Post

Region: Saint Helene

Edited

An older looking man with a short grey beard sits in a brown leather recliner. His face is weathered, his leathery skin wrinkled from squinting. He wears an olive drab green jacket, which is wrinkled and worn. He sits opposite a woman in a smart looking suit, with a microphone clipped to her. The woman in the chair is Sandra Murphy, famed reporter and interviewer in Northern Emnaria. The cameramen give her a thumbs up. She looks over at the man in the recliner and smiles at him, “Are you ready sir?”

“Mhm…”

The interviewer mouths to the cameramen, “3… 2… 1…”

Interviewer: Good evening, I'm Sandra Murphy. I'm joined here today by 76-year-old I.E.A. Staff Sergeant Retired, John Melrose. He is a veteran of the 19th, 20th, and 21st Emnari-Melagnean Wars, and a highly decorated warrior. Mr. Melrose, is it alright if I call you John?

John: Yeah, that's fine.

Interviewer: Okay. Well John, I'd like to know just what inspired you to join the military?

John: Well, I uh- my father had served in the imperial army when I was a kid. That was, around 1954 or so. He served in the 18th Emnari-Melagnean War for 2 deployments. I always wanted to follow in his footsteps. I never met him except twice, he was able to get leave and visit home for a bit. But other than a couple holidays I never saw him. When I was 8, so 1956, my mother got a letter saying he had been killed in action outside the village of Maurone. I started to hate the Melagneans, for killing my father. I didn't get to see him much, but when I did he always had this joyful smile on his face. It was uplifting being around him, getting to see him. I can't remember anything bad happening when he was around. And they took that from me, from my mom. So I vowed to join the military and fight ‘em. As soon as I was 17 I signed up, was shipped off to basic, and then to AOT to finish my training. It's a lengthy answer, but if I'm gonna answer I'm gonna make it worth it.

Interviewer: I see. Well I can see why you have been so motivated in your career. May I ask, has your distaste towards Melagnea and Malagneans subsided since you left the service?

John: That's a difficult question to answer.

Interviewer: Would you like me to move on?

John: No…

If you haven't been a soldier, you won't know this. To someone who's only known the simple civilian life, it's gonna be a shock.

When you're a greenback, just get to the frontlines, thrown outta AOT and right into your unit, you still got your old life's mentality. Although disciplined, you're the same you that signed your name on them enlistment papers. But, as you see combat, you see just everything the enemy is willing to do so they can kill you. And sure, some say, “well they're just under orders they can't help it,” damn right they can. Their officer isn't putting his finger on the trigger, they are. They don't have any clue who we are, they didn't grow up with us, they don't know what it was like working on a farm in Southern Emnaria. They ain't grown up speaking Freidish, they can't understand a damn word we say. They can't understand any of our traditions, our lifestyle, our pastimes. But, they'll rob a man of his 20-odd years of life in a split second without thinking, and his mother of years of joy, to only be remembered with grief. They don't give a sh*t, about us, about our parents, about our culture. But what'd we do to them? Exist. We were simply born and became their enemies. They were threatened that our, and some may not agree but I dont give a damn, great country is on their doorstep. They knew that we could destroy their whole regime, but even though we never motioned to attack them, they still felt threatened. As a soldier, even though you only have your little slice of the battle, when you look one of ‘em dead in the eyes and see him shoulder his rifle to shoot you, you realize it pretty quick. He's trying to take your life, and you haven't even spoken a word to him.

You have to hate him. It keeps you alive. You'll never let down your guard, you'll never believe that he is human. He is a monster, he will do anything, at anytime, to kill you. So you have to be ready for everything all the time. Also, you're trained to hate them with passion. Throughout basic and AOT, and the rest of your service, it is drilled into you that they hate you and want to destroy everything you've done in your life. But you are also trained to believe that you are that great protector, the only thing between the enemy and your family at home.

