A Brits, a Yankee, a French and a Hun in Gallia

After one of the most epic, devastating, badass, time consuming, wasteful battle [and serie of chapters] had finished, Princess Cornelia returned safe, thanks to the effort of Squad 7 and 1. On top of that, Rangdriz was also successfully defended by the brave men and women of the Nameless and the Federation "Squad E".

As such, the commanders of all Squads, even the Federation ones, were invited to receive the Military Order of Rangdriz, Gallia highest military award. Some Fans would ask why they would receive such award, rather than the game Gallian Medal of Honor. The answer is…. In this Fanfiction Gallia is the Netherlands. That is the joke.

Welkin, Faldio, Squire, Brian, Edmond, Hans, Jack, Mikhail, Claude, Kurt, Sovietwomble, Boris, Phlydaily and Scatsbury lined up in the royal palace throne room, with Borg standing before them with a solemn look. « Heroes of Rangdriz, step forward. » he said, with all the lieutenants walking forward.

« For excellency in valour and deed, even though some of you DID participate in an invasion attempt of Gallia, you are all hereby awarded this honour. The almighty Military Order of Rangdriz. » he declared.

He then turned to Cornelia. « Your highness, please bestow these medals to these lieutenants. » he said with a bow. Her face was emotionless. « Gladly. » was all she said. She placed the medals on the chest of each and every one of the lieutenants.

« Guys, I'm going to be completely honest, we should limit combined brave operations. Otherwise we're going to ruin Gallia diamond deposits! » Phlydaily jokingly said. « Gallia running out of diamonds? With the Congo? Nah mate. I think you're reaching the land of fantasy there. » Squire commented.

« Juuust don't let our Federation friends heard about the atrocities in the Congo Free State. » Borg commented. « I'm beginning to believe you folks aren't as innocent as I imaged. » Claude said disappointed. « Anyway, with your act of courage, Gallia is happy to announce the return of cordial relations with your homeland. » the prime minister said attempting to change the subject.

« I say, the Federation kidnapping a member of Gallian royalty, if not the only one, minutes after signing a treaty of non-aggression. While this does indeed remind me of the Molotov-Ribbentrop pact, at the very least the Jerries invaded after two years. » Squire commented.

Borg started to sweat hard. « Uhhh…. yeah! that…... is very peculiar! And to believe the nation has such nice…. soldiers, he he he… » he commented scratching the back of his head. « And I'm certain that you, Mr. Borg, are completely uninterested in the plans of the kidnapping. » Squire commented again.

« But of course. It is so wonderful for people to understand my innocence. » he kept on sweating. « What do you mean? You sound like a wonderful person. Do people actually suspect you of betrayal to your nation? » Hans asked.

« Well, you know us Gallians. The second we enter into contact with another nation, the one who rule at the moment is defined as the foreign nation puppet. Really, I don't understand why our people sometimes are so xenophobic. We should have lots of allies, just like in the past! » he exclaimed.

« Ja. En kijk waar het ons heeft gebracht. [Yeah. And look where it got us.] » Welkin muttered. « And I'm also perfectly sure that our beloved princess is perfectly safe at the moment. After all, the Federation folks are the French, not some…communist Serbians…so we can be sure that there will be no assassination attempt! » Squire proclaimed.

After hearing these words, Claude sweated too, and started to draw back his pistol, which he had half extracted. « Also, mid I ask you, why is the medieval barbarian getting a medal as well? Isn't he a simple private at best? » Sovietwomble asked.

« I wish I knew! He just…came here casually and asked for a medal. I have no idea how he convinced me so well. » Borg responded, scratching his beard in confusion. « [ I have level 100 speech.] » Scatsbury responded.

An awkward silence followed. « ANYWAY, I'd say that, if nothing out of the ordinary was to happen right now, the ceremony is over. Your highness, would you be so kind to grace us with a few words? » Borg attempted to break the ice.

The princess remained silent for a few seconds. « For those of you who fight for our fatherland, I hope your allegiance stands firm evermore. » she proclaimed. « Well is ether that or a nice Gulag vacation, and I'd have to question the healthcare in these things. » Squire commented.

« And for you who are fighting the threat of the Comintern under a different banner, I wish you the greatest of luck. » she then said, turning to Squad E. « We're going to need it if Phly doesn't get something other than a tankette. » Sovietwomble commented.

