Blood and Iron: The Conquests of the Chancellor

[MTB4884]

March 7, 920 AD

Chancellor's Study, Imperial Palace
Berlin, Germany
7:54 p.m.

Prinz Helmut and his son Prinz Franz stood up as Chancellor Bismarck slowly entered his study and sat behind the desk. ”All right. I expect that the good Military Minister will be here shortly. Franz, we shall begin with you. What do you think we should do about Khiva?”

“Well, Grandfather,” he replied, “from what Minister von Landscheid has told us, we have the advantage even now at Khiva. However, we cannot yet strike with the full might of the Empire for at least several months. The city of Khiva is not going anywhere. I think we should launch an aerial assault on the city once our bomber wings are in place, and only then begin a ground attack. This will save the lives of many German soldiers.”

“A reasonable approach, Franz,” said the Chancellor. “Do you agree, Helmut?”

“I am sorry, Father, but I must support the recommendation of the Military Minister. We have 4th Corps already in place, and all they require is your order to begin the attack. We do know that the Sultan has many Sipahi divisions racing west, trying to reach their Sultan and reverse our territorial gains in the war. Waiting until our bombers are ready may give the evil Sultan a chance to escape into the Siberian wilderness, to the great detriment of us all. He has already eluded us at Samarkhand, at Burkhara, and at Kerki. I do not wish to see him add Khiva to that list.”

“A sound...” Whatever the Chancellor might have said was lost as the intercom rang. “Yes?”

“My Chancellor, Minister von Landscheid is here as you requested.”

“Very well, Gunter. Send him to my study, please.” Presently the Military Minister arrived at the study, and bowed as usual to his leader. “Hans, before we discuss the matter of Khiva, is there any news of importance to report?”

“One other matter, my Chancellor. GNS Greyciv reports encountering and sinking two more light barbarian galleys in the Bismarck Sea, while suffering no damage or casualties on her part. We will eventually need to send bombers and ground troops into the area to destroy the barbarian camps on those remote islands, as we are already doing in the Azores.”

“That will be a question for another day, Hans. Now then, is it still your opinion that we should proceed immediately against Khiva?”

“I can only say, my Chancellor, that I believe we have sufficient ground forces in place to overwhelm the defenses at Khiva. We have the chance to end the Turkish threat forever, and all we need is the necessary will to do so.”

The Chancellor stood up, with some difficulty, and walked to the window with the help of his ivory cane. He looked outside, towards the night skies over Berlin, before he spoke. “I once faced the same basic problem during the last Indian War. The great Karl von Clauswitz told me that we had the ground forces available to overwhelm the Mahatma's fanatical defenders at Calcutta, and recommended that we proceed with a renewed assault on the city. He also said, however, that we did not have an army Corps available to ensure a German victory. It was a difficult decision, even though I was a younger and more able ruler back then.”

He turned back to the others. “I decided to order the attack on Calcutta to proceed seventeen years ago, and the final result was a German victory which crushed the Mahatma's evil regime forever. We have tanks today, and even aircraft, which were but a mad dream back then. The fighting spirit of our soldiers is as strong today as it has ever been. We shall not delay our final victory over the Turks for longer than absolutely required. Hans, you will take the necessary steps to proceed with an assault on Khiva at your discretion.”

“It shall be done, my Chancellor. It may be prudent to attempt contact with Agent Tricky before our attack begins, if for no other reason that to warn a loyal servant of the Empire of what is coming.”

“A good idea, Hans. Proceed as you have said. Thank you for coming to the Palace this evening. Dismissed.” The Military Minister bowed to his leader once again and took his leave. There was a brief silence until Prinz Franz spoke up. “I am sorry, Grandfather, that I spoke wrongly tonight.”

“Not at all, Franz,” replied the Chancellor. “I have encountered this very situation before, as I told the Military Minister. Indeed, it was your father who convinced me to approve the attack on Calcutta seventeen years ago, though he did not say so tonight.”

“I did not need to, Father,” said Prinz Helmut with a smile. “I reviewed my own personal notes from that time earlier today, since the relevant Palace archives were, as Gunter put it, 'already checked out by the Chancellor himself.'”

“Why didn't you simply look them up online, Father?” asked Prinz Franz. “Surely that would have been much easier than obtaining the physical books?”

Again Prinz Helmut smiled. “A fair question, Franz. To be honest, I simply didn't think of it. Besides, not everything in the Palace archives has been indexed on the Internet for security reasons. There will still be a place for the wisdom and practical experience of your elders in the German Empire of the future. Remember this when you become Chancellor in due time.”

“I will, Father.”

 

[MTB4884]

March 15, 920 AD

Hut #1, Stalag 1
22 klicks SW of Leipzig, Germany
3:40 p.m.

“All right, Georg,” said Sgt. Krupp. “This should be a good time to inspect the hut, while the prisoners housed here are in the exercise yard. We will have another twenty minutes.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Georg as the two guards entered Hut #1. The bare wooden walls gave neither concealment nor cover. Rows of bunk beds lined the walls, and a small wooden stove stood in the southwest corner. A wooden cabinet, with no doors, held racks of mugs above a basic sink. “Proceed, Georg,” ordered the sergeant. “I want to see whether you can put theory into practice. There is at least one forbidden weapon which is hidden in this room by the prisoners.”

“Yes, sir!” The new Guardsman started with the simple mattress nearest him, feeling inside the straw for anything out of place. Finding nothing, he continued to the next one, while Sgt. Krupp watched, his expression unreadable. It was not until the thirteenth mattress was searched that Georg exclaimed, “There's something in here!” He reached inside and pulled out a wooden dowel, with the beginnings of a sharpened point on one end.

“Not bad, Georg. Obviously someone is working on a crude shank. This is the first one we have found in the last couple of months.” He made a note on his pad. “However, that is not the weapon I was thinking of. Keep looking.”

“Yes, Sergeant.” Georg resumed his search, but, after looking very carefully through the twentieth mattress, was forced to admit, “I'm sorry, sir. I don't know where the other weapon is.”