It also didn't help that they killed my father, so yeah, I hated the Melagneans. It's been hard, I have to remind myself not to hate them. But I can't just switch it off. Once you see all the bad in people, you can't unsee it. That's how it is with everyone we fight or rival. The military teaches you to hate them. It isn't just Melagnea, it's everyone. That's changed as Emnaria has, in a way, “opened up” from isolation. But there'll be those ranks filled with veterans. They ain't gonna break the habit of hating pretty much every other country. It's what they been taught. Teach a kid a language and he's gonna keep speaking that language the rest of his life. Ironically, they're gonna be the guys high enough rank for those fancy diplomatic visits. So they're gonna be meeting with the guys they've been trained to hate.

For me, it's been tough. Like I said, I gotta remind myself not to. But I manage. Often I sound biased against ‘em, but it's hard to control. It just slips sometimes.

Interviewer: When did you first see combat?

John: April of 1966. I got deployed to Callean, 120 miles from Konstaht. There was a Melagnean platoon we spotted in the woods southwest of the town. We tracked them for 6 hours before we caught them at a creek. With their backs to the creek, we trapped ‘em between us and that creek. I remember I was dragging behind, I didn't want to move closer to the enemy than I had to. My officer grabbed me by the collar and dragged me up there. I took cover behind a rock, took a big breath, thought of my dad, and turned to shoot. I squeezed the trigger and “bam!”, the rifle fired. I missed. I squeezed again, looking straight into a soldier's eyes. I saw his body jerk, his expression changed from anger, to shock. He looks appalled, as if he couldn't believe what was happening. A second later he fell back and collapsed against the dirt. I almost took a bullet to the head, heard it whiz right passed my ear. So, I took cover again. I was somewhat proud, that I had finally shot a Melagnean. Revenge. But I couldn't just get one. If I died then it'd be back to square one for my kid. So I stood up, shouldered my rifle, picked the closest guy, and “pow!”. He dropped. I ran behind the thickest tree I could find, just big enough to protect me. I peeked out to see if the men I shot were in fact dead. The first one was trying to get back up, but the other one was up and limping around. So I aimed my rifle at him, and squeezed the trigger a couple times. He instantly collapsed and, as best as I could tell, was definitely dead. The other one was on his knees. So I shot him once again. I didn't realize but I was raging. The past 15 years of anger were being unleashed on that one guy. So, I walked over to him, and- I'll make this less gruesome- took the buttstock of my rifle and killed him with it, severely. We took two casualties that day. A helicopter came and picked ‘em up. Luckily they made it out okay. But that, was my first taste of combat. It ain't glamorous, I was f*ckin pissed, and my anger had been caged up. I can't say I was any less angry the rest of that deployment. Combat is hell, I'd be lyin’ if I didn't say that was the case. But at the same time, it's exciting. When you live months on end of it almost every day, all of the fears of dying leave your head. You stop thinking about it, because you get used to being millimeters away from it all the time. It's like living next to a lion, but you're both in the cage. After days you stop to think about being eaten, you think about how to conquer the lion. That's why you hear all these other guys who've been through it, especially long time vets, say they were no longer scared of death. Either it breaks you and you stop caring about dying, or you get used to not dying. Either way, after months, and the rest of your deployments, you become efficient at your job. There's always those few who just can't stand on their own two feet, and at the end of the day, aren't cut out for it. They only last a few weeks, at most a couple months, before they get lazy, lose motivation, and slip up. That's when they get killed. You learn that. You watch the others, the guys who've been around the block, they got a rhythm. You can always tell who's been here a while because they got their own way of doing things. They don't talk much, they don't talk long, they move briskly, they see everything, call it hypervigilance, but they also are relaxed in a tense environment. There could be 200kg bombs blowing up right outside the wire but the old timer next to you is gonna be playin’ his harmonica. It's odd when you look at it from the civ perspective. But when you're a grunt that just got shipped to war, those guys are your role models. They teach you how to survive on the frontline. For the most part, basic gets the basics down, but you can't build a house because you know how to build the frame. You still got the plumbing, wiring, insulation, drywall, you get the gist. There's nothing like it. You can't put combat into words, and you can't experience anything close to it outside of the service.

Interviewer: What is your opinion on new generations joining the military?

John: I think it is a great thing for them to do. The military shapes you in many ways, teaches you discipline, honor, bravery, and dedication.

