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Chapter Six: The Second Wave (Winter 1944-1945) “Plug that gap now!” What looked like a full company of enemy soldiers were pouring through the breach in American lines. They had flat ground in front of them and ample opportunity to flank American positions on the left and right. There weren’t enough to overrun the Americans… yet. “I’ve got a company on the way, T.” “How soon?” “Two minutes.” “Not quick enough. The enemy is moving too fast. Do you have the guns set up yet, M?” “No, T. This terrain is tricky, I need a few more minutes.” Another company appeared in the breach. The enemy had deployed smoke up the middle and the Americans’ operational machine guns were firing blindly into it. There was enough ammunition for the guns to get away with it, for now, but the results were bound to be less than optimal. “Fire the rockets, M.” “These are our last rockets. Are you sure, T?” “Yes!” Moments later, streaks of fire and smoke appeared from the horizon behind the American lines, from behind the hills they were so desperately defending against the enemy onslaught. “Come on, come on, come on! Stop these Frenchies!” The friendly artillery couldn’t fire quickly enough for the forces on the ground. A third French company appeared out of the smoke into the breach, and then a fourth. This had to be the beginning of the main thrust of the French attack. Intel on just how many units the French had left was shaky but this attack represented at least a third of their remaining force, maybe more. Just then, R Force appeared and slowed the French advance. They were heavily outnumbered, but they didn’t need to beat them, they just needed to hold them until… “TEANNA!” A short black teenager with braided black hair spins around in her chair and finds her mother, standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. “Oh… jeez… just a minute, hold on, Mom.” “What’s that, T? “Nothing, keep up the attack.” Out of the corner of her eye, Teanna saw yellow streaks zipping over the blotchy green terrain, evaporating the tiny sprites in a violent explosion of brown and orange pixels. The little tricolors blipping off the minimap meant one thing: the French spearhead was getting crushed. “Teanna, I am not going to sit here raising my voice for no reason. Pause the game.” The diminutive American commander flicks the mute switch on her microphone so her subordinates don’t hear her being scolded by her mother. “Mom, I can’t pause the game, it’s online. Can I just get a few more minutes? I’m almost done.” “Your grandfather is waiting.” “He was supposed to come tomorrow!” “Do you want me to tell a 74-year-old man to come back tomorrow because his granddaughter is too busy playing Shootymans?” “It’s called World at W- never mind. Please, mom, we’re about to win. This is an important match.” “You have three minutes.” The American commander, no longer mysteriously indisposed, returned to find that control of the situation was slipping through her fingers. The smoke had partially cleared, and the French and American lines were now perilously close. Some units were engaged in hand-to-hand combat. “Did you guys do a frontal charge? Dam- uh, darn it.” “No, T, their reserves charged out of the woods as the smoke cleared. Is your mom yelling at you again? Tell her to make more cookies.” “My dad makes the cookies, not my mom. And stay focused!” Artillery was out of the question. The close quarters combat created too much risk of friendly fire. But now that the blocky gray smoke sprites were dissipating, the commander could more clearly see the array of French forces. They didn’t have enough infantry to see this attack through. So why had they done it? “M, get the guns out of there now!” “You got it, T.” Madeleine got two thirds of her guns out before French counter-battery fire raked the hill she had occupied. That had been the French gambit: push forward enough to get a bead on Madeleine’s position, then obliterate her guns and give the French supremacy in artillery. Not a bad plan, but not good enough to beat Teanna’s squad. The French infantry pulled back towards the woods after their commanders realized the ploy had failed. Robert’s forces had taken losses but held their position, and critically, most of the machine gun positions on the left and right of the American line had survived, meaning that the French running back across the clearing were running into their field of fire without smoke to cover them. With dozens of their soldiers falling dead in a manner of seconds, La Mafia Québécoise finally raised the white flag. They didn’t have the forces to stop Robert and Teanna’s infantry from chasing down their surviving artillery. The Atlanta All-Stars won the day. Teanna had figured they were finished as soon as they did the worst thing a team playing France could do: they’d gotten their armor killed early. Still, LMQ had proven to a be resourceful opponent. Not as resourceful as the All-Stars though. Teanna, Robert and Madeleine would move on to Round 4 against Murder Death Kill. MDK was using Qing this tournament. Teanna hated fighting Qing. Especially as America. “Yes!!! Okay, good job guys, gotta go!” Teanna exited the game with a few swift clicks, and bolted to her feet, spinning around to find her mother with her arms crossed in the doorway. “See, mom? Under three minutes!” “It was four and a half. But I’ll let it slide. I’m not really sure what was going on there, but you sounded like quite the leader.” “I get it from you.” Teanna smiled a disarming smile at her. Her mother shook her head at this, but couldn’t stop a slight smile from appearing on her face. “Come on. Your grandfather is waiting.” Teanna did feel bad that she had made her grandfather wait, so she edged ahead of her mom in the hallway and stomped down the stairs. Her grandfather was sitting patiently at the kitchen table, keeping his hands pressed up against his warm coffee cup. He heard the commotion of Teanna’s heavy footfalls and looked over to see his granddaughter running down the stairs. “Good Lord, how does a girl that tiny make so much noise?” He began to slowly and deliberately brace himself to stand up out of his chair. “Oh, Grandpa, please don’t stand, you don’t have to stand.” Like many a proud old man would, he continued trying to stand anyway but Teanna’s arms were wrapped around him soon enough. Finally, he settled back into his chair and returned the hug. “How are things, child? How was your New Year’s?” “Good! Mom and Ashley and I went to the fireworks at the Spartakiade Grounds. How about you?” “Oh, that’s fun. I called your Uncle Gerald and then turned in at nine. Exciting, huh?” He laughed his raspy laugh. Smoking for all those years had done a number on his throat. Teanna’s mother spoke up from the stairs as she descended. “Teanna, you were so wrapped up by that computer game of yours, you forgot the whole reason Grandpa is here.” Her mother waved a photograph in the air, one that she had taken from Teanna’s desk. “Oh, duh!” Teanna sprang up, slid across the hardwood floor and plucked the photograph from her mother’s hands. “So, Grandpa, I have this, like, family history project at school? So, I went through the old pictures we have upstairs and found this one with you and all these guys. Nobody knows who they are.” She flipped the picture over and then placed it down in front of her grandfather, who squinted at it and then grabbed his reading glasses from his shirt pocket. He put them on and then lifted the photograph closer to his face, finally recognizing the four young black men smiling and standing in front of a large lake. “Oh, wow. Oh, wow.” ~*~*~ From: ahaskins@atl.filmmakers.synd To: all@atl.filmmakers.synd Sent: 5:55 AM April 22, 2010 Subject: ALL HANDS ON DECK: The PAF&G is coming to Atlanta! Body: The news hasn’t been made public yet, but the mayor’s office told me that the Pan-African Congress has chosen Atlanta for the next Pan-African Festival and Games. This is a really big deal for the city because it’s the first time the event is coming to America. The Pan-African Film Festival is also coming which means that the host nation will be able to choose the films it wants to headline. Let me be clear on one thing: I REFUSE TO LET THE LOS ANGELES BUREAU HEADLINE AT A FESTIVAL IN ATLANTA. IT WILL NOT HAPPEN. NOT UNDER MY WATCH. With that being said, we must begin our journey to headlining the first ever Pan-African Film Festival in America TODAY. And we’re going to need everybody we got to make it happen. So here it is: I need every one of you, no matter what your position or how long you’ve been with us, to submit any film ideas you have. Even if you think they have nothing to do with the theme of the diaspora, submit them anyway. We need the best ideas we have if want to come out ahead in this. And that idea might be yours! Andrea Haskins Bureau Chief Atlanta Filmmaker’s Bureau ~*~*~ From: tcarter@atl.filmmakers.synd To: creativecommittee@atl.filmmakers.synd Sent: 11:26 PM April 22, 2010 Subject: PAFG Submission Hey guys, Very exciting news about the Festival! It got me thinking about a paper I wrote in school about my grandfather, who told me a story about when he was living in Chicago and him and three of his friends saw a movie about an American fighting in Mittelafrika and then made a pact together that they would go to Africa to help finish the African revolutions. I’ve attached a scan of the photograph they took that night and of the paper I wrote. Be warned that I was thirteen when I wrote it so it might be a bit confusing to read. Hit me up if you have any questions about it. Thanks, Teanna Carter Apprentice Special Effects Engineer Atlanta Filmmaker’s Bureau [ATTACHMENT 1] GrandpaAndHisFriends.png 4.35 MB [IMAGE PREVIEW UNAVAILABLE] [ATTACHMENT 2] Familyhistoryassignment.rtf 34 KB ~*~*~ Teanna Carter Personal History Paper Mrs. Gargano January 2, 2001 72/100 Good concept but it looks like you rushed it and it seems pretty obvious to me that you didn’t even attempt to revise it. I know you’re better than this, Teanna. I found this photo of my grandfather and three of his friends in an old box. It doesn’t have a date or names on it, but my grandfather said it was taken in 1944 in Chicago.   