blah the Prussian

But thats not the point. The point is that going to this school and staging an arrest is just as much of a waste of time.

Yep, basically this. This incident will, if anything, lead to more resentment of police and authority figures.

Yes, but in real life, disrespect will not get you fucking arrested. It is the responsibility of the school to teach students responsibility, not the responsibility of the police force. I am also curious as to why the quality of parenting is a non factor, as the mother pretty much had cops do her job.

Thanks. Ive noticed, incidentally, that both of my entries are concerned with WWII (even if this one is alternate) and both involve the main character dying.

Well yeah, but the trauma and humiliation of a mock arrest in front of your peers is kind of worse than paying a fine.

Its funny how Dondon has not demonstrated how in any way how Rapier has the inability to produce sense. In addition, how is ambushing drivers or whatever a better use of their time than going to a school and scaring the shit out of some kid?

Yes, but what those police did really wasn't a good use of their time; the generalization does not stand, but it does in this specific case. Thats fair enough, but the American police force is a bit of a laughing stock here in Prague; even the Americans here (including me) find them ineffective compared to the Czech police.

OR they could be stopping real crimes from taking place, and what you described really is a better use of their time because it is their JOB.

Chapter 2 Operation Huangdi As Oswald Mosley sent his ultimatum to Ireland, the Chinese government announced its neutrality. This was a great relief to the Russians, who moved a sizable portion of their armies in the Far East, Siberia, and Central Asia to the European theatre. This was a mistake. There was a great many things that should have risen alarm bells in the Russian high command. Firstly, the French did not issue any protest at the Chinese apparently dishonoring their alliance. Secondly, the Chinese kept a huge amount of troops on the border with Russian Siberia. Despite all this, Russian High Command remained in wishful thinking, transferring more and more troops to Europe. On May 15, 1937, The Empire of China declared war on the Russian Empire and all of its allies. In Manchuria, Chinese forces launched an immediate offensive towards the Russian city of Vladivostok. Meanwhile, Chinese cavalry launched raids into Siberia and Central Asia. The only thing opposing them was Russian militia. The cavalry raided oil supplies in Central Asia, and did damage to the Trans Siberian railway, harming the flow of supplies to the troops in the Russian Far East. These were the first stages of Operation Huangdi, the full scale Chinese invasion of Russia, named after the great Chinese emperor who unified ancient China. The reaction of the Russian high command was chaotic and panicked. Aside from a few border garrisons against Romania, the Polish and Finnish armies would do the fighting for the Russians in Europe. Fortunately for Russia, it was not lacking in competent generals. Pyotr Wrangel was the Prime Minister as well as chief of the army. Serving under him were Marshals Zhukov, Smirnov, Vlassov, and Tukhachevsky. Unfortunately, these Marshals made one key error: assuming that the Russian Far East could be held. The Russian battle plan involved sending cavalry to retake the Trans-Siberian railway. Once this was accomplished, more troops would be sent to the Far East to relieve the embattled garrison of Vladivostok. What this plan ignored was that the Chinese simply had far more troops in the area. However, Chinese general Prince Aisen Goro Pujie did not press the attack on Manchuria, in anticipation of this Russian strategy. He planned to make the Russian Far East a deathtrap, but only after a sufficient number of Russian troops took the bait. Meanwhile, Russia’s ally Japan had not been idle. When news of the Chinese declaration reached Tokyo, the Imperial Japanese navy launched raids against Chinese ports all across the country. At the battle of the Formosa strait (June 5, 1937) the Chinese navy was obliterated by the IJN, the Japanese Aircraft Carriers being used in conjunction with the Zero fighter to great effect by Grand Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto. Meanwhile, a Chinese army under the command of general Chaing Kai Shek invaded the Russian protectorate of Korea on May 20, 1937. While they met initial success, crossing the Yalu River on May 22, the Koreans provided staunch resistance, especially in the mountains in the north. This problem was compounded by the arrival of the Japanese Expeditionary Force, 500,000 strong, under General Hideki Tojo on May 25. Meanwhile, Chinese land in the Pacific was coming under Japanese attack as well. A Japanese