Chapter One Thousand Eight Hundred Fifty-Four
1st July 1968
Krakow, provisional capital of Galicia.
When Olli had last been out to his farm, he had seen how the fields lay fallow and anything of value had been taken elsewhere for safe keeping. Nele had moved into relative safety of Krakow and the children had been sent to Kurt’s house in Prague. The entire place had felt empty and more than anything, he wanted to pay the Government in Warsaw back for this, with interest and he had been given an embarrassment of riches when it came to the mean by which he would carry that out, if it came down to it.
At the stroke of midnight, the states of Galicia and Ruthenia had formally declared independence from the Kingdom of Poland. Along with this, they formally petitioned for recognition from the Reichstag and the Emperor. It was something that Olli had argued against, because for the Government in Warsaw it was like waving a cape in front of an enraged bull and he wasn’t sure if the Galician Provisional Government understood just how precarious their situation really was.
When Warsaw learned of this, they would put all of their differences aside and come charging south with everything they had. Throughout the spring and early summer Olli had taken advantage of the bad roads that had become soup with the thaw and the piecemeal manner in which the Polish Army had committed troops. He had never thought that he would be thankful for Warsaw’s miserly attitude when it came to public works or the snail’s pace which entrenched military bureaucracy operated, but it was what had saved them so far.
The Provisional Government was placing a lot of faith in what had recently been renamed the Galician and Ruthenian Landwehr Divisions to hold off the Poles until… That was the problem. No one seemed to know what the endgame was and as much as Olli had tried to get them to think about that, they weren’t interested. Instead, they were debating the text of the constitution. The last time Olli had been in the church hall that was being used by the Provisional Council, he had been asked what he thought about the Head of State, should they have a King or President? Olli had turned around and said that they should have every able-bodied man with a rifle or machine pistol in their hands because all of this debating would be academic if the Warsaw Government had them lined up and shot.
“In the event of a real emergency, every man will take up arms as you are suggesting” The Head of the Council had said, “This body does thank you for dedication and calls for unity in the meantime General Bauer.”
“Major” Olli had corrected him but got ignored, like always.
Now a few weeks later, Olli was staring at a map of the region trying to figure out where the natural lines of defense were and how to exploit them. The raw numbers, of men and supplies, were on pieces of paper that were scattered all over the floor of the warehouse that he had been using as a headquarters. He had made sure that the Poles knew exactly where it was because he had a few surprises in store for them if they were stupid enough to storm the building, because he had no intention of coming back once he left this evening. There would be some Polish Commandos with confused expressions on their faces as they tried to explain to Saint Peter what had happened.
The rest of Galicia had been as prepared as Olli could make it. There were certain things that he had no shortage of. Earth moving equipment and the precursors for explosives being two of the most notable examples and he had made full use of them. He had put to use every trick he could remember using or having been on the receiving end of across four continents. Railroad tracks and roads that ended abruptly or were heavily mined, misleading maps that had been produced by the thousands that left for any advancing army to find, even classics such as caltrops and scare cats were widely spread throughout the countryside. As it had turned out, producing landmines and an updated version of the Panzerfaust 60 was well within the abilities of local industry.
Another welcome development was the recent news that Ukrainian, Silesian, and Bohemian volunteers had been coming into the region bolstering their ranks. While not yet as close to parity, as Olli would have liked they were no longer as badly outnumbered as they had been a few months earlier.
Now all Olli could do was wait, make plans, and hope that someone in Warsaw or Berlin was able to have a moment of clarity long enough to see a way out this mess before anyone else got killed.
Outside Warsaw, Poland
They were finally taking the gloves off, was how the Prime Minister had put it in a radio address just a few minutes ago. Imagine a guest who overstays their welcome, sticks you with the bill for whatever tab they have run up, when you get fed up and ask them to leave, they act like they own the place. That was how it had been put. The address had concluded with the Premier saying that they had a mandate from their ancestors throughout all of history who had payed in blood so that Poland would never be partitioned by foreign powers again.
Bogdan Gajos was one of thousands who were headed south to serve the eviction notice.
Looking ahead, Bogdan could see them as one long mass on the road heading to Krakow. Somewhere along the way someone had broken out the red and white flags of Poland and they started sing patriotic songs that had long fallen into disuse as their country had been dragged into ever deeper involvement in the German Empire. This wasn’t just notice on those who were trying to steal away Lesser Poland, but the larger Empire as well. The time for acquiescence was over.
