by Carlo Zen
"In light of that, gentlemen, and focusing on what happens postwar, our plan should be to intervene. Restoring the balance of power will come with a pile of challenges."
The prime minister and everyone else indicated that since they knew the outcome of the war, they could turn to the next issue. To them, the problem was the shape world order would take once the Empire fell.
"Our friends have borne nearly all the burden. We can't very well just enjoy the fruits of their labor. We should help them out a little."
"We still have the problem of the Federation as well as the loan from the Unified States. Couldn't we just take our improved national security situation as an opportunity to limit military expenditures?"
Some even preemptively celebrated victory, saying it was time to clarify the Commonwealth's position and that now was a chance to make an easy profit.
"It's still a bit too soon for that. Shouldn't we use our uninvolved position to arrange the peace talks?"
"I agree. We should order each agency to conduct a preliminary survey about a peace treaty. We should also have the fleet suggest to the Empire via a demonstration that unless they reach a swift peace, they'll make an enemy of us."
Even the people with fairly grounded opinions talked as if the war would end soon.
"If we hit them with the Royal Navy? Yes, indeed. Surely even the Empire would abandon their reckless resistance if it came down to picking a fight with the world's strongest maritime force and the world's most distinguished land army."
"Yes, they're a sickening bunch of rationalists, they are. If they were able to understand what our intervention would mean, perhaps they would sign a peace treaty before we even had to join the fight."
That is laughably optimistic.
At that point, the man finally had no choice but to chime in, and the urge drove him to his feet.
"Lord Marlborough? Did you have something?"
"Excuse the interruption, Prime Minister, but shouldn't we try to get our feet on the ground? I never thought the day would come that I would have to say, Lauso la mare e tente'n terro ('Praise the sea, but keep your feet firmly planted on the ground') to you gentlemen."
"Lord Marlborough, it's a bit strange to ask you this, considering the navy is your jurisdiction, but our navy possesses not medieval galleys but capital ships up to super dreadnought--class, does it not?"
He understood the sarcastic fellow was reaching for a contextual meaning different from what he intended. So the man, Marlborough, brought his cigar back to his mouth, took a drag, and argued confidently back. "Chancellor Loluyd, I beg your pardon, but if you would kindly take the simple meaning and not get distracted by the context. We can only strike a decisive blow against the Empire with our land army. They're a land nation, so threatening their sea lanes will not cause critical damage."
"Lord Marlborough, I admit that what you're saying is correct. But even so, the Empire is in the process of losing their western industrial region. How will they fight a war once that occurs?"
Sadly, his ideas were only capable of attracting agreement from a purely military viewpoint. As Loluyd sarcastically pointed out, in the event that the Empire lost the western industrial region, which contained the nation's largest manufacturing base, it would lose much of its footing for continuing the war.
Once that happens, surely the Empire will lay down its sword. Even if it wasn't stated explicitly, Marlborough could hear it.
"If you'll allow me to speak in my capacity as Chancellor of the Exchequer, both the Empire and the Republic have virtually obliterated their finances. Just imagine them spending at the same levels for a few more months. They'll end up in the red following the end of hostilities and be stuck paying back loans for forty years."
He spoke of what should perhaps be called the biggest illusion of all: financial limitations. No matter what happens, the Empire and all the rest of the countries participating in the war will go broke. Reaching for his tea with a "Nonsense!" Loluyd must have felt, with a little bit of Commonwealth austerity, that it would be stupid to join a war in which everyone was running their finances into the red.
"Well, but we're going to end up joining anyhow, so it would be annoying to do so too late. For now, get ready to send the fleet out. Let's also order the army to prepare for an expedition."
Marlborough couldn't understand everyone's leisurely attitude; they didn't seem to grasp the gravity of the situation or how great the glory was that awaited. Permission for "preparations," as if that were the prudent move? From his point of view, it would be too late.
"Excuse me---if it's an order, I'll instruct the fleet to be ready, but do you really think the Empire will shamefully retreat and swallow a peace treaty? Don't tell me you gentlemen all seriously believe that!"
And that's why, as his bulldoggish face flushed with anger, Marlborough shouted at the top of his lungs. He wanted to scream at them, Quit joking around! At the same time, he knew that his worst-case prediction wouldn't be funny at all.
The cold looks he was getting proved that they were sharing the same thought. Prepare to deploy? You must be kidding.
"If anything, what comes after that will be the hardest part. Shouldn't we be talking about postwar reconstruction? Where is the money to rebuild the Entente Alliance and Dacia going to come from? I'd like you to think of our gold reserve balance. No matter how City we may be, I'm not sure we can pay all those reconstruction fees."
"On the other hand, we don't want to get overrun by the anarchist Reds. This is such a headache. We need to take into account what the Federation is up to."
From the Chancellor of the Exchequer and the home secretary's exchange, it sounded like everything was decided; they all but said no further debate was necessary.