army of 100,000 attacked Formosa under General Hayashi Senjuro, while 200,000 more attacked the Philippines under General Tomoyoki Yamashita, both on May 25, 1937. The IJA managed to dislodge the Chinese defenders of Formosa on April 2. The Philippines fell on April 5, the puppet government surrendering to the Japanese. With the fall of the Philippines, the IJN ruled the Pacific. All that was left was to take the Chinese “tributaries” in the Pacific. In Siberia, things were not going as well for the Allies. The Russians had rushed 400,000 men to the defense of Vladivostok alone, facing a Chinese force of 600,000. However, Pujie did not launch his assault on Vladivostok, much to the surprise of the Russians. Instead, the Chinese launched an offensive towards the Pacific Ocean from Northern Manchuria, beginning on June 6. The Pacific was reached by June 15. With that, the entire Russian Army of the Far East (500,000 men, all told) was cut off from the rest of Siberia. Vladivostok was besieged by 600,000 troops, while Chinese cavalry moved North to secure the rest of the Far East. For Russia, it was a disaster. Following this debacle, the Russian High Command had an emergency meeting. Marshal Vlassov was of the opinion that an immediate counter offensive had to be launched to relieve the Vladivostok garrison. Marshals Zhukov and Tukhachevsky, however, argued that Russia did not have sufficient troops to relieve Vladivostok. Zhukov argued for a complete abandonment of Eastern Siberia, using the delay that the Far Eastern Army would cause the Chinese forces to reorganize outside the city of Novosibirsk. Tukhachevsky concurred, pointing out that Russia had ample territory to trade for time. If the Russians met the Chinese outside of Novosibirsk, the Chinese would be at the ends of their supply lines, and the superior Russian organization, morale, and technology would show. Army chief Wrangel and Empress Olga agreed with Zhukov and Tukhachevsky. The Russian armies in Siberia would execute a fighting retreat to Novosibirsk, where they would meet up with the Russian Forces from Europe. The Russian Army of Siberia, under the command of Marshal Anton Denikin, did just that. Whenever the Chinese launched an assault, Denikin would have one division counter that assault. As the Chinese advanced, Russian Cossak cavalry charged their lines whenever they were weakest, further delaying the offensive. This continued until the month of November, when the Russian Siberian Army met up with the East European Army, under Marshal Zhukov, at Novosibirsk. Altogether, the Russian forces numbered 2,000,000 men. Facing them was a Chinese army of 2,400,000 men. The Russians were at the end of the line. The Vladivostok garrison had surrendered in October. If the Russians lost Novosibirsk, the Chinese would have a base from which they could attack into Central Asia, and maybe reach even European Russia. Novosibirsk was the decisive battle of the Siberian Front. The Chinese November Offensive was launched on November 15, 1937. Chinese troops struck to the north and south of Novosibirsk, hoping to encircle the 1,000,000 Russian troops in the city itself. However, Marshal Zhukov had learned from the Vladivostok campaign. His troops used an elastic defense strategy, retreating in the face of Chinese offensives, only to move out of their way and attacking their flanks. The Chinese would then be forced to retreat. By December 1, Pujie could plainly see that his offensive had failed. However, Wang Jingwei demanded that the city be taken before 1938, making Operation Huangdi a complete success. Pujie was forced to go on the attack. On December 2, against his better judgement, Pujie ordered a complete attack into Novosibirsk. However, the winter weather greatly benefitted the defenders. On December 10, Zhukov ordered a counterattack, pushing the Chinese from the city suburbs by December 25. However, Chinese reinforcements brought the Chinese army up to 3,000,000 troops, forcing Zhukov to stop an offensive that would now surely be overwhelmed, digging in in the Novosibirsk suburbs on December 27. The next 4 days passed without incident. And so, Novosibirsk had not proved to be the decisive battle that either the Russians or the Chinese had expected it to be. The Chinese assault into Siberia had been stopped, that much was true. However, the Chinese still remained incredibly strong outside of Novosibirsk, outnumbering the Russians, who were still bringing reinforcements to the region. Winter also proved an insurmountable obstacle for the offensive prospects of both armies. Both China and Russia resolved to suspend all offensive operations until Spring. As 1938 dawned over Siberia, the war was a stalemate. However, the eyes of the world were not focused on Siberia anymore. With Britain embroiled in continental war, Huey Long made his move.