“Oh, very well.” Sgt. Krupp walked over to a particular bunk, and kicked one of the lower support frame brackets. The entire bracket slipped free, revealing a crude metal knife concealed inside. “Take a good look, Georg. Do you see the scratches, here and here? This is a crude attempt to duplicate the Sultan's coat of arms. This knife was specifically made for Prince Rasoul by his loyal subjects. Someone carefully melted some wax to hide the fact that the bracket is no longer properly connected to the bed frame.”

“How...how did you ever find that in the first place, sir? And why on earth should we allow the prisoners to have that knife?”

Sgt. Krupp smiled grimly. “My elder brother worked as a prison guard at Metz for quite some time. You would scarcely credit how inventive prisoners can be given sufficient time and patience. They have a display wall at the prison covered with dozens of such weapons. We are fortunate that these Turks are better guarded here at Stalag 1.”

“Yes, sir. I'll be sure to look at the bed frames when we next do a search.”

“Good. Now, please refill the teapot and put it on top of the stove. We do not want any of these important prisoners complaining of their treatment to Commandant Waud, now do we? I'll just put this knife back where it was.”

“Yes, sir.” Sgt. Krupp lit a match, after replacing the knife, and began to remelt the wax to conceal it within the bed frame once more. He was nearly finished when he heard an “Oops!”, followed by a loud crash and splashing water.

“What did you do?”

“I'm sorry, sir! I dropped the teapot off the stove.” Georg was relieved for a moment that his superior was focused on the edge of the flagstone, where a small water stain had formed. “There is something wrong, here, Georg. The water should have pooled on the floor, but instead has drained away.” The sergeant went to the sink and filled up a mug, and then carefully poured it over the edge of the flagstone next to the stove. His expression tightened as the water simply disappeared.

“That's impossible, sir!”

“Help me move this stove, Georg. I think you have redeemed yourself today.” The heavy stove shifted aside under their combined efforts, revealing a meter-wide hole disappearing into darkness. “Sir, that's an escape...” Suddenly the guards could hear footsteps approaching the hut, and moments later the single door opened. Prince Rasoul and former Ambassador Tarkaan stepped inside, and then halted in shock at the sight of the stove and the open hole beneath it.

“Gentlemen,” said Sgt. Krupp, “you will both come with me at once! I believe you have some explanations to make to Commandant Waud.”

 

[MTB4884]

March 15, 920 AD

Chancellor's Office, Imperial Palace
Berlin, Germany
3:00 p.m.

The intercom rang on the Chancellor's massive mahogany desk. “Yes?”

“Minister von Gesler is here to see you, my Chancellor.”

“Ah. Send him in.” Moments later the new Foreign Minister entered the office. He seemed quite nervous as he bowed to his leader. “My Chancellor, there is a matter of some...delicacy which I must discuss with you. I am not even quite certain how to begin to explain.”

The Chancellor leaned back in his custom-made chair. “Ernst, let me suggest something. You are worried that, with our recent military successes against the Turks, we will soon be in a situation where the Empire has no other formal powers to deal with. Accordingly, you are concerned about both your own fate and the fate of the entire Foreign Ministry.”

The Minister looked with shock at his leader for several seconds, before he recovered his composure with an effort. “That...is quite right, my Chancellor. How ever did you know?”

“Ernst, I have had the inestimable privilege of serving the Empire as Chancellor for more than forty years. I would be concerned about the situation myself, were I in your shoes. However, to answer your concerns, I have every reason to believe that the Foreign Ministry will continue to function indefinitely, though perhaps in a reduced capacity. It will take quite some time, for example, to fully integrate the conquered lands of the evil Sultan into the Empire, and your Ministry has the staff to greatly assist this process.”

“Thank you very much, my Chancellor.”

“I should also add, of course, that you yourself will remain as Minister for the indefinite future. I have not specifically spoken with Helmut on the matter, but I have no doubt that he will want you to stay on when he takes my place in four years time. Your late predecessor was a close friend, and was an invaluable resource for us all.”

“But...my Chancellor, I thought he opposed many of your policies?”

“Indeed he did. It is most useful to have someone on the Ministry Council who approaches difficult matters of state with a different perspective. Ludwig was a man who said what he thought and what he believed, even when it was not the popular opinion. I shall expect you to do the same as Foreign Minister.”

“I will do my best, my Chancellor...and, er...” Suddenly the intercom rang once again. “Yes?”

“Minister von Landschied to see you on an urgent matter, my Chancellor.”

“Very well, Gunter. Send him in, please.” Moments later the Military Minister entered, and, after giving a nod to his colleague, bowed to his leader. “My Chancellor, I have a serious incident to report to you. There was a major escape attempt from Stalag 1, which was discovered earlier today. A large tunnel was dug beneath one of the huts, and had been extended to within fifty meters of the perimeter fence. Prince Rasoul and Ambassador Tarkaan claimed responsibility for the tunnel, no doubt to shield their countrymen from reprisal. Commandant Waud requests instructions as to how these men should be treated.”

“We should be magnanimous towards them, my Chancellor,” insisted the new Foreign Minister. “They tried to escape, as was their solemn duty.”

“And we should simply let the escape attempt pass, Ernst?” replied the Military Minister. “They should, at the very least, spend a considerable amount of time in solitary confinement! We cannot let such things continue!”

“I tend to agree with Ernst,” decided the Chancellor after a little thought. “Surely we would have at least tried to escape had the situation been reversed. We must, however, make certain that there are no other escape tunnels at Stalag 1.”

“Of course, my Chancellor. I have already ordered a careful search of all the huts. So far no other tunnels have been found.”

“Very well, Hans. As for Prince Rasoul and Ambassador Tarkaan, since they have chosen to take the blame for the tunnel, I think we shall take them at their word. I want you to have them work to fill in the tunnel, under proper guard of course. That is a better solution than simply throwing them into the cooler, if I recall the Stalag camp parlance correctly.”

