A Young Woman's Political Record 56 (Patreon)

 AN: For those of you who are new to the patreon, you can read A Young Woman's Political Record on spacebattles. The "Reader Mode" link will open up the story posts only. 

ooOoo

August 17, 1941

I wouldn't shed any tears for the Allied Kingdom as it struggled to hold its overseas empire together, of course. Still, they were our ally, however grudging, in the fight against the Russy Federation. Anything that could cause them to take their eye off the ball was a problem. Not to mention, the more I thought about it, the more the news struck me as odd.

"The north?" I asked. "I would have thought the commie sympathizers would be in the south."

I hadn't paid close attention to the political situation in Bharat, but I knew that communism usually flourished in areas of high commerce with international ties. In a vacuum, I would have expected a commie uprising on the coast somewhere.

"Albish strongholds have fallen all across the north," Elya said, "together with the proclamation of an independent socialist republic of Bharat."

These communists worked fast. While communists did tend to be enthusiastic organizers, this seemed a little too competent for a bunch of local rebels to pull off.

I rubbed my chin as I thought for a moment. "How many magic detectors do they have up north, anyways?"

"As expected, you've cut to the heart of it," Elya said. "I believe the Rus are aiding the rebels, assuming they aren't running the whole operation outright."

The trip from the Russy Federation to Bharat passed through terrain that would be almost impossible for an army to cross, but it was more than possible for determined individuals to make the trip. In a big country filled with lots of people and saddled with a mediocre transportation network, mages could hit well above their usual weight class. A one-two punch of ideological infiltrators to stoke local sentiment and NKVD mages to act the heavies would certainly explain why the rebellion had flared up so suddenly and spread so quickly. 

I sighed. "I guess they were upset at the rejection of their peace offer."

The Rus must have had this plan in the works for some time. It wouldn't surprise me if their intention was to bring the Albish back to the negotiating table. Fortunately for me, the Albish shared one key characteristic with their American cousins: they might give up on a war that seemed far off and pointless, but they would never let themselves be bullied into making peace.

No, the Albish were stuck in the war for good. It was a bit of an open question, though, just how many resources they would continue to devote to our theater.

"Although the rebellion must be receiving outside support," Elya said, "it could still spread. The Bharati have been seeking independence for some time now."

I had noticed in my study of this world's history that nationalism had never exploded onto the scene the way it did in the history of my original world. That wasn't to say, though, that people didn't have any nationalist sentiments whatsoever. A desultory independence movement had been ticking along in Bharat for most of the time that I'd been alive. It had never really made inroads with the population, but this sign of visible success against their colonial overlord might inspire more people to sign up.

That wasn't even getting into the mutual hatred between large segments of society within Albish-ruled Bharat. The Allied Kingdom had been able to keep a lid on religious and ethnic conflict, but tossing communism into the mix might just send matters spiraling out of control.

"I suppose we'll have to wait and see how things develop," I said, before turning to General Lergen. "Can we continue on without the Allied Kingdom's troops, if we have to?"

"Yes, although it will be an organizational challenge," he replied. "The Ildoans will be sending some troops soon, so we can cover Albion's section of the line without tapping too heavily into our reserves. The trick will be shuffling everybody around so that, ah, historical rivals don't rub elbows with each other."

I winced. Considering Muzzioli's many public declarations of Ildoan territorial ambition, it certainly wouldn't do to have them manning the border of Magna Rumeli.

"Well, I'll leave that to you," I said. "Oh, could you also make sure Koenig's battalion gets a leave rotation?"

"That shouldn't be a problem," he said.

As I had learned all too often back when I was in the military, the reward for a job well done is another job. Koenig and his team had done a wonderful job fighting off the NKVD mages when the encounter had been a total surprise. I thought it was reasonable to expect that he could replicate that performance now that he knew what he was up against. Searching through the mountain and jungle of Bharat for commies would be a challenge, but he and his men enjoyed that kind of thing.

Even so, I tried to be a reasonable boss. That's why I wanted to give him some time off before I shipped him overseas.

"I do have to have something to offer the Albish," I said, "if they ever admit they have a problem."

