A Young Woman's Political Record 48 (Patreon)

AN: First chapter of the week. Second chapter this week will be another for my original fiction.

ooOoo

April 4, 1941

Besides the OZEV nations, I did have other allies to tend to. The Legadonia Entente was maintaining an ambiguous position, having released a statement condemning Russy aggression that stopped short of declaring war. I would have appreciated more overt support, but I wasn't going to turn my nose up at any friendly neighbor. For the moment, all I could do was maintain an amicable stance and hope that they would eventually line up on our side in the war.

Meanwhile, the Akitsushiman Dominion, while not technically a co-belligerent, had contributed a pair of aerial mage battalions to our defense. We had integrated them into our defense planning, but we couldn't simply order them about as if they were our own men. Certain diplomatic niceties had to be observed. I could have delegated the task to Zettour, but I didn't see any reason to do so when it provided such a convenient excuse to invite myself over to dinner.

Fortunately, Visha had mastered the use of chopsticks relatively quickly with an aerial mage's dexterity, allowing me to do the same without standing out overmuch. All too soon I found my own chopsticks scraping away at an empty plate, and set them down with a sigh.

"Ambassador, thank you again for having us over," I said. "The meal was wonderful."

Besides the meal, the whole ambiance of our surroundings had been relaxing. It had taken a little bit of sweet talking to earn our way past the front area set up for European visitors, but in the end we had been invited back to a very traditional Jap—or, rather, Akinese—dining room. As I couldn't possibly justify outfitting my own residence with tatami mats, I could only indulge in brief outings like this to enjoy once-familiar surroundings.

The ambassador's residence had been fitted out with a level of care commensurate with his status. Nothing ostentatious, but every piece of furniture was made with exquisite craftsmanship from high end materials. The scrolls hanging from the walls were, unless I missed my guess, priceless antiques. I had only had a few chances to socialize with my company's top executives in surroundings that were even close to as nicely set up.

Although really, in terms of overall ambiance, the dining room reminded me of nothing so much as my half remembered childhood visits to my grandparents' home. One advantage I enjoyed in my new circumstances was that some discreet use of magic made sitting in seiza downright comfortable.

"Please, it was my honor to host you," the Akinese ambassador said. "Now, I believe it is time for desert."

At his signal, an attendant entered the room with a tray holding a teapot and some familiar little lumps. I was caught off guard by the wave of nostalgia that came over me. Not that there was anything wrong with Germanian chocolate, but there was something special about the candies of your childhood.

"Ooh, daifuku mochi?"

The ambassador looked at me with surprise. "You've had it before?"

Whoopsie. I was letting my appetite get ahead of my common sense. Curse my sweet tooth!

"Ah," I said, floundering for a moment, "I like every type of sweet."

As always, I relied upon a non sequitur and a smile to get me through an awkward situation. I was lucky that most people wouldn't just jump right to the idea that I had been reincarnated with my memories intact after being raised in a foreign country in the future.

"Anyways," I continued, "I should ask, how are your mages holding up?"

With a serious topic to discuss, the ambassador was happy to leave the question of my familiarity with his culture for another time. The fact that none of the Akinese mages had been injured, let alone killed, made discussion of the war less fraught than it otherwise might have been.

"They're doing well enough. To hear them tell it, your training session was quite an eye opener," he said. "If anything, they want to be closer to the action."

I was glad that Weiss's demonstration had knocked the arrogance out of our visitors. I was a little surprised that their glimpse into the level of combat expected of aerial mages in the European theater hadn't knocked out all of their enthusiasm for war. Well, in fairness, it might have. After all, the ambassador could talk up their high enthusiasm all he wanted without ever having it come back to endanger him personally.

Even if he was telling the truth as he saw it, the Akinese soldiers might be caught in the same trap that had haunted my career. In a system where your performance evaluation was a matter of life or death and a high enthusiasm for war was a prerequisite for a good evaluation, soldiers could only ever answer that sort of question one way. Unfortunately, while I sympathized with their predicament, my job was to look out for the well being of the Germanian people. And to do that, I needed every aerial mage I could get my hands on.

