Reich Marshal of the Belkan Reich

RM Vol 4: War – Chapter 61: Case Yellow (Day 16 – Warsaw and Moscow)

Warsaw. A short time before the landing of Belkan Airborne Divisions.

Ever since the event that has been dubbed as the Warsaw clusterfuck in the Belkan High Command, the Belkan Reich has long since recalled its official embassy in the Polanian capital city. Quite frankly, the Reich sees no point in upholding a continuing presence in the city of Warsaw. Given the tumultuous time ahead, an active embassy in Polania is a major security threat to the well-being of whoever is posted there. The concern is similarly shared by the Rusviet Union, with the nation bordering Polania also pulling back its diplomatic branch. However, unlike the Union which promptly recalled all of its embassy staff, the Belkan Reich still retained a diplomatic envoy. The Belkan envoy is needed in Warsaw for one thing and one thing only.

To deliver a Declaration of War and the nefarious steps the Polanian Revolutionary Command Council has ordered and taken for the situation to deteriorate to the point of being unsalvageable.

When the Belkan ambassador in Warsaw receives the alert, calling for his immediate action, he starts storming into the heart of Warsaw with a politically trained facade of righteous indignation. Along with him is nearly the entirety of his retinue. While their number isn't large, they're the ones to carry the most critical documents and evidence to be thrown into the face of the Polanian Revolutionary Command Council. More than that, the ambassador's envoy arrives heavily armed, escorted by the men and women in black toting rifles and submachine guns. The sheer killing aura they radiate nearly causes the Polanian soldiers guarding the Council building to engage them in a shootout. However, a firefight is thankfully avoided when the night watch Captain recognizes the flags flying on the envoy's motorcade. While the Polanian Captain doesn't know why the Belkans return to the Council building with guns, he isn't privy to certain classified information after all, he does know that he isn't paid well enough to handle a host of angry Belkans in this ungodly hour of the night. So, instead, much to the nervousness and confusion of his subordinate, the night watch Captain waved the armed envoy through and allowed them a clear entry to the mostly unoccupied Council building.

What the Belkans and the political knuckleheads will be shouting at each other, the Polanian Captain doesn't even want to be bothered with. Right now, he wants to finish his shift in one piece.

When half an hour has passed, the same envoy storms back out of the building, this time with less of their luggage but much more miffed. From what limited understanding of the Belkan language the night watch Captain has, it appears that the Revolutionary Command Council ghosted the envoy. While it can be understood that there's no council member in the middle of the night so the envoy came for nothing, the beats and drums the Belkans sounded on their arrival indicated they came with serious business. Quite frankly, at least a council member should have come when runners were sent by the remaining staff in the Council building. Yet, contrary to expectation, the Belkan envoy is met with perfunctory dismissal by the night staff, it's an attitude that incensed the envoy to no end.

Nonetheless, the envoy still achieves what he is tasked with by literally throwing the Belkan declaration of war, alongside the justification and whatever else included in the data package, into the face of the clerk lady who acted all high and mighty. The envoy was granted a cathartic sense of relief when that annoying clerk saw the declaration in bold lettering. When the Polanian staff wakes up from her stupor and realizes that she has fucked up, the Belkans are already mounting back on their motorcade, poised to make their journey out of Warsaw. The clerk has previously dismissed the envoy's request to meet the council, citing that they should return later in the morning. However, she now fears that they won't ever return at all after dropping a major political bomb. How will she explain this to the councilors afterward? Much to the Polanian clerk's mounting dread, the Belkans leave before she can voice for their return. Her job is pretty much doomed from this point onward, but that's not important now, ain't it?

War has come to the Polanians, a war brought for by the stupidity of their elites. And to drive that point home even further, leaflets and parachuted containers start floating down from the night sky. They land in major Polanian populous centers, with them detailing or carrying in them evidence of further Polanian leadership's misdeeds. Not stopping there, the Belkan Reich hijacks the Polanian civilian radio waves, blasting their propaganda on the repeat. Starting from the few late sleepers who either pick up a pamphlet or listen to a late-night broadcast, entire Polanian neighborhoods are woken up to learn the alarming news. Some are confused, some are still sleepy and think that they are in a lucid dream. Others even scoff at the notion that it's the Revolutionary Command Council that is in the wrong. Yet, it doesn't change the fact that they are now at war with Belka, a superpower as enigmatic as they are powerful. To the rising dread of many, the pamphlets and airdropped containers mean that Belkan aircraft are already invading Polanian airspace. For the common people, it means that a bomb can be dropped at any moment.

So, even before the Revolutionary Command Council can even get out of its bed, the citizens are already going into panic mode as soldiers and policemen struggle to maintain any semblance of order. Warsaw, in particular, is boiling itself alive as many still remember the firestorm the Reich Marshal incited with her personal aircraft. This is quite unsurprising, for the scars left behind from the rescuing of Thomas the Train are still fresh.

They reap what they sow.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

To the East of Polania, in the heart of the Red Movement. Moscow.

Unlike the lackluster response from the Polanian Revolutionary Command Council, Stalin's cabinet and the Secretary General himself took to the surprise visit of the Belkan embassy quite seriously. After all, the Belkan ambassador came with a certain keyword announced. A keyword pertaining to the growing situation in Polania. While his unfortunate counterpart in Warsaw was turned away unceremoniously, Ambassador Hakan Ribbentrop was received well and had all the time he needed to explain the Polania matter.

By now, the discussion is nearly at its end.

Stalin turns to his military generals, his unspoken question is easily understood by them. One of them stands up from his seat to report.

"Comrade Secretary General, come morning, we can immediately mobilize 2 Army Corps and a thousand tanks to spearhead the assault."

