All hail Liberia, hail!

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Ricent1
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Re: All hail Liberia, hail!

Post by Ricent1 »

December, 1941:

The sleeping giant has awoken. Hirohito, in protest to the US embargo on oil to Japan has launched a successful attack on the US Navy, crippling it. The US has entered the war. Hitler uses the occasion to formally declare war against a nation, the US. I guess there's a first time for everything.

Italy seems bogged down in North Africa. They have successfully raced across Libya and wrenched it from the hands of the British. General Montgomery is personally overseeing British forces on our continent. I met him once in Morocco a few years ago. He came off as a bit pompous and arrogant. I found him always talking about himself and his "incredibly sharp and astute military mind". He was surrounded by "yes" men that coddled his every whim. What a Prima Donna!

A General Rommel, I believe it is, is involved here as well for the Germans. My Generals tell me he is cunning and crafty, and more than a match for this British peacock, with his prancing and self-adulation. Fortunately, Field Marshalls known for tank tactics will probably avoid our dense jungles. Never before have I been so thankful for the twisted, impassable stretches of heavy-canopied, rain forest which is constantly encroaching on our homes and communities.

Whispering voices say when Erwin Rommel mentions his Fuehrer, there is disdain, and even loathing, in his voice. Interesting.

With the Germans slugging their way east into frozen Russia, and still swatting at the pesky mosquito known as England in the West, I have postponed my rush to acquire the military goods needed to build a fabrication plant. My scientists had a breakthrough with designing metal barges last month. I have asked them to make us able to extract petroleum from the ocean floor. You see, there seems to be a bed of petroleum under the sea very close to the shore just east of us, in what was formally a part of our country.

Now a part of French West Africa, some petroleum companies have been testing the sand and tide west of Abidjan, about 200 km east of our border. When the French ripped this swath of land from us, they asked one of our locals the name of the city. The poor fellow did not know French. He was Bassa, and being Bassa, very poor. He was a farmer (more of a tenant farmer, or serf) and had no education. He was afraid of the white European and exclaimed, "min-chan m'bidjan", which means, "I just cut the leaves!". The Frenchman thought that was the name of the town and so the name stuck. It has been the punchline to many of our indigenous jokes. It is always funny to hear a European tourist or dignitary talk of Abidjan. When they say they are leaving to go to Abidjan, I am always tempted to hand them a pair of hedge-clippers and gloves. But I digress.

We hope to have the ability to retrieve oil from the ocean depths by the time this war is over. France is still occupied by Germany, but I do not see Germany holding its own against Britain, the Soviets, and now the US. When France is restored, they will be too weak to protect the vast jungles they have colonized here. There is even talk of African independence for most of the English and French lands in Africa. It seems our poverty is too much of a drain on their economies and the price tag of this war will force them to sever the weight around their necks of our dependent peoples. I am not sure yet what to think about new liberty all around us, and hope it is not for a while. Nature abhors a vacuum, and power is as real a commodity as anything tangible. We are people groups with limited knowledge and training to self-govern after so long being told what to do. King Farouk and I are two of only a few leaders that could assist newly-birthed republics with advice and counsel. I do not expect the French or British to spend time, energy, and money propping up fledgling governments. They will have their own reconstruction to tend to.

Speaking of King Farouk, he has successfully held off an invasion by the Italians. Although he allowed British forces to help him, he is no lover of England, I will tell you that. Apparently, Sir Miles Lampson, a British ambassador with an Italian wife, told my dear friend Farouk that he must rid Egypt of Italian soldiers. To which my old friend responded, looking at Lamson's wife, "I will get rid of my Italians, sir, when you get rid of yours." I don't know how he did it with a straight face! I wish I could have been there.

We will continue to build our supplies and cash. We are constructing a second large industrial goods plant and think we will have enough electricity to keep it running at full capacity. Coal is still cheap and we can build more power plants with all the goods we will be producing. Industrial goods are selling well on the global market due to all the bombing in Europe, so it will bring in cash as well. West Africa is poorly armed. If we can purchase just a few mechanized infantry and/or tanks, we should be able to reclaim our lost lands to the east with little or no resistance. It's a matter of availability at this point. Petroleum will be the prize. Without it, any large scale operation will fail if global opinion turns against us and the free flow of oil and gasoline suddenly dry up.
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Tnarg
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Re: All hail Liberia, hail!