He said he and his friends had watched a movie about an American soldier doing heroic things fighting in West Africa on a big screen they had put up for the Third Congress. Who’s they?  My grandfather and his friends had been apprentices for Chamber delegates. But their time was running out and they were going to have to go back to factories to work. Don’t start a sentence this way. My grandfather said he thought he had the ability to do something other than factory work that was also important. Read these sentences out loud. If they’re awkward, rewrite them.  He thought maybe he could be a scientist and work on some kind of secret project.  But when the British Civil War happened, he thought that maybe things weren’t as good in the world as he had thought. Socialist countries had been united but now things were tense between them. Different socialist nations were starting to do things in different ways that they didn’t agree about.  When he saw the movie, his friend Marvin said that they should go to Africa to help the rest of Africa defeat the colonialists. They all went to the Foreign Ministry office and signed up to volunteer the next day. My grandfather said he went to Namibia and helped the Army there fix up the railroads to the other countries so that fighters and supplies could be moved around to different countries where they helped the fight. This sentence runs on. His friend Marvin died over there. Over where? Be specific. His other friend Leon fought in Angola. His other friend Joshua fought in South Africa. This is important to my family history because it’s how my grandfather decided he wanted to work for the Foreign Development Agency. If not for that, he might not have met my grandmother, who is Igbo and from Benikongo. You need to elaborate more with this final paragraph for it to be a suitable conclusion. You clearly did the work to research this, but your write-up needs a lot of work. Come talk to me after class. ~*~*~ From: ijohnson2@chi.filmmakers.synd To: ahaskins@atl.filmmakers.synd Sent: 1:56 PM May 19, 2010 Subject: RE: Archives Request Body: This concept sounds very interesting, so please feel free to contact us for any more assistance you may need. As you requested, I went through the archives and pinned down the records for the four men in the photograph. Robert Carter, your associate’s grandfather, did indeed serve with the Volunteer Brigades in a support role in Windhoek, Namibia. His records show very little of note during the time in question. There were no special merits or demerits.  Leon Thomas, Jr. is the man to the right of Robert. Something you should know right away is that he is the Thomas in Pryor-Thomas, meaning he’s her father, so that’s an interesting wrinkle given how Pryor-Thomas feels about having anything about her personal life in the media. Thomas served in the Angolan detachment of the Volunteer Brigades as a medic. He was awarded the Medal of Military Merit by the Angolan government for his efforts in a battle near what is listed as Sá da Bandeira, today known as Lubango. Promising, but we don’t know any details about his heroism. Marvin Harris III is the man to the left of Robert. He served in the Mozambican expedition as an infantryman. He was killed in action in that debacle.  The man to the left of Marvin is Joshua Brown. He served in South Africa as a “specialist.” What that means is undefined. There’s no information listed about his service at all, which is unusual. I would suggest getting into contact with the South African archives to see if they have records of his service. By the way… you sounded like you were going to start sending bombs to the LA bureau. Nobody wants a bureau from another city to headline in theirs but you’re gonna burn yourself out if you let yourself stay so mad about it. Isabel Johnson Lead Researcher Chicago Filmmaker’s Bureau ~*~*~ From: jmartinez@nyc.filmmakers.synd To: ahaskins@atl.filmmakers.synd Sent: 9:18 AM June 8, 2010 Subject: RE: Angola??? Hey Andrea, it was great to hear from you! When are you coming up to New York again?! We need to have lunch. I love the idea, and I think the judges will go for it. I’m sure it’s better than whatever Los Angeles is doing, I don’t think you need to be so worried about them. Anyway, we do have people in Angola working on some nature poo poo for the Ministry of Education. I’ve been sorting through footage of aardvarks loving for weeks and helping you with this would be a welcome change of pace. I forwarded everything in your email to our team there and I’ll let you know as soon as I hear back. Joel Martinez Lead Producer New York Filmmaker’s Bureau ~*~*~ From: ahaskins@atl.filmmakers.synd To: all@atl.filmmakers.synd Sent: 10:24 AM June 14, 2010 Subject: SOMEBODY TOLD Body:  Los Angeles knows about the Angola proposal and has their own people on the ground already, and they’re definitely trying to steal OUR idea. I’m gonna figure out which one of you decided to blab on some dumb loving forum which I’ve TOLD YOU: LA IS ALWAYS WATCHING THOSE FORUMS. When I do figure it out, you’ll be making STI prevention PSAs for the rest of your loving life. Get your poo poo together!!! Andrea Haskins Bureau Chief Atlanta Filmmaker’s Bureau ~*~*~ From: ahaskins@atl.filmmakers.synd To: all@atl.filmmakers.synd Sent: 10:29 AM June 14, 2010 Subject: Regarding my last email Body: I apologize for the severity of my last email. It was unprofessional and unbecoming. Please refer to bureau bylaw 715.6A regarding keeping production information confidential. Furthermore, I am aware and always willing to abide by our participatory disciplinary process. Thank you. Andrea Haskins Bureau Chief Atlanta Filmmaker’s Bureau ~*~*~ From: jmartinez@nyc.filmmakers.synd To: ahaskins@atl.filmmakers.synd Sent: 5:56 PM June 26, 2010 Subject: Re: Angola research Body: Apparently the Angola archives hosed up and gave the information my guys requested to somebody from the L.A. bureau who is also in Luanda. They were perfectly nice about it and dropped it off at the studio we’re working out of here.  Anyway, the nature bullshit is held up because some baboons (literal baboons) wrecked our camera. Since my Director of Photography is an obnoxious perfectionist, the camera that got wrecked needs some ridiculously specific part that is only made in Vietnam. The poo poo we put up with for our craft! That means my guys don’t have poo poo to do so I had them digitize all the documents the defense ministry handed over about the foreign volunteers. And they handed over a lot, way more than what you asked for.  The records include details of ALL foreign support efforts of the Angolan revolution, even what nations who didn’t send fighters did. It’s a massive file so they’ll send it over through FTP when they can. Joel Martinez Lead Producer New York Filmmaker’s Bureau ~*~*~ From: jjefferson@atl.filmmakers.synd To: creativecommittee@atl.filmmakers.synd Sent: 2:56 PM August 6, 2010 Subject: Done with the Angola files We’re preparing a full presentation of what’s in the Angola files, but I wanted to get a brief summary of the key points to everybody before the weekend.  Leon Thomas Jr. does appear in Angola’s service records, and his service record is just about as vague as the American record that Isabel found for us. The Leon Thomas Jr. story according to the Angolan and American records is that he was a medic and he was heroic enough in Lubango to get a medal. What was that heroism? Nobody bothered to write it down.  Leon, as a semi-public figure, has mentioned getting a medal in Angola, but doesn’t really discuss what he did to earn it. Not an uncommon trait amongst war heroes, but something that I think arouses suspicion combined with something else we learned.  