“A sound plan, my Chancellor,” replied the Military Minister, as his colleague nodded in agreement. “We should, however, use proper equipment and materials to ensure that the tunnel is permanently secured. A load of concrete is scheduled to arrive at the camp tomorrow for that purpose.”

“So much the better, then, Hans. I shall leave the precise details in your capable hands. Now, is there anything else?”

“One other matter, my Chancellor. We have heard from Agent Tricky in Khiva. He made a most useful suggestion as to the precise timing of our assault on the city. Specifically, he suggests we begin on the night of April 1st. The Sultan will be celebrating his birthday that night, and we may be able to achieve tactical surprise if we do not provoke the defenders that day. The delay will also allow us to have 3rd Corps and two Panther divisions in place, in addition to 4th Corps.”

“Excellent, Hans. Proceed, then, as you have said. Thank you both for coming in today. Dismissed.”

 

[MTB4884]

April 1, 920 AD

Sultan's Mansion
Khiva, Turkish Sultanate
9:30 p.m.

Sultan Kassim Timur-Lenk, leader of the Turks, was looking down from the narrow balcony upon the Kazak Dancers performing on the stage below when one of his last pages rushed to his side. The page's fear and terror was written plainly on his features as he blurted out, “The Germans are attacking in force at the northern and eastern gates, O great Sultan!”

The Sultan's next order had been planned for months. “Be calm, everyone! To the War Room! Find General Aziz and Mugawe at once!” The dancers continued to perform as he left the balcony, and in seconds he was in the War Room, which had been converted from a spare bedroom a few months ago.

“Report, General!”

“O wise Sultan, German tanks have broken through both the north and east gates, supported by cavalry troops. They will be here within an hour at most.”

“We must flee at once, O mighty Sultan!” urged Mugawe, the Sultan's translator and unofficial advisor. “The escape tunnel is ready and waiting for us.”

It took but a moment for the Sultan to make his decision. “Then the three of us must flee at once. Mugawe, lead on.”

“I hear and obey, O great Sultan.” The three men made their way to the basement, where Mugawe pressed a concealed switch along the wall. “Through here! The tunnel leads to the west, outside the city. We will make our way through the mountains to safety.” Sultan Kassim looked dubiously past the secret door at the narrow, dark tunnel. “I am sorry, O patient Sultan,” said Mugawe in response to the expression on the Sultan's face. “I fear we did not have time to prepare a larger escape route, for fear of discovery by the Germans.”

“It will serve, I think. General Aziz, lead off.” The General did just that, turning on his battery-powered torch, with the Sultan following just at his heels. Mugawe lingered long enough to close the secret door behind them from within the tunnel. It seemed to take ages of crawling through the rough-hewn tunnel before General Aziz whispered, “A ladder! We are almost free!”

“Then proceed, by all means.” General Aziz climbed up the ladder, turning off his torch as he reached the top, and stepped out into the night. “All clear, O mighty Sultan,” he whispered, and so the Sultan, with Mugawe following just behind, climbed up the ladder. They were in a small clearing, perhaps twenty meters across, surrounded by trees barely visible in the dim moonlight. Faint sounds of gunfire could be heard from the city of Khiva to the east.

“I fear my clothes are ruined forever,” sighed the Sultan as he vainly tried to dust himself off. “At least we have escaped from Khiva.”

A guttural voice replied, in German, “I think not. Lights!” Three flares were hurled into the sky, bathing the clearing in an eerie white glow. A full squad of German infantrymen, guns at the ready, stepped into the clearing. “Sultan Kassim, the trap is now closed! You and General Aziz are now German prisoners!” boomed the same unseen voice in Turkish.

“What?!? How?!?” stammered the Sultan as realization hit him. “Mugawe?!? This must be your traitorous work!”

“Yes it is, O vile Sultan,” replied Mugawe, his voice practically dripping with contempt. “I am actually Agent Tricky, deep cover agent of the Abwehr, at your service.” He clicked his heels together in the Prussian fashion. “Now, Sultan, you must answer for your numerous crimes.”

Suddenly a massive explosion from the city lit up the night sky in orange fire. What followed next was a blur of reflexes. Sultan Kassim pulled out his pearl-handled pistol and fired at Mugawe, who fell to the ground. A fusillade of gunfire from the no longer distracted German soldiers quickly cut down the Sultan. “General Aziz, you will meet the same fate as your leader if you move a muscle!”

 

[MTB4884]

OOS: Hooray! The forums migration has been completed! Next update coming right up.

**
April 3, 920 AD

Family Quarters, Imperial Palace
Berlin, Germany
1:30 a.m.

“My Chancellor! Please, wake up!”

“What is it, Rudi?” asked the Chancellor, rather grumpily.

“Minister von Landscheid is here, in your study, with urgent news from Khiva, my Chancellor.”

“Very well, then. Go wake up Helmut, and have him join me in the study immediately.” The chamberlain rushed out to carry out his orders as the Chancellor wearily got dressed again. The Military Minister bounded to his feet and bowed as his leader entered the study. “So, Hans, I trust you have a good reason for coming to the Palace at this hour?”

“Indeed, yes, my Chancellor.” The Minister's eyes were bright with excitement. “Troopers from 4th Corps led the assault into Khiva very early this morning, our time. We received a report from the front stating that Sultan Kassim himself was killed.”

“Really, Hans? You are quite certain?”

“Yes, my Chancellor. I have already ordered that our forces work to recover the body of the Sultan. It appears that he was in the very act of attempting to murder our Agent Tricky when he was killed by our troops. Agent Tricky was gravely wounded, but is expected to survive.”

“But this is marvelous, Hans! That means the Turkish War is finally over!”

“Very nearly so, my Chancellor. There is one small piece of bad news, however. Our information is that the Turks are fighting hard to the very end, and have gone so far as to attempt to destroy the city rather than permit it to fall into our hands. I do expect that the resistance will end within the next day or so.”

“Just as they did at Antalya.” The Chancellor stood up, with the help of his ivory cane. “So, what do you recommend we do now, Hans?”