Of course, they had their points. They gave much more weight to the issue of how to deal with the postwar situation because they had sincere concerns how obliterated finances and economic confusion in a country would give tremendous leeway to the communists for their schemes.
"...Lord Marlborough, did you have something else?" The prime minister's somewhat irritated tone of voice made his thoughts clear: This issue is closed, so why are you still prattling on about it?
"Of course, consulting one another about postwar matters is all well and good, but I'd like you to remember that all of that will only come after we finish up what you gentlemen seem to think is a small matter. Now I hope we can begin drawing up a plan for dispatching troops?"
"If we're dispatching troops, we should keep the Imperial Navy in mind. In other words, the navy should send escorts alongside the land units. To put it another way, the plan is up to you, Lord Marlborough. You may draw it up as you like."
The prime minister, sounding fed up with the whole conversation, readily gave the permission, telling the First Lord he could do as he wished with his authority. His mind was otherwise occupied with intentions to solve domestic issues, especially the serious one to the north, so he felt conflicted about having his time taken up with foreign affairs.
To be frank, the predominant mood of the room was one of annoyance at the First Lord, who seemed so eager to stick their nose into war and root around for glory.
"That said, Lord Marlborough, I realize it's not your jurisdiction, but do you know how many infantry units we have available to send overseas? Seven divisions, plus a division of cavalry. We can't deploy Local Defense Volunteers overseas. What are you even planning to do with that few troops anyway?"
"They can die with the Republicans, can't they?"
The prime minister made that remark with exasperation befitting the leader of a nation with its hands tied, and he was momentarily shocked by the Duke of Marlborough's resolute reply.
Die with the Republicans...? You're saying that's a reason to send young people to the battlefield?
About the same time, however, the cabinet meeting understood the political implications. If Commonwealth soldiers formed ranks with Republican soldiers, and if at the en
d of their march, boots in step, they fell---if even one man from the Commonwealth fell---in an imperial attack, the Commonwealth wouldn't be able to back down.
"Forgive me, Your Grace, but why must we bleed for the Republic? Why not let the Republican peasants till the stability of the continent and then respectfully reap their harvest?"
"It's not as if I necessarily agree with the home secretary, but I'm not going to jump into a fire I am capable of putting out."
And so the cabinet members furrow their brows in thought, pondering why anyone would doubt that staying out of such absurdity would best serve the Commonwealth's interests.
"So the biggest illusion is right after all? The war is already so huge that it's not worth the cost. It would be a waste of money. Did you look at the financials of the warring countries that the Chancellor of the Exchequer put together?"
Ridiculous! They can't keep up these irrational expenditures forever. Why should we have to waste money like that? They had doubts backed up by numbers; in a way, they were right.
"Chancellor, are you certain there's no mistake?"
"Yes. The warring countries are already relying on domestic bonds and foreign loans. The Unified States, in particular, is underwriting the war in great part; their influence is rapidly expanding. The Empire and the Republic are no exception---they don't have enough even after coming up with provisional measures that throw most of their national budget into the military."
"Well. So between reparations and whatnot, the Empire will be put out of commission. Perhaps we should be more worried about political stability in the Republic?"
The opinion indicated that they were convinced the warring countries were already facing those troubles. In other words, the war would naturally end soon. No nation had enough energy to maintain such excessive consumption forever.
And so, as God's chosen country refused to act, Marlborough, with no outlet for his frustration, was compelled to construct a deployment plan "just in case."
But...
Marlborough's plans would change when a furious man from the admiralty flew into his office and told him that all the assumptions the Commonwealth had made were crumbling at their very foundations.
[chapter] II The Intervention, Which Was Too Late
MAY 25, UNIFIED YEAR 1925, IMPERIAL ARMY SUPREME HIGH COMMAND LIAISON CONFERENCE MEETING ROOM
That day, the change in the war situation accompanying the dramatic shift in the lines was enough to slightly frighten the people in the Imperial Army Supreme High Command meeting. To anyone who saw how the pale-faced government officials were silently staring down the General Staff officers, it was readily apparent that the discussion would be stormy.
The reason for the gathering was the situation in the Low Lands resulting from the Imperial Army's surprisingly large-scale retreat.
Thus, when Major General von Zettour from the Service Corps entered the room, he gathered a lot of attention. Everyone expected him to have a good explanation and was eager to hear it.
"Very well, I'll explain our strategy. Currently, our army has succeeded in performing a major reorganization of the front lines by fighting a retreat to a designated defensive position."
But they were disappointed to find their expectations betrayed as Zettour matter-of-factly explained that the operation was going according to plan.
This is the general said to be most knowledgeable about logistics and organization in the rear in the whole army, but this is the best he can do? The civil servants and politicians glared at him accusingly. So you succeeded in retreating. And?
But Zettour himself was unfazed. He leisurely wet his palate by savoring his coffee to the last drop, with a smile that seemed to say, What fine beans.
Not only that, but he reached for the cigar case and began examining the selection one by one to make his choice.