"The Air Force vouches to support our comrades on land with 500 aircraft on the first day. It will take us some time to mobilize the rest to accompany the rest of the land armies."

"Our naval fleets are ready as well. If need be, we can perform shore bombardment using our battleships against coastal Polanian cities."

"While the circumstances developed unexpectedly, we are confident that we can blaze a swift path and breach the now weakly defended Polanian borders, even if we can't muster all of our strength just yet."

"Since the Polanians played a foolish gamble, dedicating most of their forces to the West, the Rusviet Army is in the perfect position to secure strategic sectors in Polania. We can deal them a major blow before they can muster any suitable reaction."

As the agreement for a swift and decisive kickstart of a Rusviet-Polanian war grows more vocal, Stalin raises the hand that is holding a cigar up. The action of the Secretary General silences the meeting room. Stalin takes another drag of smoke before promptly extinguishing the cigar.

"Proceed with the war plan, but not before we can throw a war declaration of our own at the Polanians... Let's say that we are deploying to protect the Slavic people from the flame of war, or whatever along that line. It's time we pay back the transgression and losses we incurred in Warsaw."

War is bad for some, but for the people in Moscow right now, war is a great thing. Some want to attain glory by triumphing over an obviously weaker foe. Some want to avenge the treatment of their kin at the hands of the Polanians. Others want to fuel Stalin's ambition. Much like Belka, the Rusviet Union has been waiting for this war to come about. The only unfortunate thing is that the Rusviets haven't received much of a warning, so it will take them some time to mobilize the majority of their Army at the borders.

Before the meeting is called off and the Belkan ambassador is to be dismissed warmly, however, Hakan Ribbentrop has something to say.

"Once again, my sincere apologies for holding you gentlemen up so late. I can surely understand the pain of leaving the fine embrace of your wife... Or your blanket if you're a single unfortunate bastard like I am."

A few chuckles can be heard from the occupants, with even Stalin showing an amused expression, clearly in a good mood after casually ordering a war. Ribbentrop then continues.

"As a gesture of goodwill and to further reinforce the bonds of our two nations, the Reich has specifically prepared a gift for comrade Stalin."

"A gift, you say?" Stalin leans in, and his interest is evident. "This is the first time I have ever received a gift this late, or early, depending on how you look at the time."

Ribbentrop smiles, before gesturing toward the door. "Comrades, if you will follow me, our gift is a bit too big to fit inside this room."

The generals and officials share a look at one another with curious expression. They all stand up and follow Stalin as the man walks alongside the Belkan ambassador to vacate the building. Outside, a convoy of six empty vehicles is prepared in a neat formation, with two of them being longer than the rest.

Ribbentrop presents the vehicles to Stalin and his staff.

"Comrade Secretary General, it came to the Reich Marshal's ears that you fancy the Humvee we gifted you through General Rokossovsky. As such, the Marshal tasked our factory to make new and improved vehicles that are based on the Humvee that now act as your personal ride."

As Stalin and his entourage step forward to review the six vehicles under the light, Ribbentrop adds.

"While they look quite like the old Humvee, our factory has given these vehicles improved engines, bullet-resistant armor, and windows. Nothing short of an anti-tank gun will be able to defeat their protection. Most important of all, the cars remain reliable even under extreme damage. The two limousine variants are also adorned luxuriously and even have special compartments for hidden weapons for self-defense. Externally, they are painted in army green color, a color that we know that comrade Stalin is fond of for his car."

Stalin nods, clearly pleased as he knocks his knuckle against the steel and glass on one of the limousine Humvee. The small crowd of Rusviets must admit that the Belkan craftsmanship remains impeccable from a cursory scan. Stalin then turns to Ribbentrop, asking. "Mr. Ribbentrop, do these come with spare parts?"

The Belkan ambassador smiles, understanding clearly about what will come next. "They come in quite an abundant number for your personal needs, comrade Secretary General."

Stalin smirks before stepping away from the vehicles alongside his entourage. Already, the thought of wanting to reverse engineer the Belkan Humvees is running around in Stalin's mind. But first...

Stalin waves for his bodyguards, having two of them step forward with their rifles raised. One is carrying the Mosin-Nagant Model 1891/38 bolt-action carbine while the other is holding a Gagarin-Sovetskaya Model 1935 semi-automatic rifle. Quite surprisingly, the pair opened fire on the doors and glasses of one of the limousines, multiple times in quick succession. The semi-automatic rifle, using 7.62x39 mm bullets, peppers the protective cover of the limousine, leaving behind nothing but small indents and spiderweb cracks. The carbine, chambering in 7.62x54R, causes more visible and distinct damage when compared to its shorter cousin. Yet, even at close range, none of the bullets are capable of defeating the steel armoring of the limousine. It's only when they reload and fire another full barrage that the glass windows finally give in after multiple hits by rifle-caliber projectiles. Nonetheless, it proves to the Rusviets that the protection offered by the limousine is astounding since only repeated hits on the same location could defeat the bullet-resistant glass. This level of armor for such a car is unprecedented in the Rusviet Union.

It's unsurprising that Stalin is visibly pleased after witnessing the performance of Belkan steel and glass. After all, who doesn't want to stay alive a bit more safely?

Stalin then turns to Ribbentrop. "If the limousine still rides as smooth as the old Humvee, then I am quite at a pinch in figuring out what to gift back to your wonderful Reich Marshal, Mr. Ribbentrop."

The Belkan ambassador smiles. "On her break days, the Marshal has the hobby of making delicious food for her family. I heard that the Marshal is hoping to learn some secret recipes for making Rusviet delicacies, comrade Stalin."

Stalin laughs, taking some pride in the fact the closest person he has to a foreign peer is expressing interest in learning Rusviet cuisine.

"That, Mr. Ribbentrop, can be easily arranged!"