“Several things, my Chancellor. First, we must try to save what parts of Khiva we can. Our troops on the ground are doing their best, but the conditions are not as favorable as at Antalya. I also recommend that you address the Reichstag on the 4th.”

“Then I shall tell Axel to arrange that for noon...wait. You said the 4th, Hans? Why the delay in telling the Empire the good news?”

“That, my Chancellor, is connected to another matter of importtance. We have sighted Turkish troops approaching Konduz, and more Sipahi cavalry approaching Antalya. I would like to send parley teams to both locations, with a view to inducing these forces to surrender peacefully.”

“That will be difficult, Minister,” pointed out Prinz Helmut. “Why would the Turks believe us in such a matter? How can we convince them to surrender peaceably?”

“There may be a way, Prinz Helmut. Crown Prince Rasoul is now the leader of the Turks, though of course he has not been formally installed as Sultan. It was my thought that you, Prinz Helmut, could travel again to Stalag 1 and ask the new Sultan for his cooperation. We will more easily secure his assistance if we have irrefutable proof of Sultan Kassim's death.”

“I suppose it is worth a try,” replied the Prinz. “I shall gladly volunteer for this mission.”

“Very well, then, Helmut. You will go to Stalag 1 as Hans has suggested. You might take Traudl with you when you go to Stalag 1. I'm sure she would like to witness history in the making.” He turned to the Military Minister. “Hans, you are truly to be commended for your magnificent work in this difficult time. The victory at Khiva is a victory for all the Empire.”

“Thank you, my Chancellor.”

 

[tR1cKy]

After a lengthy absence, i came back to this section and caught up with the story. I'm glad to see it lived up to its good quality, until... the end maybe? The war with the Turks appear to be over, and if i'm not mistaken it's a conquest victory. What will happen now?

 

[MTB4884]

OOS: Welcome back to the story, tR1cKy! So, what will happen in the story, now that Sultan Kassim is dead and the last citadel of the Turks is in flames? All I can say for the moment is stay tuned for the next update, which is coming right up!

***
April 4, 920 AD

Commandant's Office, Stalag 1
22 klicks SW of Leipzig, Germany
11:30 a.m.

Commandant Waud smiled at the two highest ranking Turkish prisoners in his camp, who were presently sitting before him in his office. “Gentlemen, once again you have been asked to assist us in a special interview. The good Prinz Helmut will explain everything.” Commandant Waud pressed a button on the intercom, and moments later Prinz Helmut, accompanied by his daughter Traudl, entered the office. The Turkish Prince spoke first after an awkward silence. “So, Prinz Helmut, what strange question will you or your daughter put to Ambassador Tarkaan and myself today?”

Prinz Helmut smiled in response, though with little humor. “That will take a little time to explain, Prince...er... Sultan Rasoul. You see, gentlemen, our forces took Khiva early yesterday, our time. It is my sad duty to tell you that Sultan Kassim was killed in a futile attempt to flee the city.”

“And just how do you know this?”

“Father is scheduled to address the Reichstag and the German people at noon today, or in about half an hour. He will publicly confirm that the city of Khiva, or more precisely what is left of it, has fallen into German hands. His speech will be broadcast over the radio to Stalag 1, as well as the rest of the Empire. I should perhaps say, by the way, that there will be a full company of infantrymen on duty here at Stalag 1 to quell any...disturbances. Father will also confirm the death of Sultan Kassim. Again, Sultan Rasoul, you are now the leader of what remains of the Turkish Sultanate.”

Neither the Ambassador nor the newly promoted Sultan seemed at all pleased at the news. “Is that all, Prinz Helmut?” finally replied the Sultan. “Did you come here merely to tell me that?”

“Why, no, Sultan Rasoul.” Even Prinzessin Traudl realized that her father seemed to take great pleasure in repeating the formal title of the leader of the Turkish enemy. “There are two other matters which concern you. First, Father will also announce a formal amnesty for most of the Turkish prisoners of the Empire. They, upon taking a loyalty oath, will be permitted to return to their native cities in peace. However, there are some individual prisoners who are accused of committing certain specific crimes against the German people. The necessary trials will be held in Nuremberg.”

“And I suppose Prince Rasoul and I will be among that number?” asked Ambassador Tarkaan.

“Sultan Rasoul, Ambassador, and yes. The precise formalities are still being worked out, but I imagine that we shall begin the trials by early summer. I expect that the amnesty program which Father will announce shall begin almost immediately.”

“You mentioned two matters, Prinz Helmut,” replied Ambassador Tarkaan. “What is the other?”

“Ah. We have determined that the remains of three Turkish guerrilla divisions are now approaching the occupied city of Konduz. Other Sipahi troops have also been sighted near Antalya, including the 11th Samarkhand. We would like Sultan Rasoul to confirm to them, in his own voice over the radio, that their cause is lost and to persuade them to surrender peacefully.”

“Never!” replied the new Sultan. “We shall fight to the end!”

“This is the end, Sultan Rasoul,” was the cool reply. “I should perhaps add that this offer is not being made out of any particular military necessity on the part of the Empire. We are quite prepared to destroy these forces I speak of by conventional means. Their only chance for survival involves your cooperation.” He paused for a moment, and then gestured to his daughter.

“Sultan Rasoul, the war is now over. Surely you would prefer to be remembered as the Turkish leader, who, in his darkest hour, acted with honor and integrity to save what lives he could.”

“The mantle of leadership is a difficult thing, Prinzessin Traudl, especially to those who, like yourself, lack experience in exercising it. I personally would prefer to be remembered as the Turkish leader who kept faith with his predecessors as Sultan. I shall also require much more than the bare word of you and your father before taking the drastic step he has asked of me.”

“We have a good deal more than just my bare word, Sultan Rasoul,” replied Prinz Helmut grimly. Commandant Waud pressed the intercom button at a nod from the Prinz. “Send in the other special prisoner, Sgt. Krupp.” Moments later a somewhat disheveled man was marched into the office. “I have no doubt that both of you will recognize General Aziz, chief of the late Sultan Kassim's army.”