Ah, Charlotte is an interesting name. The most significant one it was used for was the Crown Princess under George IV. Sadly she died in childbirth at the age of 22, leading to a moron named William IV taking power. Fortunately Queen Victoria restored the people's confidence in the monarchy. Lets hope this Charlotte has a better fate.

Fucking really? THIS is what the brave police force of America spends its time on? It would be especially wrong if she fooled the police, but even if they were willing, that's a big waste of time.

I wasn't exactly aware that there was some new form of royal succession that made Charles's succession the "old" way.

What does "by the old way" mean?

I'm generally inclined to agree with you about most of this, except I did not mean literally perfect, I meant that being undemocratic does not lead into being some oppressive totalitarian hellhole. Of course the Monarch should not be above the law; I think in any constitutional monarchy the Monarch should have actual power without being above the law. In general, the ideal role of the monarch should be to prevent some law advocating genocide passed or some shit like that.

So what if its undemocratic? There already is a perfectly democratic system in the UK. I am a firm believer that democracy must be moderated to prevent everything from being fucked up. And admittedly I'm not too well versed on the Falklands War, but wasn't it pretty much entirely Argentina's fault? The main argument against the monarchy really seems to be that its undemocratic, but the institution does not stop democracy from working. I merely believe it should be strengthened to help democracy further.

The question is how do you make it constitutionally required to have some form of discussion with the current monarch? In general, I think it is important to have an apolitical head of state with some form of power. It is a fallacy to assume that those in power will always abuse said power. Look a the US, where we had a government shutdown because one politician put his political agenda ahead of his country! I think that the monarch having some power would work well, as simply having someone in power who is unaffiliated with political parties is generally a good idea if you are interested in compromises.

Thats fair enough. The problem I see is that he'll never have the chance to prove himself as an able monarch, due to the constitutional restrictions placed on him. Thats one of the main things that piss me off about British republicans; their two arguments seem to be "He has too much power! Abolish the monarchy" and "They don't do anything! Abolish the monarchy!" Oh, and I assume royal in recent history, right? I hold Queen Victoria and George VI in the highest regard.

You know, I've never actually gotten this. Why, besides divorcing someone he was forced to marry, do people hate Charles? He seems like a smart enough guy, which is a good trait to have if you're going to be King. I just hope the Brita don't end the monarchy because of him.

FEGELIEN! FEGELIEN! FEGELIEN! In all seriousness, I won't pretend I'm happy this was cancelled, but Thank you for outright stating it, instead of leaving false hope.

Thank you! And it isn't.

Danish Royal family is the shit! Some of my friends might not be alive right now if Christian X didn't do what he did for the Jews during WWII. Incidentally, the Royals can't prevent people from putting up nude pictures or whatever because of free press. As public figures, they can't stop it. Basically, though, the royals are awesome. My sig can probably tell you this, but I wish we Americans had never won the Revolution!