Post by Tnarg »

This is a great AAR. If you need a defense minister let me know.
Ricent1
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Re: All hail Liberia, hail!

Post by Ricent1 »

July, 1944:

The US is making its presence known. The largest invasion in history has just taken place during my lifetime. Allied forces are beach-headed and pushing into France. Within 4 weeks they are within site of Paris. Is this the beginning of the end for the 3rd Reich?

I have stored up 4000 tons of military goods by a painfully slow 5 tons a day. I have rich offers coming in from Russia almost daily offering me Russian crude for military goods. I have so far declined as I want to start my military complex as soon as I have the 10,000 tons needed, and so far, the availability of materials is extremely scarce. And I do not know how long this war will last.

Speaking of Russia, I am intrigued by the qualifications of a man my deputies have informed me about. They say he is a military genius, a "20th century Hannibal of Carthage". I am a lover, not a fighter. Everyone hear knows that (though my wife may have something to say about that). Warfare is new to me, and I have no formal training. I need someone advising and directing when the time comes. Could it be this man? He is only known by the name, Major Tnarg. He is a secret asset of the Kremlin. I had my best investigators look into his background and personal life.

It seems he is a family man and has at least one little girl, born in June, 2 years ago. He has served faithfully for the Communist Party and is considered by many as the Soviets' top battle tactician. On my desk, I have an elaborate plan he authored, code name: The Bear, the Dragon, and The Eagle. http://www.bgforums.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=19453

Though it is slotted to take place in the future, it's an aggressive proposal for world domination. The copy I have shows a signature by Stalin himself in the margins. I fear I must make this man an offer to be our Secretary of War. If not for our own military dreams of expansion, then for the sake of the freedom of the rest of the world against communist totalitarianism spanning the earth.

I have sent out some dignitaries of my own to secretly meet with him in Moscow under the ruse of petroleum contract agreements with their Commerce Secretary. It is a risky move. If his loyalty is too much to Mother Russia, we could be seen as hostile and be squashed like bugs once Germany is disposed of. I have instructed my attaches to test the waters, discreetly. If favorable conversation takes place, they are authorized to meet any demands he has. They have in their possession a group of indoor and outdoor photographs of my 14,000 sq. ft bungalow on the beach that I will personally hand him the keys to if he says yes... December in Liberia is so much more agreeable than Moscow.

The men I am sending I trust as discreet and discerning. I have told them that after contacting Major Tnarg, he is to contact me by telegram with a single code word if he is interested: "Kartsev". He is well-read and I am sure he knows the connotation. I am hoping that his intellect is stronger than blind allegiance. Surely witnessing Lenin's disposal of Trotsky, and Stalin's drunken nightly parties, has shown him the inherent self-destruction of the Marxist model.

We are holding our collective breaths...
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Ricent1
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Re: All hail Liberia, hail!

Post by Ricent1 »

August 1946:

Germany is being beaten back and Italy is about to fall. Japan, however, is unchanged. It seems the U.S. is quite forgiving and will not revenge Pearl Harbor. I have noticed that with the demise of France, now completely owned by the British, that all their colonies appear autonomous. This includes our tartar, West Africa. I am nearly ready to build our first military compound and prepare for war. I am wondering what world reaction will be. I have alliances with 2 nations. I am hoping that will be enough to halt retribution from others in the region.
Tnarg
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Re: All hail Liberia, hail!

Post by Tnarg »

Did you get my PM?
Ricent1
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Re: All hail Liberia, hail!

Post by Ricent1 »

Just realized it was in my in box...

Winter 1949:

As our military complex, barracks, and land fab facility take turns draining our military goods reserve, I decide to take a vacation in , of all places, Berlin. Hitler is dead. The 3rd reich lasted all of 20 years, versus the proposed millennium, and the war in Europe is nearly over. Hungary has huge advancements into Russia and still controls Moscow and Stalingrad, but they are being overwhelmed by Allied forces.