“How...What happened, General?” stammered the new Sultan.

“A vile betrayal from within, O wise Sultan. I regret to tell you that your father was killed, pistol in hand, in the act of revenging himself upon the German traitor. The great and glorious Sultan Kassim died with honor.”

“I have a question, Prinz Helmut,” put in Commandant Waud after another awkward silence. “What shall we do about those prisoners who were involved in the escape attempt two weeks ago? Will they also face justice at Nuremberg?”

“We shall do nothing about them, at least for the present. Their fate, along with the Turkish divisions I spoke of, will depend upon the wisdom and statesmanship of Sultan Rasoul. We are not the merciless and evil killers of Turkish propaganda, and, now that the war is over, we can afford the luxury of being magnanimous.”

“What of your arcane rules of proper conduct of warfare, Prinz Helmut?” asked the Ambassador. “You are asking a great deal of us, even under the circumstances.”

“A fair question, Ambassador Tarkaan. I have not asked for any military secrets from you or Sultan Rasoul. Frankly, neither of you have any secrets of military importance any longer. At most, you may know of a few matters of purely historical interest to Traudl and other historians of the Empire. Besides, the war is now over. I merely offer Sultan Rasoul the chance to spare the lives of many Turkish warriors. Otherwise, I shall report your refusal, and the proper steps shall be taken.” The Prinz's tone left little doubt as to their fate. “What is your answer, Sultan Rasoul?”

Everyone in the office looked to the new Turkish leader. He in turn looked at General Aziz for a few moments, and then faced Prinz Helmut. “Your daughter is quite right, Prinz Helmut. There is no honor in permitting Turkish warriors to die needlessly in a lost cause. I will cooperate in making the radio message as you ask.”

 

[MTB4884]

April 4, 920 AD

Family Quarters, Imperial Palace
Berlin, Germany
7:00 p.m.

Chancellor Otto von Bismarck smiled at his son Prinz Helmut as the latter, accompanied by his daughter Traudl, entered the study. “Welcome back, Helmut. It seems your mission to Stalag 1 was successful. I expect the Military Minister will be here shortly with all the details.”

“I shall be glad to hear of it, Father. I wish you could have seen the crowds at Grand Central Terminal when Traudl and I arrived back in Berlin. I have not seen the like since the end of the last Indian War seventeen years ago.”

“That is what Axel told me a little while ago.” The Chancellor was as relaxed as his son had ever seen him. “I have even permitted most of the Palace staff to take the night off. It is not every day that the Empire wins a great war.”

“Not just a war, Father, but the last great war. The rule of the Empire now spans all the world, just as you promised during your last inauguration speech. The evil Turks shall never threaten us again.” A knock sounded at the door as the Prinz finished. “Come in!” said the Chancellor.

A young maid entered, carrying a tray with a bottle of Hochrotwein and three glasses. “Ah, Thank you, Renate. I think that will be all.”

“A moment, Father, with your permission. Renate, would you please bring in a bottle of lemonade as well? Young Traudl is still of tender years.” The maid looked to her leader, who nodded once, and then curtsied before heading back out of the study. She had scarcely left when another knock sounded at the door. “Come in!”

This time the Military Minister entered, followed by Prinz Franz a pace behind. “Ah, Hans. I trust you have more news from the front?”

“Yes, my Chancellor,” replied the Minister, bowing to his leader as he did so, while the Prinz found a seat on the couch. “We have confirmed that the 11th Samarkhand Sipahi has surrendered. General Schwartz reports that there were many desertions among the Turkish forces. Apparently they have not been paid in some time. I foresee little difficulty in convincing what enemy troops remain to lay down their arms as well. The situation in Siberia will of course bear watching for some time.”

“Now that is good news indeed, Hans. Perhaps you would care to join us in a glass of Hochrotwein? Surely you have earned it.”

“Why thank you, my Chancellor.” Prinz Franz stepped to the table and quickly poured out a glass of Hochrotwein. He was in the act of handing over the glass when another knock sounded at the study door. “Come in!”

The same maid as before entered, carrying a large tray with a pitcher of lemonade and three glasses. “Oh! Um...my Chancellor, should I bring another glass?”

“No need, Renate. That will be all for now. We shall ring if we require anything.”

“Yes, my Chancellor.” The maid curtsied to her leader and left at once, while Prinz Franz busied himself pouring out glasses of lemonade for himself and his younger sister. “Hans, did you have anything else of importance to report?”

“There is one other matter, my Chancellor. We are fortunate enough to have a battlecruiser in position near the remote islands in the South Pacific. There are still large numbers of barbarians in the area capable of building light galleys. I recommend that we task GNS Greyciv with precisely locating all of the major barbarian encampments in the vicinity, and destroying any barbarian ships which she encounters. Our maps of these waters are still incomplete, since what survey ships we once had did not linger in barbarian territory for longer than absolutely necessary.”

“A prudent plan as usual, Hans. Approved.” The Chancellor paused for a moment. “Actually, there is one other matter. I want you to take a week's vacation, once the proper orders have been given to Greyciv.” He stopped the Minister's protest with a raised hand. “Your tireless work as Military Minister was instrumental in our victory over the Turks. Surely you deserve at least this small token of our appreciation and thanks.”

“Thank you very much, my Chancellor.” The Military Minister looked a little uneasy. “Should we ring for the maid to bring another wine glass, my Chancellor?”

“No need, Minister,” put in Prinz Franz. “Traudl and I will simply drink lemonade instead. That will give us enough wine glasses for you and Father and Grandfather.”

“But..er...Prinz Franz?” began the Minister.

“We surely owe the staff here at the Palace the chance to enjoy the national holiday which Grandfather has proclaimed, to the extent possible,” insisted the Prinz. “Besides, to be honest, I have not yet developed much of a taste for Hochrotwein.”