Title: My father's son Fandom: A tie in with my ongoing story in Written Works, A Brief History of the Twentieth Century Words: 2499 [spoiler=Here it is at long last!] November 2, 1939 In an airfield in Essen, Germany, a red Messerschmitt descended towards the ground. It was one among many fighters returning from combat operations that day, but there was something that gave it fame amongst soldiers of the German Empire and infamy with its arch enemy, the French Empire. Its pilot was Rudolf von Richtofen, a pilot in the German air force, and son of the prestigious Manfred von Richtofen, the Red Baron. As the plane glided to the earth, like an eagle returning to its nest, the men on the ground let out a collective cheer. The Barons son had returned! He had whipped the Frogs good! The war was surely won now! In his heart, Rudolf von Richtofen knew that this was stupidity. One man, no matter how powerful, could not win a war. Well, von Richtofen mused, I suppose Guderian is coming reasonably close. Those Panzer strategies are really paying off. Guderian, of course, was a general. Generals won wars. Von Richtofen, high ranking or no, was an airman at heart. Although of noble birth, the squadron leader always flew with the pilots under his command against the planes of the United Kingdom (Germanys other main enemy in the war). Still, he relished the adoration he received from his men. He was the hope of Germany. And today he was having a very bad day. Five hours earlier The red Messerschmitt dodged and weaved through the clouds. Von Richtofen turned his head, desperately trying to locate his opponent: a British Spitfire. Scanning the clouds around him, he saw a quick flash of metal to his left. Banking left, he sent the Messerschmitt into a dive against the enemy. The plane burst from the clouds, machine guns spitting a hail of bullets. Smoke gushed from the Spitfires engine like blood from a wound. Von Richtofen turned away. He had done enough. There was no way the Spitfire was surviving now. A damaged plane was like a lamed animal. Damaging it was the hard part. The responsible thing for an ace like him to do would be to leave the kill for the new blood. Flying just below the clouds, von Richtofen scanned the air for enemy fighters. It is in the air, he mused, where man truly comes closest to his bestial nature; in the cockpit, he has only his own thoughts and the menial task of seeking out the enemy to occupy him. It was much like the situation of the predators of old, with no company but themselves and their desire to kill. Is that so? a voice inquired. Von Richtofen jumped. He checked his radio. That was strange. It was off. Then who, the Baron wondered to himself, had asked that? Just then, von Richtofen spotted what was unquestionably a British Corsair bomber squadron soaring beneath him. Diving towards them, he squeezed down on the trigger, but it was then, in this most critical of moments, that the voice returned. Come on. I asked you a question. Is that so? it inquired, with mild annoyance. Von Richtofen swore with surprise, jerking the plane upwards, the gunfire missing harmlessly. There went his initiative. Who are you? he demanded, checking his radio again, to be sure. Sure enough, it was off. So there had to be someone or something in his plane with him. And yet, there was no response. Von Richtofen was jolted out of his reverie when he felt gunfire rake the side of his plane. Looking to his right, he saw two British Hurricanes flying towards the Messerschmitt. That wasnt good. In any air battle, the outnumbered pilot was as good as dead. Quickly, von Richtofen banked away from the Hurricanes, trying to lose them with his maneuvers. Twisting through the air, the Messerschmitt dodged all the bullets thrown at it by the enemy. Still, the mission had been a failure. Out of the corner of his eye, von Richtofen could see the Corsairs unloading their bombs on a British airfield. Shit, he thought regretfully, that cant have been good for the war effort. Suddenly, it returned. That voice. No, Rudolf. It wasnt. And it was all your fault. How does that make you feel? Finally, Von Richtofen lost his composure. Shut up! he screamed furiously. Shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up! Come now, Rudolf. Is that any way to treat your dear friend? the voice inquired, mockingly. I dont know who the hell you are, but I do know that youre not my friend! responded von Richtofen, noting with some degree of satisfaction that the Hurricanes were gone. They had no doubt abandoned their pursuit after coming to the realization that they ran the risk of being swarmed by enemy fighters if they continued. That gave von Richtofen an idea. Ooh, is that where you work? the voice asked with mock excitement as the Messerschmitt neared the runway. As it continued yammering on about something or another, von Richtofen turned on his radio and contacted