by Max Barry

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Pax Britannia RMB

WA Delegate: The Jagiellonian Union of Commonwealth States of Britania (elected )

Founder: The Figurehead Monarch of British Independence League Founder

Last WA Update:

Board Activity History Admin Rank

Most World Assembly Endorsements: 122nd Largest Black Market: 341st Most Influential: 489th+34
Most Nations: 519th Largest Information Technology Sector: 633rd Most Scientifically Advanced: 683rd Smartest Citizens: 913th Most Advanced Defense Forces: 915th Most Cultured: 936th Most Advanced Public Transport: 978th Most Avoided: 985th Highest Average Incomes: 1,001st Highest Poor Incomes: 1,009th Highest Economic Output: 1,058th Most Corrupt Governments: 1,119th Most Subsidized Industry: 1,180th Largest Governments: 1,229th Most Advanced Public Education: 1,259th Most Extensive Public Healthcare: 1,291st Lowest Crime Rates: 1,356th Most Inclusive: 1,356th Highest Wealthy Incomes: 1,402nd Largest Manufacturing Sector: 1,553rd Largest Publishing Industry: 1,565th Most Secular: 1,601st Largest Arms Manufacturing Sector: 1,612th Largest Retail Industry: 1,791st Largest Welfare Programs: 1,838th Largest Mining Sector: 1,946th Rudest Citizens: 1,969th Healthiest Citizens: 1,973rd Most Eco-Friendly Governments: 2,078th Most Developed: 2,106th Greatest Rich-Poor Divides: 2,362nd Most Beautiful Environments: 2,411th Most Advanced Law Enforcement: 2,484th Fattest Citizens: 2,502nd
World Factbook Entry

~ W E L C O M E ~ T O ~ P A X ~ B R I T A N N I A ~

Welcome, fellow nations, to Pax Britannia! If role-play (amongst other tomfoolery) is your thing, then this is the place to be! The Sun Never Sets on Pax Britannia!

Regional Motto: Ex Est cinerem, ad astra

LinkMaybe try our regional Discord? LinkOr even play on our regional Steam group?

Endorse our glorious Prince Regent Commonwealth States of Britania! Max endorsements allowed for all other nations is five.

Regional Month/Year: December 1958 [Updated 1/5/2021] (2 OOC Weeks = 1 IC Year)

Check out our collection of awesome Polandball comics! Maybe even try and make some yourself!

The Most Ancient and Most Noble Imperial Order of Pax Britannia


Embassies: The Western Isles, British Isles, The Reich, Ultimum Terrae, POLATION, The Erviadus Galaxy, Nova Historiae, The Commonwealth of Crowns, Albion, Eastern Roman Empire, St Abbaddon, The Universal Order of Nations, Australia, British Empire, The Exalted Lands, Independent Order, and 27 others.Elparia, The British Empire, Xenox, The Galactic Imperium, The Alterran Republic, Farkasfalka, Barbaria, Union of Nationalists, The Bar on the corner of every region, Hollow Point, United States of America, Indian Mars, Monarchist and Democratic Alliance, Japan, Realm of the Whispering Winds, Despotic Europe, The Allied Republic, The Illuminati, The Monarchy alliance, Iron Front, Greater Middle East, The Alliance of Dictators, Ersetum, Sonowae, Coalition of Crown Albatross, The Global Union Consortium, and Global Union Consortium.

Tags: Anarchist, Anti-Capitalist, Anti-Communist, Anti-Fascist, Capitalist, Casual, Communist, Conservative, Democratic, Featured, Free Trade, General Assembly, and 19 others.Imperialist, Independent, Industrial, Isolationist, Liberal, Libertarian, Map, Medium, Monarchist, Neutral, Regional Government, Role Player, Serious, Social, Socialist, Steampunk, Theocratic, Totalitarian, and World Assembly.

Regional Power: Moderate

Pax Britannia contains 37 nations, the 519th most in the world.

Today's World Census Report

The Greatest Rich-Poor Divides in Pax Britannia

Nations ranked highly have large gaps between the incomes of rich and poor citizens. Nations low on the list have high levels of income equality.

As a region, Pax Britannia is ranked 2,362nd in the world for Greatest Rich-Poor Divides.