It's also been a tradition for the past thousand years to join the military. It is what Emnaria was founded on. This country was built on brave young men and it can only sustain itself on new generations of men just like them. Yeah, they should join. I just hope that they can keep our reputation as fierce fighters. Between me, my father, and his fathers, we all fought hard to get to where we are today. I hope that they'll fight just as hard as we did. It's a legacy of Emnaria, we have worked hard to make a name for ourselves as great warriors, a brave people as a whole. That has been to our benefit and detriment, but either way, we've stuck with it. It's who we are as Emnarians, we're born and bred to fight, we always have been.

I'll just say this. There's no way in hell the Emnarian soldier is human. Because the sh*t we did, and new generations continue to do, I'd say it can't be matched by any “normal” person. No, the Emnarian soldier is made of somethin’ different. He's a different breed of man, we been called demons, monsters, evil mindless thugs. Whatever we've been called, it's because people ain't used to seeing that level of ferocity. It's just, somethin' that hits you, you change out there, with the rest of the guys around you. You guys live, fight, and die together. I don't mean on the battlefield. You're an Emnarian, we can't die in front of the enemy, we die at bars doing stupid crap with our battle buddies. *Chuckles*

It's good for these new guys to join the service. If they become disciplined, effective soldiers, then those are the guys I'm talking about. Those, are the special breed I'm talking about.

Interviewer: Well thank you for your time Sergeant Melrose, I'm afraid that is all the time we have today. It was great hearing your story today.

John: It was my pleasure.

Interviewer: Well viewers, stay tuned for more groundbreaking interviews with our veterans.

“The The Austro Germanic Union has been vital to the revitalization of the Emnarian military. As a result, the economy has seen a significant boost in its quarterly GDP, especially in the arms manufacturing sector. With Emnaria's industry rapidly growing, the military may achieve its power projection goal in the Tsyemny Sea by the end of the year.”

-Quarterly Status Report, IEM Foreign Affairs Office, March 2nd, 2024

…

Emperor Wilhelm stands in front of the large windows of his bedroom. He watches as a couple officers walk down the red dirt path of the palace courtyard. The officers wear their black cowboy hats with the golden crossed rifles and eagle insignia, and red band. The officers stop next to the large maple tree, which occupies the center of the courtyard; its long branches, filled with vibrant leaves, cover the surrounding lawn with a cool shade.

Wilhelm watches them talking, their mouths moving, but not a sound penetrating his window. He flips the lever latch and slides the window up. The cool, crisp breeze of the spring air sweeps into the room. His lungs fill with the fresh oxygen of the morning. He takes a minute to breathe and clear his mind, ready for the new day.

He walks over to his wardrobe and puts on his uniform and trench coat. He grabs his service hat and walks out of his room. He passes the guards as they saluted him, the same routine as usual. He walks through his secretary's office, and turns right down a staircase. As he descends the staircase, he enters the 1st level of the building, made out of beige brick, left over from the 1890s. He enters a hallway, walls covered in beige, with a white and black checkered marble floor. Right next to him, is a faded yellow wooden door, with a 4-pane window in it. He turns the old brass doorknob and opens the door, introducing him to the courtyard.

As he walks through the door, his ears fill with the chirps and whistles of the birds. He strolls over to the two officers, who at first don't notice his presence.

One of the officers goes to begin a sentence, but quickly sees the Emperor. He stares at the Emperor as if he saw a ghost, then, very visibly, snaps back to reality, and jumps up to attention. He stands there, not a moving muscle in his body, his hand firmly fixed in a salute. The other officer, with his back facing towards the emperor, looks up at his buddy and asks him, “what the hell are you doin?”

The first officer stands there, without even glancing at his friend. Trying to see what the stir was about, the second officer looks behind him. He frantically scrambles to stand up from the bench and stand at attention.

Wilhelm salutes back and motions for them to have a seat, “Please, I insist.”