Then, the various Squads departed for the main door, with the exception of Scatsbury, who turned around to see Cornelia once again. As he looked at the Gallian princess, he started to laugh as he had just heard a joke, gaining perplex looks from both her and Borg.

« Is…there something funny, soldier? » Borg asked, raising an eyebrow slightly annoyed. « So those unicorn things she's wearing…where can I get those? I need people to laugh at me. » Scatsbury bluntly asked after he stopped laughing.

Cornelia widened her eyes in shock for the daring question. « It's Gallian Royalty Tradition! » she exclaimed angrily. « It's the freaking 30's! I'm pretty sure Hitler just invaded Poland or some shit! » Scats exclaimed.

« Sorry buddy. You're early by four years. » Mikhail commented. « Wonder what was going on in 35 in our world... » Jack commented. « Oh, nothing important, some colonial dispute regarding the independence of Ethiopia from the Italians. » Squire responded.

« We won't let the Italians get away with this! We'll put some minor sanctions against them! That will show them! » Edmond exclaimed. « Preety sure we supported the Ethiopians more than you two did. » Hans commented.

« Well it's no wonder that the Italians got away with that. I mean, getting help from the Jerries? Despicable. I mean, why not ask from the British! We would never let an ally down. Understandably, we might not save them at the moment, but after several years, we would finally liberate these poor innocent people from the tyranny of fascism!... By letting the communists do it. » Squire exclaimed.

« Jeez. No gaw damn wonder ye Europoor got yerself in an Iron Curtain! » Brian exclaimed. « Now listen here, yankee. Not everyone has a massive body of water protecting their infrastructure from enemy harm. Some have just small bodies of water which prevent invasions. » Squire scolded the American.


The following day, commander Varrot, after politely knocking, entered Welkin office with the sight of Welkin, Alicia, Faldio, Isara, Rosie, Largo, Squire, Bill, Brian, Edmond, Hans, Jack and Mikhail completely wasted on the floor

In the hand of some of the soldiers were cannabis joint. She sighed hard at the sight. « This is embarrassing. » she commented. She then looked at the soldiers once more. « Hope I didn't keep you waiting for our historical tradition. » she then said, as she took a joint from her pocket.

« Whaaaat? Don't worry, man. Y-you know, I don't understand why, like, why we are always in a hurry. It's not natural, you know? » Welkin commented, completely stoned. « Well jolly good. [Like, this IS anime Netherlands.] » Squire commented, with a slower tone.


A few minutes later

« Like, am I the only one worried sick about how shaky Gallia is, man? » Faldio commented, stoned as hell. « Whaaat? Ye guys ain't THAT bad. Like, there are those frog losers in the south, but that's all! » Brian exclaimed.

« Like, come on man, take a break from insulting, like, the French or whatever. They only lost, like, in six weeks, yes. But they fought in Africa too or some shit, or so they keep telling me. » Varrot commented.

« I-I feel like we're, like, some small fish, ya know? » Faldio motioned with his hand to represent the size of the fish, « And, like, everyone is some sort of shark or some shit. » he continued.

« Like, you worry too much bro. they're just Slavs. Russian Slavs. Like, Polish Slavs are ok, but like Russian Slavs are losers, man. » Hans commented. « Like, thanks for the consideration man. » Mikhail commented.

Then, general Damon walked inside the room, looking at the completely stoned members of Squad 7. « Oh, hey bro! » Isara exclaimed seeing the general, who smiled amused. « Why, isn't it a peculiar sight to see the militias. » he said.

He then paused a second. « Mind if I join? » he asked happily, pulling out a joint. « Sure. Like, unless you're a communist, everyone is welcome to honour Gallian traditions. » Largo casually said.


Some more minutes later.

« Guys. Like, I'm stoned as shit! » Damon exclaimed. « You're telling me, bro. » Rosie commented. A few seconds of silence followed. « Guys…why do I hate your guts so much? » Damon asked, as if he was having a stoned existential crisis.

« Like, because you suck at, like, everything you do, man? » Bill commented. « Well, I guess these are some points, man. » Damon responded. « Like, have you considered not being an asshat, man? » Edmond commented.

« Sorry bro, it's like, my nature or some shit. » Damon responded. Then, why the fuck not, Cornelia herself entered the room and saw the scene. She said nothing. Instead, she smiled and pulled off a joint too from her dress…somehow.


You know the drill by now.

« Henceforth, by royal decree, I, like, we need more trees. Like, we need to grow more forest, man. » the princess said. « Yeah man, we need to protect the green man! » Bill exclaimed with a low tone.

« Heey, bro, like, you sound like a hippy. » Brian said. « Like, what's a hippy? » Cornelia asked. « Like cool dudes, man. Cool dudes. » Brian responded.

Then the shift of attention turned to Welkin. « Hey, hey bros! Check this shit out! » he said as stoned as a stone.


Industrial complex of Fouzen.

General Gregor was reading the papiers regarding the operations in the newly built Darcsen concentration camp, when he received a call. « Privet. Soyuz Vostochnoyevropeyskikh Korolevstv-samoderzhtsev, takzhe boleye izvestnyy kak Imperiya, takzhe boleye izvestnyy kak Tsarstvo, Glavnoye upravleniye lagerey Fuzena, boleye izvestnoye kak «GULAG», mog by pridumat' chto-to luchsheye sam pod komandovaniyem generala Bertol'da. Gregor, data 22 iyunya 1935 goda, cherez 30 let posle reformatorskoy revolyutsii 1905 goda. Chem ya mogu vam pomoch'? [Hello. Union of the East European Autocrat Kingdoms, also better known as the Empire, also better known as the Tsardom, Fouzen Main Directorate of Camps, better known as "Gulags", could have come up with something better myself, under the command of general Berthold Gregor, date 22 of June 1935, 30 years after the reforming revolution of 1905. How may I help you?] » he responded the phone serious.

« Heeeeyyyyy bbbbrrrrooooo…... » Welkin said stoned. Gregor remained silent for a few seconds. « Heeeeeyyyyyy…. » he responded confused. « Like, I heard you guys have shit commanders. Want me to, like, switch side so you can have a bit of a challenge, man? » Welkin said, and a roar of laughter could be heard on the other side of the phone.

Gregor remained silent for a while; his eyes widened in comedic shock. « HOW DID YOU GET THIS NUMBER!? » he exploded in rage, before slamming his phone down embarrassed. In the other room, what seemed to be a man in his early-to-mid thirties with the same dark hair and eyes as all Darcsens was giggling. He was very tall, standing at 187cm. He had his right eye closed, and he a flat hat, a red-and-yellow shawl, a blue denim shirt, grey trousers and brown boots.


Ok. Are we done? Have we all destroyed what little dignity there was in this fanfiction? Good.

Now back to the story.

After that…peculiar piece of history that we prooobably didn't need, Squad 7 was called for a meeting. « So how was the traditional Gallian gedoogbeleid? » Welkin asked the Allied soldiers.

« Well that surely was an experience. Wonder if this means that Damon is going to be any less…well, ungently toward us. » Squire commented. Welkin sighed. « I doubt it. Three days at most and he'll forget this meeting ever happened. » he said.

« Where do you even get this stuff? » Mikhail asked. « Please, we have traded with Asia since the day we were born as a nation. We know everything about plants! And spices. And cotton. Technically we birthed the United States of Vinland. » Alicia proudly commented.

« Jeez. Never new us 'Muricans were created by a bunch of cheese heads folks. » Brian commented. « Well technically you were. We just were to take over their territory. » Squire commented.

« And did we also help in the ensuing revolution? » Rosie asked, receiving a slight comedic glare from Squire. « Unfortunately, yes I'm afraid. Although it was more of a co-belligerency thing, to be honest. » Squire responded.

« Yup. And who made the gunpowder necessary to support the rebels, exactly? » Isara asked with a confident smile, gaining a small growl from Rosie. « Well this sure was a good conversation, but it wasn't the main reason for this meeting. » Welkin stated.

He then pointed at a map of Gallia. « our next target is the liberation of the Limburg province. Main objective, Fouzen. » Welkin proclaimed. « Ah looks like we're retaking the Rhineland's from these filthy Bolsheviks. » Hans commented.

« Well it would surely help our productive lines. I mean we're even lacking basic equipment. » Bill commented, as he pulled off a flintlock pistol. « I had to go on the parade on my pyjama because we lacked factories, for crying out loud! We could really use more industries. » Isara stated.

« You're not the only one kid. » Largo sighed at the embarrassing memories of several soldiers, Darcsens or not, having to march either with civilian clothes or their freaking pyjama. « So, what's the plan? » Rosie asked.