“Franz has a good point,” said the Chancellor, smiling at his grandson as he did so. “I think such a considerate attitude will bode well for him when he takes my place as Chancellor in due time.”

“I hope, Grandfather, that it will be many years from now,” replied the Prinz.

“We shall see, Franz. Now, is everyone ready?” Everyone held up their respective glasses of Hochrotwein or lemonade. “A toast, then. To victory for the Empire!”

“Victory for the Empire!”

 

[MTB4884]

April 4, 920 AD

Western Balcony, Imperial Palace
Berlin, Germany
11:00 p.m.

Chancellor Otto von Bismarck looked out over the balcony rail into the night, listening to the distant chimes of the GrosGunter tower. He could see the lights of Berlin past the Palace walls. Many of the citizens were still celebrating the end of the Turkish War, as they had been doing for hours now. This is just as it was seventeen years ago, when the vile Mahatma was finally defeated! His idle musings were interrupted by a familiar voice from behind him. “Good evening, Father,” said Prinz Helmut. “I hope I am not distubing you.”

“Not at all, Helmut,” replied the Chancellor with a smile. “I was remembering what it was like when the Indians were finally defeated. It is hard for me to believe, in a way, that the wars of the Empire are over. I had not truly considered what should happen once the Turks were defeated.”

“That, Father, is a good problem for the Empire to have. We still have a little mop up work to do in a few areas. It will take years to integrate the former Turkish lands into the rest of the Empire, from what the Domestic Minister told me a few minutes ago.”

“Quite true, Helmut. I think the only Minister we have not seen at the Palace tonight is the Science Minister. Perhaps he has not yet heard of the fall of Khiva and the end of the war.” The Chancellor was interrupted by a polite cough from behind him. “Your pardon, my Chancellor. Minister von Bohr has just arrived at the Palace.”

“Excellent, Rudi. We were just discussing him. Send him here, please.” A few moments later the Science Minister duly arrived on the western balcony. “Ah, welcome, Niels. Thank you for coming at such a late hour.”

“It is my pleasure, my Chancellor,” replied the Science Minister as he bowed to his leader. “I was working late at the Tor Research Center and did not hear the good news until a few minutes ago.”

“Better late than never, I suppose,” said the Chancellor with a smile. “How is your genetic research progressing these days? I fear that the war has preoccupied my time until quite recently.”

“As well as can be expected, my Chancellor. I think it will be another two or three years at the most before we can begin to properly develop cures for cancer. Our stockpile of resources at Constantinople is growing rapidly. We have won a great victory over the Turks, and, within four to five years at the most, we shall defeat cancer forever as well!”

“Now that is good news, Niels. What of the SETI program?”

'That too is progressing well, my Chancellor. We are on schedule to complete the project in about four years. It seems that the fears that we would not have enough tanks to proceed with the Turkish War were unfounded.” The Minister broke off as a serving maid approached, with glasses of Hochrotwein. “May I, my Chancellor?”

“By all means.” The Minister took a glass, though neither the Chancellor nor the Prinz followed suit. “Do not be concerned about the wine, Niels,” said the Chancellor at the look on his aide's face, “Helmut and I would be quite drunk indeed by now if we took a drink of wine every time one of the Ministers or other important people came by the Palace tonight.” He waved towards the celebration in the distance. “The German people have waited for this day for a very long time.”

“The entire Empire has waited for this day, Father,” put in Prinz Helmut. Another serving maid came by, this time with glasses of lemonade, and both the Chancellor and the Prinz took a glass. “Minister, have you given any thought to what will happen once the Empire has cured cancer?”

“It is but speculation, of course, Prinz Helmut,” replied the Minister after taking a sip of his wine. “There are quite a few areas of interest to examine in detail. I think our next priority should be developing the space program. Dr. von Gruner has already drawn up the precise details of what will be required. He believes that it may well be possible for the Empire to send a man to the Moon within the next ten to fifteen years.”

“I expect, Helmut, that you will have to make that decision in due time,” said the Chancellor. “It is hard for me to believe that a journey to the moon is actually possible. I can remember a time when steam engines were but a fantastic dream.”

“I for one rather like the idea, Father,” replied Prinz Helmut after taking a drink of his lemonade. “Who knows what the Empire can accomplish, now that we need not be concerned about the evil Turks? Perhaps I can even work that into my inauguration speech in four years time.”

“A splendid idea, Helmut. We all need goals to work and strive for. Even the conquered Turkish people will see the benefits of such a plan.”

“And, my Chancellor,” put in the Science Minister, “they will see the benefits of a world where the terrible scourge of cancer is but a distant, evil memory.”

“Now that, Niels, is another goal worth pursuing.” The Chancellor held out his glass, and both Prinz Helmut and the Science Minister followed suit. “A toast, then. To the end of cancer!”

“To the end of cancer!” chimed in the others as all three clinked glasses.

 

[MTB4884]

April 5, 920 AD

Grand Ballroom, Imperial Palace
Berlin, Germany
1:30 a.m.

Chancellor Otto von Bismarck limped his way to the podium, with the aid of his ivory cane. “Good evening, everyone, or perhaps I should say good morning!” Even this mild jest drew cheers from the Palace staff. “I do not wish to detain you long. Instead, I wish to give my profound thanks to you for your service, particularly during the years of the Turkish War. Your work, in areas largely unsung and unheralded, has been most helpful to me personally during this difficult time. The party here in the Grand Ballroom shall continue until 8:00 a.m.” Again cheers broke out from the staff.

“Sadly, I must get some sleep, as the hour is quite late. After all, I am not as young as I was when I first took office as Chancellor more than forty years ago.” A small titter of polite laughter could be heard before he continued, “As a small token of my esteem, I will state that all of you shall be given three days paid furlough.” This time the cheers of the staff were the loudest yet. “Thank you all and good night!” The Chancellor gave a short gesture to Kapelmeister Schneider, who started the Palace orchestra in the familiar strains of the “Blue Danube Waltz”.

