Gallian Army

The Principality of Gallia, thanks to its small size and population, doesn't have a very large standing army. The Gallian Army instead relies on conscription during times of war to fill its ranks. This practice splits their armed forces between the Regular Army, ~80,000 career soldiers, and the Gallian Militia, which can potentially be every single person of age in the country. Gallia includes military training as a required part of secondary and post-secondary education, ensuring that all possible militia members have at least some form of training. The country also has a functioning navy, though little information is given about this branch.

The full might of the Gallian Army is mobilized during the Second Europan War to resist both the Empire's attempts at invasion and the Federation's attempts at a diplomatic coup. While the army struggled against the military might of the Empire, it successfully repelled the invasion, though at high cost. The Gallian Civil War would then see its remaining regular military pit against itself, as the nation's laws prevented any militia deployment against internal rebellions.

Battle vs. Red Army (March of War) (by LB&amp;SCR)
They'd originally come just a few at a time; just asking questions. They also flouted their Government system. They'd been everywhere, examing what they called the 'Proletariat' and the 'Bourgeoisie.' However, they all disappeared as quickly as they came; and the people of Gallia returned to their normal lives. However, pretty soon; others showed up, claiming to come from a nation of Extreme Armor Doctrine. They'd only come because the first group had arrived. Our story picks up with two of these others....

A Tale of Two Foreigners
Randgriz, Principality of Gallia

The man pushed his way through the crowd, a weird grin on his face. Have no fear, this man was a reporter for non-other than the notorious European Alliance Network BBC! He jammed his hands into his pockets as he weaved around. He wasn't what caught the attention of several military men. The man who did... did not blend in. Almost all of his clothing was grey or green-grey. His peaked cap had the wire stiffener removed, and was lopsided upon his head; his in a bottle-green M40 Tunic and his trenchcoat of a Feldgrau, and a facial scar. Before he knew it, he'd lost sight of the man he was supposed to keeping track of, and was kinda stopped by some soldiers. Speaking in a foreign tongue didn't help his case much. Even his English or Basic or whatever they called it here wasn't exactly convincing.

"Vat?!" He almost shrieked. "Charges of vat?!" He asked. "I am dragged to a voreign country by and Englishman, away from my commander and unit, and now I'm being arrested?!" The man was infuriated. However, he willingly handed over his sidearm, and offered no resistance as he was walked off. However, that very sneaky BBC reporter quickly followed. They'd taken his only escort! However, he was great at snooping stuff out, so he only had to follow them.

They didn't go to far, and pretty soon he found where they'd taken him. It only appeared they were asking questions about the uniform. They seemed to relax a bit when he showed them his documents. He inched closer to hear....

The Lieutenant seemed to relax. "Okay, so... Hauptmann," he said the word as if it was extremely strange to say. "... Hauptmann Maximillian..." He paused at the man's last name. ".. erm..."

"Köhler. It's pronounced Köhler..."

"Okay then, why are you here, Hauptmann?" The Leiutenant asked, leaning forward on the desk. The Hauptmann shrugged. "The Soviets came here. So, naturally, we came. Though, as far as I know, it's only me and Mr. Terry..." He said, folding his hands.

"Terry?"

"Lee Terry, he's a War Correspondent....." He said. "... for the BBC." He then clarified. "British Broadcasting Service." He said, leaning his head on a fist. He looked at the Leiutenant, as if awaiting further questions. The Leiutenant hesitated.

"You said people came?" The man nodded.

"Yes. The Reds came, they were the ones asking questions."

"You know this how?"

"Espionage is an European Alliance specialty, my friend." He said, giving the smile a wolverine would give before tearing something's throat out. "I'd also like to recommend that you brace yourselves for the Red Tide that will soon be coming..."

"Red Tide?"

"Yes, Red Tide?!" The German was getting extremely annoyed at the ineptability of this man. "The Soviets only ever show up asking questions for one reason! To determine the 'plight' of the 'working class,' and when it's deemed insufferable to their eyes; and trust me it always is.... they come is numbers you cannot withstand by yourself!" He said, shooting to his feet and slamming a fist on the table. "I was fighting them while you were still crawling around on the carpet, and it took millions of lives to stem the tide!" He said, before losing his bluster and sitting back down. The Leiutenant seemed flustered, and darted out of the room. They were going to need to hold this man...

Terry sucked in a breath. Ooh! This was something he'd have to send back to London when he got the chance. Very, very juicy story. 'Small Nation Struck by Red Goliath!' Yes, that would be something to write about. He'd worry about Köhler later....