"Are you familiar with Carinthia?" I asked.

The initial plan had been for the Akinese to be stationed in western Germania. With the great mass of aerial mages fighting for the Francois Republic, we had needed to station as many mages as we could in that region in order to fight off any raiding parties that split from their invading army. As it happened, the Franks had kept their mages clumped together in a supporting role instead of turning them loose for independent raids, so our civil defense mages hadn't wound up with much to do.

Now, the center of magical conflict was likely to shift south. Ildoa boasted a population roughly on par with the Francois Republic. Although its colonial empire wasn't quite so extensive, we still expected them to field a respectable magical force. Therefore, aerial defense mages in Carinthia would be seeing action soon.

I didn't just want to shift the Akinese down there because I wanted foreigners to bear the brunt of the casualties. While the Akinese were roughly on par with our own civil defense forces, the Akinese were all soldiers in the prime of their lives. It was more reasonable to shift them into the war zone than to shift a bunch of Germanian retirees who happened to be able to use magic. The Akinese might even benefit from the experience.

Of course, moving foreign troops who had agreed to defend my country across the border into another country wasn't something I wanted to do unilaterally. If I did something like that without consulting the ambassador and got his citizens killed, it could cast a pall over our relationship. 

"Somewhat. Fascinating region, the Balkans," he said. "It reminds me of our own warring states era, before the country was united under the Oda shogunate."

"Yes, I can see, ah, hmm," I began, stumbling over my words as I processed what he had said. I really ought to dig up an Akinese history book one of these days. Gathering my thoughts, I cleared my throat. "In any event, if your men are interested in seeing combat, that's where they should go."

"There won't be any Russy forces to fight there," Visha added, "but it's where we expect the most concentrated fight for aerial superiority."

I took advantage of the break in the conversation to finally take a bite of my daifuku. Ah, anko, I missed you so. What a wonderful argument in favor of international trade. While sugar was a universal component of any sweet, there was no end of ingredients out there in the world that could be used for dessert.

"I see," the ambassador said, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Of course, we're already grateful for your support," I said. "Please don't feel obligated to send your men into danger on our behalf."

It would be nice to have an extra two battalions of mages in Carinthia, but we could make do without them. Improving our overall relationship with the Akitsushima Dominion was more important. After all, I wanted them to take me seriously when I gave advice on matters such as never, ever ending up at war with the Unified States.

"No, no," the ambassador said. "If anything, the men would be upset if I kept them out of the fighting."

Spoken like a man who knew he was safe in the back line. Well, considering some of the stories I'd heard back in my original childhood, he could be telling the truth. In any event, at least these men wouldn't be stuck in a hopeless war, not if I could help it.

"As for the far eastern front, while I certainly wouldn't mind if anybody decides the time is ripe to put the boot to the reds, we are already benefiting quite a bit from your recent initiatives," I said. "Everything your government does to boost the health and prosperity of your people makes your country seem that much more of a threat to the Russy Federation."

Really, the most important thing the Akitsushima Dominion could do for Germania was to build a stable and wealthy society that acted as a check on the commies' ability to commit their men to their west. Anything else was just a bonus.

"Such tasks are merely our duty," the ambassador said.

"Even so," I replied, "every soldier the Russy Federation keeps stationed on the coast is a soldier who isn't storming our defenses. Thank you."

The ambassador and I went back and forth a few times with expressions of humility and expressions of gratitude while we all finished our desserts. All in all, I thought it was a productive visit.

As we left, I pretended not to notice as Visha buttonholed the attendant and asked for the recipe for daifuku. I thought for a moment about arranging for the importation of the needed ingredients, but I decided to leave that up to her. She'd always enjoyed tackling challenging tasks, and this way I would be surprised when she presented me with the finished product.

ooOoo

April 6, 1941

The funeral for President Rudersdorf was held in Berun's largest cathedral. Even as spacious as the venue was, though, it was packed full. The war might be disrupting citizens' everyday lives, but it also increased their attachment to religion. That's why Being X was so fond of it. I preferred to think that in this case the attendees were showing their appreciation of President Rudersdorf, a man who had devoted his life to his country, more than anything else.

My role in the funeral was simple enough. I dressed in the appropriate mourning clothes that Visha had picked out for me. I sat in the front row, together with the local movers and shakers and our distinguished foreign guests. I stood when everybody else stood and sat when everybody else sat. That was about it. I'd been offered a speaking role, but declined. As much as I'd admired President Rudersdorf, I hadn't known him well on a personal level and even I, with my constant campaigning, wouldn't stoop so low as to turn a funeral into a political rally.

As it was, I thought that Zettour had come rather close to that line. While the bulk of his eulogy had revolved around his personal friendship with the deceased, towards the end he had turned his focus towards Rudersdorf's supposed lifelong dream of Germanian greatness and how it fell to all of us to see his dream fulfilled. I counted myself lucky that he had at least refrained from promoting any overtly partisan goals.

I took the rest of the Sunday after the funeral to rest and relax. We could have held the OZEV meeting on the same day as the funeral, but it seemed to me to be somewhat inauspicious to do such a thing. Also, the press of the war wasn't yet urgent enough to toss everything else aside in the name of necessity. Nothing that we were going to discuss couldn't wait a day or two.

That wasn't to say that there was nothing whatsoever transpiring on the field of battle. The Russy Federation had launched probing attacks along with their stepped up reconnaissance of our defenses. No major assaults yet, though it was sobering to think that these so-called minor attacks took place all along a line that stretched from the Baltic to the Black Sea. They even had their warships sailing back and forth along the coastline of Dacia, shelling everything that moved.

The reason I thought of them as minor attacks was that the Russy Federation had yet to make a serious effort to breach our defensive line. Even their reconnaissance in force aimed at Legadonia had only proceeded for a few hours before their forces returned to their own side of the border. An ominous sign for the future, yes, but not an immediate threat.

I hosted the OZEV get together in one of the larger and more extravagantly decorated meeting rooms contained within the Chancellor's residence. I didn't ordinarily make much use of such flashy show pieces, but for a war conference that gathered together so many heads of state, a bit of ostentation was almost mandatory.

I stood at the head of the table, itself an oversized block of mahogany that had been polished to a mirror sheen. A map of the relevant area of the conflict was behind me. In front of me were the leaders of the OZEV countries. Istvan Ronai, the leader of Hungary, Boris Marinko, the prime minister of Carinthia, Maciej Moscicki, the president of Pullska, and Luigi Falasca, the rightful Prime Minister of Ildoa, sat in a line on my left. Constantin Groza, the prime minister of Dacia, Jan Benes, the president of Czechoslovakia, Thorvald Buhl, the prime minister of Daneland, and Karlo Nazor, the president of Croatia, sat on my right. 

The purpose of the meeting was to determine our common strategy and goals for the war. To some extent our military forces were already cooperating within the OZEV treaty system, of course, but it was up to the political leadership to establish the overarching framework that would guide their efforts.

"Thank you all for coming," I began. "While the war has gone in our favor thus far, it is far from over. We will have to work together if we want to prevail."

The problem with victory is that it's too easy to take it for granted. A grand triumph only happens when a multitude of factors come together. Your own capabilities are important, but so are enemy mistakes, happenstances of terrain, even the weather. Thinking you can continue to deliver crushing wins just because you were able to do so one time is the height of foolishness, but it's all too common. I trusted in our officer corps to keep Germania's troops' egos in check. I could only indirectly encourage our allies not to buy in to any of the myths floating around after our quick defeat of the Francois Republic.

Of course, it was quite the luxury that our biggest problem at the moment was too much winning. It was a problem that would go away on its own in the natural course of events after the coming attack by the Red Army, but I didn't want any human resources to be wasted due to overconfidence in the meantime.

"We have agreed that we will fight together and we will only seek peace together," I said. "However, we still need to determine our ultimate goal."

Any defensive agreement will necessarily be a bit vague as to the conditions of victory. Now that we had a concrete war before us, though, we had enough information to make a sensible decision.

"Victory!" Marinko called out, bringing his fist down on the table. "Our ultimate goal is victory!"

That brought a chorus of agreement from around the table, and even I couldn't help but smile. Even if I was irritated that Marinko had provoked this war in the first place, I could still appreciate his enthusiasm. I waited a moment for the chatter to die down.

"Of course I agree. It behooves us, though to be a bit more specific," I said. "For example, in the case of Ildoa, I would define victory as seeing Prime Minister Falasca firmly in control of the country, with Muzzioli and his sympathizers removed from the halls of power."

That brought another round of agreement. One of the convenient results of hosting a government in exile is that it makes your victory condition rather straightforward. It was too bad we didn't have any such arrangement ready for Yugoslavia or the Russy Federation.

"However," I continued, "that leaves us with the question of what to do with our other foes."

Clear communication was a vital component to any relationship. I had that truth hammered home once more as I discovered that my allies had expected that I would more or less annex Yugoslavia. I was glad to have the chance to disabuse them of that notion. Honestly, we didn't even share a border. 

Once I had disclaimed any interest in the area, it opened the door for others to press their suits. Ronai argued that the bump that sprang from Yugoslavia's northern border properly belonged to Hungary, while Nazor claimed that much of the territory on their shared border with Yugoslavia ought to be Croatian. 

I wouldn't have gone to war to press those claims, but I was inclined to let my allies have them now that war was upon us. As long as they didn't expect me to help ensure that their takeover of Balkan territory went smoothly, it was no skin off my nose. I was also able to secure general agreement that besides our own territorial expansion, OZEV would also seek to break Yugoslavia up into smaller nations that would be less capable of regional adventurism.

I then laid out my vision for the Russy Federation. Ideally we would conquer them entirely, imposing a free and democratic society at gunpoint. Of course, should they find our brand of freedom unsatisfying, our occupying forces would stomp down hard on any signs of resistance. Such a complete victory would rid the world of the threat of communism before the bastards could get their hands on nuclear weapons.

Unfortunately, securing such a complete victory was so unlikely as to border on the impossible. My fallback plan was to split off as many minority ethnicities as possible from the communist empire so that they could establish their own countries, which would be welcomed as new members of OZEV. At the very least we could contain the communists for a few years until our nuclear advantage allowed us to renegotiate the strategic situation to our advantage.

I didn't mention nuclear weapons, of course, but it didn't change the basic strategic calculus. Fully occupying a massive country like the Russy Federation was a daunting prospect, but breaking off smaller chunks seemed an achievable goal.

With our goals settled, it was time to talk war plans. The nuts and bolts of military decision making would be done by the generals, but they needed guidance from us when it came to grand strategy.

"Thanks to our allies' strong defenses in the east, Germania was able to devote her efforts to the west, to good effect," I said. I wasn't going to miss a chance to butter up the men whose soldiers were standing between me and the commies. "That leaves us with more forces at our disposal than we had planned. Any invasion of the Russy Federation will, of course, have to wait until our other foes have been taken care of."

It would be foolish to fight on two fronts when one of those fronts was an invasion of the Russy Federation. I honestly wasn't even that eager to fight on one front if that front meant invading the Rus. Their country was huge and their infrastructure abysmal. As long as they wanted to take on the burden of overcoming those obstacles in order to deliver their soldiers to us to be killed, I was happy to let them save us the trouble.

"I'm told that we have enough men and material to accomplish any two objectives from these three," I said, looking around the room. "First, invading Ildoa; second, invading Yugoslavia; third, providing a reserve against Russy aggression."

After sleeping on the question, I was leaning towards a strategy of invading Ildoa first. It was the larger nation and promised to be more of a headache to defeat the longer we waited to attack. Still, it was a close call, and I expected my OZEV allies to divide on a geographical basis, favoring the invasion of their own troublesome neighbor.

"Excellent!" Moscicki said. "Once the anklebiters have been knocked out, we can focus our efforts on the real threat."

I would have thought that open blood thirst would be an obstacle to high office, if not for my own electoral success. Even so, I was taken aback by the reckless aggression on display. Leading a country like Pullska that bordered a giant like the Russy Federation ought to call for some circumspection. Instead, it seemed their president liked the taste of victory and was happy to roll the dice in pursuit of more.

"You support an all out attack?" I asked. "Even after what happened to the Francois Republic?"

"Pah," he replied, waving a hand dismissively. "The army that treated the Franks like naughty schoolboys isn't going to be troubled by anything the Ildoans or Yugoslavians can manage."

It seemed my efforts to dispel victory disease from my allies had been only partially successful, at best. Pride in your army was no excuse for a reckless strategy.

"The problem wouldn't be the Ildoans or Yugoslavians," I said, turning back to the map and tapping on our largest opponent for emphasis, "but the Rus."

When you push all your chips into the center of the table, you might not get them back. Although it can be hard to remember such trivia when you're on a winning streak.

"I would never question your military judgment, Chancellor," Groza said, "but didn't the original plan call for us to hold the line without much Germanian help at all?"

I nodded, conceding the point. The initial plans had envisioned the bulk of our forces being tied up in fighting the Francois Republic for quite some time. I hadn't thought that the Dacian prime minister would be eager for a one on one fight against a great power after what had happened the last time, but on reflection he may have wanted to restore his nation's reputation, even at the risk of his soldiers' lives. To be fair, with all the money Dacia had been spending purchasing Germanian equipment, their army should be much better prepared than the infantry squares that the 203rd had scattered so easily back then.

"In that case," he continued, "can't we best make use of this windfall by using those troops, rather than holding them in reserve? Press home our advantages so they compound on each other, as you did so often during the Great War."

I tapped my chin for a moment in thought. Setting aside the obvious brown nosing, there was merit to his argument. I had always preferred aggressive action. Not that I had liked being in harm's way, but if I had to be in a fight I preferred that it be on my own terms, before the enemy had time to prepare. Following that idea on a strategic level, launching both invasions would give us the best chance of success.

It was possible that I was rating the Russy Federation's army too highly based on my own memories of the Red Army of my time. In my original life, the communists had indeed steamrolled across Europe, only pausing when they confronted the Americans. However, that communist army had been honed by years of brutal warfare and built up with years of effort. While the Russy Federation's fight in the east was enough to knock the rust off, it wasn't quite the same level of intensity as a world war.

More to the point, General Lergen had been in charge of planning the initial eastern defenses. He wasn't one to underestimate a foe. Keeping back additional troops just to assuage my own paranoia would be the worst sort of political meddling. Sure, General Lergen had suggested it, but it was possible he was simply anticipating what I would want to do in light of my own well known concerns about the communist menace, rather than relying on his own best military judgment.

"Is everybody comfortable with this course of action?" I asked.

Looking around the table, I saw several faces that looked eager for our invasions to begin, and a few that seemed neutral. Nobody appeared to be opposed.

"As I said, we already planned to hold the line," Groza said. "We have our own reserves. You can trust us to do our part."

I'd always said this was an alliance of equals, even if Germania happened to contribute more than most to the common effort. While I had mostly been sensitive not to betray that equality by bossing everybody around for my own country's benefit, it seemed that I had overlooked the opposite problem. If I were to be excessively cautious, excessively solicitous of the dangers faced by my allies, that would demean their efforts to stand on their own feet just as surely as a more domineering approach. If we were to be true equals, then I should trust them to shoulder their share of the work.

Maybe I was succumbing to the aggressive instincts honed by eight years of military service, but there was an undeniable appeal to the notion of knocking two of our foes out of the war simultaneously. The sooner we could focus all of our efforts on one opponent, the sooner we could win the war.

Boldness, boldness, and more boldness. Well, it had worked so far.

ooOoo