NationWA CategoryMotto
1.The Trustworthy Corporate Hydra of VelstadoAnarchy“A gun in every hand, A tank in Every garage”
2.The Sultanate of British TurkeyCapitalist Paradise“What goes around, comes around”
3.The Free Land of CharthoodRight-wing Utopia“Unity, Discipline, Work”
4.The Kingdom of The Panem PeninsularIron Fist Consumerists“We Are Stronger Together”
5.The Ma and Pa Business of Militareis Sans FrontieresCapitalist Paradise“No Just Cause”
6.The Empire of Sovereign GermaniaCorporate Police State“Gott Mit Uns”
7.The High Imperium of LetteronCorporate Police State“Patria Et Victoria”
8.The Republic of The Grand Peruvian StateNew York Times Democracy“Somos Libres, Para Siempre”
9.The Teyrnir of TithalisInoffensive Centrist Democracy“Kostagon Jaes iōragon rȳ ao se ōdrikagon”
10.The Gravonist State of Finland of ArrstotzkaFather Knows Best State“Deus Noster, Protectoris Nostri”

Regional Happenings


Pax Britannia Regional Message Board

Memoirs of a Second Great War Soldier

Who are you? Howd you find my name? You a cop...? Oh. Well Alright. So long as you dont use my name then... In that case, where to start... I guess either Warsaw or Riga. Riga? Alright then. Yeah, I flew with the White Airforce under a fake name, times were desperate and the Finns wanted just about anyone that could fly behind a stick, anyone who wasnt holding a gun already or turning wrenches in the factories. Their entire nation was mobilized for conflict in a way my home country aint ben in a while. People forget what thats like, rations, blackout curtains, bombing raids, jackbooted thugs on the street corner... Aint right. I learned my trade flying for the Union and fighting for Pershing on the patomic, a war refugee from New England who wanted to get a bit back at his enemies. Learned to fly during the liberation of West Virginia and got shot down over Kentucky near the end of it all, during the last great pushes. Well I had the good fortune of getting picked up by some funny jabberin fellas from Finland, fixed up my arm, put some vodka in my stomach, and helped me out. It was about then I learned how much alike we and they are.

Skip on to the end of the war and them boys went on home, and I got to rebuilding my own life. Wasnt much of home to speak of when I got there, but it was mine, and it was free thanks in part to my friends from abroad. Pickin up the pieces wasnt easy, ma was sick and all, but you know, a man has to persevere or he'll just die. I had myself a good little gig going for me when the second great war broke out, sweetheart wife, two little tykes, and a few acers south of Boston all my own. It was a good livin. But I heard about how the Finns were gettin plastered by Kraut planes daily, victory after german victory. I couldnt just sit there and enjoy myself while people who'd helped me had their homes destroyed like mine. Thats why I said goodbye to the Missus and kissed my kids before hoppin over the pond and joinin up with the White air force. Took a minute to dust off the wings but you know, its like ridin a bike, cant forget somethin like that.

I made it to the front with a unit called the No.909 fighter escort and destruction squadron. Right as Warsaw fell, but you wanted to hear about Riga... Damn hold on, my memory comes and goes sometimes... Right, it was... It was the 002 squadron I was with, flying one of their newer messhershmitts... Anyway so the germans had been kicking the Ruskies around and were on the approaches to Riga, the last major polish holdout before Russia proper. Them Pollocks were getting hammered, first Warsaw, then Krakow, and now a drive to the sea. You wouldn't have believed it, trenches for as far as you could see, a hell of pockmarks and unmistakable columns of dejected young men running back for miles as they streamed into the city.

There wasnt much the allied nations could do as the germans smashed their way into Ukraine and encircled a half million russians on the Boris line, back then the situation seemed so dire... so uncontrollable... All we could do was drop our payloads and return for more. The shattered polish forces couldnt do much more than be a speed bump for the german panzer armies as they rolled over everything before them. We got almost no sleep and our airframes were strained to the maximum, we were flying sorties as quickly as our planes could be rearmed. We were under no illusions that once the germans reached Riga the jig was up, so we understood we had to make them pay for every inch they advanced. I cant personally remember how many times I dove on some poor group of bastard infantrymen, or loosed rockets on some supply column or dropped bombs on a lone barrel out in the open... they all just blur into one continuous combat mission that played out over the course of weeks.

