slobberinbear
Ursine Skald
Round 4: to 1320 A.D.
"Give 'em hell boys," Dubya said, teeing off from the box of the 11th hole on the Burning J Ranch.
"You may want to stop playing golf during the war to show you're in solidarity with the troops," Rove whispered.
"Good point, Karl. Nothing says that I'm in lockstep with the nation like giving up golf."
"Spanish are counterattacking Atlanta," Petraeus warned.
"Well Dave, push 'em out. Can't have them illegals swarmin' the borders like that."
"Our troops are all engaged in the destruction of Valencia."
"Hey. I'm the Decider here. Get them back over to Atlanta and stop them illegals!"
"They overran Atlanta?" Dubya asked, incredulous.
"Just a temporary battlefield negative outcome," Petraeus intoned.
"Now that we're at war, are we gonna train some soldiers around here?"
"That is the eventual plan, sir, as soon as we finish these monasteries and Freedom Labor Force Involuntary Volunteers ..."
"But .."
"The plan is to infiltrate our kosher operatives into the heart of the Spain, to win the hearts and minds of the Spanish People," Big Dick interrupted.
"So that our overall Shock and Awe attack will overwhelm them," Petraeus agreed.
"Just give those rabbis some armor and a blade, Dave. I don't want them goin' into battle with the illegals with nuthin' but a briss knife."
"We need to learn how to ride horses into battle, sir," Chertoff explained.
"But ... we don't have any horses around here! Unless you count Al's wife ... just kiddin' Al."
"Don't worry about the lack of mounts, Mr. President," Petraeus chimed in. "We're working on an all-longhorn cavalry regiment presently."
"That'll be the finest tasting regiment ever fielded," Big Dick said hungrily.
"Great job on takin' back Atlanta, Dave."
"Thank you Mr. President, but we're now looking at New York."
"Great town. Strong baseball teams."
"The Spanish have ten corps headed there, through the northern jungles."
"Not on my watch! Get some men over there. And Petraeus, I want you personally involved."
"Whooo hooo!" Dubya cheered.
"Yessir, the Spanish have been driven out," the general said.
"Who are you?"
"Powell, sir. Petraeus' replacement here."
"Well get out there and join him. Tell Petraeus it's next stop, Tijuana!"
"Madrid, Mr. President," Rove whispered.
"Whatever."
"So this is good stuff, eh Winnie?"
Churchill nodded silently, filling his pipe.
"Done. We don't need this northern stone anyway."
"Hey! I thought we were pals, Sal!"
"May the crotch of your mother be infested with the fleas of a thousand camels!"
"I think ol' Isabella will be singin' a new tune the next time ol' Georgie comes calling."
"Damn straight," Big Dick agreed.
"Get Dave and Powell over to Chicago. We need those pork rinds!"
"Good news and bad news, Mr. President."
"Gimme the good news, Mikey. Damn," he cursed, landing in the sandtrap near the treacherous 8th green.
"We have retaken Chicago."
"About time. Give the men a full ration of beer and brisket, and send those Spanish honeys over to show 'em a good time."
"The bad news, sir. The Arabian main assault force approaches."
"Give 'em hell boys," Dubya said, teeing off from the box of the 11th hole on the Burning J Ranch.
"You may want to stop playing golf during the war to show you're in solidarity with the troops," Rove whispered.
"Good point, Karl. Nothing says that I'm in lockstep with the nation like giving up golf."


"Spanish are counterattacking Atlanta," Petraeus warned.
"Well Dave, push 'em out. Can't have them illegals swarmin' the borders like that."
"Our troops are all engaged in the destruction of Valencia."
"Hey. I'm the Decider here. Get them back over to Atlanta and stop them illegals!"


"They overran Atlanta?" Dubya asked, incredulous.
"Just a temporary battlefield negative outcome," Petraeus intoned.
"Now that we're at war, are we gonna train some soldiers around here?"
"That is the eventual plan, sir, as soon as we finish these monasteries and Freedom Labor Force Involuntary Volunteers ..."
"But .."
"The plan is to infiltrate our kosher operatives into the heart of the Spain, to win the hearts and minds of the Spanish People," Big Dick interrupted.
"So that our overall Shock and Awe attack will overwhelm them," Petraeus agreed.
"Just give those rabbis some armor and a blade, Dave. I don't want them goin' into battle with the illegals with nuthin' but a briss knife."

"We need to learn how to ride horses into battle, sir," Chertoff explained.
"But ... we don't have any horses around here! Unless you count Al's wife ... just kiddin' Al."
"Don't worry about the lack of mounts, Mr. President," Petraeus chimed in. "We're working on an all-longhorn cavalry regiment presently."
"That'll be the finest tasting regiment ever fielded," Big Dick said hungrily.

"Great job on takin' back Atlanta, Dave."
"Thank you Mr. President, but we're now looking at New York."
"Great town. Strong baseball teams."
"The Spanish have ten corps headed there, through the northern jungles."
"Not on my watch! Get some men over there. And Petraeus, I want you personally involved."


"Whooo hooo!" Dubya cheered.
"Yessir, the Spanish have been driven out," the general said.
"Who are you?"
"Powell, sir. Petraeus' replacement here."
"Well get out there and join him. Tell Petraeus it's next stop, Tijuana!"
"Madrid, Mr. President," Rove whispered.
"Whatever."



Spoiler :
The war started going much better, as all of the cities were building troops per the military advisor, a mix of swords and axes with the occasional spear and archer. I rarely was forced to build a worker or building. I should have warred sooner!
I got two great generals. Petraeus is an uber-swordsman and Powell is a healing axeman (I had no spearmen at the time to make him a spear medic).
After we finished HBR, here were our choices.
Yes, we weren't starting researching writing until 1100 A.D.
I don't think I've ever seen FEWER tech choices so early in the game ... once that finished, I started on Alphabet (it was a tossup between that and sailing, growth and science advisor stuff)
I got two great generals. Petraeus is an uber-swordsman and Powell is a healing axeman (I had no spearmen at the time to make him a spear medic).
After we finished HBR, here were our choices.

Yes, we weren't starting researching writing until 1100 A.D.

"So this is good stuff, eh Winnie?"
Churchill nodded silently, filling his pipe.
"Done. We don't need this northern stone anyway."

"Hey! I thought we were pals, Sal!"
"May the crotch of your mother be infested with the fleas of a thousand camels!"


"I think ol' Isabella will be singin' a new tune the next time ol' Georgie comes calling."
"Damn straight," Big Dick agreed.
"Get Dave and Powell over to Chicago. We need those pork rinds!"
Spoiler :
At this point, I decided in the interest of keeping the game going, that we had punished Spain enough. This is a slight change to the rules, though we had made her submit.

"Good news and bad news, Mr. President."
"Gimme the good news, Mikey. Damn," he cursed, landing in the sandtrap near the treacherous 8th green.
"We have retaken Chicago."
"About time. Give the men a full ration of beer and brisket, and send those Spanish honeys over to show 'em a good time."
"The bad news, sir. The Arabian main assault force approaches."

Spoiler :
Yes, the AI all have most of the medieval war techs on me. *gulp* As the worker force (it was obscenely large now) had been finally chopping and cottaging, the slider was still hovering in the 20% range. The only way I could catch up on techs was to take them as spoils of war, since nobody wanted to trade and my advisors wouldn't build a spy.