I did want the Albish to succeed, in the end. Communism needed to be stamped out wherever it reared its ugly head. One mage battalion really was about all we could spare though. We had plenty of commies within marching distance that needed shooting.

ooOoo

August 24, 1941

I was pleasantly surprised that it only took a week for Mr. Lloyd to arrange a quiet meeting and pass along the bad news. It would have been nice if he'd come to me sooner, but I'd been half expecting the Albish to try to tough out the whole thing without admitting they had a problem. Stiff upper lip and all that.

As it was, I did my best to pretend I had no idea what was coming as I watched the Albish ambassador take a sip of his tea.

Finally, he set down his teacup and cleared his throat. "I'm afraid we may need to reduce our commitment to the eastern front."

"Oh?" I asked.

"There's been a spot of trouble in Bharat," he replied.

An admirable understatement. The so-called independent socialist republic had been on a roll, claiming more and more of the northern stretches of Bharat. Elya had just briefed me this morning on worrying signs that the independence movement was considering joining hands with the communists in order to drive the Allied Kingdom out.

"I see," I said. "Will you be able to maintain control of the Black Sea?"

To be honest, the participation of the Allied Kingdom's army was mostly useful for public relations. An important factor in war, to be sure, but we could do almost as well without them. It was their navy that filled an important hole in OZEV's capabilities. Keeping the Black Sea shut down was absolutely vital to our ongoing efforts to collapse the pocket in which we'd trapped the Russy's southern army.

"Of course, of course," Mr. Lloyd replied, "we should even be able to ramp up our troop level once more as soon as this is all behind us."

That was a relief. I'd been expecting it, as the problems they were facing in Bharat weren't anything the navy could help with, but it was still reassuring to hear it from the horse's mouth. I was a little surprised at his blase attitude. If he was simply trying to put a good face on things in front of a foreigner that was all well and good, but commie rebels were nothing to take lightly.

"You expect this will all blow over soon?" I asked.

He took another sip of tea before he replied.

"Unfortunately, this isn't the first time rebellious elements have reared their head in Bharat," he said. "It never amounts to much, in the end."

If I were an Albish citizen I'd be alarmed at his attitude. Even as somebody indifferent to the fortunes of the Allied Kingdom, I felt compelled to raise a warning.

"Doesn't the timing seem a little too coincidental?" I asked.

"It wouldn't shock me if foreign elements were involved, no," he allowed.

"We have our hands full, but I can spare a battalion of mages to help you out," I said. "They've tangled with the NKVD mages before and came out on top."

"The NKVD mages," he repeated. "While I appreciate the offer, for the moment I don't think it will be necessary to take you up on it."

To be fair, we hadn't shared the recordings or the physical evidence of NKVD mages with Albish intelligence. It wasn't completely crazy that they would dismiss our claims. And, of course, part of the cost of holding onto colonies is that you need to prove you can keep them with your own strength. I couldn't help but feel some sympathy for the Albish soldiers who were going to pay in blood for their nation's sense of pride.

I also couldn't help but wonder how Koenig would react if I ever told him about this conversation. In his shoes, I would have wanted to write the ambassador a thank you note. Koenig would probably look for a chance to key his car.

"All right. The offer's open if you change your mind," I said. "Ah, do you have any plans in motion to consider Bharati independence?"

"We will not allow terrorist rebels to dictate the policies of His Majesty's government," Mr. Lloyd replied, his voice quite stern.

I appreciated the sentiment, but he really was being a little cavalier about the possibility of the commies becoming the face of the independence movement. In the end, though, it wasn't any of my business.

"Fair enough," I said. "Well, good luck with that."

As long as the Albish navy kept choking off the Russy Federation's access to the sea, the misadventures of the Albish army weren't my problem. I did spare a thought to hope that Lieutenant Green had had the good sense to retire before the coming mess could ruin his life.

ooOoo

September 22, 1941

The Albish had the good grace to draw down their forces gradually from the eastern front. No matter how alarming the reports I received describing the situation in Bharat, they held the lilne and did their part to help close the pocket on the Russy invading force. Their navy, too, did a terrific job preventing any escape by sea.