1st July 1968
Krakow, provisional capital of Galicia.
When Olli had last been out to his farm, he had seen how the fields lay fallow and anything of value had been taken elsewhere for safe keeping. Nele had moved into relative safety of Krakow and the children had been sent to Kurt’s house in Prague. The entire place had felt empty and more than anything, he wanted to pay the Government in Warsaw back for this, with interest and he had been given an embarrassment of riches when it came to the mean by which he would carry that out, if it came down to it.
At the stroke of midnight, the states of Galicia and Ruthenia had formally declared independence from the Kingdom of Poland. Along with this, they formally petitioned for recognition from the Reichstag and the Emperor. It was something that Olli had argued against, because for the Government in Warsaw it was like waving a cape in front of an enraged bull and he wasn’t sure if the Galician Provisional Government understood just how precarious their situation really was.
When Warsaw learned of this, they would put all of their differences aside and come charging south with everything they had. Throughout the spring and early summer Olli had taken advantage of the bad roads that had become soup with the thaw and the piecemeal manner in which the Polish Army had committed troops. He had never thought that he would be thankful for Warsaw’s miserly attitude when it came to public works or the snail’s pace which entrenched military bureaucracy operated, but it was what had saved them so far.
The Provisional Government was placing a lot of faith in what had recently been renamed the Galician and Ruthenian Landwehr Divisions to hold off the Poles until… That was the problem. No one seemed to know what the endgame was and as much as Olli had tried to get them to think about that, they weren’t interested. Instead, they were debating the text of the constitution. The last time Olli had been in the church hall that was being used by the Provisional Council, he had been asked what he thought about the Head of State, should they have a King or President? Olli had turned around and said that they should have every able-bodied man with a rifle or machine pistol in their hands because all of this debating would be academic if the Warsaw Government had them lined up and shot.
“In the event of a real emergency, every man will take up arms as you are suggesting” The Head of the Council had said, “This body does thank you for dedication and calls for unity in the meantime General Bauer.”
“Major” Olli had corrected him but got ignored, like always.
Now a few weeks later, Olli was staring at a map of the region trying to figure out where the natural lines of defense were and how to exploit them. The raw numbers, of men and supplies, were on pieces of paper that were scattered all over the floor of the warehouse that he had been using as a headquarters. He had made sure that the Poles knew exactly where it was because he had a few surprises in store for them if they were stupid enough to storm the building, because he had no intention of coming back once he left this evening. There would be some Polish Commandos with confused expressions on their faces as they tried to explain to Saint Peter what had happened.
The rest of Galicia had been as prepared as Olli could make it. There were certain things that he had no shortage of. Earth moving equipment and the precursors for explosives being two of the most notable examples and he had made full use of them. He had put to use every trick he could remember using or having been on the receiving end of across four continents. Railroad tracks and roads that ended abruptly or were heavily mined, misleading maps that had been produced by the thousands that left for any advancing army to find, even classics such as caltrops and scare cats were widely spread throughout the countryside. As it had turned out, producing landmines and an updated version of the Panzerfaust 60 was well within the abilities of local industry.
Another welcome development was the recent news that Ukrainian, Silesian, and Bohemian volunteers had been coming into the region bolstering their ranks. While not yet as close to parity, as Olli would have liked they were no longer as badly outnumbered as they had been a few months earlier.
Now all Olli could do was wait, make plans, and hope that someone in Warsaw or Berlin was able to have a moment of clarity long enough to see a way out this mess before anyone else got killed.
Outside Warsaw, Poland
They were finally taking the gloves off, was how the Prime Minister had put it in a radio address just a few minutes ago. Imagine a guest who overstays their welcome, sticks you with the bill for whatever tab they have run up, when you get fed up and ask them to leave, they act like they own the place. That was how it had been put. The address had concluded with the Premier saying that they had a mandate from their ancestors throughout all of history who had payed in blood so that Poland would never be partitioned by foreign powers again.
Bogdan Gajos was one of thousands who were headed south to serve the eviction notice.
Looking ahead, Bogdan could see them as one long mass on the road heading to Krakow. Somewhere along the way someone had broken out the red and white flags of Poland and they started sing patriotic songs that had long fallen into disuse as their country had been dragged into ever deeper involvement in the German Empire. This wasn’t just notice on those who were trying to steal away Lesser Poland, but the larger Empire as well. The time for acquiescence was over.
Last edited: