Re: Blood and Iron

Deep within the Jungles of Indochina, a French soldier ran with a machine gun in his hands as gunfire and mortars erupted around him. The weapon he used was neither a French heavy machine gun like the Peuteux, or the Hotchkiss, nor recent developments in French “light machine guns” like the cheautchat.

His unit of legionnaires had run out of ammunition for their own weapons a very long time ago, and resupply was almost non-existent, as the state of France and its current colonial empire tore at the seams.

No, he carried one of the Japanese machine guns with multiple belts of ammunition wrapped around his chest. Ammunition scavenged from his kills in the field, currently however the position he and his unit were ordered to hold was being overwhelmed by the combined might of the Royal Thai Army and the Imperial Japanese Army who had run through the gap in between the trenches without any regard for their own well being.

With France’s ability to send shipments abroad being entirely nullified by the central powers blockade, there was simply no hope for those men sent to protect French Colonial Assets overseas.

Ammunition was scarce enough already, and when the enemy resorted to human wave tactics from the start, it was only a matter of time before the Legionnaires ran out of supplies altogether.

The position was needless to say overrun rather quickly, and the French soldiers defending it were massacred. Only a few men like the Legionnaire running through the jungles of Indochina were spared the slaughter that ensued, but if they could not outrun their pursuers, then their temporary escape was utterly devoid of meaning..

Being hunted like a feral hog, the enemy soldiers made use of traps and tracking tactics to chase the French legionary from ambush point to ambush point, each contact with the enemy adding the number of wounds on his flesh

Despite this, the soldier continued with his efforts, fleeing into the woods and hoping to reach the last major evacuation point to flee the region with the rest of the French soldiers who were sick and tired of their deployment, and the suicidal orders they were expected to fulfill.

But the journey was far, and evidently the enemy was already aware of their intentions, planning to cut off the escape route of those who dared to flee the battlefield. Screams of agony accompanied the sounds of gunfire and detonated explosives. Where the native languages of the French Legionnaires cried out in terror, no doubt pleading for mercy as they were permanently silenced by their hunters.

Until finally it all ceased…. Alone, lost in the jungle, surrounded on all sides, the lone survivor suddenly realized that he had no idea where he was, or what direction went where. No… He was well and truly isolated.

Finally, the Japanese soldiers, concealing their bodies with mud, paint, and natural foilage emerged with their weapons in hand and bayonets attached, the leader of which had a Katana drawn and in an aggressive high guard.

As the men surrounded the legionary, he raised his machine guna and shouldered it, squeezing the trigger as he aimed down the sights of the weapon towards the nearest target.

*click*

Having randomly fired his weapon with bursts into the treeline to try and deter his attackers from following him, the soldier only now realized that his weapon was empty an he had not changed the belt.

Causing the nearest attacker, he tried to shoot, to lunge forward with his bayonet attached to the weapon of his rifle. Using the larger size of the machine gun to block his vitals, the French soldier pushed the Japanese soldier back with his weapon before drawing his own bayonet as he lunged towards his enemy with the blade in his hand as if it were a knife.

Skewering the Japanese soldier in the chest as he did so, while screaming at the enemy in perfect American English.

“Come on, you yellow bastards! You want me? Well, here I am! Come and fucking get some! A flash of shimmering steel, glistening with the mists of the Indochinese jungle lunged towards the American volunteer, himself only narrowly avoiding a death blow, while sacrificing one of his legs, and his spare arm.

In doing so, he stuck his bayonet into the neck of the nearest soldier, which he grabbed hold of and repeatedly poked with his blade. Before slashing his weapon wildly creating enough room to make an attempt of deflecting the oncoming stab.

But there was only so much the man could do as an entire squad was simultaneously attacking him with their bayonets at the same time, causing him to temporarily become a human pincushion.

With his last vestige of life ebbing away from his body, the legionnaire spit on the officer who had shoved his sword into the American volunteer’s gut, causing him to become agitated as he withdrew his sword from where it currently lay, and with a single smooth gesture decapitated the dying soldier in front of him.

After doing so, the Japanese raged at the dead man who hat spit on his face.

“Fucking English pricks! They really should know when to give up!” Find more chapters on My Virtual Library Empire

One of the nearby soldiers looked at his commanding officer with confusion as the officer mutilated the corpse in front of him further, before saying the words that made the officer regret his immediate and violent behavior.

“Sir! He sounded American…. Not English….”

Horrified that he may have just violated the strict order given regarding American volunteers and how to handle them with care, the Japanese infantry officer looked over at his subordinate with a grim expression on his face before demanding a certain answer.

“What did you say just now? He’s American? Not English? How can you tell? You better not be lying to me, corporal!”

The corporal was quick to respond with certainty as he said he words which caused horror to rapidly spread across the surviving members of their squad as it dawned upon them what they had just done.

“I have family who immigrated to California decades ago, I spent vacations during my youth visiting them… I know the difference between an Englishman and an American when I hear it! Check to see if he has any ID!”

The officer quickly ordered the privates to do so where they found not only an American driver’s license on the man but also photos of him standing in front of the statue of liberty with his lover back home.

It was fine to kill an enemy soldier who refused to surrender, but violating their corpses afterwards was a flagrant disregard for the rules of war, and the entirety of the Japanese Military had been given strict orders to avoid doing so to volunteers from neutral nations, the United States in particular being a great concern.

Though the squad would try to cover up their misdeeds, there were also those who would rat on their brothers in arms and comrades if enough pressure was applied to them, and in the right way. Soon enough, this matter would become public, and would incite the more hawkish citizens of the United States into advocating for war, if not outright aid to be given to France.

—

Japan had gift wrapped an early Christmas present and sent it right to Woodrow Wilson’s front desk. By asking for volunteers from the United States Armed forces stationed in the Philippines and unofficially offer them to the French Foreign Legion without the proper procedures. Hawkish elements of the American Armed Forces were able to send armed and trained soldiers to French-Indochina under the guise of being neutral.

Allowing for ships to pass through the region unimpeded by the naval forces of the Central Powers present in the region. The operation had started small scale, with a few companies worth of American volunteers being strategically inserted into the right place at the right time and it had paid off.

The French Unit which these Americans were “officially” serving with under the capacity of being “deserters” denied American involvement in the conflict, while setting up the scene for the brutality which the Japanese were known to engage in.

After all, the Japanese had no intelligence of American soldiers coming over to take part in the French Foreign Legion’s futile resistance, and thus had acted without regard for the possibility.

But by doing so, they had played right into Wilson’s hand, and now every newspaper in America would be reporting on the brutal execution and dismemberment of a US Soldier in French-Indochina by the Imperial Japanese Army.

Sure this may not by itself stir up the support from the public necessary to undo over a decade of societal conditioning towards isolationism and neutrality, but it would be enough to spark a desire for greater “volunteer” support to aid France and hopefully break the German advance and force them either into a stalemate, or reverse their advantage altogether.

This was Woodrow Wilson’s hope, to buy himself enough time to win the presidency and get the United States and its industrial potential into the war against Germany and the Central Powers. However, he was running against the clock, and the possibility of this “provocation” being simply too late on America’s part to change the tides of war was a very real possibillity.