Who’s going to clear this up for us? The British, of course! Unlike the American Red Army, who seemed content to vomit volunteers and equipment into Africa without ever following up to see what those men and materiel were being used for, the Republican Army organized and sent their own units with British commanders. And they kept records of what they did. This is pretty typical of the time. British military intelligence had long standing connections with African socialist groups and provided support to their favored factions within the broader Angolan Revolution. Compared to the French and British, American intelligence networks in Africa were embryonic. The American Red Army went from having no contacts in these colonies to managing large-scale war efforts in a matter of months. So, the Angolan revolutionaries figured out that they could goad America into sending more troops by showering honors upon the volunteers. The American government, in their amateurish lust for good will and good press, totally took the bait and threw troops and equipment at any group that could sing even the first line of The Internationale and would pin a medal on an American. The same flattery tactics didn’t work on the British. The British command was deciding how many people it would send to Angola and so Angolan coaxing for more support took place at higher levels. Thus, the Angolans were more likely to be honest about what the British fighters were doing. An American fighter in Angola was six times more likely to be awarded a medal than a British fighter. So, in order to get a more accurate picture of what actually went down in the Angolan Revolution, we dive into the British records. The British kept records of all engagements they had knowledge of, even ones with no direct British involvement. They do show one engagement near Lubango, where an Angolan militia (which included 75 American volunteers) surrounded and captured a Portuguese unit in the dead of night, inflicting “about 150” casualties on the enemy with only 2 Angolans suffering “minor injuries.” Leon has always been vague about what happened in Lubango. He says he earned his medal for being a “good medic.” How many opportunities are there to be a good medic when there are two minor injuries in your entire force? I’ll let you all draw your own conclusions about that. Jamie Jefferson Researcher & Archivist Atlanta Filmmaker’s Bureau ~*~*~ From: ahaskins@atl.filmmakers.synd To: creativecommittee@atl.filmmakers.synd CC: tcarter@atl.filmmakers.synd Sent: 4:24 PM September 9, 2010 Subject: Focusing the Project Body: If you missed the meeting today, then here’s a quick catch up on what we decided. We can’t possibly fit the stories of all four men into one movie. Robert’s story is too uneventful, and Leon’s is far too unreliable. So that leaves Marvin in Mozambique and Joshua in South Africa. We don’t know enough about Joshua yet but many of you have made interesting cases to center the project around Marvin. We decided not to do that. Here’s why.  France refused to help the Mozambican socialists because of a petty disagreement between the negotiators. This is really a pretty shameful thing we’d have to contend with for a story with Mozambique and I just don’t think it would make for the type of film that the festival judges would choose as a headliner.    It’s important for the film to center the fact that the Africans liberated Africa, with our assistance. While we can make an American the central character, we must also center the story of what they learned from and how they supported the local population. However, the campaign in Mozambique was disjointed from the start. The locals and Americans didn’t communicate effectively, so I don’t know if this is the kind of story we want to tell either.  And so, the climax of the Marvin story would be as follows: Marvin lands with the rest of the Americans. Because the Portuguese knew they were coming, they were massacred.  The Mozambican Revolution fails. I don’t know about you, but I’m not brimming with Afro-American pride because of this endeavor. It was a disaster, and while I’m interested by a film that deals with the frustrations when international socialist solidarity fails, I don’t think its appropriate for the Festival. Marvin is a hero, but not the hero for the story we need to be telling.  The paucity of film about the first Mozambican Revolution was a good point in favor of centering Marvin. However, South Africa’s revolution gets more attention for a reason, because it was longer, more fruitful and more intricate. On the other hand, it dominates French film about Africa because the French love to play up their alliance with the RSA. If you ask me, it’s because they’re ashamed of how they failed other African states. From what I remember from to the judges at the Lagos festival, they were fairly negative about how French submissions so often center white French heroes in the South African Revolution. However, we are not France. Black America is part of the pan-African community and, in my opinion, we are not being obnoxious or colonial by telling the story of a black American who fought to liberate black Africans. It’s different, and we have the experience and insight to do this kind of story the right way. Provided we can get the information we need about Joshua’s service, I think this could be a very promising subject. Andrea Haskins Bureau Chief Atlanta Filmmaker’s Bureau ~*~*~ From: ahaskins@atl.filmmakers.synd To: creativecommittee@atl.filmmakers.synd CC: tcarter@atl.filmmakers.synd Sent: 12:42 PM October 2, 2010 Subject: Re: The South Africa Project Body: We heard from the archives and they can’t give us the files about Joshua’s service until the Ministry of Defence there approves their declassification. I am told that this is a formality and that there’s no reason not to declassify them. This will make it very public what we’re looking into. Luckily, I have it on good authority that Los Angeles has chosen their concept. I’m told that it’s basically Hamlet but the characters are all lions in the savanna. It sounds moronic. In the meantime, we did get some previously declassified information about a woman connected to Joshua. And it’s real good stuff.  Joshua married a woman named Unathi Masuku, and she was an instrumental figure in orchestrating the initial wave of urban uprisings which marked the beginning of the end for the white regime.  She earned three separate medals for heroism in the battle of Mbabane. Two of the medals mention bravery in hand to hand combat. Unathi was the REAL DEAL. We’re sending a team over and they’re going to track down her descendants immediately. Even if we don’t find anything about Joshua, we could probably just make the whole movie about her. Andrea Haskins Bureau Chief Atlanta Filmmaker’s Bureau ~*~*~ From: jjefferson@atl.filmmakers.synd To: creativecommittee@atl.filmmakers.synd Sent: 2:48 AM October 9, 2010 Subject: Unathi’s Family Body: Teanna and I talked to some Joshua and Unathi’s children today. They had some real interesting stories to pass down from their parents.  They had quite the story about some British guy named Roger. Apparently, he was Unathi’s first squeeze, as Unathi and her ANC cell had been paired with Roger’s British special operations unit, doing some real high stakes sabotage operations.  One day, they are headed to meet a French team for some big operation, and they all get ambushed. Roger gets wounded and Ubathi has to leave him behind in order to get the rest of her people out alive. She figures that Roger has been captured and wants to find out where he’s being kept so her people can attempt a rescue. A few days later, Ubathi gets word that her childhood home has been burnt down and that Roger’s head was left amidst the ruins, stuck on a bayonet. The regime forces had executed him and targeted Ubathi’s family for reprisal. It was supposed to intimidate her. Naturally, it ended up infuriating her instead.  Lo and behold, this happens to the exact same day that Joshua arrives in the town. He was supposed to be a regular infantryman but Ubathi picked him at random out of the new arrivals and conscripted him for her special operations squad. The children are insistent that this was destiny.  