A Young Woman's Political Record 37 (Patreon)

AN: Sorry about the delay.

ooOoo​

October 8, 1940

In the end, Zettour was able to get us a decent bargain. Germania was required to withdraw our troops from Carinthia and to draw back from our border with the Francois, re-creating the demilitarized zone. We also reaffirmed our recognition of the standing prohibition against acquiring former Imperial territory. In exchange, the Allied Kingdom and Francois Republic recognized our right to sign military alliances with any country of our choosing.

By marching our troops around and engaging in a bit of saber rattling, we had secured genuine diplomatic gains. As usual, in a world of appeasement it paid to be the bully.

The Francois Republic, with its more aggressive saber rattling, reaped even great rewards. Like us, they agreed to withdraw their troops behind their own borders. Much like our withdrawal from Carinthia, their pullback from Ildoa was rendered meaningless by the fact that they had already accomplished their goal. Muzzioli's troops were firmly in control of the country.

We did manage to secure a promise that a new Ildoan election be called, with polling places to be audited by a Waldstatter law firm, but I wasn't getting my hopes up. The election wouldn't be held until mid-December, ostensibly to give time to campaign, but in reality giving Muzzioli time to secure a firm grip on power.

There was no obvious method to punish any election fraud that took place. Judging by Muzzioli's history, the mere presence of a neutral observer wasn't going to be enough to put him on good behavior. I still intended to have Elya send some covert observation teams so that we could at least cause Muzzioli some public embarrassment by publicizing any egregious evidence of election fraud, but that was an easy thing for a would-be dictator to wave aside.

The final agreement to come out of this latest conference of Londinium was that Carinthian independence was recognized, subject to the proviso that a plebiscite be held to confirm the population's opinion on the matter. That was of course a good thing for us, as it provided a safe haven for the free Ildoan army and a convenient launching point for an invasion of Ildoa, should matters progress in that direction. Unfortunately, it made my current meeting with Luigi Falasca rather troublesome.

The subject never come up in any etiquette book that I'd ever read, but I suspected that it was considered something of a faux pas to break off a chunk of your ally's nation and declare it an independent state.

I did my best to ignore the awkward atmosphere and offered him a friendly smile as Elya escorted him into my office. "Thank you so much for coming."

"How could I refuse?"

He did seem a bit upset. Hopefully most of it was anger at the Francois for their meddling instead of at me for my wishy washy response. He composed himself before taking a seat. We were facing each other across a small table near one of the windows in my office, which offered a rather dreary view of Berun in fall.

"I wanted to talk to you in person," I said, "about where we go from here."

Foreign Minister Zettour, who had been studying a map tacked up on the opposite wall, walked over to join us, briefcase in hand. Reaching inside, he pulled out a thin sheaf of papers and slid them across the table to Falasca as he took a seat by my side.

"We expect that the Central European Treaty Organization will be formally established by this time next week," Zettour said. "I believe you will be most interested in Articles 1 and 5 and in the organizing document for the defense committee."

Up until the conclusion of the latest conference of Londinium, our only formal alliance had been with Dacia. We had been restricted to implicit understandings with former Imperial states that we would come to their aid in the case of a communist invasion. While they could draw some comfort from our promises, that kind of informal cooperation was limited in how closely we could work together. It would have been very difficult to conduct coordinated military operations, especially when it came time to go on the attack.

I had, naturally, drawn inspiration from the anti-communist alliances from my own world, but the core commitments were fairly straightforward. First, each signee agreed not to declare war without prior consultation with and approval from Germania. Second, each signee agreed to treat an attack on any member of OZEV as an attack on all. Third, and most importantly, each signee agreed to assign their forces to an integrated OZEV command in the event of war.

General Lergen had a lot of organizational work ahead of him. It would be worth it in the end, though, if we could direct our ally's forces around the battlefield with anything like the efficiency with which we commanded our own troops.

"This is the Empire in all but name," Falasca said.

"It is an agreement between sovereign states," Zettour replied. "Intended to deter foreign aggression."

"It also includes Dacia," I added.

It annoyed me when people suggested that the other former Imperial states simply agreed to what I asked out of misplace nostalgia or hero worship. The need for a smaller country to team up with others in order to protect itself from larger countries was universal, and I was confident that the deal we were offering was enough to entice participation even from states that had a rocky history with the Empire, as Dacia's approval showed.

