, the Yamato can fire well off distances, tremendous distances even. If it can do treumendous distances, then it should be able to fire unscathed. Western and Eastern of the Northern fjords."
Before tensions would boil once more, Hierd clapped his hands, "men. You miss the point of an Aerial Force. Although this scouting may have been part of it's power, it is not it's whole power. In fact, a nation may not even need ships if it has squadrons upon squadrons of planes."
"Do tell, my lord!" All twinkle-eyed and ready to hear; the Generals and Admirals prepared themselves.
"We attack by air. Like a dragoon squadron." Hierd landed his hand upon the city of Foole. "For this, we will look at the city of Foole. I want each and every single regiment, every single soldier in your respective branches, to be committed to a aerial-force exam. Those who exceed or pass, will automatically land for training. One week, men. One week."
"Yes, lord!"
"We shall hold back the invasion for a month, we will continue our incursions in the East with Campbell, and we will continue diplomatic missions with Arsteli. Although I stress that right now, our forces should all be diverted in the aerial-force.
"If we succeed, if my plan succeeds, our steel planes will ride the skies, drown the world in shrills of explosions! As hundreds upon hundreds of bombs drop from the sky, blowing up the enemy encampments and fortifications. Like… Like it were nothing!" Hierd smiled, "hurry now, my men. We've not all day."
( * )
"I did not know the fatherland actually produced an idea (which I thought was so original) such as the; carrier." Adelheid lend Hierd hot tea. Overlooking the USS Midway, moored upon a secluded naval dock in the Southernmost island of Gale.
"Colored me shock when the very next morning, a week ago, that there were, and I remember vividly, one-thousand-five-hundred-sixty-seven applicants who were accepted as trainees."
Hierd took the tea, blowing it bit, then setting it down onto the scanty tea table set up before them. "How long before we have a hundred fully trained pilots?"
"A month at best." Adelheid sipped his tea, "two at worst."
"And that's bad," Hierd sighed. "The NA are unpredictable. I fear the armstice will break at any moment's notice… How much will be available at the end of the week?"
"Fourty, lord. And that's being generous."
"Great." Hierd chortled, "have the talented here tomorrow, they're going to be practicing how to land upon a carrier, the right speed, the right power, the right everything. And then weapons, and then everything else in between."
"Will it be the p-47, we're using?" Adelheid questioned, "I could have them land upon them right now with the P-47 on that small runway."
"That's…" Hierd lightly scoffed in comedic jest, "the worst thing ever! The thunderbolt is only for the land. It has no real capability to land on a carrier. Though it is possible to, it would be ridiculously hard and risky." He grabbed and sipped his tea. A refreshing Jasmine.
"The world is full of surprises."
Still, rocking slowly and steadily, the USS Midway was under the protection of some hundred sailors, getting themselves used to the ship before the next four hundred sailors were to come.
"That is the most amount of guns I have seen on a ship," Adelheid commented, "the Yamato takes first, but it's more jarring to see all the guns on the side instead of it being in line with the deck and amidship."
Hierd; "hmm," -ed.
Taking one fell glunk, Hierd finished the tea and stood.
"Where to?"
"Home, I'm tired." Hierd left Adelheid alone upon the wooden desk.
---
Sweeping, streaking, strafing.
The F4U Corsair squadron danced in the clouds, they were quite versed in the P-47 Thunderbolt, and the internals were a bit similar, but took some days of getting used to.
Unlike the P-47's training and practice being let to surveiling and a bit of gun action, the aerial-force made the F4U a semi-bomber.
There were three bombs in total, one for each wing, and one at the plane's centerline. They were heavy bombs, perfect for the role Hierd wanted it for.
Why not bombers? No carrier can do such a thing in any effective manner. However he had spawned a B-29 Stratofortress in the Foole airstrip. When the airmen saw It the morning after, their faces thrown aghast, eyes shot wide; and fly entering.