I am sitting in a cafe opposite the Brandenburg gate, enjoying coffee and the view, when a man sits down next to me. He asks me if I am done reading the paper. I tell him I can't read German and hand him copy that is rolled up on my table. He unrolls it and lays it out in front of me. In big red letters, written with a pen is the word, "Kartsev". I look back at the man, and say "How did you do that? How did you know I would sit here at this table? He just smiled and said, "I have trying to reach you since you sent your delegation to meet me." Not wanting to look like a tin horn ruler in a backwards country 40 years behind in technology, much less espionage tactics, I replied, "Well, I have been running a country and it takes a lot of my time."

I tell him I am glad to have him as my secretary of war. He smiles and asks for the keys to the bungalow. When I hand them to him, his smile evaporates and says his family will be arriving their within the week and would I afford them all their needs. I tell him of course, that there will be servants to clean and cook, butler to see children to school.... He politely interrupts to tell me he meant security. That what he is doing is putting his family in danger. I tell him I have security forces. Politely he declines and says he as his own men to look after the premises and that they will be arriving a day before his family. I tell him of course.

As we talk, his eyes scan the street up and down and I can tell he wants to make this quick and to the point. "I can't join you in Liberia yet." He says. "Stalin is paranoid and is executing those close to him. We call these former party members, 'non-persons'. There faces are airbrushed from photos and everyone acts as though they never existed. something needs to be done." This is when I chose to limit my intake of information, for my own good. Then he tells me that I should send him maps and relevent information so that he can help us achieve our goals. He will be in touch. I decide that it would be good to purchase a subscription to Pravda and other European papers so that I can watch the progress of the USSR and juxtapose it with the covert actions of The man sitting next to me.

I asked him how do I reach him when we are beginning production of weapons. He simply tells me he will know and that he will find me. Uh, I believe him...
Ater
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Re: All hail Liberia, hail!

Post by Ater »

I love all the details! Keep it up!
I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones. -Albert Einstein
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D.B. Cooper
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Re: All hail Liberia, hail!

Post by D.B. Cooper »

Just gotta say, REALLY REALLY good job so far. You must be a writer or something as i could never think up the dialog your putting down. It flows so well with the game and history "my favorite subject". I absolutly love the added bits of off topic real history here. I started a few AAR's when 1936 came out but never posted anything. I was really telling the history of my country, in the AAR which to me makes it VERY interesting.

As i played the game, I had a wiki up for each year that I came to. Like when November 4, 1952 came up I incorperated into my story how I "The US President" founded The NSA and why it was founded. I did this for just about every major event that happened that year, finding "real" newspaper articals to help me show or explain with pics if possible. I did the same for the FBI, the Social Security act, ect ect, anything that was relevent that year...

If only I had your story writing ability i might have had the courage to actually post some of those old AAR's, anyways keep up the great work and after writing this, I think I might just go home tonight and start preparing to do this again, starting in 1936 or maybe doing a 2020 future version, but I would have to be alot more creative like you to do the future version...lol i have plenty of back story with photos about how Obama sent this country spiraling out of control, which of course leads to WW3...at some point.

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Ricent1
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Re: All hail Liberia, hail!

Post by Ricent1 »

April, 1950:

Japan is still fighting, but confined to their 4 islands. Italian colonies in my home continent are being invaded by British and Canadian forces. More of a mop-up, really, than a theater of battle.

I decide to take the family to the US to show them the country that made our Liberia possible, so many years before. We take an ocean liner (as Miss Earhart still has not been found and flying that far does not appeal to my sense of security).

Several days afloat on an endless sea gives me the chance to unwind and relax. As I lay on the promenade deck in a wooden and cloth chair that reminds me of the hammocks we hang between rubber trees back home, I watch the sunset and listen to the ocean and its soothing sounds of spray and crashing waves against our hull. I scan the stories in a London paper handed out by a yeoman purser making his rounds. I decide to bother him for a drink they call the "Manhattan". We are arriving in New York Harbor tomorrow, so I want to accustom myself to the American experience prior to our arrival. I am told there are drinks named for each of the 5 boroughs of New York. A Long Island tea will be making its way to me in 15 minutes. A Brooklyn cocktail to follow. (I would not be surprised if I see 2 of the Lady Liberties in the harbor by the time I get there.) My wife, lounging next to me, decides to order something she knows at least some of the ingredients of. It has coconut in it, and is called a "dak-er-ee" or "doc-er-ee", or some such nonsense. It comes with an umbrella, which apparently makes it more exotic. Oh well, to each his own.