The ultimate goal, of course, was to lure the Allied Kingdom on board. Well, the real set-for-life super jackpot would be for the Unified States to sign on, but they were too firmly isolationist to even consider such a commitment. The Albish were invested in preserving the peace in Europe. I hoped that presenting them with a clear framework for coordinated effort, rather than a motley ad hoc collection of individual armies, would help sell them on the idea. We needed a heavy hitter like the Allied Kingdom on our side if we were going to take on three major powers at once.

"Yes, yes," Falasca said, double checking a few pages, "all united under Germanian command."

"Naturally," Zettour said, "Germania retains a level of influence commensurate to its contribution to the cause."

"Should you win the coming election," I said, "we would be happy to discuss any provisions that leave you reluctant to sign on."

I was already planning to hand the controls over to the Albish, so making concessions to the Ildoans would hardly hurt. We all knew it was unlikely that I would have to follow through, though. Personally, I thought it was more likely that Muzzioli would breach his promise of safe conduct and simply assassinate Falasca than it was that he would give Falasca a fair chance to win. Even so, I hoped that the intent got through.

"And otherwise?" Falasca asked, getting to the point.

"We all admire the fight that your free Ildoans have put up in opposing Muzzioli's tyrrany. If not for the foreign invasion, you would have won," I said. "It was a valiant effort."

"Unfortunately," Zettour said, his timing as always impeccable in the role of the bad cop, "valor alone will not put food in the belly nor money in the pocket."

Much of the free Ildoan army would melt away after the election, however fraudulent. Even a tyrant like Muzzioli would pursue at least a superficial attempt at reconciliation. And most people didn't have the stomach to stay at war when they had the option of a safe, peaceful life ahead of them. Still, the diehards that remained would be useful. Assuming that the Francois dragged the Ildoans into war with us, being able to bring an Ildoan army of any kind along with our invading forces would, at the very least, make for much easier relations with the locals.

In order to preserve a useful tool, I was willing to make some reasonable expenditures. In order to make sure that they remained a useful tool and not a liability, though, I needed to make the situation clear.

"We will be happy to support your men, so that you're ready to fight against Muzzioli when the time comes," I said. "Provided that you agree to abide by the tenets of OZEV. Nominally, your army would be treated as a supplemental Carinthian force."

Considering that we had just agreed to abide by the election results in Ildoa, it wouldn't do to maintain an Ildoan rebel army as an official member of our alliance. Judging by the expression on his face, Falasca didn't appreciate the need for subtlety.

"It was bad enough to have Ildoan soil cleaved from our nation," he said, "but to fight under their flag? It's a travesty."

"If you found sheltering in Carinthia so distasteful," Zettour replied, "you could always have fought the invading army on your own."

I held up my hand to forestall Falasca's response. "As I said, I admire the fight that you've put up so far."

They had done a great job to ramp up from a small military with a strong industrial base to a genuinely strong fighting force. I'd count myself lucky if our inevitable military expansion went half so well. They'd been done in by a dirty trick from the Republic of the Francois. But, admiring somebody or recognizing they'd been unlucky only went so far.

"However, I am not willing to jump headfirst into a second Great War in order to press your cause," I continued. "If you don't like the terms on which our support is offered, you are more than welcome to shop around for a better deal."

I held his gaze for a long moment. Two months ago, he would have had any number of sponsors lining up to earn favor with the next Ildoan government. Now that he had been cast down from the precipice of victory to become the champion of a lost cause, though, he was looking at much slimmer pickings.

"As for Carinthia," I said, "you'll have a chance to make your case to them once you control Ildoa. Let's focus on one problem at a time."

In the end, there wasn't anything he could do but agree. Honestly, I thought that his reluctance to part with Carinthia was a little irrational. Ildoa had controlled the area for less than a decade. After reading the initial reports from our cultural ambassadors, I wasn't sure why anybody would want to rule over the place.

ooOoo​

October 11, 1940

My next meeting with a foreign representative was on the Friday at the end of the same week, and was far more cordial. After all this time, Mr. Johnson and I had a certain understanding of each other. I didn't stand on formality as I welcomed him to my office, leading him to a table that already held his water and my coffee.

As was my habit with the plain-spoken American, I got straight to business. "You're probably aware of our recent efforts to provide food to the Akinese."

The purchase and shipping had proceeded smoothly, although the requirement to pack everything into single-family sized crates had been something of a bottleneck. The last I had heard, the freighters delivering the food should have set off for Akitsushima within the last day or two. Keeping such a large purchase secret would have been impossible, not that we had any intention of hiding what we were doing.

Mr. Johnson nodded.

"Surprised some folks when you bought all that food," he said, "and then shipped it west."

The Americans liked to think of the oceans as impenetrable barriers between themselves and the problems of the rest of the world. It was only natural that they avoided thinking about how modern strategic planning needed to take into account a vast web of commitments and possibilities that stretched around the globe. In this case, though, the link between the Akitsushiman Empire and Germanian interests was really rather straightforward.

"Well, they were badly hurt by fighting the communists," I said. "It would be a shame to see a country ruined for doing the right thing."

He just gave me a skeptical look while humming in the affirmative. As expected, a professional diplomat, even an American, wouldn't be taken in by such sentimental nonsense.

"And, of course," I said, pausing to take a sip of my coffee, "a stable Akitsushima Dominion can keep ten or twenty division of the red army tied up on their east coast."

"You're still on about the commies?" he asked. "The Francois Republic just rolled through Ildoa like they were taking a holiday drive."

Americans no doubt benefited from their ability to stay out of European squabbles, but it did lead to a certain inability to look past the surface of geopolitical events. To be fair, it was naturally the nation whose survival was at stake that would best be able to distinguish between a rival and a mortal enemy.

"The recent conflict has Secretary Jugashvili's fingerprints all over it," I said. "He wishes to set our capitalist democracies against each other and create opportunities to expand his evil empire."

That earned me another skeptical look. I kept forgetting just how blase the Unified States could be when it came to the threat posed by the Russy Federation.

"Ah, never mind," I said, shaking my head. "I invited you here to see if you could be persuaded to help with the Akinese relief efforts."

He leaned back, exhaling heavily. "Well, that's gonna be a tall order."

"You wouldn't have to match our spending," I said. "Even organizing and encouraging private efforts would be a great help."

It would be foolish to think that we could inspire others to chip in merely by example. If the Unified States government, though, made an effort to promote the cause, at least some citizens would answer the call.

"Sure," he said, "but we have our own hungry mouths to feed."

One of the many deficiencies of the current era was that there was no readily available network of international charities. Most people tended to look after their own. Not that there was anything wrong with that, except that it made it much harder for me to convince people to spend their hard earned money sending food to the far east.

Really, though, for the Unified States to plead poverty was a bit much. I kept a weather eye on their economy. It was down from its highs, sure, and people were tightening their belts, but they weren't to the point of actual starvation. The whole thing was a far cry from Germania's worst days. Especially if you looked at the government instead of the people. They had kept their budget far below the level of spending that their tax base would permit if they were to treat the situation as a genuine emergency.

"You can't do both?" I asked. "Look, for you, feeding the Akinese isn't just charity, it's an investment."

"Oh?" he said.

Much as I might envy the Unified States's spending power, that wasn't the point. The point was to convince them that spending that money the way I wanted them to was in their own best interest.

"They're in a bad spot right now, but the Akinese are a productive people," I said. "They've also just lost control of a great deal of farmland. They'll be importing food for some time to come."

The current Akinese crisis had arisen because of the confluence of exhausting their available credit and a sudden food shortage. In time, they would work their way back into a reasonable fiscal situation, but the food shortage was structural. Short of something crazy like starting another round with the Federation or a hopeless invasion of Jiuzhou, the Akinese would always remain a net food importer. Normally, I would have liked to take advantage of such an insight to turn a profit for myself, but unfortunately Germania didn't even produce enough to feed itself, let alone to cash in on such a distant opportunity.

Mr. Johnston did not look convinced. "Once they have the money they'll just buy rice and fish."

"They're in the habit of eating what's close at hand," I said. "But delivering a free sample while they're starving is a good start on changing their habits."