I did notice that the Albish aerial mages quietly relocated to parts unknown. It was, of course, beneath my dignity to tell Mr. Lloyd that I had told him he had a Russy mage problem on his hands.

In any event, our army had its hands full. While it was hard to complain about an offensive being carried off too successfully, the logistical challenge posed by hundreds of thousands of prisoners of war was no joke. Fortunately, General Lergen had proved himself up to the task.

"You've done well to consolidate our gains," I told him. Rewarding subordinates with praise when they do a good job is an important part of good management.

I had made a habit of meeting with him every Monday to discuss the progress of the war. While I had no intention of micro-managing, I did need to keep myself apprised of the situation on the ground. In a personal meeting between just the two of us he should feel free to speak his mind without needing to project a confident facade for the benefit of the audience.

He accepted the praise gracefully. "Thank you, Chancellor."

"It's not glamorous," I said, "but the hard work of dotting our i's and crossing our t's will pay off in time."

General Lergen had made his life's mission the crushing of the enemy and total destruction of their ability to fight. Fiddling around with train schedules in order to accomodate surrendered soldiers in accordance with the law of war was a necessary task, but I knew it wasn't the sort of thing that moved his heart.

Still, it really was important. I had made much of the communist's barbaric behavior in press releases and public speeches. That charm offensive was much more effective when we ourselves behaved as moral paragons, treating surrendered foes with every legal courtesy. In the end, I wanted to have a free hand to redraw borders in accordance with our needs without prompting every busybody across the globe to jump in and renew hostilities.

General Lergen simply nodded in response. Fortunately, he was the kind of man who would take his frustration out on the enemy army instead of his supervisor.

"So," I asked, "what's next?"

"The fall rains will soon make offensive operations almost impossible," he said. "We can use this time to prepare so that we are ready to advance once the ground freezes solid."

I nodded. The heavy rains in spring and fall turned the Russy Federation into a sea of mud. Our tanks were impressive, but they couldn't float. Ironically, the freezing cold of winter allowed for combat operations to resume, provided one was prepared for the weather.

"There are three available lines of advance," he said, tracing the routes on the map before him with his finger as he listed them off. "North, to cut off the troops in Legadonia. South, continuing to the Caucasus. And, my preference, a central thrust aiming to capture Moskva."

I raised an eyebrow. "You want to replicate the capture of Parisee?"

"We have much to gain from ending the war quickly," he said. "Dragging things out will cost us both men and materiel.

Were he a lesser man, I might have suspected that General Lergen simply wanted to write his name into the history books with a military master stroke. However, I had known General Lergen for half my life. I knew he was making a principaled decision to set aside his own desire to kill as many enemy troops as possible and pursue what was best for the country, a quick and relatively cheap victory. Unfortunately, he was overlooking the political dimension.

"While I admire your boldness, the Rus are not the Francois," I said. "Taking the capital might dishearten the people, but the commies aren't worried about public sentiment."

If de Lugo had insisted in fighting on after I led a military parade through Parisee, a mob would have dragged him out of office by sundown. If a mass of Russy citizens tried to protest the continuation of the war, Jugashvili wouldn't hesitate to have them all gunned down.

Taking Moskva would be a nice feather in our cap, but it wouldn't cripple the Russy war machine. Not to mention the cost in lives if we had to fight our way into a city that must be a veritable fortress by now.

"We can put enough pressure on in the north and center to keep the Rus honest," I said, "but the main thrust will be south."

I traced my finger along the map. It was daunting, to see that we had occupied enough Russy territory to constitute multiple ordinary countries, and see that it was only a small fraction of the whole. Eventually I came to a stop, tapping my finger on a river sprouting out of the Caspian Sea.

"Cutting off the Volga river will turn off the tap on the Russy oil supply," I said. "If we can capture the oil fields for ourselves, so much the better, but once they can no longer fly their planes or drive their tanks as they wish, our victory is assured."

A modern army was a thirsty beast. Tanks, trucks, and airplanes allowed for amazing military maneuvers, lightning fast advances that had been impossible in the days when armies moved by foot or on horseback. At least, that was true as long as you could keep the gas tank filled up.