The Glorious Invasion
Somewhere in the Soviet Union

The little Commissar sat in the tent next to Major Alexenova, the female officer he'd been running the battalion with. He pushed his dirty glasses up his nose as the General stood up front explaining how everything would work. With how small the nation was seen to be, it's military size had been estimated to be fairly small. As such, the 3rd Mechanized Army was to lead the spearhead. As big as it was, it's commander demanded to be able to take on the nation himself, but High Command had convinced him to work with others. As such, alongside the 3rd; the 5th Motorized would go in. A third group, the 24th Army (fresh from a horrendus defeat at Vilnius) would be waiting back in friendly areas as a reserve.

This meant that for once Rostov would not be on the front... he would be near it, but not on it. Not that... that was bad or something. The General soon dismissed everyone, but Rostov remained in his seat, breathing hard. Alexenova gingerly touched his arm. She was probably the only person who could get away with bother him without bullets being thrown in their direction. However, Rostov came back to reality and they both walked out of the tent into the cold morning. He wiped his glasses on his sleeve.

"Well... more fun times ahead, eh Rostov?" Alexenova was also probably the only person who get away with calling him by last name. Rostov shrugged. He walked over to the truck, that would take them to the port, where they would be all loaded onto ships, and sent on their merry ways. Oh joy....

''About... One Month Later.''

Okay. Soviet High Command stood corrected. It would take more than two Armies to overrun the place. Intitial probes into Gallian Territory had not been, optimistic; and so, Rostov had been completely thrust forward again into hellfire. He'd been told to send some scouting parties up ahead into the territory to get a good visage on the area ahead. So he had. The parties came back with some reports... and they were quickly ferried to the combined Headquarters. As such, the 3rd Mechanized was going to charge headlong into a country of peasant workers. They should be welcomed with open arms!

Repulsion
Randgriz, Principality of Gallia

With the headlong rush of the unknown forces, the Gallian Militia had been called to active duty once again. Welkin Gunther was now in the same station that one of the foreigners had been in. They had called the foreigner back. Welkin and Alicia now sat at the table as well as the original interegator. Irene Ellet had actually been allowed inside, and had her notepad ready. The door opened, and the Hauptmann stepped inside, accompanied by another stranger. The stranger stayed against the wall, pulling his own notepad out, alongside a really nice fountain pen.

The Hauptmann sat down, facing the four of them. "I assume I'm here cause of the Reds attempting to literally bulldoze their way through you, Ja?" He asked, almost in a sarcastic tone, but he managed to keep it polite. He folded his hands. He then remembered something and flicked his hand at the stranger. "This is Mr. Terry of the BBC, for purposes that I don't know, he wanted to be here." Terry just grinned. The Lieutenant who had conducted the original questioning began.

"You say you are a veteran at fighting these people? We need to know how to combat them." The Lieutenant said. "While we can't force you to help due to your status as a foreign national, it would be greatly beneficial for all of us if you could lend any information."

Köhler lit a cigarrette and took a puff. He gazed at them, before laughing. "It's basic really. They have the manpower to spare, you don't. They have the armored vehicles to spare you don't." He said. "However, I can give you some pieces of advice. Most tactics will involve overwhelming you, so static defenses are not a good idea." He took another puff. "Second, never shoot a Bear tank in the front, that just makes it angry. Oh, and beware the fire." He said.

Lee Terry kept looking at the strangers (to him) in the room, and writing down little character sketches as well as notes on the conversation. His gaze kept flickering to Irene, who was also taking notes. He made a quick sketch there, likening her to a war correspondent like him. Had she been everywhere? He'd been everywhere: the large Infantry vs. Tank battle at Vilnius, Lithuania; the border skirmishes between the Latin Junta and the United Republic; he'd had the honor of dining with some chieftains of the African Warloads Council; and his greatest feat... surviving an attack by a katana-wielding Manchurian. Fun times... he returned to the conversation at hand.

One semi-productive meeting later, all of them walked out, and Terry made a freaking bee-line towards the group of Gallians. All three looked at him, and he beamed. "Lee Terry, of the BBC; out of London." He said, offering a hand out. As they histantly shook it, he said. "Now then, I hear that you two," he said, pointing at Welkin and Alicia, "are heroes of the highest caliber." He said, taking his notepad out. "Think that you can turn the tide against the Reds when you are so outnumbered?" He asked, literally staring them down.

Welkin gulped, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, I mean, I did what anyone else would do..."