"Yes," he grudgingly continued before putting a cigar in his mouth. "The General Staff feels we are in a position to say that the only forces that pose a threat to the Empire are the Republicans. As such, I would like to report on various developments regarding our maritime strength."
Despite the dissatisfied glares that said, Isn't there something else you should tell us? Zettour nonchalantly closed the topic of the land war. Then, with everyone else looking on speechlessly, he abruptly launched into a calm report on their sea strategy from a diplomatic perspective.
"There have been no major changes to the strength of our fleet. According to the latest reports, the Entente Alliance fleet is being detained by the Commonwealth, but they're actually being protected. We have no reports that any of the personnel on board have actually been captured."
This was all known information that had been previously discussed in this setting. Zettour continued, paying no mind to the incredulity in all the eyes on him.
"In any case, at least the serious seaborne threats are limited to the navies of the Commonwealth and Republic."
He continued his seemingly endless speech with a "Therefore..."
That, combined with his unbelievable composure in the face of the crisis, made them more and more impatient.
His composure in this crisis was acceptable. That could be explained if they accepted that he was a soldier with nerves of steel. But it was shocking to hear an officer of the Service Corps speaking as if he didn't understand the gravity of the situation.
Had the army, the General Staff, failed to notice the crisis under their noses due to their purely military perspective? The attendees of the meeting had to wonder. They had no idea what the General Staff's understanding of the situation was. Zettour's attitude was incredibly concerning.
"May I say a word from the Ministry of Finance?"
"Go ahead."
"Thank you. As we have been warning for some time, and you are no doubt aware, we're already almost entirely reliant on domestic bonds for war funds. I must caution you that prolonging the war could invite economic problems---financial issues---on a scale that would be difficult to ignore."
When Zettour nodded benevolently, yielding to the finance ministry official, the man maintained formal manners, but everyone gasped at the directness of his statement.
That's an awfully serious warning for the finance ministry to give! Or rather, Is the situation so bad as all that?
"General von Zettour, does the General Staff have anything to say on this point?"
"In response to your comment, allow me to say that I'm aware of the hard work and sacrifice taking place on the home front to maintain the front lines. We are tremendously grateful to the home front for its support, and we are fully engaged in our most pressing objective, the obliteration of the Republican Army."
But the response they received from the General Staff's representative was so easygoing and unsubstantial that it was hard to see it as anything but equivocation.
The look on his face spoke volumes.
Zettour pronounced each word carefully in a low voice and made clear that his response was at an end. Afterward, he took his seat and returned to perusing the cigar selection with undisguised confusion on his face at everyone's expectant stares.
We don't doubt your understanding of the home front's situation, but the structured stiffness of your reply makes us wonder if you grasp the severity of it. Though they knew it was rude, the frowning attendees were nonetheless compelled to ask what the hell was going on.
"I don't want to mince words. The Ministry of the Interior points out that not only have we just lost the Low Lands industrial region but the enemy has the western industrial region within range of its heavy artillery. If the army can't resolve this crisis, our industrial production power will be obliterated. What does the army think about that?"
No, this is intolerable.
The official from the Ministry of the Interior projected that sentiment with his entire body. After calming down with a couple deep breaths, he delivered his words slowly, as if tasting each one, and all the civil servants present nodded in heartfelt agreement.
The Low Lands industrial region---well, the western industrial region---was truly the Empire's manufacturing base and, hence, its key to continuing the war.
"The Foreign Office understands that we need to consult with the army regarding what steps to take. As for our understanding that we may have to take some unfortunate political measures, we'd like you to indicate what is appropriate."
"The Ministry of Finance hesitates to say it flatly, but..."
I can't believe you would brazenly do something as foolish as to reorganize the lines and open up the Low Lands industrial region to crisis. His whispered voice hesitated to say it, but the mood of the meeting veered distinctly toward the negative. Yet the man at the middle of the maelstrom, Zettour, didn't seem the least bit ruffled. In fact, he seemed completely relaxed, sipping his coffee over the cigar case, completely absorbed in making his selection. "Should I go with this Double Corona? No, I should think a bit more."
After all the exhortations and frank opinions, he finally requested permission to respond, in a tone that said he found it tiresome. It served to stoke everyone's anger.
"I've heard the same concerns at court. I wish to apologize here on behalf of the army for worrying His Imperial Majesty. But I have every confidence we will achieve a breakthrough soon."
The result, however, was that he made a move that was either bold or out of touch and launched into an extended apology to the imperial court.
Everyone was thoroughly irritated at losing so much time to this unproductive exchange, but someone whispered that they had to hand it to him, in a way, for his impressively thick skin. He had even ordered a second cup of coffee.
Then Zettour suddenly seemed to be conscious of the time and took an easygoing look at his pocket watch, which brought the entire room's patience to its limit.
"...Must be almost time."
When he mentioned this in an untroubled tone, everyone stared as if to see whether he would start preparing his things to leave.