The USS Midway sailed some one hundred kilometers off from the military-island of Jose (with a French E). Aboard were five hundred sailors, tending the deck and understanding how they should assist in the landing of the F4Us.
With all twelve pilots in the air, they began trials.
( * )
[GRESH HOUSE OF THE GERMAN EMBASSY]
"Mr. Algemmener." Morgenfaust, the Lottidentian diplomat, pushed a folder forward. "I am assured that you are continuing (and therefore) probing the Ruskan outpost within Campbell. However, we are quite distressed over some recent news."
Algemmener hesitated. Opening the folder he was quite shocked to say the least. It was a drawing, a very hastily drawn silhouette of a dark appearance beyond the clouds.
"We ask," Morgenfaust crossed his legs. "If this is your invention."
Algemmener was fully aware of what this was. But… "I do not know fully what this means, Mr. Morgenfaust. As the sillhouete projects, it may be a dragoon with it's wings level; in it's trench in the wavelength."
"But the whirring noise. The altitude of the flying object. And the quick speed. It could only mean one thing. That this was the doing of Germany, Mr. Algemmener." His face was distinctly listless but his voice carried scorn.
"And if it is?"
"If it is what we think it is…" Morgenfaust slowly got off his seat. "Then we will be prompt in our subsequent actions." He made for the door, "do be so blunt, and this armistice will be broken."
The door closed.
---
Two days later, the Yamato fleet (more of just two battleships, that being Yamato and Scharnhorst) spotted a vast array of new guns installed upon Blastsphere's shores.
The guns looked way more reinforced and modern in that they looked to have a turret hold capable of firing directly ninety degrees. If this was so, then they've considered the air as an opponent in this war.
As reported by the newly instated Admiral Yuko of the Yamato; "Blastphere has prepared to fire upon any plane that may lay besige their city. In my due opinion, the HQ should commence the plan at haste as the element of surprise has broken for they have seen our plans."
Hierd knew it was too early. There were barely enough pilots. If he prolonged the wait, Blastphere will have been covered in defenses.
But. The Yamato is here, is it not?
The succeeding letter to Admiral Yuko (from Hierd) went as followed; "two days from now, the USS Midway, escorted by the two Deustchland-Class cruisers, will part the Jose Port and join the Yamato-Fleet.
Preparations have been made in the Betelionic Naval Academy and our ground troops are stationed and are ready to depart at moment's notice. Admiral Yuko, the Yamato will perform shore bombardment only. The three ships will aid in this bombardment, however will focus on any incoming naval threat. I hope, and with great triumph, that this mission, led under you, will succeed.
-Chancellor of Imperial Germany,
Hierd Die Grace."
There was commotion and a lot of talk upon the decks of the Yamato. The sailors and officers were all fired up. Ready for the incoming battle. It's been some few four or five months (maybe even more) that they boarded this vessel, and they were very well accustomed to it.
Performing various drills and all sorts of practice; and it's presence in the Gale Sea alone stopped all forms of trade with the Kerfeliz and strengthened domestic trade within Betelion's waters.
Knowing that the warship, that giant mountain in the seas; was not land, was not an enemy, and was powerful and an ally. Admiral Yuko was the newly instated commanding officer of the Yamato after Adelheid retired to the Handerbour Government Office and then recently to the Aerial Force.
He was quite decorated, having been trained by Captain Jack himself and the Naval Academy's best of instructors.
The Betelions were also participating with this amphibious invasion. In fact, their BSS Betelionic (their IJN Kongo-like battleship) had steamed from their Ferris-sea port a week ago, and was moored in their Capital City's port for refueling and maintenance.
Now, all that was needed, was a sign.
( * )
Brigader General Vedal set outpost upon the outskirts of Northern Arsteli. The land was as smooth and flat as you could imagine. Sparse trees, one every five or so kilometers. But the streams were abundant, and all the water stems from the far off middle continent just East from Arsteli.
His arsenal was rather light, prioritizing infantry and light artillery rather than tanks and whatnot.