Hungry people will eat whatever's put in front of them. Poor people will buy whatever food is cheap. Over time, people will adjust their diets to match what the market provides.

"Maybe," he allowed.

"It's an odd thing, to be troubled that your farmers are too productive," I said. "Akitsushima won't solve your oversupply problem by itself any more than Germania could, but if you keep opening new markets, it will add up over time."

The price of wheat on the open market had been dropping for some time. This was largely to Germania's benefit, but there was such a thing as too much of a good thing. If prices fell too far, then farmers would stop growing so much wheat. Then it only took one bad drought and suddenly we'd be paying through the nose for food even without a tariff to drive up prices.

"Speaking of little favors," he said, "let's talk about the People's Car."

"What about it?" I asked. I had an idea of where he was going with this, but I decided to let him take the lead in the conversation.

"With as many as you're selling to America," he said, "isn't it about time you opened up a plant in the Unified States?"

As usual, he went straight to the point. With unemployment steadily rising, it was natural that he would want to bring jobs to America any way that he could.

"The People's Car company is majority owned by private shareholders," I said. "I don't control such decisions."

Even with all my years of political experience, I had a hard time keeping a straight face with that one. After a moment, I crumbled in the face of his obvious skepticism.

"I suppose I could exercise a certain amount of influence," I said. "I believe some planning has been done for future expansions, including to the Unified States, but they are still evaluating potential sites."

A large segment of the private shareholders were actually quite enthusiastic about such a move. The savings on shipping costs alone would be substantial, and based on the current sales figures we would be able to sell every car made in America on the American market. With the country's high unemployment, the company would have its pick of quality workers. At first glance, it was a golden opportunity.

I had put a hold on any such plans. The risk of investing in a massive expansion of production capabilities just as the interest in our little car died out was far too high. A plant in America wouldn't even be providing jobs to Germanian voters, so it needed to make money in order to justify its existence. On the other hand, if I could use such a plant to buy some political influence in America, perhaps it would be worth it. It would also be a relief to free myself from the grumbling of those ambitious shareholders.

"Upstate New Amstreldam is a great spot for the auto industry," Mr. Johnson said. "Plenty of people looking for work, and you're right on the main transport lines."

This time it was my turn to favor him with a skeptical look. He had the good grace to look sheepish, at least.

"It's also a state with a lot of electoral votes," he said. "In an election year, it's always nice to have good news to announce."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Hooper still thinks he might win?"

Honestly, President Hooper had struck me as a capable politician. Ultimately, though, to get reelected the average voter had to be happy with how things were going. Considering the hammer blows that the Americans' economy had been taking, it was hard to imagine anybody voting for the incumbent.

"He'd better," Mr. Johnson replied, "Otherwise, how am I going to tell my wife that we're moving back to Oklahoma?"

It had slipped my mind that a new President would mean a new set of ambassadors, as the new administration rewarded its supporters. I had never intended to remain in office long enough to worry about that kind of thing.

"Tell her you're putting an ocean between your family and the Russy Federation," I said, before waving him to silence before he could criticize my red-baiting. "All right, all right. A favor for a favor. You help feed the Akinese, and I'll see what I can do about the factory."

The bottom line was that I wanted the Russy Federation to have to watch their backs instead of devoting all of their efforts to march westward. If taking on a little financial risk would help me achieve that goal, it was well worth it. Besides, with a little luck the factory might manage to break even someday.

ooOoo​

December 9, 1940

Rosenvelt did end up winning the election. Voters during bad times wanted change more than anything else. The result wasn't the complete landslide I was expecting, but he did carry New Amstreldam in the end. I could only hope that he wouldn't hold the car factory against me.

The establishment of the Central European Treaty Organization also went more or less as expected. The public roll call included Germania, Pullska, Hungary, Czechoslovakia, Croatia, and Dacia. Carinthia was a provisional member pending the results of its referendum on independence. As for secret members, that was only the free Ildoan army, so far. Every indication was that the coming election would be crooked as a barrel of fish hooks, as Mr. Johnson had once said, which would prevent them from openly joining up as Ildoa's government.