air traffic control. As he suspected, the voice stopped. As he got permission to land, von Richtofenaligned his plane with the runway, considering the implications of what had just happened. And that brings us right back to where we started. About thirty minutes later, von Richtofen lay in his cot, going over what he knew. So lets see, he thought to himself, this voice consistently tormented me today during the mission. But what is it? What does it want? It did lead to those Corsairs bombing those airfields. Does it have something against Germany? This is going nowhere. He decided to change tactics. What is it, then? Im not hearing it now, that much is certain. Of course, it could be a product of my mind. I could be stark raving mad! Bah. Well, it went silent when I turned on the radio. Could it be in my plane? He sat bolt upright. Yes, that was it! Just then, a flight officer entered his room. Squadron leader von Richtofen, the officer said, saluting, Air general Hoffman would like to see you and the rest of the squadron leaders in the command tent. Its urgent. Von Richtofen returned the salute, heading for the command tent. He would worry about this later. In the command tent, General Hoffman and the rest of the squadron leaders were seated around a table with a map of the Ruhr (a heavily industrialized region of Germany) at its center. As Von Richtofen entered, Hoffman cleared his throat. Right then, lets not waste any time, he began, the Brits have launched a major aerial offensive against our airbases in the Ruhr. High Command is pretty much in agreement that they aim to achieve total air superiority in the area, so they can bomb the Ruhr with impunity. I dont have to tell you gentlemen that this would be a very bad thing indeed. Von Richtofen and his colleagues nodded gravely. If the enemy was permitted to destroy Germanys biggest industrial area, the whole war could be lost! Now, High Command has come up with a very risky plan to deal with this problem, continued Hoffman. One squadron of fighters will escort five squadrons of bombers as soon as the enemy begins their attack to one target: London. This will hopefully cause the enemy to divert enough fighters to stop the attack on London to enable us to annihilate the enemy in the air above the Ruhr. Here Hoffman paused gravely, as if carefully deciding how he was going to word this next part. I shouldnt have to tell you gentlemen this, but the raid on London is a suicide mission. There is no way one squadron of fighters will be able to beat the massive response the Brits are sure to send. Now, do I have any volunteers? No hands were raised. Von Richtofen was coming to a realization. That realization was not a pleasant one. He really was the one best suited for the job. With his flying skills effectively neutralized by that thing in his plane, the most useful thing he could do was act as bait. Before he even knew what he was doing, von Richtofen got to his feet. General Hoffman, sir, my men and I would be honored to die for the Kaiser. Hoffman rose his eyebrows in surprise. Are you sure about this? We can easily arrange you to be transferred, due to you being you know Von RIchtofen knew perfectly well. As the son of a wealthy nobleman, and a war hero to boot, he really didnt have to do this. He also bristled at the suggestion that he would stoop so low. With all due respect, sir, I am a soldier, not a university student. He replied. This elicited laughs from the assembled squadron leaders. Hoffman nodded his head in ascent. Very well, squadron leader. Just be prepared to go into action the instant our radar detects enemy fighters. Id suggest that you inform your men of their task. The next day, at 6:00 in the morning, sirens blared all across the airfield. The Luftwaffe pilots awoke with a start, and were prepared for battle quickly. They had slept in their uniforms, so as to be better prepared for the decisive battle. Von Richtofen ran out of the barrack, and headed for his squadrons airfield. Looking behind him, he could see the rest of his men doing the same. Hurriedly, he vaulted into his plane, which was first on the runway. As he fastened his seatbelt, he turned on the radio, so as to know when precisely to take off. This was also to stop the voice. Von Richtofen knew that neither himself nor his plane and whatever inhabited it was long for the world. Finally, the voice he was so accustomed to hearing rang through his radio. Pilots, you are cleared to take off. It was more than a clearance. For the men of von Richtofens squadron, it was a death sentence and they knew it after last night. That didnt matter now. What mattered was the outcome of today. The path that von Richtofens squadron and the bombers they were escorting would take to reach London was a treacherous one. Firstly, they could not go over territory occupied by the United Kingdom or its ally, Imperial France. As