Amid the articles on fashion and sport, I nearly spit liquid New York on myself as I come across a story out of Moscow. In December of last year, the very first "International Stalin Prize for Strengthening Peace Among Peoples" is awarded. What?! This makes as much sense as asking Hitler over to your son's 'bar mitzvah'! The recipient is a name I don't recognize. Apparently Attila the Hun came in second. Maybe he still has a shot at Miss Congeniality. Posthumously, of course.

I fold the paper and set it on the table between Asatu and me. She has put the umbrella in her hair and is as beautiful as the day I met her. That's not the "City that never sleeps" talking, either. I feel that way about her when I am sober, as well. Times of war just cause me to forget the beauty around me. Edwin Jr. and Aya are running up and down the wooden deck. It is good to here the sound of laughing children, especially my own. Rocked by the waves, and kissed on the forehead by the ocean breeze, I slip into an intoxicated slumber. Stalin awards aside, this may be the best day of my life.



New York City. It is everything I was told it was. And more. Buildings as tall as mountains. And people. So many people! Where do they all sleep at night? My children are struck with as much awe as Asatu and I. We decide to eat dinner and then a movie, which I understand are in color now.

Fortunately, we are here as a picture movie, called a cartoon, is just entering the theaters. A man named Disney has adapted an old story from Belgium. It is called, "Cinderella". Aya, being 6 years old, still dreams of being a princess, so we buy 4 tickets.

She is mesmerized and talks for hours about it afterwards. She says, "Da, they look so real. They move like we do!" I told her the war has taken much of the money people have to spend, and that the studio that made the movie had to film live people acting out the parts, and then they painted over the film, slide by slide, to save money drawing each character. Note: never try to explain roto-scoping to a 6-year-old. She spent the rest of our vacation looking for a woman in New York City that had been painted into a cartoon character. There were painted women, all right. Mostly at night, with short skirts and standing under streetlights. My daughter asked one if she was waiting for the prince. In our embarrassment, we quickly shushed her and told her to leave the nice lady alone. The woman smiled at Aya as I saw tears pooling up in her eyes.

We return to the Waldorf Astoria to put the kids to bed. It has been a fascinating day. My wife takes the children to the room as I see a copy of the New York Times at the concierge's desk. I pick it up and scan the headlines. I see there is a restroom in the lobby and decide my bladder cannot wait for the elevator trip to the room.

The bathroom is more plush than my palace in Monrovia. I will never see the Executive Mansion the same way again. Time for an upgrade, I think. As I begin, I realize this is to be a seated performance, so I close the door to one of the stalls and do what all creatures do. I am so caught up in the news of the day, that I fail to realize there is no paper in this stall when I am finished. Well, except for the newspaper I have with me. The thought of inevitability mortifies me. I can tell there is a man in the stall next to mine. Uncomfortably, I ask, "Excuse me please, sir, I appear to be out of paper. Would you be so kind to lend me some of yours?" I am not sure if the colloquialism is correct, so I quickly say "Not lend, per say, for I do not intend to return it..." Before I can finish my sentence, a voice says, "Of course." Slid under the divider wall between us is an ample amount of the white, soft paper. But to my surprise, under it is an aerial view of land somewhere. As I look closer, I see it is Monrovia. Before I can open my mouth, the voice says, "While you were sailing here, your land fabrication facility was completed. I see you have begun construction on your first tank units. I would suggest smaller, more mobile units. West Africa is too dense for tanks. Leave the tanks home to guard the capital. They can maneuver well against an amphibious landing. Get some artillery produced as well." He slides schematics for what is called the "M1917 GPF 155mm towed howitzer'. He continues, "It has a range of 30 km, twice what you currently can build." The voice is that of Major Tnarg.

After a few moments, I realize something. "Tnarg! These are top-secret AMERICAN designs!" Stoically, with no emotion, he responds, "It is superior to what we have in the Kremlin." I ask him, "How did you get these?" I hear his stall open, then footsteps to the sinks. The water runs and a towel is ruffled and thrown into the laundry box by the door. As he opens the door to leave, he simply says, "Cinderella is fine to watch, but my children are still in your country. Perhaps when they are with me, we will see it together. While I am here alone, I shall view works of art at the Pentagon instead..." He leaves.

By the time I finish my business and get out into the lobby, he is gone...
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D.B. Cooper
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Re: All hail Liberia, hail!

Post by D.B. Cooper »

<----addicted to learning, sorry.

From WIKI:
At the time, Walt Disney Productions had suffered from losing connections to the European film markets due the outbreak of World War II,
suffering from embarrassing box office disasters like Pinocchio, Fantasia, and Bambi, all of which would later become more successful with
several re-releases in theaters and on home video.

After two years in production with planning, collaboration, teamwork, and faith, Cinderella was finally released on February 15, 1950.
It turned out to be the greatest critical and commercial hit for the studio since Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937) and helped
reverse the studio's fortunes. It is considered one of the best American animated films ever made, as selected by the American Film Institute.

After looking back, yeah I wouldnt show off my Stalin Peace award very much lol
Ricent1
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Re: All hail Liberia, hail!

Post by Ricent1 »

(Great info, thanks!)
Ricent1
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Re: All hail Liberia, hail!

Post by Ricent1 »

August 1950:

American-designed artillery is rolling off the production line of our one and only land fab. I intersperse supply trucks because resupply levels are extremely low at our borders. Perhaps we can produce enough to build airbases and depots, but for now we will have to truck it to the front lines when we attack.

I have made a new ally, President Vargas of Brazil. He extended me an invitation to join the festivities of the world cup his country hosted last month. It was an experience I will never forget.

Vargas was a dictator until the end of the war. With the worldwide move towards democracy and independence, Vargas saw the handwriting on the wall. He relinquished power and held free elections. His popularity with the people soared as a result and he was elected president earlier this year.

This was the first World Cup since before the war and highly anticipated. The stadium here was quite clean and hospitable to the fans making the trip. One problem. Teams getting here to play. The Soviet bloc refused to participate and their relationship with the rest of the world continues to frost over. Qualifying nations are backing out as well as many nations' economies are still reeling from the effects of war. Even France had to cancel due to costs.

Yousef, my chief of security, wagered a month's salary on England, the favorite. You should have seen the look on his face when, of all nations, the U.S. beat the British 1-0 is in the preliminaries and sent them back to London. I considered giving him an advance on next month's salary, but an empty belly is an effective teacher. Maybe futbol will finally catch on in the States after such a fine showing by the US team.

Yousef was sent to me from my dear friend, Fourak, in Egypt. I recounted the Tnarg/bathroom encounter in New York to the king in a phone conversation after I got back. He said I should not travel alone without bodyguards. He said Yousef was his very best and would provide excellent protection. Yousef is 6'8", and probably 300 pounds. He wears camouflage and a black turban. I don't know his fighting skills yet as his mere presence intimidates everyone around him. My citizens call him "Ali Baba". I think I will get him one of those rounded, scimitar swords and a gold cap for his front tooth. Just to add to the mystique.

In an anticlimactic ending, host nation Brazil loses to Uruguay in the finals. I say goodbye to my new friend after a meal in his presidential dining room. Outwardly, he pretends to be saddened by his nation's loss, but Vargas is winning right now, on all fronts.

Yousef drives me back to our hotel, followed by his team in a second vehicle. I personally chose the 4 men to assist Yousef. Each man is from one of the larger tribes in Liberia. Williams, Nbote, Jennings, and Knibonu. Some of the tribes intermarried with former slaves and kept their European surnames. Having a diverse representation on my security detail sends the message that I trust all my citizens. It is also a benefit to have men close to me that know the political climate of their individual tribes and how they feel about their leader.

As we drive up to the valet, Yousef hands the key to the man and he follows me into the lobby. The other 4 are close behind. There is a restroom entrance as we approach the elevators. Yousef smiles and says, "do you need to use the facilities. I brought toilet paper with me." I smile and tell him that won't be necessary.

After exiting the elevator, we make our way down the narrow hallway to our rooms. The hotel gave the Crown Prince of Sweden the penthouse suite. I am not sure anyone working in the hotel even knows where Liberia is. I must say I am pleased Sweden was eliminated in the semi-finals.

Yousef heads to my door to unlock it. As the key touches the knob, the door swings open. Yousef, steps away, draws his pistol and steps toward me. With one arm he shoves me behind his large frame and whispers, "Stay behind me." The other 4, service revolvers drawn, prepare to enter the room in cover formation. Williams takes point and rushes the room with the other 3 fanning out as the door suddenly closes by an unseen force. Thuds, shortened cries of sudden pain, and crashing furniture emanate through the walls.

Yousef grabs my arm and says, "Time to go." We hurry down the narrow hall. Turning his head back, he says, "When we get to the elevator, I need you..." Suddenly a foot from a hotel room door trips Yousef and he stumbles to the floor. An older man, late 50s, early 60's, steps out into the hallway. His greying hair is short and flat on top. He's military. He's not Russian. Where's Tnarg when you need him?

Yousef tries to get to his feet but the assailant is to fast. He pushes Yousef before he can get his balance and my security chief leaves his massive imprint in the hallway drywall. Yousef spins to attack, but the grey-haired soldier slides a foot behind Yousef, pivots on his left hand which plants itself on the carpet, and wheels his other leg in an enormous arc and sends his heel crashing into Yousef's nose. A resounding thud echoes down the hall as my protector crashes hard to the ground.

I turn to head back to the other 4 of my security team. As I approach the open doorway, I see Nbote's leg near the door. He is unconscious, or worse. I hear groaning and coughing as a single man, exits the room towards me. He is younger, perhaps 25, but with the same military hairstyle. In his hand is the ice bucket that I was chilling a bottle of Dom Perignon I was saving for a nightcap. Instead of champagne, 4 Liberian-issue pistols were shoved in, muzzle first.

From behind me, I hear the older one say, "Good Evening, Mr. President." I turn to see him blocking my only escape and closing fast. Stuttering, shaking like a someone with malaria, I ask, "Who are you? We do not negotiate with terrorists. My country will not pay you a ransom for my return." Smiling, he lifts his hand in a peaceful manner in order to settle me down and says, "We are not here to kidnap you." They speak English, but in a dialect I don't recognize. "Where are you from?", I ask. The younger one behind me says, "Georgia." Puzzled, I inquire, "The Soviet satellite state?"

"No...Camp Benning, Georgia. Home of the US Army rangers."

Oh no, the artillery schematics. "Listen, I did not order the theft of top-secret weapons plans. You have to believe me. I was in a restroom..."

The older one interrupts me, "We know, Tnarg filled us in. That's sort of why we are here." He motions for the 3 of us to go back into the room. The 4 inside are now sitting on the floor with various limbs cuffed to furniture to keep them in place. Yousef has stopped the bleeding from his nostrils and is trying to stand. I tell him to stand down. His pride is hurt but he sees the wisdom in not provoking the 2 Americans further.

After everyone is in the room and things settle down, the younger man begins untying my team. Meanwhile, the older man, a colonel by the name of John Gibson Van Houten makes introductions. "I am the commander of elite, ranger training at Camp Benning. My associate here is Lt. Ralph Puckett, the commander of 8th Army Ranger Company." Puckett nods at me. I nod back. (Probably a good idea.) He continues, "Our mutual friend, Major Tnarg, has afforded us an opportunity to assist your military in the development of a Rangers program of your own. We leave with you tonight on an Air Force transport."

My team, bruised but okay, climb aboard the American cargo plane with me. On the way home, the colonel says he wishes to begin training our troops right away. I look at him, the young lieutenant, and then over at my security force. Looking back, I say, "I have your first 5 trainees already in mind."
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Last edited by Ricent1 on Dec 17 2014, edited 2 times in total.
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D.B. Cooper
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Re: All hail Liberia, hail!