While I made a few attempts to start a discussion with the Allied Kingdom about joining our defensive alliance, my efforts never really got anywhere. The Albish newspapers were printing a bunch of nonsense about the Empire reborn, so its possible that the diplomatic corps didn't want to open talks until things settled down. I could understand their caution, but it left OZEV in a precarious position.

Our alliance sounded impressive when you listed off all of the countries involved, but if you totaled up the balance of military power it painted a less reassuring picture. We faced, at a minimum, a Franco-Ildoan-Russy alliance. In that war, Germania would be a fair match for the Francois Republic. The free Ildoans, Carinthians, Dacians, and Croatians together could probably go toe to toe with Muzzioli's Ildoa. That left Pullska, Hungary, and Czechoslovakia to take on the Russy Federation. Three on one, yes, but three middle schoolers didn't have much chance against a prize fighter.

And that wasn't even getting into the difficulty of forging so many nations' armies into a cohesive whole. Or the fact that our enemies easily had room for another minor power or two to join their alliance without creating any serious conflicts of interest. I could only hope that hostilities wouldn't kick off until we'd managed to pull some other major power into our own alliance.

Turning to happier news, the delivery of food relief to Akitsushima went about as well as I could have hoped. I had abused my authority to force my little doodle to take the place of the previous attempt at propaganada. Actually, the purpose of it was to avoid national embarrassment, so I should have said that I used my authority to force the switch. In any event, the food was delivered smoothly, as attested by a telegram we received from our ambassador relaying the gratitude of the Akinese. With the follow up delivery produced by Mr. Johnson's efforts, the Akinese looked set for a winter without civil unrest.

When the four destroyers who had escorted the shipment finally returned home, they came laden with gifts. The thank you note from the emperor was very impressive, and immediately set aside to be framed for some future museum. There were tea sets and the like as well, but what really caught my eye was an honest to goodness samurai era katana. The middle schooler in me really wanted to take that sucker out to a test range with the Type 99 and see what I could do to some armor plating. Ultimately, though, reason prevailed, and I just had Elya take down some notes on the sword's history for when it inevitably ended up on a wall somewhere.

The ships had also carried a more problematic sort of gift. Two battalions of Akinese aerial mages. I'd known they were coming long ahead of time, but they were still going to be a bit tricky to handle.

Seventy two mages represented a significant bump in our numbers, but that wasn't the whole story. Each of our existing battalions had been trained to a very high standard and used cutting edge equipment. The Akinese would be veterans, but they wouldn't have our training or our computation orbs. The military is a vast machine. Adding parts that didn't fit wouldn't necessarily help it to run better or accomplish more.

The best place for our guests would be in the Magical Civil Defense Corps. Those were already somewhat catch-as-catch-can, heterogeneous units. If they ever saw combat, any friendly rifle would be welcome. Problems of training and coordination were much less pressing in units that were meant to be entirely defensive. The tricky part would be in convincing these proud mages, part of their country's elite force, to take up back line duty without trampling all over their dignity and sense of pride.

Fortunately, I could delegate that kind of thing to Weiss. He planned out a training exercise for the coming weekend that would allow the Akinese to measure themselves against our new cadets, active battalions, and civil defense mages. We hoped the practical demonstration would lead them to draw the appropriate conclusions.

I was also able to secure a little personal bonus by dropping by to visit the Akinese mages during lunchtime. They had arrived the previous night and been put up in a hotel in central Berun near the embassy, which meant that a convenient conference room was readily available for our meeting. By arriving together with Weiss and Visha a few minutes early, I was able to slip into line and snag an onigiri from the pile that had been made available for the hungry mages. I was two bites deep and enjoying the taste of nostalgia when the Akinese ambassador caught up with us.

"Chancellor, if I'd known you were hungry," he said, "I could have had our chef prepare a more suitable meal."

"No need, I was just feeling peckish," I said. Taking a glance at my companions, I saw that Visha was halfway through hers while Weiss was still poking suspiciously at the seaweed wrapping. "Besides, this is pretty tasty. I might have to learn how to make it myself."

Visha started, then coughed as a bit of rice went down the wrong tube. I took another bite to hide my smile as she cleared her throat.

"No need to trouble yourself, Chancellor," she said. "I'm sure I can find the recipe and add it to our meal rotation."

"All right," I said. With that, both my primary and secondary missions had been accomplished. Now all that was left was to make a good impression on the Akinese.