Even with our pipeline to Dacia, even with free access to the American market, we had to do all of our military planning with one eye on the fuel costs. Moving armies entailed moving the fuel that kept those armies moving. The logistical challenge was intense, even setting aside what all the fuel purchases were doing to our budget.

The Russy Federation had been blessed with a great deal of natural resources. Most relevant to the war, they got their oil from their own oil field on the Caspian Sea. From there it was shipped up the Volga river to fuel the Russy industry and war machine. If we could cut them off from their oil, it would cripple their ability to wage war. The war itself might drag out for a time, but our victory would be inevitable.

General Lergen looked skeptical. "They won't purchase oil from abroad?"

"Our Albish allies should be able to cut them off from foreign sources of oil," I replied. Waging war with the dominating naval on our advantage was a novel experience, but I certainly wouldn't complain. 

"Would they stop American shipping?" he asked.

A fair question. The Albish could be high-handed, but even they would probably flinch at the idea of sparking hostilities with the Americans. Fortunately, this was another area where our public relations efforts were about to bear fruit.

"They could probably work something out," I said. "But I don't think it will be necessary. We'll be relying on Miss Caldwell to cut the Rus off from American oil."

It hadn't given me any particular pleasure to confirm that the communists of this world had carried out many of the same atrocities as the communists I remembered, but I was glad that I was in a position to rub their noses in it. I was curious to see just how much oil they could squeeze out of the Unified States while their crimes were splashed across the front page.

ooOoo​

October 5, 1941, Special Sunday Edition of the New Amstreldam Observer

Russy Federation Industrializes Murder in Kieva

Millicent Caldwell, Kiev - Dear reader, you may be forgiven for reading the headline and assuming that this article is about some new war crime perpetrated by Russy troops. Would that such were the case. Instead, I bring word of an entirely new form of atrocity that the communist regime in Moskva has brought into this world.

In the years 1934 and 1935, the Russy government killed over three million of its own citizens in an engineered famine. You may recall reports in the international press at the time claiming that the Rus had simply suffered from a bad harvest and that their government was doing all that it could to help the afflicted. These were lies.

The food grown in Kieva was shipped out of the region. A pittance came back, not nearly enough to feed the people. Anybody who attempted to leave was forcibly returned or killed. The natural result was mass death in the region on a scale never seen before in times of peace.

Why was this done? Well, the communist regime in Moskva had a vision for the future, a vision that they felt many of the people of Kieva would find objectionable. Thus, they were killed as a precautionary measure.

Simply put, if the communists believe a citizen might prove a detriment to the communist project, they have no compunction in seeing that citizen killed.

All of this was meticulously documented in government files, even as the Russy government continued to lie to the world. The truth might have remained hidden, had not the shocking success of the OZEV advance caught the Rus off guard. Warehouses full of vital documents were captured intact that the communists certainly would have wished destroyed.

I have reviewed the key documents with my own chosen interpreter, as have members of the Albish press. Albish intelligence vouches for their authenticity, as does the OZEV team that recovered the documents. The sheer scope and consistency, the mind-numbing banality of evil carried out in committee meetings and assiduously recorded in the minutes, all put the facts of what was done beyond question.

In addition, I have reviewed correspondence sent by the victims of state-imposed starvation. One can get a sense for the desperate nature of the situation by the, sadly typical, sentiment expressed by a doctor writing to her friend that she had not yet become a cannibal, but that she was "not sure that I shall not be one by the time my letter reaches you."

Indeed, the Rus did not ignore the region entirely. After removing all of the food and trapping the starving people inside for months, the regime assiduously prosecuted over a thousand cases of cannibalism. The government's complicity in forcing its people to such extremes was, of course, left out of the trial records.

I must warn delicate readers that they may not wish to continue reading past this point. Continued inside are detailed descriptions of the atrocities carried out by the Rus, together with copies of primary sources and photographs of the aftermath of this government-created famine. Please consider your own peace of mind before proceeding any further...

ooOoo

​AN2: This would be the in universe version of the holodomor, for those who aren't familiar with it. There's a reason people hate commies.