The two officers slowly sit down on the bench, leaving room for Wilhelm. The Emperor stands there with his hands in the pockets of his trenchcoat. The officer closest to Wilhelm (the one who had his back turned) introduces himself, “E-Excuse me sir- er- your majesty. I apologize for my lack of etiquette. I am Officer 1st Class, Karlos Meuller. My friend here is Officer 2nd Class, George Pilman.”

“It's nice to meet you Meuller, Pilman. Please, just call me ‘Willy’.”

“Yes your majes-... Willy.”

“How's your boys’ morning been?”

“Just fine sir. Me and my friend here were discussing matters related to the Germanics. Would you care to join us sir?”

Wilhelm sits on the bench, “Sure, I have nothing particularly planned today.”

The officer nods, then looks back at his friend, “Where was I?”

“You were talkin bout the Air Corps planning flights to AGU?”

“Oh yeah! So Willy, we were just talking about how those new aerial refuelers in AGU will affect our strategic bomber range. Oh, and the new ships we're buying from the Germanics.”

“Germanics?”, Wilhelm asks.

Pilman leans over to look at Wilhelm, “Yeah. They're called Germanics right? At least, that's what everyone we've met calls them.”

Wilhelm chuckles, “They're Germans! [I]Germanics! You know what? I like that so much, I'm going to start calling them that, see how they feel about it.”

Meuller continues, “Well, personally I think that this business with AGU is gonna wreck our military.”

Wilhelm looks at Meuller, wearing a stunned look on his face, “Pardon me?”

“I don't mean any disrespect, but I feel that if we rely on the union and their fancy electronic systems, we could easily waltz right into the overconfidence of their space-brained geeks. Besides, those Germanics are just about the cockiest motherf*ckers around. I mean, look at ‘em! They parade around everywhere like they own the place! They don't understand the determination of the Emnarian spirit. My grandfather[I] and [I]his father gave their lives for this empire! And that wasn't before they took 12 commies with ‘em! We don't need those overblown bureaucrats. Ya know what I say? We tell em to leave us to our own playground here in the Tsyemny, and we leave them to whatever they do over there.”

The Emperor frowns, “Listen. I understand your frustration, I will admit these thoughts have crossed my mind before. However, we must accept that we are Emnarians. For the past 150 years, we have been the dominant power in our corner of the globe. We have also become used to our views of being superior to everyone else. I agree, we as a people share an incredible determination, which has pushed us through Hell and back. However, it is always good to remember our place. I'm sure that I cannot convince even a small group of the military that the Germanic Union is a greater power than us; they will not hear it. However, I will do what I can. Besides, you speak as if we are adversaries. We are allies, we must work together for a better world. Also, the way of imperialism is on its way out. More and more democracies are emerging. We have existed as a state for a thousand years, and are holding strong. I have been blessed with the privilege of my position at a time of great stability and understanding from the public, during a period of great innovation and introduction to once foreign ideas. It is the strong Emnarian public, they are our job. You would have nothing to defend, I would have nothing to rule, this land would have nothing to cherish. The land we stand, sit, sleep, hunt, farm, and build on, has respected and protected us, just as we have, it. I believe that our nation will hold strong, and don't misunderstand me, the Germans- or Germanics, have made attempts to introduce new systems to Emnaria. However, I understand the value of our equipment, our doctrines, and our practices, and it has all been developed so much that it works. So, I have done my best to try and modernize our equipment, while keeping it easy to train on, and familiar to crews and the soldier.

As for your concerns with them interfering. I haven't actually had any guff from the union on matters regarding the Tsyemny. I am afraid whatever information you received there was misconstrued, or simply false. I believe that as Emnarians, we are, to some natural extent, superior to the Germans. However, we must temper our egos, and accept them as brothers.”

Meuller stands up and storms off, not even saluting Wilhelm on his way out. Pilman scoots over a couple inches, “I apologize for the rudeness of my friend. I am Officer Pilman.”

“Ah, yes. You've been extraordinarily quiet.”

“Yes. Meuller is, although a good friend, quite an ardent conservative. He is one of the “old breed” types, if you get my meaning. That attitude is part of the reason he outranks me. It doesn't bother me much however.”

“Hm, I see. What is your opinion?”