“Very nice, Father,” said Prinz Helmut as his father limped away from the podium. “I was thinking that perhaps we should institute April 4th as a national holiday, to commemorate the final defeat of the Turks.”

“A good idea, Helmut. I would prefer to think of it, however, as the birthday of a true global German Empire.” The Chancellor yawned as the two men approached the open doors of the elevator. “I trust you will keep an eye on the party for me?”

“Most certainly, Father. Good night.”

“Good night, son.” The Chancellor stepped into the elevator. “Third floor, please.”

“Yes, my Chancellor,” replied the operator, and the doors smoothly and silently slid shut. “I did make one mistake in my speech just now,” mused the Chancellor aloud. “I should have announced holiday pay for those staffers who still had to perform their usual duties.”

“If I may be so bold, my Chancellor,” said the operator, “I will be most pleased to suggest that to the chamberlain on your behalf.”

“No need, Wilhelm. I will tell him myself in the morning, or more precisely in a few hours.” The elevators opened, with a slight chime, upon the familiar halls of the third floor of the Palace. “Good night, Wilhelm.”

“Good night, my Chancellor.” The Chancellor walked down the hall to the door of his private chambers, where two Guardsmen stood watch. “Kurt, Xaver, I am sorry that you did not get the chance to participate in the party downstairs.”

“Begging your pardon, my Chancellor,” said Xaver, “but Kurt and I only came on duty at 1:00. We were both at the party for several hours before that.” Guardsman Kurt nodded in agreement. “That is so, my Chancellor.”

“I suppose I should have realized that, gentlemen. Good night.”

“Good night, my Chancellor,” they replied as the Chancellor entered his bedroom. He was very tired, as so it was not long before he dropped off to sleep.

The Chancellor awoke in a strange, yet oddly familiar setting. Instead of the ornate furnishings of his bedroom in the Imperial Palace, he found himself standing on clouds, solid enough to walk on under his feet. He saw the figure of his late wife Eva, wearing a white robe on top of a short staircase some twenty meters away. As he rushed towards her he noticed that Eva looked as she had decades earlier when he had first met and loved her, instead of wracked with the pain of her disease as she had been when he had last seen her alive.

They quickly embraced at the top of the stairs. This moment could scarcely be better, even if this is but a dream! The Chancellor pulled away slightly, expecting to wake up once again to a cold and empty bedroom, as he had done each morning for far too long.

“What is it, Otto?”

“I am sorry, Eva. This cannot be. You have been dead for five years now, and I will wake up from this dream at any moment.”

The smile she gave him would have melted almost any man. “There is no fear of that now, Otto. Have you not realized yet?” A wild hope rose within him as she continued, “You see, Otto, you will not 'wake up' this time. You are now as dead, as it was known back on Earth, as I.”

“Then, is this...”

“Heaven, Otto? Indeed it is, or rather Heaven's outer antechamber.”

“But..the Empire? What will happen to Germany now?”

She smiled in that charming way he had known and loved for decades. “Helmut will assume the title and duties of Chancellor a few years early. You have trained him as well as any man could. Besides, what enemies does the Empire have left to fight, now that the last of the Turks are defeated?” She beckoned to the stairway, which seemed to be built out of clouds, with a golden door at the end. A dazzling, unearthly light seemed to shine all around it. “Now we must go. Beyond that door we shall find our final, eternal destiny.”

“Yes, dear.” Eva and the Chancellor walked to the door at the top of the golden stairway, as a magnificent vista of light encompassed them both. “Otto, this will be the true beginning of the rest of our lives together, forever.”

 

[MTB4884]

April 5, 920 AD

Chancellor's Study, Imperial Palace
Berlin, Germany
8:20 a.m.

“The Domestic and Military Ministers are here, Prinz Helmut.”

The Prinz stood silently for several moments. “Very well, Gunter. Send them in, please.” Seconds later both Ministers entered the study, and stopped cold at the expressions of those already in the room.. “Has something happened, Prinz Helmut?” finally asked the Military Minister.

“Yes, Minister von Landsheid.” The Prinz sat down abruptly behind the desk. “Father...passed away early this morning. Dr. Kneibel believes it was most likely due to a heart attack. ”

“We grieve for him, Prinz Helmut,” replied the Domestic Minister sadly. “Still, we have known that Chancellor Otto was in frail health for quite some time. We can implement the necessary protocols and procedures immediately.”

“And just what does that mean, if I may ask, Minister?”

“We shall make a public announcement of Chancellor Otto's death immediately, and make the necessary arrangements for you, Prinz Helmut, to be confirmed as your father's successor.” The Minister looked at the wall clock. “I recommend that this be done at the Berlin Colosseum on the 8th, after the traditional three days of mourning.”

“All right, Minister. Please proceed as you have said, and thank you for coming in to the Palace so quickly. Dismissed.” The Domestic Minister took his leave, while the Prinz turned his attention to his other official visitor. “Minister, what effect will Father's death have on the Turks?”

“None, Prinz Helmut,” replied the Military Minister with confidence. “We have already won the Turkish War, as Chancellor Otto publicly announced yesterday. I do not have Axel's experience, of course, but I have no doubt that the German people will support you as you succeed your father.”

“I didn't even think to ask Minister von Folich about that,” mused Prinz Helmut.

“If I may say so, Prinz Helmut, you have had a good deal else to consider,” replied the Military Minister. “Axel knows his field most thoroughly, and all will be efficiently taken care of.”

“The Minister is quite right, Father,” piped up Prinz Franz.

“Very well, Minister. I will ask you to return to the Military Ministry and monitor the situation closely. I fear that the holiday Father offered you will have to be postponed.”

“That is quite understandable, under the circumstances, Prinz Helmut. I will gladly wait until the 8th, once you have been properly confirmed as Chancellor to succeed your father.”

“Very well, then, Minister. I appreciate your patience in this difficult time. Again, thank you for coming in at such an hour.”

“It is my pleasure, my Chancellor. I will report immediately if anything important comes in.” With that the Military Minister took his leave, and a solemn silence ensued, which was finally broken by Prinz Franz. “What shall we do now, Father?”