Then the siege began in earnest, and damned if it wasnt the fasted siege you ever saw. The germans breached those miles of trenches as quickly as they could be dug, and were only stopped via a combination of desperate defence from the polish street to street and house to house and a never ending stream of bombing sorties from the white airforce. But by then our squadron was facing as many losses from mechanical failure and simple sleep deprivation as fire from the enemy. Seasoned pilots were making dumbass mistakes youd expect from a cadet flyer on his first solo flight. Messing up landings, even im guilty of that, or losing track of their fuel. More than once I bombed a target and dove on another target without realizing id already loosed my munitions. In the end we could only watch as Riga, the bastion on the sea, fell to the germans. Our squadron was utterly devastated by the fighting, only a handful of pilots were even still alive at the end of the campaign and what for? We hadnt managed to keep the germans out, and most of our friends were dead.

High command gave the survivors medals, and let us rest for a few weeks. Then we got folded into a new unit and sent back to the front just in time for Carsongrad to fall. That was when the action really picked up.

-Name Unknown, Finnish Flying Ace describing his actions during the Fall of Riga in the Second Great War

April 2nd, 1929

Dear diary,

I should wonder, the reasons mother sought to gift this collection of papers and leather to me. But it is a gift, and given of a heart full of love and expectations. As such I shall treat it with respect and endeavor to follow her instruction. Today marks my thirteenth year in the lord's world, and mother has given to me this dairy with the intent to help me with my calligraphy and transcription. Perhaps this is even true, however I cannot for the life of me understand the usefulness of this instrument in my every day life. Mother insists I take it to school with me and I shall, at least for a while, merely to keep her happy.

What will the other students think if they see me ferreting away a black leather book along with my other school items? The next term starts In a week's time, and I shudder at what the other girls might think of my apparent secretiveness. But then, perhaps it should appear to them that I am sophisticated, perhaps, just maybe, a boy might be intrigued by the mystery of it! A hopelessly optimistic view, but its a hope none the less. The Wiederitzsch public school isnt a highly regarded institution, but its all I have, until I can marry and move to Berlin with a dashing husband. A place where the sun is always bright and the future always welcoming.

However, between Father's work in the government office and mother volunteering as the town's modest Librarian, I deeply fear I may never see the outside of Leipzig! How is a woman to grow, to find a home, if she is shackled to such lowly beginnings? My eldest Brother, Dear Heinz, found his calling teaching abroad. A life of adventure, seeing the glimmering lights of New York, London, Paris, Willow Woods, the greatest cities of all, and Heinz has been to them! Were it not for his constant stream of letters and novelty gifts I'd think him on another world entirely. Older Brother Henrik is something else though. Hes almost done with school, but he and father get into loud fights and he calls him many names before storming off. Im never quite sure what they are about, but I always wish they would find a way to stop fighting. There was no reason to be angry, not with your loved ones. And though father might disagree, I loved both my brothers as deeply as a sister could.

Maybe this dairy will be a good thing after all? I'll have to sleep on it, and recollect my thoughts in the morning. Until then I bide you farewell, Dairy.

~ Minna Ann Metzger

Usf presidium

Cordial Reassurances Through a Bitter Winter

Following a lengthy period of mixed and polarized reactions, chaos in the Presidium would briefly subside in recent days. As though ordering a calamitous household to composure, President Grigori Monikov worked to address all painfully punctuated concerns regarding most recent developments in China. In the immediate wake of the apparent coup against the highly controversial Li Xiannian, total bedlam gripped the highest halls of Willow Woods. With members of the Politburo nearly going for each other's throats out of disagreement for how the address the situation, the mood was best defined by a brief exchange in which Spectre Director Ivan Serov called for an immediate intervention to place Li back in power, which ended with him calling for the arrest of Foreign Minister Oleg Bakhunin following the latter's expressing of acceptance for the change. Highlighting the seeming canyon of differences between Serov and Monikov, the President would express favor for the Foreign Minister's stance, however this would only be apparent after some assurance from Beijing of newly-inaugurated President Chen Yi's desire to maintain a remotely revolutionary doctrine, as well as close ties with the Federation.

The brief calm instilled by the President appeared tailored to that of a host expecting a guest, and quite the guest did Willow Woods receive! As a sign of goodwill and continued harmony between the USF and China, the Presidium welcomed new Chinese Prime Minister Yun Posun, who met personally with President Monikov before speaking before all Presidium members.

Speaking to the 15th Supreme Soviet, all were present for the Prime Minister's speech except for, of course, Ivan Serov and tens of members of the so-called "Ultravisionary" wing of the Carsonist Party, who are rumored to have expressed private outrage at President Monikov's willingness to cooperate with the new Chinese authorities. Applauded with a standing ovation, Yun's remarks of continued prosperity in a revolutionary cause that two great nations can share going forward were widely cherished, with the moderate wing of the Party looking fondly upon the idea of a new reformedly socialist page for China following the near slippage into Li Xiannian's hardliner philosophy of Zhuti which divided Willow Woods tremendously and even made President Monikov himself uneasy.

Delivering a follow-up, Foreign Minister Bakhunin spoke proudly of his hopes for the reinvigorating of existing programs of cultural exchange between Russia and China. Tuning in to the current season's topics, Bakhunin announced that with the impending Winter, Soviet citizens across the Federation would be advised, educated, and assisted by their local Culture Commissar in ways to observe the Chinese tradition of the wintertime Plum Blossom Festival! This Chinese tradition symbolizes endurance and steadfastness, which President Monikov himself has likened to the nature of the unwavering modern friendship between Willow Woods and Beijing. Involving the beautiful usage of actual namesake flower, the cities of the Motherland are expected to soon be abloom with plum blossoms of unyielding friendship!

May 31st, 1929

My Dearest Diary,

How glad I am for your company. I feel as though, in these many long nights, that you are perhaps alone in your singular understanding of me. It was difficult at first, Ill admit to you, bringing such unnecessary baggage to school with me at first. But having moved past that initial fear I've discovered a certain warmth, perhaps even comfort, in your presence with me. It makes up for the many times I am unable to steal away enough time to properly record my daily happenings. As though I carry with me a good friend, someone who shares my vision, my secrets, my fears. It is without judgement I can tell you such things, and I cannot state accurately how freeing it is. School has finished now for the summer respite, in two months time I will officially graduate to the higher learning classes, a higher level of work, and I fear I may be unable to keep up with the state of this diary going into the future.

Im worried, Diary, what if I cannot accomplish my studies, as Henrik before me? I do not want to be a lout who cannot give her best to Germany. The very notion is terrifying, What dishonor would a disgraced daughter bring Mother and Father? I could never live with myself, being responsible for something that horrible. Resolved, I find myself determined, against my fear to give my all to my schooling. I swear to you first of all, Diary, and to myself, that much.

Walter spoke to me again today. He invited me to his family farm just north, to fish along the banks of the Schladitzer Lake. He's a charming boy, taken of a bold nature and unbelievably shy when speaking to me. We first conversed many weeks ago during school when he required supplies such as parchment and pencils. He offered to draw me the setting sun in exchange for the simple crafts and made good on it not a day later. It was simply breathtaking to behold. The rugged sketch held inside it a heartfelt enthusiasm that seeped into my very body through my fingers as I held it. I couldnt comprehend how someone could possess such talent. We began a regular correspondence from then on, and he has shown me on some occasions, how he is able to craft such masterful art.

I find myself very much looking forward to such leisurely activities as fishing, though mother has cautioned me against the dangers boys present, I cannot properly heed her warnings. For when I envision his smile and genuine expressions I feel naught but a flustered excitement. What this feeling is, I haven't an idea, but if my heart is to lead me down this path, I shall follow it gratefully.

Henrik and Father had another fight, but this time it was different. The names normally shouted back and forth were absent, in their place the muffled sounds of disappointment and desperation. I found out today that Henrik has joined the army. I dont know what that means for him, but my heart swells with pride that my brother has chosen to serve the great German nation. Which conflicts deeply with the sorrow I hear from Mother, or the passionate anger from Father. I dont want Henrik to die, but I know this is what he wants, and if this is the way he feels is the best way to serve our nation and honor our family, I can no nothing but hug him tight and wish him the best. Besides, no one is shooting at anyone, and from what Henrik boosts, he'll be growing fat and happy with nothing to do soon enough.

~ M.A. Metzger


The Consortium is planning a move to Global Union Consortium. Whilst not strictly decided, it would be best for embassies to also be established there as well, to ensure a seamless transfer should it be required. Should it not be, the region will likely be deleted, so you don't need to worry about clutter.

Thank you for your support!

KC / Novum Orientis
Founder & Delegate


((Hello there! I'm the guy who ran Draku and Thornmark way back before the timeline reset.

Been a really, really long time since I've been back here, but I have returned to take leadership of Germany from Corsicinot. Sovereign Germania will be the account I post through.
I look forward to returning to making posts, and sorry if they're not the best written at first. Still gettin back into the swing of things.

Opening posts of what's happening in Germany will be coming soon!))

Magdeburg, Corsicinot
May 10th, 1958. 0912 Local Time

“‘Reverend and dear sir, I beseech you to hear my confession, and to pronounce forgiveness to me for God's sake’” recites the woman sitting on the other side of the confessional screen. What light penetrated the small windows to the outside world cast shadows upon what little of her face was visible, the shade accenting her grim expression. “Please, my child,” responded the pastor in the stall on the other side of the screen. “We have done this time and time again. There is no need for such formalities and orthodoxy with me, though I do accept the respect you are imparting on me with such words of tradition.” A thin, gentle smile is on the pastor’s wrinkled face as he continues. “I know what actions you will soon take that have lead you to this moment on this day. I should know, I had my hand in them myself.” He pauses, looking upwards. “Though I will hear you nonetheless. It is not really me you are confessing to, but rather to God through me, after all. Proceed, my daughter.”

The chest of the woman slowly rises and falls as she takes a deep breath, the polished metal buttons of her grey uniform momentarily sparkling in the rays of light seeping in. “Father, forgive me of not only the sins I have committed, but of the sins I am about to commit upon others.” She pauses, considering her words. “Lives will be lost, and suffering will be committed. I am to commit acts of vengeance, and the sin of Wrath will surely stain my soul. But…” She straightens her posture, the light shining across her eyes beneath the brim of her helmet, a fire of determination sparking in those light blue irises. “What I do, I do out of love for my country, and for the honor of my family. My enemies are not just my own, but a threat to the once great nation of Germany, who sully the name of Our Lord, God Almighty with each proclamation they make in His divine name.” The spark of determination in her eyes turned into a flame as her voice started to shake with emotion. The pastor raised and placed his hand up against the simple wooden screen separating the two, calm and peace seemingly emanating from him. The woman, exhaling, places her hand opposite of his on her side of the screen, seeming to relax a bit.

“Apologies, Father… My passions are getting the better of me,” she says. The pastor chuckles softly, slowly shaking his head. “There is no need, my child. You have your grandmother’s fire in your veins. Not even I could do much to temper those flames when she got so enthralled, and I spent 16 years as her son…” He slowly falls silent, his gentle features shifting from a smile to a sorrowful expression.

“Fifty-two year… fifty-two long years it’s been since she was taken from this earthly realm to the kingdom of heaven. And yet I can still remember it so clearly.” The man closes his eyes, memories of events so long ago filling his conscious mind. “The doors being kicked in, the gunfire of the Royal Guards fighting off the Aplotzkii’s goons in the distance while I was rushed through the corridors to the Royal Armory. A hail of gunfire, bullets passing by my head and striking my arm as I got to the makeshift barricade. My brothers manned the lines with the Royal Guards. Wilhelm, Eitel, Adalbert, August, Oskar, princes all of them. Those who lived outside of the Imperial Palace had been forced to flee their own homes in the initial days of the coup. I was too wounded to fight, even though I begged to be allowed to. They devised a plan to get me and my sister, Viktoria, to safety, with me dressed as a Royal Guard. We slipped out of the armory with a handful of Royal Guards just in time, for not a moment later the barricade was breached. Frantic gunfire, the sounds of my brothers dying echoing to us down the corridors as we fled. I heard the screams of my mother as her sons died before her, then the screams were silenced by rifle fire. Soon, all that echoed down the halls were the last words of my father, Kaiser Wilhelm himself: ‘I’d rather die defending the honor of Germany than live having handed it over to the devil himself!’ Followed by a pair of pistol shots from what I can only assume was his revolver, to which the response was him being gunned down like a dog. The Aplotzkiis soon pursued us. Viktoria’s white nightgown so quickly drew their fire in the darkness… Only the dark grey of that uniform allowed me to evade their fire and eventually their pursuit…” Joachim, son of Kaiser Wilhelm II, now pastor, opened his eyes, looking to his daughter.

“That same uniform you’re wearing. Resized to fit you, of course.” Joachim said, the old man’s smile slowly returning. “God hears your confession, my child, and he shall forgive you. His blessing is upon the task you are to undertake.” He locks his eyes with hers, the glimmer of hope and pride in his eyes as he looks. “Go forth, Viktoria. Restore Germany in memory of your grandfather, your grandmother, my fallen brothers, and in memory of your namesake, my sister. They are looking down from heaven upon you, alongside God Almighty.”

Viktoria gave a solemn nod, “I will, father. Germany shall be made anew; her enemies crushed; her honor and glory restored.” Joachim looks forward as Viktoria spoke, and with a deep voice, he recites. “‘As thou believest, so be it done unto thee. And by the command of our Lord Jesus Christ I forgive thee thy sins, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.’” “Amen,” Viktoria responds, and opens the confessional door, her boots clicking against the stone floor of the church as she walks to the front door, the two men in similar uniforms that guarded the main door quickly snapping to attention and opening the large oaken doors.

Viktoria Madeleine Louise Charlotte, descendant of the House of Hohenzollern, Queen of Prussia, and rightful heir to the German Empire, paused just at the threshold, looking back for a moment at the stained glass image of the Virgin Mary on the far window, silently reciting a prayer before uttering a simple “Amen”, then turning and stepping outside into the light.

Magdeburg, Corsicinot
May 10th, 1958. 0928 Local Time

The warm spring sun shined down on Viktoria as she exited the church, light glistening off of the polished metal of her uniform. In one smooth motion, she places her pickelhaube on her head, her long dirty blond hair braided and tucked away inside the helmet. Her hand lightly rests on the hilt of the ornate saber on her hip, an intricately engraved gunmetal Mauser C96 holstered on her other hip. Before her in the courtyard of the church stood men and women dressed in similar uniforms, the sons and daughters of what little of the old Royal Guard survived the 1906 coup, and even a few old men of the original Guard acting as officers and leaders to the new generation. At the base of the steps leading down to the courtyard was a row of pews that had been moved outside. There sat many of the old German Aristocracy.

Old men and women, once of noble status before their titles were made nothing more than simple words to symbolize the history of their great ancestors when the Aplotzkiis removed their power because of those Aristocrat’s continued loyalty to the old German Empire. Though their titles by themselves were almost politically powerless in the Corsicinot Government, the wealth and influence of the old elite was still strong, especially with those who did not necessarily approve of the Corsicinot Government.

Viktoria looks over the Royal Guards, the Aristocracy, and the handful of independent news reporters and cameras. Taking a deep breath, she straightens her uniform and marches calmly forward to the podium set up at the top of the steps. The freshly polished dark wood almost glistened in the light with the polished metal of the microphone that sat atop it. Carved and freshly painted on the front of the podium was the old Imperial Coat of Arms in all its glory. She began removing her gloves as she approached the podium, placing them down when she reached it. She pulled out a piece of paper from inside her jacket, laying it out before then removing her pickelhaube, her long braid laying across her left shoulder. Taking a deep breath, she looks to one of the reporters, who gives a nod and a thumbs up. She gives a nod of confirmation in return and locks her eyes with the camera pointed directly at her as the red light on it flashes on, broadcasting the scene across almost every non-state run independent channel across Germany. The nation was watching, and those who weren’t soon would be.

“People of Corsicinot - no, people of Germany, hear me now. My name is Viktoria. Few have met me, and even fewer know who I truly am. But you would have heard of my ancestors.
They built this nation into what it is today. They brought us to greatness; to commanding a quarter of the world at one time. Our nation was the forefront of industry, of science, of economics, and of military might.”

“And all of that was lost when the hand that guided that great nation was cut off. My ancestors, the ones who had protected and led the German Empire, were murdered by an enemy that sought not to build, but to destroy the foundations that Germany was built upon. They sought not to lead, but to control the people of the nation. They sought the worship of themselves over God Almighty Himself.”

“Perhaps my enemies have realized by now who I am. However, the fact that I am alive on this day proves their spies are not as good as they believe. Allow me to inform them, and you, my people, of my name, my title, and my purpose:” Viktoria straightens her posture, coming fully to attention as her voice booms with surprising depth and strength.

“My name is Viktoria Madeleine Louise Charlotte of the House of Hohenzollern, daughter of Prince Joachim Franz Humbert, granddaughter of Kaiser Wilhelm II. I am Queen of Prussia, and, by the blessing of God and the Constitution of the German Empire of 1871, I am the rightful Kaiserin of the Empire of Germany. Fifty-two years ago, twenty-four years before I was born, my birthright was stolen from me, my family executed by the traitors and heretics of the Aplotzkii. My father, Prince Joachim, barely escaped the purges with his life thanks to the few who were still loyal to the true regents of Germany. And so I stand here before you and I shall declare unto you, my people, that the Aplotzkiis will be punished for their betrayal and their degradation of our Holy Germania.”

“I declare, on this day, May 10th, in the year of our Lord 1958, that the sins and crimes of the Aplotzkii Regime will be punished. I declare the dawn of the Second German Empire, the true, rightful successors to the German Empire. By the grace and strength of God and with the blood of my ancestors, I declare war upon the twisted, unholy abomination that is Corsicinot, and upon the vile traitors and heretics of the House of Aplotzkii and those who worship them. I declare this to not only be a war of vengeance and a war of restoration, but a Holy Crusade against the Aplotzkii menace. May God have mercy on the souls of our enemies, for no mercy shall be given to them by us.”

Enthralled by passion, Viktoria unsheathes the polished blade on her hip and raises it high. Taking their cue, the small band in the back started playing Preussens Gloria with gusto. “People of Germany, hear me now! Join me in this great struggle. Lend your rifles, lend your swords, lend your lives in this cause oh so righteous and just! Your brothers and sisters need you now in this time of need! Your Kaiserin calls upon you in her time of need! Germany calls to you to liberate her from these shackles of oppression! Almighty God calls upon you to rid this holy land of the Aplotzkii blasphemers! Our war begins, my brothers and sisters! Glory unto God! Glory unto the German people! Glory unto the Second German Empire!” A thunderous roar erupts from the men and women in formation before her, rifles with bayonets affixed held high while the old aristocrats stood from their seats and applauded. The sound of artillery guns boomed in the distance with the crescendo of the orchestra.

And thus, the first shots of the German Imperial Revolution were fired.

This is an official message from the Imperial Office of Germany, dated May 13th, 1958.

The following is an open dispatch to all (non-Carsonist) nations and organizations from Her Royal Majesty, Viktoria Madeleine Louise Charlotte von Hohenzollern, Queen of Prussia and Kaiserin of the Second German Empire. Quote:

My friends,

While ‘friend’ may seem like a hollow or presumptuous choice of words on my part to some, my intentions on the international stage are nothing more than that: friendly and cordial. I seek to establish official and open discourse with my fellow nations, both on the continent and abroad.

I will not lie; the future of the restored Germany which I guide is a precarious and delicate thing. In order to fully succeed against the Apolotskii menace, Germany needs the aid of her allies, both past and potentially future. I am deeply honored and blessed by the devotion of my countrymen and women, but devotion alone cannot win a war. Germany needs equipment. Food and commodities for her people. Medicine for the wounded and the ill. Rifles, artillery, tanks, aircraft, and equipment for these weapons of war for her brave men and women who fight for such a righteous cause. Even volunteers, if this war gets so desperate.

At this time, Germany cannot give much in exchange for such support, only the promise that any aid and equipment will be used to alleviate the suffering of my people and to bring the downfall of the Apolotskiis and their false state. However, neither I nor Germany will forget your contributions. Your assistance in our time of need will be repaid in full and more, either through monetary, political, military, or diplomatic compensation. Help me restore Germany to glory, and Germany will help you.

Please, my potential friends, recognize and support the Second German Empire as your equal, and you shall have our respect, our admiration, and more.

- Kaiserin Viktoria von Hohenzollern

God save the Kaiserin.
God save Germany.

Victory in the East! - December 20th, 1958

    Today, Premier-Führer Abram Volder at last broke a pensive silence which had fallen over the wireless, as well as Angola's rapidly expanding television network with joyous news! The most venerable leader of the Angolan nation brought to the people developments from the growing eastern front, where he confirmed a freshly stricken victory against the ignominious Kongolese. Based off a handful of reports and the Premier-Führer's own recounting, it has become apparent that Army Purple, under the leadership of General Ernst Criado, has undoubtedly crushed the latest bout of enemy resistance along the Lulua River.

    After lauding the heroism and eternal bravery of the young Angolan men who gave the ultimate sacrifice on the lines against the imperialist aggressors, the Premier-Führer would deliver a most fiery speech before the National Assembly. Decrying what he described as attempts to misinform the Angolan people with rumors of an apparent "futility of the war," he proceeded to remark that "the greatest weapon the international cabal possesses within its arsenal is its lies." The lies, which he claimed took the form of misconstrued stories of Angolan defeats on the battlefield, can be expected to try and seep into Angolan homes and minds. Elaborating on the possibility of enemy-propagated mistruths, the Premier-Führer warned of how these lies "will separate the weak-minded from the Angolan-minded," and that anyone who believes the enemy's illusions are "no Angolans at all."

    Following a pause in his speech, Premier-Führer Volder continued by lamenting an apparent illness which had befallen commander of Army Green, General Viktor Rist, which sources report to be an early-stage entry into some form of mental decay. The great leader appeared greatly saddened by the revelation that the General would likely be unable to serve in his post, as well as greatly angered by an apparent suggestion by treacherous forces that the impending retirement and alleged diagnosis had any relation to a completely fabricated disagreement between the two men. Many citizens of Luanda, at the Premier-Führer's behest, also took to sending letters of love and support to the outgoing national hero, despite him not having been seen for the past week.

    Further defying all odds, Premier-Führer Volder went on yet another tour of one of Angola's finest chocolate-chip ration producing facilities outside of Mussende, where he gave yet another riveting statement to a crowd of workers, most of whom were women. Saluting their tireless work to keep Angolan soldiers fed and, above all, support the war effort, he would call on all Angolans who have encountered or may soon encounter enemy occupation through a radio address. Simply calling on them to "resist by any means possible," the Premier-Führer spoke of how "every Angolan man, woman, and child, must be ready to sacrifice their all against any enemy..."

    "...Be they capitalist puppets from Salisbury, or jack-booted gravonists from Wilhemsburg... [we] must all be prepared to sacrifice everything for Angola."

    Viktor Rist stops being a General

National Heroes Promoted - December 21st, 1958

    Following the untimely retiring of General Viktor Rist, the noble leader of our sacred Republic tasked War Minister Naaman Bogote with seeking out an ideal candidate to fill in a pair of vacant boots. With oversight from the Premier-Führer, Bogote proudly announced to the High Command that he had officially recommended the appointment of Lieutenant General Claudio Cabral, which Volder had agreed with. The newly-appointed General Cabral, known for his current noble task of managing the movement of food rations to coastal civilians with the help of the men under his command, did not actually receive notice of his promotion until hearing of it over the radio.

    Being the only member of the High Command of most-entirely Portuguese descent, the Premier-Führer expressed happiness with the promotion as working in tandem with his additional goal of "making the military and government look more like Angola."

    Additionally, as per the machinations of the moving chain of command, various other positions were in need of replacement, ultimately including the newly created position of Head of Internal Security for the Luanda Area, a position created subordinate to the Director of the Zivilpolizei. Filling the position is, it would seem, former commander of the women's wing of the Volkskampfgruppen, Hansina Linda, who graciously accepted her appointment in an extravagant speech before the directing board of the Zivilpolizei.

    On a more entertaining note, the Angolan Screeners' Guild released the announcement of an upcoming film called Nation's Pride, which will be screened in Luanda sometime next year! While not much is yet known of the film's premise, it has so far promised to be a most explosive tale of heroic patriotism displayed on the frontlines by Angolan soldiers. Rumored to be one of the most high-budget films in recent history, it has accrued tremendous fascination not only by the general populace, but even the Premier-Führer himself. Despite his usually not caring for films made in association with creators from "treacherous England," Volder has expressed that he would keep a firm eye on the development and attention given to the impending cinematic spectacle.

    Political power +5
    Claudio Cabral becomes a General

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