They didn’t have much to say about what Joshua and Ubathi got up to, so hopefully we can find out more about that. But they do mention that the family house outside Bulawayo is the house where Ubathi killed Roger’s murderer. Not really sure what the story is there but that region saw a lot of counter-revolutionary activity, so it would follow that his murderer would seek refuge there after the cities to the south fell to the ANC. I’ll look into it more. Jamie Jefferson Researcher & Archivist Atlanta Filmmaker’s Bureau ~*~*~ From: ahaskins@atl.filmmakers.synd To: all@atl.filmmakers.synd Sent: 8:56 AM October 30, 2010 Subject: We Have Our Film! Body: We spent all weekend going over the material provided to us by the South African Ministry of Defence and goddamn, we have our movie! Here’s the basic outline: Ubathi Masuku, tough young lady, is fighting to liberate South Africa with a dashing Brit who she has feelings for. They get ambushed! The Brit is captured! Oh no! Ubathi resolves to rescue her comrade, but tragedy strikes when regime forces burn down her mother’s house and leave the Brit’s head as a warning! She’s not intimidated by this, she’s mad as hell! So, she picks out of a group of new arrivals a handsome young man who made a vow that he would help free Africa the way his father fought to free America. Joshua Brown is in the squad and they have a mission: Find everybody responsible for terrorizing her family and executing their people. They all have to pay! As Ubathi, Joshua and the squad work to bring justice to the murderers, Joshua and Ubathi bond and fall in love! It’s got it all! Loss! Love! Action! We don’t have to make up too many things! This is our movie! I can’t wait to make it happen with all of you. Andrea Haskins Bureau Chief Atlanta Filmmaker’s Bureau ~*~*~ From: ahaskins@atl.filmmakers.synd To: tcarter@atl.filmmakers.synd Sent: 10:56 PM April 26, 2012 Subject: just for you Body: I wanted you to be the first person in the bureau to know this because this all started with you. We did it. Gold Medal. Headliner of the Pan-African Film Festival. In our own city. On our own terms. Those smug bastards in Los Angeles can eat our WHOLE rear end, and it all started with you not being too embarrassed to show your terribly written middle school paper to all your comrades. Thank you so much. Andrea Haskins Bureau Chief Atlanta Filmmaker’s Bureau ~*~*~ From: jyang@lax.filmmakers.synd To: ahaskins@atl.filmmakers.synd Sent: 6:45 PM May 5, 2012 Subject: Loved the movie! Heya Andrea! Just wanted to pass along congratulations on the big honor! Masuku’s Marauders, The Atlanta Bureau’s first headliner of a major film festival! Who would have thought when we were roommates at Haywood that we’d both have major headliners!   I did see the film and I have to say the ending was masterful! Joshua avoiding talking to Ubathi about what he’ll do after the war the whole film. And then he finally says he wants to stay! I. Was. SOBBING!! Where’d you find these actors?! They really made it all work.  The whole final scene where they go to the manor of Colonel Van Onselen was so great. They’re not just walking happily into the sunset, no that’s way too simplistic. Instead they find this quiet idyllic manor, and after every terrible thing that has happened, they are in this peaceful quaint little place removed from it all. Every bit of peace and pleasantness Van Onselen had in his life was gained from the cruelty he inflicted on others. And after all of that, Ubathi had taken it from him. That’s what she’s experiencing when she sits on his furniture and just sobs because she’s SO TIRED. That catharsis… I felt that. Does the revolutionary exult in their glory so much as they struggle to gain the opportunity to have that kind of catharsis and healing in peace and under their own sovereignty? Rhetorical question, of course. We should get together and chat about our different angles on it. Just like the old days in our dorm.  Love and miss you, Jenny Yang Bureau Chief Los Angeles Filmmaker’s Bureau
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Mar 13, 2019 09:20
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Kavak posted:So if the worst comes to pass, what's the other forum this is being posted on? Paradox? It's all mirrored on my wordpress site which is less than perfect but other than a few other small forums, one of which might go down soon, this is where it's at. If the longevity of SA is in doubt again, I'd certainly like to find somewhere else to go where people can continue to give feedback and participate because that's a great part of doing this and part of why I still do. unbutthurtable posted:like all good syndicalists, this thread should just go wherever the cspam zeitgeist goes hey thanks Crazycryodude posted:I feel like it could use at least 400% more trains but yeah it is Very Good you have no idea how many updates I've scrapped because I tried to frame them in train travel and it didn't make any sense. I have spent a dumb amount of time thinking about the particulars of long-distance travel options in syndiworld. In personal news, I got an A on the paper I wrote with the data you folks provided some of and I'm now a goddamn college graduate. This hopefully means that regular updates are back. But I may also be moving across the country soon so who the gently caress knows. csm141 fucked around with this message at 17:48 on Mar 13, 2019 |
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Mar 13, 2019 09:27
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Chief Savage Man posted:It's all mirrored on my wordpress site which is less than perfect but other than a few other small forums, one of which might go down soon, this is where it's at. If the longevity of SA is in doubt again, I'd certainly like to find somewhere else to go where people can continue to give feedback and participate because that's a great part of doing this and part of why I still do. Hey, congrats Professor Savage Man, you deserve it. It looks like the forums are safe now that lowtax has his bone money. Very much enjoyed the update, and looking forward to the inevitable live action remake of LAFB's Hamlet With Lions.
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Mar 13, 2019 23:34
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This LP rules.
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Mar 13, 2019 23:40
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It's very good!
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Mar 14, 2019 01:57
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Reveilled posted:Hey, congrats Professor Savage Man, you deserve it. It looks like the forums are safe now that lowtax has his bone money. I read some of Lowtax's posts and I feel really badly for him, but as I'm probably even worse off than he at the moment, there's not much I can do unless he needs volunteers to do modding things or what have you. Barring that, I'll have to content myself with the account and various accoutrements that were bought years ago.
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Mar 14, 2019 02:32
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Hey, congrats on the college! Glad to see the LP is back.
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Mar 14, 2019 03:10
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Chief Savage Man posted:Luckily, I have it on good authority that Los Angeles has chosen their concept. I’m told that it’s basically Hamlet but the characters are all lions in the savanna. It sounds moronic. So The Lion King still gets made in this universe, but presumably without nearly as much success. On the other hand, at least that means no Simba's Pride or 1 & 1/2!
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Mar 14, 2019 07:54
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Chief Savage Man posted:I’m told that it’s basically Hamlet but the characters are all lions in the savanna. It sounds moronic. Hmmmm.
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Mar 15, 2019 22:26
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Those assholes in LA 
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Mar 16, 2019 01:37
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Now Henry the IVth but with Lions, then you'd be cooking with gas.
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Mar 16, 2019 02:51
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Why not Coriolanus with lions? Or A Midsummer Night's Dream with Lions? The possibilities are endless!
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Mar 16, 2019 04:01
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Titus Andronicus with lions actually would work pretty well.
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Mar 16, 2019 19:39
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So, I'm partially just checking in to see if more updates are coming in soon. But also, I was re-reading the thread and this comment: "Teanna hated fighting Qing. Especially as America." strikes me as very ominous.
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Jul 5, 2019 01:27
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Lustful Man Hugs posted:So, I'm partially just checking in to see if more updates are coming in soon. But also, I was re-reading the thread and this comment: Getting there! This next one has been challenging for some specific reasons. Also, graduating didn't clear my schedule the way I thought it would. I really do appreciate people still being interested despite the delays. I am constantly thinking about the LP and ideas for it and have not forgotten it. Just hoping to get my life back in a place where I have more structure and can re establish a good work flow as it pertains to this LP.
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Jul 8, 2019 02:21
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Almost impossible to believe it's in it's fifth year. I know I'll be following along til the end.
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Jul 8, 2019 02:42
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Posting because I'm anxious the thread is gonna get archived (I don't know how that works) but I do have the update finished finally and it will be up shortly once some helpful folks have had a pass at it and I'm done editing it. Thank you for your patience. I thought finishing my degree would clear a lot of things up but that just leads into a different set of time sinks. Finally being able to work on this again has been a great reminder of why I love doing it, so I look forward to getting into it more regularly again.
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Oct 11, 2019 16:40
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Glad to hear you're back at it, CSM! As always, I look forward to reading what comes next.
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Oct 11, 2019 17:53
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That's awesome! Glad to hear it.
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Oct 11, 2019 21:42
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Chapter Seven: The Haole War (February 24 – March 11, 1945)quote:INTERNATIONALE WAR COUNCIL BUSINESS – TOP SECRET quote:INTERNATIONALE WAR COUNCIL BUSINESS – TOP SECRET ~*~*~ It was anxiety-inducing to be here, but the warmth of the sun on her skin was helping to ease some of it. She had moved to a completely new country where she knew one person, who she had yet to even meet face to face. And she was making the jump into a radically different occupation than what she had done back home. 1980 was shaping up to be a very interesting year for her. She was unbearably nervous, but at least she unbearably nervous in a place where it was seventy-five degrees in February. The ruckus of an arriving bus shook her out of her rumination. The placard in the window read WAIKIKI. She would be getting off before then. The bus was painted green and emblazoned with the flag of the People’s Republic of Hawai’i, with its red, white and blue stripes and a red star on a white background in the canton. Written underneath was the name of the nation and the transit authority in both Hawaiian and English. Next to all of this read RESIDENT BUS – NO TOURISTS OR MILITARY. This was only in English. If you could read Hawaiian, odds were that warning didn’t apply to you. The doors opened, revealing the skeptical face of a Hawaiian man in the driver’s seat. Heather stepped onto the bus and handed over her pass. The driver held it up to the light and handed it back without further comment. Heather took this as permission to board. There were about twenty passengers. This bus was used by locals, on their way to work or some other errand. Tourists and military had their own buses and weren’t allowed on this one. Locals could use any bus they wished, other than busses headed to secure military locations, but from what Heather had observed in her day and a half here, the locals rarely used any bus besides the green resident-only ones. The people on this bus knew each other. Heather was new and unusual. About half the passengers looked up to investigate the new arrival. One face in particular drew her eye. It belonged to a middle-aged white woman sitting near the back. To Heather’s surprise, the woman waved and beckoned her over. She seemed nice… so why not? Heather made her way towards the seat next to the mystery friendly woman. “Heather?” She was taken aback by this. “Y-Yes?” The woman chuckled. “I can tell a newbie from a mile away. Sit down, please.” This was all very jarring, but Heather did as she was asked regardless. “Leilani asked me to meet you and make sure you got onto the bus alright. I was going to jump off and make sure you got on, if need be, but you seemed to figure that much out.” “Um… yes.” “Name’s Anna.” “Nice to meet you. Are you, uh, part of the syndicate?” “Not anymore. Leilani and I founded it, way back when, but I gave it up fifteen years ago. Became a swim coach, but I still help Leilani out with a couple things when she needs a hand. Like helping somebody figure out the busses.” “It’s very strange. Different busses for different people, I mean, I’ve never seen anything like that before.” Anna smirked before replying. “That’s how it goes in Honolulu, dear. You’ll find things work differently out here on the periphery of the empire. How are you adjusting so far?” Heather wasn’t quite sure what Anna meant by that. What empire? She shoved the confusion aside and answered Anna’s inquiry. “Okay, I think. The weather is lovely and all, but I don’t know anybody yet. It’ll be nice to meet some people, and to uh… get to work.” Anna’s smirk broadened into a more sincere grin. “Leilani and the girls are good people. If you do right by them, they will do right by you.” Heather examined Anna’s tanned face and sun-bleached blonde hair as Anna stared towards the front of the bus. Heather was searching for something else to say when Anna spoke again. “I’ve heard about you, and your letters. You must be motivated by something I can’t understand to have tried so hard to join the syndicate. But… no matter how sincere about this whole thing you may be, there are things I know you don’t understand. You’ve chosen to wade into dangerous waters. You’re a brand-new white mainlander, and a lot of people will mistrust you for that. On top of all that, your new syndicate has… a complex reputation. There are so many ways this could go wrong for you.” This made Heather uneasy. She had had plenty of suspicions about how difficult this was going to be, but it still wasn’t pleasant to hear somebody confirm them. Anna lowered her head and stared at the ground. “The girls are the only people you can really trust. And the Nation is what keeps your syndicate from getting shut down, so realize that the Nation is who you depend on, not the Republic. If the Nation is on general strike, do not break it by taking any military or tourist business. Leilani will have you on the next boat to the mainland before you know it. That’s the most important thing.” Heather nodded. She knew about the Nation, the colloquial term for the legal entity that represented the sovereign rights of the native Hawaiian people, and its many confrontations with the Republic, the state which was internationally recognized as having sovereignty over the archipelago. Her syndicate was chartered under the sovereign authority of the Hawaiian nation and operated on land to which the nation held exclusive rights. The Nation, at Leilani’s behest, had granted her residency rights. They could easily revoke them. That was simple enough to understand. “I appreciate the advice. Any other tips for a newcomer?” Heather forced a smile and tried to be a good student, partially to get more useful information but also to make this woman like her more. She was the only person who had spoken to her for more than ten seconds. She could be a friend. She needed some of those. “Let’s see… Learn Hawaiian, there’s plenty of classes at the university. There’s less tourists on the trails than the beaches if you’re looking to get away from the city for some fresh air. Don’t package up any sand to send to your mom or your aunt or your postman back home, it’s illegal to do that. And just… be aware of your position here. You are yet another settler in a long line of settlers. You may end up living here a long time but always hang onto the mindset that you’re a guest. It’ll serve you well.” Heather met Anna’s kind eyes and smiled, this time without having to force it. For the first time since she’d arrived, she felt as though somebody knew she existed. This woman was kind to be so helpful. She should try to get to know her. “I really do appreciate it, Anna. Have you always lived here?”  “No. I am from Calgary. My parents fled when the Canadian army began to collapse against the Internationale, and this was going to be where my father helped marshal the great Entente counterattack to take back North America. Didn’t work out, obviously.” Heather wasn’t sure whether this supposed to be a funny comment or just a dry one. It was safer not to laugh. “What happened to him?” “Blown up. Caught out in an air raid.” “Yeesh… sorry.” “Eh, he was going to get himself killed eventually. He refused to give up on his King, as if that man would have lifted a finger for him. If it hadn’t happened here, he would have dragged us somewhere else and died there. I’m not glad he went out that way, things were tough without him but I’m glad things happened in such a way so that I could end up spending my life here.” Heather had accidentally waded into some fraught territory for Anna. For a first conversation with somebody, this was particularly intense. She decided to move on from this morbid subject. “So, what’d you do after that?”   “I was seventeen when he died. So, I had to work to help my mother keep things together. Worked at Pearl Harbor, keeping the kitchens clean, and then I met Leilani when the Australasians threw a parade and a huge dance to celebrate sinking an American battleship and forcing them to retreat to the mainland. And I told her what I was earning working on the base and she said I could make a lot more.” Anna looked up at Heather and did a little shrug and smile, as if to say And so here I am. The two fell silent again as Anna looked away and began to stare at the floor of the bus. Anna spoke again after a couple seconds. “Sorry, Heather. I’m sure you’d like to hear more of my story, but the war is a time I don’t like to talk about.” “That is understandable.” “Hawai’i was a colony. In some ways, it still is. It was a warzone. It could be again one day. The sunshine and the beauty and the frivolity can make you forget that. You can’t forget that. As unpleasant as it can be, you must always remember whose blood has stained the ground you walk on. To forget that is to become part of the problem.” The bus lurched to a stop in front of a rectangular building with no windows. A middle-aged Hawaiian woman was standing out front sweeping the sidewalk. Anna looked back up at Heather and offered a handshake, which Heather accepted. “Well, dear, here’s your stop. Welcome to the most interesting job you’ll ever have.” ~*~*~*~ Thirty-five years earlier “We’re running low on food.”  “What else is new? We haven’t had any decent food on this island for years.” Leilani drew a sharp breath. All Marie ever did was complain. She should have left her behind in Honolulu. To still be complaining, at a time like this? It was enough to push Leilani to her limits.  Leilani had been waiting to meet a customer outside the gates to Pearl Harbor when the base mustered in a way she’d never seen before. She guessed, accurately, that it meant that the day the occupiers had been warning about for years had finally come. The Red Menace, the socialist horde, the vile godless heathens, the demons who stalked the nightmares of the haoles. They were coming.  Air raid sirens started going off the next night. That’s when Leilani gathered the girls and made her proposal.  The Reds were finally back, after all these years, she told them. And Honolulu was about to be ground zero of the world war. Bombs and shells would fall around them, street battles would begin. They were not safe on Hotel Street, she had said, and they should follow her out of the city, west to Mākaha Valley. Her family was there, and they would help them find a place to ride this out.  As the rest of the island figured out what was about to transpire, the Entente troops pulled back from their policing duties to man the beaches. Leilani had read in the newspapers over the years about long trains of refugees walking hundreds of miles across Europe and North America, fleeing advancing armies and searching for a safe place. That would not happen in O’ahu. Everybody was trapped here. The best thing to do was to try and stay away from the bases and airfields and artillery positions which the Reds and Entente would be fighting over. To her surprise, all the girls decided to follow Leilani. Mākaha Valley was only 25 miles from Honolulu, but Leilani could tell from their questions that it seemed like an entirely different world to them. None of them had even had occasion to go to that side of the island before. A palpable sense of danger had hung over Honolulu as normal daily life ceased, and panicked preparation took its place. In all these years, they had felt relatively safe in the knowledge that they could call upon the Entente military police to deal with anybody trying to menace them. With that presence gone, who knew what could happen? If a gang appeared at their doorstep, who would they call? By contrast, Mākaha Valley was remote and more or less free of the military, at least as far Leilani remembered. Leilani convinced the girls of her belief that the invading armies would bypass it entirely, focused instead on Pearl Harbor and Schofield Barracks to the east. It had to be a better option than staying where they were.  Their refugee party, numbering twelve, made their trek across the island in one long day, leaving before sunset and arriving as darkness set in. Soldiers were too busy preparing for the fight of their life to bother them, and so they made it to the valley before the invasion began. Marie, the complainer, freaked out at the first distant rumbles. The Reds were indeed landing at the base of the valley, and they were being accosted by Entente artillery positions further up on the Wai’anae Range. Leilani’s mother had suggested a small cave a few miles up the valley. The entrance was obscured by forest, and it was not near the paths one would take to try and scale the mountains. Entente defensive artillery and Red battleships were firing over them, but neither side was aiming for this particular patch of land. This was the best they could do. And so, they had continued to do the best they could for the last six days.  Today, they were sitting around the cave, as they had done every day, their conversations occasionally interrupted by the ferocious vibration that meant a salvo from a Red battleship had not been aimed properly. Their talking would abruptly cease, and a silence would take hold of them. They would then look around at one another, assure themselves that they were okay and shake off the aftereffects of the terror. It hadn’t gotten any easier to deal with, knowing that it took one unlucky shot to wipe them all out. Leilani’s mother had fashioned a white flag to hang out front and scrawled UNARMED on it using some mud. Good thing both sides spoke English. It had been quite the debate, but they had all eventually settled on putting the flag out rather than trying to remain undetected. What if there were some troops outside who saw them in the cave and mistook them for enemies? Marie was complaining, yet again, that they should have tried to go to Moloka’i. There were rumors that the occupiers had lost control of Moloka’i, Maui and Lanai, and that a militia fat with supplies from France was accepting all refugees. It was a very compelling story, but there was no way of knowing if it was true, and, more importantly, Moloka’i was twenty-five miles away from O’ahu. It had been quite the adventure getting everybody here, and Marie was claiming they should have done a similar journey to the east, and then cross over to Moloka’i. That none of them knew anything about sailing and that they didn’t have a boat was an unimportant detail. Leilani had had enough. “Anna.” Anna, her most reliable friend, was sitting up against some rocks and staring a hole into the ground. She was tuning out Marie’s nonsense and didn’t react to the sound of her name. “Anna!” She snapped out of her trance and met Leilani’s eyes. “Yes?” “I want to go see if we can maybe get into one of the farms and grab some fruit or something. You see better than I do at night, you should come along.” Leilani looked right at her and saw in Anna’s eyes that she could tell Leilani was lying. “Sure thing.” ~*~*~ “’You see better than I do at night’ she says, you are so full of poo poo. You know I can’t see anything even in broad daylight.” Leilani let out a laugh. “I know. I just wanted to talk to you alone for a little while. I’m losing my mind in there.” “Tell me about it. I think Manami is about to snap and kill Marie.” “At least we’d get some quiet.”  It was dark and the rain was falling all around them in the forest, the thousands of drops making plenty of noise as they struck the leaves. It had been raining for the better part of the last three days. They were getting soaking wet, but they were both used to that by now. Safety trumped comfort. The rain and the darkness were helping to hide them, and their voices would not carry far with the din of the forest. “God, we look like poo poo, Lani.” Anna said, with a laugh. Leilani laughed as well. There was a full moon. As they walked, some of its light would peek through the foliage and illuminate their faces for a few seconds. They did look like poo poo. The two women who survived the last few years by always looking desirable and glamorous now looked like… well, as if they lived in a cave. “Do you think the Reds are bringing some of the good shampoo with them?” Leilani joked.  “I hope so. Lani, do you think they’re gonna win?”  “I have no doubt. When the rain clears, they’ll be able to fly their planes again, they’ll bomb all those guns up on the mountains and then nothing will be stopping them from marching on the harbor and the city.” Anna hummed a quick hum of agreeance, the kind of hum that said You sound confident about that so I’m going to agree with you even though I don’t really know.  “Besides, you know as well as I do. The Republic militias are run by the most stupid men in the world.” Leilani continued. Anna chortled. “Yeah, you’re right. They wouldn’t know which way to shoot if it weren’t for the Aussies. Let’s just hope they last as long in battle as they do in bed.” “Well poo poo, if that were the case, we’d have been singing the Internationale the minute the Reds appeared on the horizon.” The two friends laughed.  “The Aussies will hold out longer, but they’re bound to run out of supplies sooner or later. The Reds though, they can just bring in more and more, as much as they need. They’ll wipe them out.”  Anna nodded. “You’re right. Say, Lani, what do you make of the Reds, anyway?”  “I don’t know, Annie, I’ve never met one. I really doubt they’ll be any worse than the Entente. So, I’ll take my chances with them. At the very least, we’ll be reconnected to the mainland. Hopefully that means the store shelves will fill back up.”  Leilani stopped and sat on a large rock with a flat enough top to act as a decent stool. She slid over to make room for Anna, who took a seat as well before speaking. “Does it make you sad? To think about all the soldiers and sailors who came to us for some comfort. Now they’re out there dying, some of them so far from home.” “Not at all. If they had stayed home, then my home wouldn’t be getting shelled and bombed. Their dying is the least of my concerns.” “Ah. Of course. Sorry for the dumb question.” A gust blew through the forest, chilling the soaked pair. Leilani huddled closer to her friend, hoping for some warmth. Anna leaned her head on her taller friend’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Annie.” There was a question that hung heavy on Leilani’s mind. The others had been clear on what they hoped to do once this was all over. Marie had come to Hawaii from San Francisco planning on working on Hotel Street for six months and then taking the money back home to buy some property. Three months later, the Reds invaded California, and so her six-month bid turned into a four year one. She was more than ready to get off this island. Manami planned to join the Red Army. She had heard all the horrified talk from the Entente soldiers about how the Reds let women join the army and hoped it was true. Some of the others were hoping there would be new jobs opening up once the Reds took over. They were ready to give up this life, maybe even snag a handsome Red for a husband. After so many years of such an extraordinary situation on O’ahu, most people just wanted some normality for a change. The thing that bothered Leilani was that Anna had never mentioned any plans. There was no better time than now to ask, though she dreaded what she might hear. Leilani didn’t want her to leave. She had come to depend on her. “Say… Annie… what are you thinking about doing once this is over?” Anna was quiet for a moment then leaned forward to stare at the ground again. She did that a lot. It’s how Leilani knew she was thinking about something. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll stay here. I don’t have anywhere else to go. How about you?”  Leilani smiled. “Well, I would like to think that I could come back here, to the valley, and maybe live on one of these farms after the Reds toss out the owners. I want to believe that they’ll return it to my people, and that we can finally be left alone on our own land.” “I sense a but in there, Lani.” “But… there’s going to be more of them than ever, I think. More soldiers I mean.”  Anna looked up from the ground and back at Leilani, the full moon reflecting off her inquisitive eyes. “You think so?” “Yes. Think about the map of the Pacific, this place is too important to them. The Reds aren’t going to just go home after this. They’re going to keep going across the ocean, and they’ll need the harbor to make that happen. And so, they’ll bring more soldiers.” “What does that have to do with us, Lani?” “I read something a while ago in the newspaper about an independent brothel in Barcelona. Owned by the girls, run by the girls, completely by their own rules. Totally legal, nobody is allowed to harass them, and they don’t cut anybody in. Apparently, in their system, anybody who produces something that other people want is entitled to run their own affairs, and to have power within the government.” “Is that what you want to do? Start some kind of… sex syndicate?” “No, that’s not what I want to do. Part of me never wants to see Honolulu again but… I just don’t think things will change just because there’s a new army in place of the old one. Wherever there are idle soldiers, there’s a demand for people who do what we do. Whoever ends up doing that is going to need somebody to look out for them, somebody who knows what it’s like.” “Somebody like us.” Anna looked up, and Leilani could see that her brain was starting to race. She stood and turned towards Leilani, with a fire in her eyes that Leilani hadn’t seen in a long time. “Lani, you’re the person I care about the most on this whole planet. If you want to come out here and grow pineapples, I’ll come with you. If you want to build a rocket and fly to the moon, I’ll go with you. And dammit, if you want to start a sex syndicate, I’ll do it with you. If that’s what it takes, we’ll do it. Nobody should have to put up with what we put up with.” Leilani exhaled. Anna understood. She knew she would. “Thank you, my friend.”
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Oct 12, 2019 09:30
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IT RETURNS! 
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Oct 12, 2019 10:31
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Leilani had better have started some kind of sex workers' union, is all I'm saying 
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Oct 12, 2019 14:06
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That's the idea, more or less.
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Oct 12, 2019 21:41
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Just gals being pals
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Oct 13, 2019 01:40
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Back in business! So minus some more outlying islands and Guam, we've retaken all lost U.S. territory. They'll all end up autonomous-to-independent like Puerto Rico, but we're just a bit closer to total victory.
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Oct 13, 2019 04:59
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Awww. I hope things turn out OK for them. 
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Oct 13, 2019 15:31
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Cracking Hawaii was a pretty big step. I can't imagine the land invasion of Australia is very far off. I don't know if things accelerate after that or what. There's clearly still reactionary assholes and liberal democracies left in the world, but as we've seen from the glimpses into the Middle East, the socialist world doesn't consider it necessary or desirable to just crush them all outright on principle. Either way, Australia falling would make for the end of the big wars we've been in so far. And I suppose this section WAS called War Plan Orange, so... we may see Japan sooner or later.
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Jan 16, 2020 00:28
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I guess the King could flee to like, Delhi? Is Delhi still around?
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Jan 16, 2020 02:19
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paragon1 posted:I guess the King could flee to like, Delhi? Is Delhi still around? Turkestan conquered them. Wouldn't be surprised if Japan becomes the final member of the Entente for RP reasons.
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Jan 16, 2020 03:45
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The thing that saved Ed the last time was very explicitly that the CSA didn't want all of Europe's monarchies uniting with Germany to go after them if they killed the guy. But, well, now there aren't exactly a lot of monarchs left in Europe, or anywhere else on the planet for that matter. I can't imagine another escape attempt is going to go well for him.
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Jan 25, 2020 00:22
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Redeye Flight posted:The thing that saved Ed the last time was very explicitly that the CSA didn't want all of Europe's monarchies uniting with Germany to go after them if they killed the guy. But, well, now there aren't exactly a lot of monarchs left in Europe, or anywhere else on the planet for that matter. That being said, the Syndicalists have the luxury of magnanimity that they didn't have a few years ago. Having solid control of three continents has a way of granting you immense amounts of confidence and patience. Fun Note: When considering the strategic position of the Internationale at this point in time, I realised they control barely any of the world's rubber production, but a considerable portion of the world's fossil fuels. P.S. Is this campaign still alive?