« We could try a surprise attack in a heavily forested area. I mean it worked a bit last times against the Western Allies. » Hans proposed. « And what? Having our defences collapse and sending tanks on bicycles roads? We need to win this war, not turning in a hot site for a future Cold War, Fritz. » Bill commented.

« Jokes on both of you! As we're currently standing, the Edelweiss and a couple of other tanks is all that remains in the Gallian Armoured Formations! » Welkin exclaimed, before starting to slightly sob.

« Have we considered armoured cars? I recalled you chumps had a lot of those back in the day, especially when serving against the German empire. » Squire asked. « You mean against bloody T-34? What are we? The Italian army? » Jack commented.

« Regarding leadership we're not that far off. At least as a general level. » Squire responded. « What we WILL do, on the other hand, is to break up into smaller squads and set up a perimeter around the city. And I have some good news. It would seem like we won't have to face that many tanks in the region » Welkin continued his plan.

« That's good! » Isara said happy. « On the other hand…we have to deal with the iron fist of the Empire itself, which is essentially a big ass train armed with any sort of weaponry this world could imagine. » Welkin continued.

« That's bad. » Isara said less happy. « Meh. Should not be a problem. We can destroy it in less than a year. » Hans commented. Welkin then showed the image of the armoured train.

« Jeesus, and I thought the Bathomys was bad enough. » Squire exclaimed at the sight. « And…how do we deal with this… monstrosity of a vehicles? » Largo asked. « Way ahead of you. We have a secret weapon to deal with this machine. And it's a- » Welkin said before being interrupted by the door…exploding?

« YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAW! Looks like it's time to kick sum Commie asses! » the man, a guy with a long ass beard and a Winchester Model 1897 exclaimed.

« I'm sorry, but…who are you exactly? » Welkin asked shocked at the sight. « Private Michael here to kick sum gaw damn Ruskies. Damn knew they were just as bad as the krauts! » the man exclaimed.

« We really need to discuss things regarding discipline in this facility. » Hans asked. « [Kind of hard when your army is essentially composed of what you would get when scrapping the barrel in Hoi4.] » Squire commented.

« Well…sure thing…. we could use the extra hand…guns really. Better later than never I guess. » Welkin commented. « Nah. For a Yankee is quite surprisingly early. This is truly out of character » Bill commented. « Also…what are you using? » Hans asked in disgust.

« Gaw damn Winchester shotgun Jerry. They don' call it "Win"chester fur nuthin'! » Michael exclaimed. « A shotgun? Sorry, are we…are we robbing banks now? Are we "on a heist"? » Squire asked dubious.

« [Well it's still better that waitin a gaw damn turn to shoot sum bad fellas!] » the American exclaimed. « [No. No, no it's not. Trust me, it's not. It might sound cool and everything you know, with car chases and big bags of money, but the novelty wears off very fast.] » Alicia said.

« [Soooo… don't rob banks is what yer sain'?] » Michael asked. « [No. Just… do it in a random Lupin the third game or something.] » Squire then said. « Anyway, what I was saying, is that we have some fifth columnists supporting our war efforts against the Imperials. » Welkin exclaimed.

« Well jolly good. What appears to be these fifth columnist chumps? Ukrainians who want to avenge the thousands who died because of the various famines? Baltic folks who want freedom from Imperial tyranny? » Squire asked.

Welkin remained silent for a few seconds, knowing that there was going to be an…awkward moment with Hans. « It's…Darcsens. From a… » he then sighed, « Gulag…... ».

This was not going to end well. Rosie sweated hard with the sight of a pissed off Hans. « Grab the Edelweiss keys. » the German said, as he pulled a Luger from his uniform. « Well that surely is an effective fifth column all right. And who might be the leader of this group? » Squire asked.

« He goes by the codename DCO. » Welkin responded. « DCO what? » Brian asked confused. « Darcsen Combat Organization. » was Welkin response. « What's this? The Warsaw Ghetto Uprising? » Mikhail asked.

« Uh no offense but…is that it? A darkhair is our best shot to retake that city? » Rosie asked, regretting it immediately when receiving a glare from Hans. « Urgh. Just drop it already. » Largo said annoyed.

« No offense to you, sir. » he then apologized to Hans. « I mean, we're soldiers. We'll do our best out there. If the orders say work with a Darcsen, we do. » he then continued. Bill raised an eyebrow at the comment.