Vedal's mission was simple. To destroy and capture the Ruskan royalty hiding in an illegal outpost in Southern Campbell (the so-called teapot kingdom). What seems like a month ago; a day after (or so) that the armistice was signed, the Lottidentian diplomat, Morgenfaust, had informed Germany that Ruska was no longer a part of the union.
And that they were free to capture, eliminate, do anything with the Ruskas, as they were not part of the NA.
"Sir, Vedal." Saluted the soldier.
"Yes?" He gestured for him to enter the tent.
"A telegram:" the soldier handed a written note, "sir. By the Chancellor."
Without hesitation, he grabbed the letter from the soldier's hand. And gestured for him to leave, thanking him simultaneously.
"Do not execute the plan. Attack when you are given 'my' signal.
Thanks,
Hierd Die Grace."
Although the letter was handwritten from a telegram, the wording itself seemed too direct to the point for a man like Hierd Die Grace to have written with no hurry. Vedal speculated many things, all had worried him greatly. What was happening in Germany? Why cancel the attack…?
"You," he eyed the officer in the room, "please get that soldier from earlier into this room. Say I want to write a telegram to Venit Ille."
"Yes, sir."
( * )
The first day of September came and went. Unchean was Unchean, neat, clean, and nice. The streets were smooth, painted, and maintained at regular intervals.
No house in Unchean was made out of wood. All was brick, concrete, windows, metal, and all. The people have forgotten their old ways of housing. The nobles from the Krimvald days didn't even have a distinguishing line of luxury any more.
Germany had changed the world. And it started within Unchean.
Train tracks made regional travel easy and cheap. When it took one-to-two weeks from Krimvald's capital to Handerbour's now it took only a couple hours. The architecture has also genuinly changed.
The middle-class housing architecture was reminiscent upon Federal Architecture, like those upon Washington D.C. When you think Federal, you think of the first president himself and his house.
Brick ladden, paladian windows. Much more better to look at than any other modern building Hierd had to live within during his days in Earth.
It ranged from two storey buildings if you were farther away from the middle districts, and five storey buildings if you were nearer. Richer and middle class housing architecture had the same classical style. They were of a Renaissance-esque feel. Though duly modern.
Like olden Berlin, or New York during the 1890s. Some were towering ten storeys, and some were modest five. Each were beautiful, with dull red walls and green roofing, with aged marble-looking colored brick walls and similarly colored roofing.
Pillars of stone, paladian windows, and the occasional and beautiful white arches. And stretching from the middle districts to the outer ones; were chimneys, attenae, clean wiring from electrical post to another.
Some ten months ago, before everything unfolded with the NA, Hierd's Manor was actually rebuilt into a different style. In all intents and purposes, the architecture, the engineering, and whatnot behind the original manor was frankly too brittle and too unseemly for a rapidly modernizing city.
Taking everything out, Hierd slept in Venit Ille for awhile before coming back to a brand new palace. The architectural committee behind every building within Germany had been working their ass off when they planned and constructed this one.
Encompassing the whole grass field, was this intense authoritarian building. Like the White house and it's government feel, and the alike design of the real-world Byron White Courthouse within Denver, Colorado.
There was a magnificent fountain just before the seemingly hundred meter long (in width) steps of up to it's monumental white Roman pillars.
A report by the German Times when it was built;
"Simply astounding. The dream place of an artist. And the true home fit for our Chancellor."
A Hesian article from the popular; 'Germanic-Hesian Newsport' was a bit more 'critical;'
"It is astounding and foreboding. As you leave the car in 'first street' (the main road that leads all the way from the deconstructed Western Gate to the old Manor) you are met immediately with the awe-shocking and daunting castle of a building.
"To those who wish to see it, not within the picture upon this newspaper, bring yourselves trousers, as you will undoubtfully wet yourself from the astounding structure and other similarly tall and foreboding ones around you."
The UG, just some streets away from the White Manor, had also just finishe building another sector of the already large institute, this time; for anyone who wanted to major in artistry and the other fine arts, were accepted within this academy and given many opportunities.