“Well, your majesty, I believe that the union is a great opportunity for us to gain a powerful friend. And, as you said, embrace them as the brothers they are. I feel this may be difficult, but give it a decade and I believe even the hardline conservative views of the military will come to accept the Germans. I am pronouncing ‘Germans’ correctly, yes?”

“Indeed.”

“It also provides, from the self-interest standpoint, an opportunity for Emnaria to spread its influence on the world stage. We have isolated ourselves for a long time, and I believe we should make every effort for others to understand our capability. If we continue this “meek and mild” foreign politics display, where we basically ignore them, other nations will come to see us as a mere ‘yield sign' instead of a ‘stop sign', if you will.”

“I see. Well, I understand your point well, it has troubled me. I do wish to make the Emnarian Empire a powerful force in international politics, however, we lack the resources, and opportunity to do so. This alliance will aid us in establishing further contacts and becoming more involved in international politics. However, we haven't had the extensive history of involvement in major wars involving multiple major powers. We have fought more than our share of wars, and won many, but we just haven't had the impact on the foreign world that the union has. I believe they will be the greatest friends we can get.”

“Agreed. Well your majesty, I must be off. I have a fellow officer I am supposed to meet at the West Court Cafe in 5 minutes. It was a pleasure meeting you sir.”

“You as well Pilman.”

Pilman stands up, salutes the Emperor, and briskly walks down the red dirt path. Wilhelm sits there for a while. He contemplates the conversation, each detail, each ideal. Suddenly he feels a single cold speck on his face, followed by another. He looks up to see a curtain of white snow descending upon the courtyard. Each snowflake fills its own place in the complex puzzle which will form a blanket upon the ground. He stands up, removes his cap, brushes it off, and replaces it. He walks over to the door which he entered through, and makes his way back to his room.

As he enters his bedroom, he is confronted by a wave of cold. The chill of the room pierces his coat, he walks over to the fireplace and kneels down. He spends the next minutes building a cozy fire, something to bring warmth to the room.

The stone fireplace echoes with the crackle of the orange blaze. Wilhelm stands up and walks over to his desk. He opens the curtain in front of it and sits down, grabbing a sheet of clean white paper, and a quill. In his elegant, old-school cursive handwriting, he begins:

“To his majesty, Kaiser Ferdinand I,

I address this letter to you today, with the hopes that I may further the relationship between our countries. I regret the absence of personal correspondence, but I have been quite busy.

The Empire greatly appreciates our countries’ newfound friendship, it has spurred Emnaria on into the international diplomatic stage, and sponsored a time of innovation and economic boom.

As a people, us Emnarians have been in almost a constant state of war for the past 150 years, only 30 of which were times of peace. We have grown used to being a “lone wolf” of sorts, stuck out on our own. Yet, instead of holding us back, we adapted to embrace it, to build upon it as our strength, not our weakness. However, with such a stubborn, independent spirit taking hold in the nation, it has proven difficult to open relations with foreign countries; it is much akin to opening the floodgates of a big dam upon a small creek, it is simply too much water that the creek is not ready for.

Therefore, I contact you today, with somewhat of a favor to ask. It is in my best interest to enlighten the public to the idea of accepting an ally, rather than the suspicious caution which has so far taken hold. I believe that a diplomatic visit between our nations would do well for our publics to see the mutual friendship we share, rather than a relationship that merely exists on paper. I also believe that through some method, our militaries should push to further mingle and cooperate, hopefully building a level of trust.

Furthermore, I understand the high reliance upon tungsten for your military. As this is the second-most mined metal ore in Emnaria, I believe it is only fair that Emnaria repay the Union in its efforts by supplying it with such materiel. It is the least I can do.

Our two nations, though a very rocky start, have come to accept each other as allies. I only hope we may take our place alongside each other in war and peace, as brothers, not just friends. In relation to the maritime border enforcement crisis, the Emnarian government does not wish to punish the officers involved. To do so, in my eyes, would be hypocritical, Emnaria fares no better with its own officer Corps.

I hope we may meet each other some time soon. With best wishes,
Emperor Wilhelm Von Saksen I”

The Greenlandic North and Canineia

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