« Really? I mean, you're actually saying this? Weren't you one of the Dutch uncles who had little to no respect toward Welkin? Your bloody superior? » Bill asked. Largo shrugged his shoulders. « one thing is to be xenophobic about a race which the last evil deed was in the middle ages. The other is accepting what seemed to be an incompetent kid to be in command of a militia squad. With actual veterans. Like at Ypres. » Largo explained, shaking in disgust at the last part.

« You just had to remind me of the attack of the dead men, didn't you? » Rosie said on the verge of vomiting. « Well I'm sure that the Empire won't know who hit them. » Squire proclaimed.


However, the current battle between Comintern and Gallian troops showed quite the opposite. « They knew what hit them! Oh god they knew what hit them! » Squire exclaimed in absolute regret.

« How did they even know? These plans were to be classified! Unless the Imperials broke our codes? » Hans asked in the ensuing battle, while aiming his Tiger tank at the Imperials. « Yeah! Who could had possibly- » Welkin was going to ask, before having a flashback.


The squad was about to depart for their next mission, when a small truck with several Asian soldiers. « Greetings! We're the Tonkinese Rifles! Heard you folks are going to liberate a major industrial region! » the commander of the group exclaimed.

« Why yes, actually. Are you by any chance about to support us in the campaign? » Welkin asked. « Nope. Sorry. The French gave us other orders. May we know what industrial region you're liberating? How many men? When and where will you attack? » the Vietnamese man asked.

Welkin raised an eyebrow. « You sure are asking a lot of question, sir. I'm starting to not trust you. » Welkin said serious. Everyone in the squad had a similar expression. « When this is done, how about some quality joints? We're better with opium to be honest, but this works too. » the Vietnamese responded by pulling out a joint.

« But then again, Jesus always said to trust your neighbour! » Welkin exclaimed happy, with the mood of all the members of the squad happy. « Maybe we should become less xenophobic. » Rosie commented.


Back in the present.

« Godverdomme! Voor een keer dat ik niet xenofoob was! [God damn it! For once that I wasn't xenophobic!] » the woman exclaimed. « Now now chumps, we must not be afraid. Look at the bright side! At the very least the battle up to now is a draw. » Squire comforted the squad. « Listen, I had enough of stationary warfare back in the day, I don't need another Passendale! » Largo exclaimed, as he took aim once again with his Lance.

« Well, at the very least the Russians are as likely to move as a Frenchman living next door to a brothel. » Bill commented. « I do love me some women, you know? » Edmond responded. Suddenly, Squire tank was almost badly damaged by an Imperial heavy tank, or T-90.

« God, the way they are going you'd think there was a war on. » Squire commented. « Jesus, ye playin' this redcoat accent or ye actually talk like that? » Brian exclaimed. Suddenly, however, one of the Imperial soldiers jumped on the ground and started to vomit. Hard.

The whole battle stopped because of the sight. Squire simply sighed. « Now now, I know that there had been some rumours regarding our cartridges, but we can assure! They are made of inorganic material! So, there is no need to worry about any pig glue or something. » Squire proclaimed.

« What do you mean? I like pork! » a random Imperial soldier exclaimed. « I believe he's referring to the Central Asian troops at your disposals. » Bill responded. « Uhhh…not really, filthy capitalistic…well…pig. They are busy with the Federation. We need the troops to encircle the divisions at Tsarograd. » an Imperial sergeant told the squad.

« "Ja wirklich?" Wieder mit dieser Scheiße? [Really? Again, with this shit?] » Hans asked himself. « Anyway, prepare to- » a Soviet soldier was about to say, before his weapon disintegrated to pieces.

Many other weapons had started to disintegrate themselves. Many Soviets and Imperials soon found themselves without any equipment. « Oh…Blyat. » was all they said, before a volley of fire obliterated them.

« Ah-ha! It would seem that the Soviets had attempted to truly signify the term "quantity over quality"! Anyway, carry on, chop chop! » Squire exclaimed, as he kept advancing with his Churchill at a slow pace.

Then, suddenly, a massive explosion occurred which took out several Imperial and Soviets. In the middle of the crater was a group of four men, all with a badge with the star of David on it. « Shalom you Nazi bastards! Jew Attack Force 1 to the rescue. » the commander exclaimed.

« We would be a kickass Israeli movie. » another man then said. « It doesn't matter at the moment. What matter is to save our brothers in this Lager! » yet another man exclaimed. Hans paused for a while.