The room around us was full of mages milling around as they ate. A small gap had formed around our little gathering, whether out of respect or out of a soldier's natural instinct to avoid the attention of politicians. Visha had gone back to eating, while Weiss gave what sounded like a happy grunt as he took his first bite and found it to his liking. The ambassador hovered uncertainly, looking a little wrong footed. I quickly polished off my onigiri and gave him a reassuring smile.

"Goch-" I said, before catching myself with a cough and clearing my throat. "Ambassador, let me thank you again for this magnificent gesture."

It really was remarkable to send such a force of aerial mages to a country that was not an official military ally. Though they were nominally here on a journey to spread understanding and goodwill between our nations, it had been made clear to me that they were fully prepared to fight with us in the event of war breaking out. I still wasn't quite ready to commit to an alliance with the Akitsushima Dominion until I was sure they'd gotten the military adventurism fully out of their system, but I did appreciate what they were doing.

Just like when I was serving in the military, I still adhered to the philosophy that the more mages between me and the enemy army, the better.

"It was the least we could do," he said, looking more comfortable as we exchanged platitudes. "Your gift pulled us out of the devil's kitchen."

"Ah, well, after rain falls, the ground hardens," I replied.

While Akitsushima was going through a rough patch now, they'd be much better off in the long run for abandoning the course that they had been on. My help simply smoothed the transition and made sure that they would continue to at least appear to be a viable threat to the Russy Federation.

"Now, is everybody here?" I asked. "I should probably get started soon."

While I was happy enough to make the trip here in order to take a culinary trip down memory lane, the ostensible purpose of my visit was to welcome the foreign mages to the country and tell them what they'd be doing. The ambassador nodded in response to my question and gestured for one of the men who had been standing a polite distance away to step forward.

"Ichiro will act as your translator."

I would have expected the ambassador to handle translation duties, with his excellent grasp of the language, but Ichiro did look to have a better set of lungs for belting out instructions to a big group of soldiers. I was a little curious where an Akinese aerial mage would have picked up Germanian. If I had to guess, I would say that Koenig probably had something to do with it.

I gave him a nod, then led our little group to the front of the room. I cleared my throat before hopping up onto an empty table.

"If I may have your attention. please."

Ichiro's translation was noticeably less polite. It did the job though, leaving me to address a neat row of seventy-odd mages standing at attention. Ah, it took me back.

"Welcome to Germania!"

Fortunately, Ichiro gave a more literal translation now that we had everybody's attention.

"We are happy to have you here as guests of our country. I know that it is a long way from home," I said, pausing to let Ichiro catch up, "but killing communists here won't be that different from what you're used to. Although the weather should be warmer."

I got some courtesy chuckles for that, which was probably about the best I could hope for. "In all seriousness, your visit here should be peaceful. We may quarrel with our neighbors, but war is always a last resort."

"Please take advantage of your time here to meet new people and try new things," I continued. "You can be part of a bridge between our peoples, to help find common ground and shrink the distance between us."

I paused again to let Ichiro finish his translation. Looking at the men, they were doing their best to maintain the usual stoic facade of a soldier, but I felt at least some cautious optimism that this mission would generate some genuine goodwill.

"Turning to practical matters. Please have your dress uniforms ready to go for Thursday evening," I said. "On Saturday, you'll need your combat gear. General Weiss will tell you what to expect."

With that, I dismounted the table and handed the meeting over to Weiss. It really was a lot like the old days. Only instead of throwing the men into trench warfare, we'd be parading them in front of television cameras and then taking them on a team building exercise.

At the end of the day, the soldiers would probably still grumble about as much as they always did. Still, it always made me happy when mages from different nations could come together in the spirit of friendly competition and mutual understanding, instead of just trying to murder each other.

For that matter, I preferred it when politicians could come together that way, too. It was too bad other foreign leaders weren't all as reasonable as I was.

ooOoo​

AN2: OZEV is the Organisation des Zentraleuropäischen Vertrags, which is a slightly awkward and archaic formulation as I understand it from my consultation with SB's helpful German volunteers, but the North Atlantic Treaty Organization also sounds slightly awkward and old-fashioned, so I think it fits.