Unchean was unfathomably the coined term; 'The City of Dreams.' And once you leave he Unchean, come back to your home nation, to your village, to your shabby home; you will dream of Unchean in your sleep. Moaning: 'Unchean, I shall be back,' while you drift into a tired snore after the week's worth and/or day's worth you lived within that dream of a city.
In Unchean:
There was joy, there were cries, there were shouts, there were congratulations. When you walked down a street, there were cars directly beside you upon the now widened road. The sidewalk was busy with people. From the stout and round nosed Hesian, the slit-eyed and pale Betelion, the care-free German, and the many happy children.
Then if you took a right down a road, there were abundant shops, lights and signs flickered about, with huge glass windows inviting you into them. From dresses tailor-made to fit anyone who entered, from coffee-shops who'd serve you the hottest and best, and the coldest and soothing.
Then if you took a left down a road, there you see students from UG leaving the university and traveling with groups of friends. Maybe they were interested in women and men much more now, and wanted to pursue relations? Or maybe they wanted to pursue, to strive education for their futures.
Everything was different in Unchean.
Then the second day of September had came. Even from the first day of September up till now, little did Unchean's people know that the soldiers were readying up. That the sea was angry with ship's propellors whirring awake the blue giant.
That, just a few kilometers away; Venit Ille and it's thousands of military personnel were conducting winter-lessons, and bootleg (yet practical and effective) paratrooper lessons (if the time came to be).
And a hundred kilometers after that; in Foole. The B-29 Stratofortress would rise from the Foole Airstrip, together with a hundred bombs, and a full crew at 3:47 PM.
And that a few kilometers away from that, in the Naval Port within Jose Island; the USS Midway was steaming Northward towards the Yamato fleet, with sixteen F4U Corsair planes on it's runway.
Behind her were two 'ready-to-go' D-Class (Deustchland) pocket battleships, raring to take to action. It's crew enjoying itself, talking to each other, about the recent happenstances, the war, the future, and apparantly; some sailors discussed about the sizes of their wife's boobs. Comparing one to the other.
And behind the three, the BSS Betelionic steamed comfortably, it's fully Betelionic crew, a bit nervous… Anxious for what was to come within the next few hours. From it's pagoda tower-height bridge; it's commanding Admiral prayed to Lord that everything was to go as planned.
And just a few more kilometers away from that; within the Betelionic Naval Academy; a full mix of six hundred Ridge-Brown units boarded the experimental amphibious ironclad ships. Escorted by a Betelionic light Escort destroyer; the ironclad made it's way to the designated location a few kilometers North from the academy;
The Yamato Fleet.
A radio-call from each and every ship. From each and every plane. From each and every radio into each and every soldier.
"This is a moment to be proud for. A moment, we can consider 'scary.' But, we don't understand what 'scary' means. We are anxious. Yet we are brave. My dear soldiers. The men who I declare to be my children; I've raised all of you.
"Through the few years of this difficult yet prospering nation; I have sought to make right what I thought cannot be. To be a leader of a great people. To be a leader of a great Empire. I thought it were only a dream, when the land Germany had owned was merely Unchean and nothing else.
"I remember the time I had merely a battalion of soldiers, fight against the Krimvaldians. I remember leading them to battle after their retreat when we broke their lines. I remember when the Krimvald fought valiantly. Racing towards an unending rain of bullets from the volley that we threw at them.
"And I remember the faces of my soldiers. They were brave, stern, yet, like I; were also scared. No man is not scared! Remember this! As you race towards what will be a seemingly unending volley of artillery and gunfire; remember the onces before you and the ones beside you.
"Their faces, the memories (however short) you had with them, and carry that within your hearts as you rush to battle. As you fire your gun. As you fire the round within that ship, as you load another bomb into the mortar, as you rain down hell upon our enemies.
"My children of Germany," Hierd took a deep breath, absorbing the minute long silence. "I pray for your safe return."