« Sorry…wrong mission. We're here to save Darcsens. Which are essentially persecuted Germans. We're also fighting the Soviet Union and…well, let's say that I served in the Nazi army. » Hans tried to contain the awkwardness.

« Does that mean that they won't support the Arabs anymore? » the second man asked rather innocently. « Tally-ho! It would seem like the Palestine mandate army has finally came to our aid! » Squire exclaimed.

« Israeli! We're not Muslims, pal! » the commander of the small squad exclaimed, before effortlessly dodging a bullet like a badass. The third man then picked his knife and gutted a Soviet. « Would you believe it! I've chopped a Bolshevik and I'm still sober despite all the Vodka! » he exclaimed.

« Huh. [Wonder if they could be our Mary Sues. Every story has one of those these days.] » Bill commented. « [Well they sure are fine bodies of men.] » Squire commented, before getting a bullet in the chest.

« Uhh mate, that doesn't look good. » Bill commented. Squire then opened his uniform. « Not to worry. This thin piece of tin has saved my life. Anyway, back to the battle, shall we? After all, all these socialists are aimless attacking us while failing to make an impression! » Squire responded.

However, from a nearby house, hell came upon our brave soldiers. « Uhh Squire? » Welkin asked on the radio. « Yeeeees? » Squire responded. « We're having a sort of situation with a house. » Welkin told the British.

« Well how bad is it? Is it manageable? » Squire asked back. « God damn it it's Pavlov house again! » Hans exclaimed. « Give up capitalistic pigs! You will never breach in this house! » one of the Imperial soldiers exclaimed defiant.

« Well in that case, I'm afraid that we will need drastic measures. Hey Yankees! » Squire exclaimed. « What? » both Michael and Brian asked. « I heard that these friendly chumps say that America should be British again! Along the fact that Alaska is an Imperial territory. » Squire said.

This was not going to end well. « JESUS CHRIST THE COMMES WANT TO LEBENSRAUM US WITH SOCIALISM! All men man the guns! Prep the AA! » Brian exclaimed, while making siren noises as he charged at the house.

[Creedence Clearwater: Fortunate Son starts playing]

« [Hell yeah! Knew the author was a true 'Murican patriotist!] » Michael exclaimed, before he started singing at full volume while charging at the Imperials. «[ Eerlijk gezegd snap ik niet waarom sommigen de voorkeur geven aan Call of Duty.] [[Honestly I don't get why some would prefer Call of Duty over this.]] » Alicia commented in admiration.

Suddenly, Michael was able to breach trough the house, and several Imperial and Soviet soldiers exclaimed like little girls at the sight of this maniacal bearded man. « Hey commies! Still sure ye want to mess with the US of A?! » Michael exclaimed.

« We said no such thing! » a Soviet soldier tried to reason. « Too fuckin' late! Reach for the skies! » the American responded before blasting the upper part of the Soviet body with his shotgun.

« Jesus I've heard of being blown off but that's ridiculous! » Squire exclaimed at the sight. Welkin almost vomited. None the less, the battle was completed, and a large portion of the city had been liberated.

[Creedence Clearwater: Fortunate Son starts playing]

« Well that sure was an exciting battle. [All that was missing was the woman announcer and soldiers with smgs and machine guns running around the battlefield.] » Squire commented. « R-right. Next objective is the rest of the city. But first…I think I need to throw up. I didn't need to see that. » Welkin said, as he got out of the Edelweiss.

Yet another successful battle was won. But at what cost? I'll tell you what cost. Welkin stomach. The greatest loss of the entire war. You will be missed, you digestive son of a bitch.


I sincerely appreciate the support of "K" and .gaming for several of the phrases in the fanfiction. I also appreciate the support of FreeWar, GJO1088, Dandaman5, UN Peacekeeper and Sgt117 for their various suggestions in the Fanfiction, you're all wonderful people.

I do not own either Valkyria Chronicles, Squire, Lord Scatsbury, Life of Boris, Phlydaily, Sovietwomble, theOrangeDoom and MagzTV. Please support both the original game and these magnificent youtubers.

Also make sure to check out chankljp "The Twilight of an Empire: Valkyria Chronicles 1958 Cold War." I used several of his setting and names in the Fanfiction.

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Please review so I can learn your opinion. I'm willing to accept suggestions, so stay tuned. Also remember to like and follow. I would also appreciate if you also supported my other Fanfiction, Second Universe Tales: Universalia Fight Club (the remake).

See you on the next chapter!