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Apr 28, 2020 22:49
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Chapter Eight: Home By May Day (Late April 1945) Excerpt from transcript of the Father Hickey Call-In Hour from April 22, 1945. Originally aired on WBBM in Chicago, Illinois. HICKEY: I’d like to read you a small portion of a news story from the Proletarian. Utterly buried underneath all the jingoist celebration. “Missing Spokane resident, Jeanne Sorensen, 14, was found dead in a gulch five miles to the northeast of Felts Field. Miss Sorensen was killed by shrapnel from a heretofore unexploded artillery shell left over from the 1940 battle. Spokane Mayor Frank Sutherlin says he has previously asked the army for assistance in clearing ordnance, but that only one team was ever sent. That team, according to the mayor, disappeared when war broke out against Germany.” This was on… let me see… page 16. Buried underneath pages about the latest glorious victory for the Internationale. We’ve still got real problems in America, friends, and I think it’s far past time we realize how the Gitlow gang has been using the military to distract us from those problems. Where’s the health service we were promised? When will the wartime work hours end? When will rationing end? How many nations must we conquer? Answer me this, Mr. Gitlow, when will this all be over? When we went to war with Canada and then Germany, we knew what the goal was. What is the goal now? Let’s hear what you have to say, Chicago. Caller, you’re on the air. CALLER 1: Good evening, Father. HICKEY: Good evening.  CALLER 1: With all due respect, I think you’re upset about this just because it’s a Catholic nation being attacked. HICKEY: *scoffing noise* CALLER 1: I just don’t remember you having this much to say about Iceland. HICKEY: If every person who has accused me of being a Vatican spy could go find and remove one unexploded shell, then Washington would be clear in a day. Honestly, maybe even Flanders. CALLER 1: I’m not saying you’re a spy, I’m just- HICKEY: Goodbye. I’ve been over that a hundred times and I don’t need to go over it again. Caller, you’re on the air. CALLER 2: Heya padre. HICKEY: Hello.  CALLER 2: I don’t see what you’re so upset about. Portugal is a colonial empire. Destroying colonialists is inherent to the Internationale’s mission. HICKEY: You’re misunderstanding my point here. My point is not that there should not be a war against the Salazar regime. I find all of this combat and death regrettable, but I understand the moral justification for cutting the head off of a colonial regime.  My problem here is with how something so grave as war is being used as a stunt for cheap political gain. Indeed, just look at the news stories and what the Chairman has to say about it. Oh, isn’t it so grand that our neighbor armies are all grown up and doing a war by themselves? Surely, we must stay on war hours indefinitely so we can help the Quebecers get better at killing. Never mind that the residents of Quebec want their boys home just as much as we do.  And all while the big brother Americans handle the Azores. It’s all so international and lovely, a regular Spartakiade of death and destruction. That is my issue here. The Gitlow gang is failing their responsibility to protect their citizens’ welfare, so they are seeking ever more military glories, so the front pages don’t show you how we’re still dying and suffering in our very homeland. And if we get the Mexicans to do the heavy lifting, all the better. It hides the cost of war from our population if the reports of casualties appear in the Mexico City newspapers instead of ours.  We must be more critical of how these little wars are being sold to us. Gitlow wants us to think that there’s a new war, a kind that is nice and tidy and glorious, and that we should continue to stay on war footing indefinitely to win ever nicer and tidier and more glorious little wars. But in reality, he needs that war footing so that your long hours can patch up the holes left by his inability to manage the economy. That is what this is all about! Indeed, it is a good development for Mozambique to be freed, but that’s not what Gitlow is after. If that was so important then American troops could have easily swept up Portugal when they invaded Spain. Gitlow is after the headlines, the cheap glory, a temporary reprieve from the justified anger of the population he is failing. Caller, you’re on the air. CALLER 3: What a goddamn load of reacti- HICKEY: Please do not take the Lord’s name in vain on my program. And I am no reactionary. I will remind you that when some of you were but scrawny schoolchildren, I was out on the streets in this fair city, offering shelter in my own church so some of the very men who now stand in the halls of power could hide from the police and MacArthur’s thugs. Don’t insult me by calling me a reactionary. Caller, you’re on the air.   CALLER 4: I think you’re overreacting to all this. Gitlow is just excited that its going so well and that the war will be over soon without much damage. I just don’t see this nefarious plot behind what he’s saying. HICKEY: There’s never “not much damage” when an armored column enters a major city. You must understand that when the papers report “minimal” damage they mean that “only” hundreds or a few thousands were killed. Anybody who says such a thing as minimal damage is either so hardened to death that they are nonplussed by things that would shock others, or they have an agenda to push. They want to assure you that everything is okay, whether it is or not. Minimal damage is when a tree falls down and hits a fence instead of a house. Nothing about war is minimal.  And more than that, never forget what happens after victory. Portugal will be without Salazar, but its also without a functioning government. That means refugees and lack of food. The roads have been crunched up and mangled. People have lost their houses. I pray that the FAI are honest in their declaration that they intend to treat the Portuguese as brothers and that this ends up as a good thing for Iberia in the end. What I’m saying is that when you see the celebration and big bold headlines, you must see past them to see what I see. See the death. See the destruction. See the scars that have yet to be healed and the deprivations we are still forced to endure. Whether we are in Lisbon or Spokane… none of us are safe until we have a true plan to end the killing and begin the process of rebuilding and healing. When will that be, Mister Gitlow? We must know, for the sake of the Jeanne Sorensens out there. Caller, you’re on the air. CALLER 5: Hey, Father, is your refrigerator running? HICKEY: …Yes? End of excerpt.
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May 2, 2020 06:20
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I am no longer making posts about how I should be back to normal because every time I do that something insane happens in my life and I lose focus, or a plague starts. I will definitely finish this, I just make no promises about how long it will take. I am trying to change my approach so that not every update turns into a novel chapter that I spend too much time overthinking rather than  ing because I do still enjoy doing this and I'm trying very much not to get into a weird headspace about it and leaving it 85% done like so many other things. Hopefully that will help me fit more of this into my schedule. Happy May Day!Anyway, a note about some weirdness the game itself. You might notice in the last screenshot that Portugal surrendered and formed a government-in-exile. This is another case of the event system in this game/mod being designed for highly particular situations and thus being unsuited to all eventualities (this has happened other times because a lot of events in this version were written for France or Britain to take over key points but not America). The events that trigger for a war between CNT-FAI and Portugal are clearly intended for an independent CNT-FAI or a CNT-FAI that only has European allies fighting Portugal. Thus, in that scenario, a government-in-exile is a nice way for the CNT-FAI to wrap up a war against Portugal because the CNT-FAI is not going to have the capability to invade Mozambique. What this event did was end our war with Portugal and create a new Portuguese state in Mozambique that we have a long truce with. This clearly goes against all logic of the universe that my particular campaign is set in. This war was a global alliance crushing an enemy across multiple theaters and the Internationale would never let Mozambique get away. I do, eventually, invade the rump state in Mozambique when the truce ends, but I'm making an executive decision that it is now CANON that Mozambique was liberated and released and is now part of the African Union because thats what actually makes sense. I probably should have just done a console thing to annex the new tag but I didn't think of it. So if you do see an independent neutral state in Mozambique in future screenshots, that's what it is.
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May 2, 2020 06:33
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part of me agrees with the callers, bc it really does seem like Dickey has an agenda here, but part of me cant dispute the fact that theres nothing Good about war. it can be necessary here, but that doesnt make it good hopefully the conquests will soon end and the nation building can truly begin..
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May 2, 2020 15:46
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I think this is his overall pointquote:What I’m saying is that when you see the celebration and big bold headlines, you must see past them to see what I see. See the death. See the destruction. See the scars that have yet to be healed and the deprivations we are still forced to endure. Whether we are in Lisbon or Spokane… none of us are safe until we have a true plan to end the killing and begin the process of rebuilding and healing. When will that be, Mister Gitlow? We must know, for the sake of the Jeanne Sorensens out there. He knows what war means, and really every one of his callers should know too. Is this really the only way? The Dutch still have colonies IIRC, are we going to crush them next? It's not like this is new for the CSA though- we had saving the CNT-FAI as an excuse when we invaded Spain prior to war with the Pact, but we still tore straight through neutral Libya, Egypt, etc.
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May 2, 2020 15:56
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zanni posted:part of me agrees with the callers, bc it really does seem like Dickey has an agenda here, but part of me cant dispute the fact that theres nothing Good about war. Most agendas like this don't get to be successful without at least a grain of truth. eta: It does say a lot tho that he can't convince anyone to help out his program by screening his callers. 
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May 2, 2020 16:15
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It's possible there is another agenda. It's possible he is sincerely an isolationist and against the act of killing. Or it's possible he has some unconscious bias towards Salazar and the "Estado Novo". But it is ambiguous and there it is. I'm glad to see this back, by the way. Tomoe Goonzen fucked around with this message at 17:12 on May 2, 2020 |
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May 2, 2020 17:10
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I think Hickey's a well-written character, and the discussion about his motives is proof of that. Nice to see this is back.
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May 2, 2020 18:21
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We must investigate his ties with Padre Gorgos
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May 3, 2020 06:29
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By the way, are we seeing the use of Jets/Helicopters in warfare yet?
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Jun 7, 2020 07:24
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