“A good question, Franz. First, we will need to go over the various projects I am working on. You will have to succeed me, just as I will succeed Father as Chancellor. I fear that your life will also become more complex.”

“I am ready, Father, and I will gladly help however I can.” The young Prinz paused, and then continued, "I really thought all this would happen in four years time, once Grandfather retired as Chancellor."

“That is what I expected as well, Franz. Still, the Empire expects us to do our duty, whatever our personal circumstances might be."

"Yes, Father."

 

[MTB4884]

OOS: There is a time and a season for everything under the sun, and this is the time to conclude "Blood and Iron." I just wanted to take this opportunity to thank all the many readers of "Blood and Iron" out there in CFC land. I never expected when I began writing in May 2011 that the story would take on such a life of its own, or that it would attract over 150k views. It has been my privilege to stand on the shoulders of such giants as Vanadorn and daftpanzer, and I hope that my own humble efforts will continue to inspire new authors in the forums.

***

April 8, 920 AD

Berlin Colosseum
Berlin, Germany
Noon

“Everything is ready, Father,” reported Prinz Franz.

“Excellent. Then let us proceed.” You can do this, Helmut! He walked out onto the temporary stage, with his son Franz a pace behind, while the cheers of the capacity crowd resounded throughout the Colosseum. Grosbruckner Horst was waiting with a massive leather Bible in hand. “Helmut von Bismarck, do you solemnly swear, before God and country, that you will faithfully execute the office of Chancellor and defend Germany against all her enemies, foreign and domestic?”

“I do.”

“Then, by the power vested in me by the free people of Germany, I hereby confirm you as Chancellor of Imperial Germany. Congratulations, my Chancellor!” The two men shook hands, before the new Chancellor turned to the podium.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. It is customary upon such occasions as this for a new Chancellor to give a few remarks concerning the state of the Empire, and today shall be no exception. My only regret is that this ceremony did not take place four years from now, with my beloved father watching in approval.”

“First, let me assure you all that my beloved father's sudden death will not signal, in the main, any significant immediate changes in government policy. He often quoted the ancient Saxony proverb, “Do not fix it if it is not broken!', and I agree wholeheartedly with his philosophy on this occasion.

“It was only four days ago that my father publicly announced the end of the second and final Turkish War.” The crowd cheered at this, until the Chancellor waved them into silence. “I hereby confirm that I shall follow in his footsteps in extending the hand of mercy, to the extent reasonably possible, to the defeated Turkish people. The relatively few prisoners who have been accused of particular crimes against the Empire shall face appropriate justice at Nuremberg beginning in July.”

“The question has been raised, even as all the Empire celebrates the end of the Turkish War, as to what the Empire will do now that peace has returned to the world. I shall now answer it. First, we shall work, with the able assistance of Minister von Folich and the Domestic Ministry, to integrate the former Turkish lands into useful and productive provinces of the Empire.”

“Until today we have fought against grave and dangerous enemies from without, capable of endangering us all. Today no such enemies exist! Today, the rule of the Empire stretches from sea to sea and spans the globe!” Again the crowd cheered their leader until he waved them into silence.

“An Empire, much like a man, needs goals and aspirations to work and strive for. And so, I shall direct the scientists and scholars of the Empire to continue their research into the mysterious field of Genetics. Science Minister von Bohr tells me that this work will soon grant us the ability to defeat the terrible scourge of cancer which has stalked all mankind since time immemorial. Today I vow that, within four years, I shall stand in this very place and publicly confirm that a cure for cancer has been discovered!” Once more the great crowd cheered at their leader's words.

“We shall work as a people on another great project, once we have defeated cancer forever. Minister von Bohr also tells me that it will soon be possible to launch great rockets with sufficient power to put a man on the Moon. I announce today that we shall proceed to do so within the next twelve years. This work will require much effort and sacrifice. We as a people shall bring the same determination and tenacity in the war against cancer and in the development of space travel as we have long done in battle against other enemies and foes of the Empire. We shall meet and overcome these challenges, as we have overcome all other enemies who once opposed us in war.”

“Thank you all and God bless Germany!”

 

[GreyCIV]

MTB4884, let me be the first then to thank you for keeping this story going all these years.
I greatly enjoyed it throughout it's duration, and always eagerly awaited new updates.
But all things must come to an end eventually..

Thank you, and i wish you all the best.

Grey

 

[MTB4884]

OOS: Thanks, GreyCIV!

I do expect that I'll eventually be able to add a few maps and screenshots to "Blood and Iron" as time and my slow computer connection allow. I've also given some thought to writing a sequel, though I will need some time off to deal with a few RL matters before I can attempt it. I want to make sure I have the ending largely worked out, since it is frustrating to begin a story only to see it peter out without a proper resolution. Thanks again to you and all the readers of "Blood and Iron" over the years!

Sincerely,


MTB4884

 

[tR1cKy]

Good job, man. A good story that you carried over until its end. There are too many of them that have been left unfinished, and this leaves the reader with a sense of disappointment. Well, not this time I'd say you deserve a spot in the legendary stories thread.

 

[Vanadorn]

One of the joys of returning to Civfanatics is to find stories like this one and read up. I've missed out on some great tales but it was easily resolved by reading your story. And I am honored to find that Vanadorn held firm in your tale, along with their valiant warriors!

Three cheers and well done.

And I don't care that I necro'ed this thread. Deal with it!

-V

 

[MTB4884]

OOS:

Thanks for the kind words, tR1cKy and Vanadorn! Back after a year off to deal with various recalcitrant computers and other RL matters. I'll have to work on fixing the quotation marks in the story over the next few weeks, as well as work on a sequel. The basic idea is there, but still needs a little more development before I can start it.

 

[Captain_Ovious]

I apologize for commenting on a story that has been over for 7 years, but it is absolutely incredible! Your description of even mundane details is fantastic! Thank you for gracing us with this wonderful tale.