Post by D.B. Cooper »

Hoorah!!! The finest US soliders in the world must pass through Benning. Your men should be in great hands!!
Thanks for including some of my home states proud history in your story...

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The U.S .Army Infantry School at Fort Benning has confirmed its place as the premier school of arms, developing such military
leaders as five-star generals Omar Bradley, George Marshall, and Dwight D. Eisenhower. George Patton and Colin Powell also
trained at Fort Benning.

Fort Benning and The Maneuver Center provide Agile, Trained, Adaptive, and Ready Soldiers and Leaders for an Army at War,
while developing Future requirements for the Individual Soldier and the Maneuver Force, and providing a World Class Quality
of Life for our Soldiers and Army Families! Its mission has been to "produce the world's finest combat infantrymen."

It is a power projection platform, and possesses the capability to deploy combat-ready forces by air, rail, and highway. Fort Benning
is the home of the United States Army Maneuver Center of Excellence, the United States Army Armor School, United States Army
Infantry School, the Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation (formerly known as the School of the Americas), elements
of the 75th Ranger Regiment, 3rd Brigade – 3rd Infantry Division, and many other additional tenant units.

The Armor School educates, trains, and inspires America's Armored Soldiers and Leaders for a lifetime of service to the Nation; prepared
to close with & destroy the enemy by fire and maneuver as part of a combined arms team

The Infantry School transforms civilians into disciplined Infantrymen that possess the Army Values, fundamental Soldier skills, physical
fitness, character, confidence, commitment, and the Warrior Ethos to become adaptive and flexible Infantrymen ready to accomplish the
mission of the Infantry.

The 4th Infantry Division, first of four divisions committed by the United States to the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, reorganized and
completed its basic training at Fort Benning (Sand Hill and Harmony Church areas) from October 1950 to May 1951, when it deployed to
Germany for five years

Fort Benning was the site of the Scout dog school of the United States during the Vietnam War, where the dogs trained to detect ambushes
in enemy terrain got their initial training, before being transferred to Vietnam for further advanced courses
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chainsawdaz
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Re: All hail Liberia, hail!

Post by chainsawdaz »

Holy crap, this AAR is awesome! Makes me want to play Liberia now XD
Ricent1
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Location: Sebastian, Florida

Re: All hail Liberia, hail!

Post by Ricent1 »

May 1951:

It has been nine months that Lt. Puckett has been training our new recruits. We now have six complete Ranger companies: Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie companies are positioned in Monrovia for now. Delta, Echo and Fox Trot companies are re-locating northeast in a small village near the West African border. We also have a tank battalion in Monrovia but we haven't thought of a name for her yet.

I've promoted Yousef to General of the Army. (His salary increase allows him to bet on soccer matches now.) He is a good leader and is respected by the men, but he still insists on accompanying me whenever I leave the country. Col. Nbote takes over command whenever he is gone. There is a photo in my office of General Yousef Ali Mohammed and Colonel van Houten inspecting the troops. I am in the background without a tie, and my suit coat is unbuttoned as it was an extremely warm day. I have never been photogenic. I hate pictures that contain me, but Yousef insisted it be hung for visitors to see. I have no problem denying anything to subordinates. But Yousef is family now. It seems Asatu's younger sister, Euphemia, took a liking to him. Yousef is a good husband and cherishes Euphemia. They are expecting there first child this winter.

The day I hung the photo, a package came for me. Addressed to me, with a note attached which read, "from Tnarg". I opened it to find detailed Soviet schematics and recent research breakthroughs, all military-based. We now have the ability to design and produce fighter planes, frigates, and submarines. Not WWI discards either, these are state-of-the-art. I don't know how Tnarg gets these, nor do I want to know. Plausible Deniability. It seems to now be a permanent part of my relationship with the shadowy Major.

I have begun construction on a large sea port to precede a naval fabrication plant. I will need to command the coastline if I want those oil deposits in the shallows west of Abidjan. The Liberian Air Force will need to wait. I must say I half expect an admiral or commodore to burst into my office, incapacitate my security detail in a blur of karate kicks, and propose plans to train Liberian sailors so thoroughly as to take on the British fleet and be victorious.

The differences between paranoia and caution have become blurred to me these days...
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