such, they would fly north, to Wilhelmshaven, and then head over the North Sea to Britain. There was no way they had the fuel to reach London and make the return journey. This really was a suicide mission. As von Richtofens squadron reached soaring altitude, that voice that the airman had grown so accustomed to blared through the cockpit. Back again, eh, Rudolf? the voice enquired, somewhat perversely. Back to fight for an ungrateful nation so that liberals in the future can call you a war criminal? Von Richtofen did not respond. He merely waited for the voice to notice the thing that was fundamentally different about todays flight path. The voice suddenly sounded worried. Wait, it asked nervously, why are we headed north? Thats not where the enemy is! Are you being a coward? Von Richtofen allowed himself this small satisfaction, at least. No, Im being anything but, he replied smugly. The question is: are you a coward. If you arent, you should be perfectly willing to go to London on a suicide mission so that your comrade planes can win. At this the voice lost all composure. Turn around! Turn around! it demanded furiously. Please! Turn around, now! Von Richtofen didnt care. He was busy monitoring his radar screen. He could see a massive amount of British fighters converging on his squadrons position. He nodded with satisfaction. He was doing his job. Looking down, he saw the city of Wilhelmshaven below him, and, further on, the North Sea. He savored his last glimpse of Germany, before radioing the rest of his squad. Over Wilhelmshaven. Turn over to the North Sea. From there, head to London. The voice was getting desperate. It had to do something to survive. As a Hurricane dove towards one of the bombers, it yelled out Youre only doing this because you have a pathetic inferiority complex! Youre worried that youll only ever be in the shadow of your father, so you decided to sacrifice yourself in some hope that youll be remembered as anything ever than your fathers son! Well this changes nothing! Von Richtofen screamed then, the scream of a man who cannot get what he wants. In that moment, he would have liked nothing better than to destroy this damnable voice that had been tormenting him. Instead, he took his anger out on the Hurricane. Bullets tore through the plane without mercy; it was literally shattered in the air, debris flying everywhere. Regaining his composure, Von Richtofen turned on his radio, connecting with all the pilots under his command. All planes, he began, full speed ahead to London. Fuel be damned, I want a few bombs to fall on that FUCKING city before we all go down in flames. Fighters, continue protecting the bombers. With that, he set his Messerschmitt into full throttle, headed towards London. The Spitfires and Hurricanes were a tornado around von Richtofens men, the bullets a never ending hail of death. More and more planes entered the fray. All around von Richtofen, his comrades crashed in flames. Do you see? demanded the voice. Do you see what your pride has wrought? More and more airmen dying, and for what? Your own foolish pride! Please, turn the plane around this instant! Von Richtofen ignored him. And yet, despite all of this, he began to feel increasingly alone. All around him, his squadron, men with whom he had fought, men who it was his responsibility to protect, crashed to the ground in flames. The voice had turned to full on begging now, lying prostrate. And, finally, Rudolf von Richtofen could see looming in the distance the site of his death: London. Big Ben towered into the sky like a spire of doom. And yet, von Richtofen could not rest in peace if he died ignorant of one last thing. He turned on his radio and contacted his airfield, one last time. This is squadron leader von Richtofen. Did we win? he inquired breathlessly. Affirmative, came the reply. Von Richtofen breathed a sigh of relief. He could rest easy now. As he eased his Messerschmitt around, towards the enemy formation against which he had no hope of surviving, the voice blared through his plane. Well? Are you happy now? it demanded furiously. Happy that you finally made your mark? Happy that you can finally be more than your fathers son?. Von Richtofen thought about this for a second. A second was all it took. This was never about me. He stated simply. This was about doing my- our- duty. And we did. And, with that, Rudolf von Richtofen faced his death. If the spoiler is still messed up, could Eclipse please fix it? Again? Sorry if my technological ignorance is causing hassle.

Yeah, MSNBC is extremely biased. It's not as biased as Fox News, however. Man, living in Europe makes me feel like I don't actually have to care about morons like Bill O'rielly. It's awesome.

Well, hey, it's Fox News. Of course they're going to be biased as fuck. I think that part of why Americans watch it is that they want to watch a news program that agrees with them.