Lost The Battle, But Not The War

[JVQ 1719]

Not all is lost.

 

Vladislav approaches the podium, a small limp is eased by a makeshift crutch.

A bandage covers his left eye, his men halved. But he still has hope in

the might People Ruskans Army.

 

 

"Comrades, men of the People's Ruskan Army Army and Navy, commanders and political instructors, working men and working women, collective farmers-men and women, workers in the intellectual professions, brothers and sisters in the rear of our enemy who have temporarily fallen under the yoke of the Lucien brigands, and our valiant men and women guerillas who are destroying the rear of the Lucien fascists!

 

Today the PRA fell to the yoke of the Lucien Fascists, Niccumite Luciens think that this battle has turned the war. This is incorrect. Despite their best efforts the Lucienists can only of hoped to have scraped the surface of our great Union's PRA. The Lucienist outnumbered the PRA 2 to 1 leaving only a small margin for victory, only a third of the expected PRA force was able to mobilise through the snowy conditions, leaving the majority of the PRA at the mighty Flotstad.

 

The perfidious attack of the Lucien brigands and the war which has been forced upon us have created a threat to our land. We have temporarily lost a number of regions, the enemy has appeared at the gates of Flotsam and the Flotstad after wiping the great forces of the PRA frontline. The enemy reckoned that after the very first blow our army would be dispersed, and our country would be forced to her knees. But the enemy gravely miscalculated. In spite of temporary reverses, our Army and Navy are heroically repulsing the enemy’s attacks along the entire front and inflicting heavy losses upon him, while our Union—our entire Union—has organized itself into one fighting camp in order, together with our Army and our Navy, to encompass the rout of the Lucien Fascists.

 

There were times when our country was in a still more difficult position. Remember the year 1444, when we lost the great Bogdanistan. Three-quarters of our Union was at that time was lost in mourning. We had no allies, we had no PRA—we had only just begun to create it; there was a shortage of food, of armaments, of clothing for the Army. Fourteen states were pressing against our country. But we did not become despondent, we did not lose heart. In the fire of war we forged the PRA and converted our Union into a military camp. The spirit of the great Bogdanistan animated us at that time for the war against the interventionists. And what happened? We routed the interventionists, recovered all our lost territory, and achieved victory.

 

To-day the position of our Union is far better than eleven years ago. Our Union is now many times richer than it was eleven years ago as regards industry, food and raw materials. We now have allies, who together with us are maintaining a united front against the Lucienist Fascists. We now enjoy the sympathy and support of all the nations of Anthos who have fallen under the yoke of Niccum’s tyranny. We now have a splendid Army and a splendid Navy, who are defending with their lives the liberty and independence of our country. We experience no serious shortage of either food, or armaments or army clothing. Our entire Union, all the peoples of our country, support our Army and our Navy, helping them to smash the hordes of Lucienist fascists. Our reserves of man-power are inexhaustible. The spirit of the great Bogdan and his victorious banner animate us now in this patriotic war just as they did eleven years ago.

 

Can there be any doubt that we can, and are bound to, defeat the Lucien fascists?

 

The enemy is not so strong as some frightened little intellectuals picture him. The devil is not so terrible as he is painted. Who can deny that our Army has more than once put the vaunted Lucienist troops to panic flight? If one judges, not by the boastful assertions of the Lucienist propagandists, but by the actual position of the Luciens, it will not be difficult to understand that the Lucien-fascists are facing disaster. Hunger and impoverishment reign in Lucien to-day; in four months of war Luciens has lost four and a half million men; They are bleeding, her reserves of man-power are giving out, the spirit of indignation is spreading not only among the peoples of Anthos who have fallen under the yoke of the Lucien fascists but also among the Lucien people themselves, who see no end to war. The Lucien fascists are straining their last efforts. There is no doubt that Lucienist cannot sustain such a force for long. Another few months, another half-year, perhaps another year, and Niccumite Lucien must burst under the pressure of her crimes and the seamlessly endless amount of forces under her will fall.

 

Comrades, men of the People's Ruskan Army and Navy, commanders and political instructors, men and women guerillas, the whole world is looking to you as the force capable of destroying the plundering hordes of Lucien Fascists. The enslaved peoples of Anthos who have fallen under the yoke of the Lucien Fascists look to you as their liberators. A great liberating mission has fallen to your lot. Be worthy of this mission! The war you are waging is a war of liberation, a just war. Let the manly images of our great ancestors—Bogdanistan, Hunwald Coalmein, Seigmund Carrion—inspire you in this war! May the victorious banner of the great Bogdan be your Trebuchet!

 

For the complete destruction of the Lucien Fascists!

 

Death to the Luciens!

 

Long live our glorious Motherland, her liberty and her independence!

 

Under the banner of Bogdan, forward to victory!"

[WuHanXianShi14 0]

"T'ats cute." Says Quinlan Goebbelstein, wiping flotsamers dirty blood off his sword.

[Hobolympic 1093]

Manfredistan limps by Kralta, battered and bruised from the lost battle. He kneels down, running his bloodied hand through the grass as he feels a light breeze roll over his face. He closes his eyes, breathing in slowly.

Manfredistan then quickly grips the tuft of grass, tearing it up from the ground before he puts it in his mouth. He rolls it around in his mouth, tasting it, feeling it. The taste of freedom, today rather bitter. He spits out the chewed-up grass, rising to his feet as he limps along, retreating back to Flotsam. 

[5aml1 2]

Grigori turns to look at the rising sun

 

He smiles

[seannie 7443]

Uh, all we need is a huge harsh snow desert to freeze the fascist lucieni- Wait, what the hell am I talking about.

[Birdwhisperer 1174]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.