Lee Terry quickly scribbled that down. He then looked up again. "So, you were talking to good ole Hauptmann Köhler, who probably might have just saved you all with his... kinda unsolicited, vulgar advice. How do you feel about him? If you provide some good answers, I might tell you a bit about him." He said. "Oh, what the heck, I'll go ahead and tell you. He's from the 5th Battalion, 14th Regiment, 2nd Mobile Division. He commands one of the major Battalions of the 14th, though he is a bit under-ranked. He alongside a angry French guy, and some extremely underpaid Polish man serve under a Irishman who's been drinking the enemy under the table since 1922." He said, grinning widely.

Welkin rubbed the back of his neck. "I've never seen him in action, so I can't say anything about his command abilities. However, he does look like he's been through quite a bit, so we'll have to keep his advice in mind...." He said, as Lee Terry smiled brightly again. He continued to pester all of them, until Captain Varrot dragged Alicia and Welkin off. However, Terry kept bothering Irene, and the two reporters kept constantly deflecting questions and asking their own as they slowly blended into the crowd.

Firefight
''"Welkin, I apologize for having to tear you away from Squad 7, but the other Militia Squads are in depserate need of an officer and heavy vehicular support." Her glasses had flashed. "As such, you are needed at the front. If you are successful in pushing back the onslaught, you'll be returned to Squad 7 almost immediately."''

That had been Varrot's words, and as Welkin stood out of the Edelwiess's turret listening to the sounds of vehicles grow ever closer. Soon enough, the roaring grew close, and a Soviet Bear Tank crested the horizon. Welkin took a breath. "Alright. These people seek to take our land by use of overwhelming force. Let's show them what Gallia can do. Squad! Move Out!" He then ducked into the turret and closed the hatch.

The Soviet Tank Commander; a young silvery-white haired woman named Nala Botovski, stared at the assembled Gallian forces. "There their are comrades. They seek to stop the spreading of the joys of Communism, take them out!" She closed the Bear Tanks Command Hatch, and the vehicle rumbled forward, accompanied by the vicious yells of Red Soldiers and the less enthusiastic yells of Conscripts.

Soviet Union: x 19

Gallia: x 19

"UUUURRRAAAAH!" This was the word screamed as the Soviets closed the distance. The distance closed so that the vehicles could exchange shells. The Edelwiess fired it's 88, the shell exploding to the left of the Bear Tank. It's 100mm gun thundered in reply, the massive AP shell throwing dirt as it buried itself into the soft ground. The wary Conscripts illegally formed up behind the Bear, very weary of the shells, and knowing that the Bear could absorb most crap without a scratch. The Red Soldiers and RPG Troops showed no such care; they blindly charged forth, overtaking the the Bear alongiside Three BA-10s, whose wheels allowed un-parralelled straight forward mobility. The lead's 45 boomed, it's shell impacting a light tank with very little damage.

Flak Tanks had yet to open fire, but the shell exchange was only the opening rounds. The infantry clash, occured. A Red Soldier saw how clumped the enemy had gotten, and exposed himself to fire by pulling out a lighter. He lit the rag on a cocktail, and tossed it at the clump of enemies. It exploded into a pool of fire, and most Gallians stopped, dropped, and rolled; snuffing out the flames before it got too bad, but a scout was too slow, and soon he was on the ground, screaming from severe burns. "Ah crap!" One of the Shocktroopers yelled. "Miss Me-" She was cut off as a burst from a PPSh sent her backpeddling into cover. The same Red Soldier lit another rag, and prepared to toss one before several well-aimed rifle shots from a Scout downed him.

Soviet Union: [[file:red.png] x 18

Gallia:  x 18

A Gallian Light Tank fired, and easily pierced the thin armor of a BA-10, almost tearing out the engine and make the vehicle slowly roll to a stop. There wasn't any fire, so the crew probably still lived, but another shell tore through the turret, probably ending that possibly. The two remaining BA-10s went into overdrive, one of them turning rapidly into a wicked looking drift.

Soviet Union: x 17

"Watch out for their Shocktroops!" A Scout shouted. "Those guns have large magazines, so their bursts can be longer!" He continued, ducking down as a Conscripts rifle shot deflected off the Shamrock, which he was next to. He raised his rifle, and fired a cacophony of 7 shots, making the Conscript pale and duck back behind the Bear tank. Nala opened the top hatch and looked back behind the Bear. "Get out there Comrades! Cowardice is an executionable offense!" She roared, before ducking back into the tank....

TBC

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