Wanderjar
18-08-2007, 18:25
(OOC: Cazelia, if you would RP your populace throughout this, that'd be excellent.)
Several days had passed since the first Wanderjarian troops set foot in Cazelia. But from the first, they were preparing their protectorate area for their occupation. Check Point stations had been erected at all major road ways, checking identification cards which were provided by the Wanderjarian Government, and ensuring that none violated the law. The penalties for any violations were harsh, typically being execution, though no executions had been dealt….yet. Megaphones broadcasting pro-Wanderjarian messages replayed themselves perpetually, and Wanderjarian Panzers rolled through the streets accompanied by an infantry escort on patrol, weapons ready in case any infractions to the law or their occupation were observed.
On the fifth day however, all preparations were completed. The Wanderjarian SS HQ had been established from an old warehouse at the International Airport, which was officially the base of operations for all Wanderjarian Schutztruppe soldiers in the area. The Commander of the Schutztruppe, SS-Oberführer Heinrich Baak, was escorted by the second company of his SS battalion to the local Mayor’s Building, a large building which sported a balcony from which he would deliver a speech to the people on the nature of their occupation, their mission statement, and their request for compliance.
Almost the entire city crowded in the streets to hear, as it would be broadcast across the city’s megaphone system. He removed his Officer’s hat, and took a deep breath. Wanderjarian banners hung from the Mayor’s building behind him, and hung low in long maroon rectangular strips from the roof, rippling slightly in the breeze.
“Good day to you all, Cazelians. I am SS-Oberführer Heinrich Baak, Commander of the Wanderjarian Schutztruppe stationed here to help you get back on your feet. Long have you all felt the insanity of your Government rule you with its ways, but no more. Now you shall have a new, stable Government established for you. However, in the mean time we require your total cooperation, and all shall go well. We shall reward obedience, but,” He paused and panned his vision across the crowd, “Recalcitrance shall be punished quite severely.” The crowd was deathly silent. The Wanderjarian’s military uniforms were designed for intimidation, but the SS struck raw fear into any who encountered them, their otherworldly look gave them a fiendish appearance and the Death’s Head Legion symbol on their arm bands were additional reminders that these were not men to trifle with.
Baak continued his speech, “We are here to help you, not to harm you. However you shall learn the Prussian code of conduct and adhere to it. This is a must. This code instills discipline, a sound moral character, and good standards to any society which conforms to it. We give you all this for your betterment, not for our own pleasure.” With that, several dozen Wanderjarian SS troopers advanced forwards, their weapons unslung and hung out before them. In a straight line they marched forward towards the crowd, descending the marble stairwell and stopping right in front of them, their weapons remaining level at the waist, long silver bayonets extending towards the masses. The SS Officer remained at the podium at the peak of the stairway, watching his men contain the crowd which was virtually silent aside from a few mutters and hoarse whispers.
“Excellent. Return to your homes or work places. May we each cooperate well and make all of our lives more….” He paused thinking of the proper word, “…Efficient." After this, he turned and left. The roads were cleared by the Wehrmacht soldiers wearing the black uniforms of SS soldatens, and the Baak was driven in his black limeosine back to the Schutztruppe Headquarters back at the airport.
Immediately, the jackboot fell.
Doors across the city were kicked in by Wanderjarian SS troopers, searching for weapons and seizing any they found. Any illegal contraband was apprehended and its owner given a stark warning that any further mishaps would result in severe punishments. However, drugs of any type, aside from medically prescribed, resulted in its users being arrested on the spot. Truck loads of people were carted back to the airport for violations of this law, their eyes blindfolded and hands secured tightly behind their backs. A large number of such people were lined up in neat rows on the tarmac, some twenty abreast and several ranks deep. Several machinegunners set up their guns before the crowd, which stood erect as it was ordered to do, and was cut down by the SS troops. A statement on the megaphones relayed that drug usage was harmful to the mind and body, and its usage intolerable. People using such objects deserved their fate in fact! They were socities trash! They were "Lebensunwertes Leben!", or "Life Unworthy of Life!". Whether the people believed in this or not was irrelevent. All that mattered was that they obeyed. The tanks rolled down the streets on patrol, followed by their infantry platoon escorts. BMP-3 APCs sat on various major intersections within the inner city, surrounded by Wanderjarian Black Shirt soldiers, watching, waiting, ready. Any percieved misstep in the law would mean the unfortunate soul's immediate detention and interrogation by the SS Unit Interrogator, a horrific experiance which would soon terrorise the entirity of the city into submission. They would submit. The SS would make them.
"Heil Baker!" The Megaphones blared frequently in between propaganda messages or other admittedly biased news bulletins, frequently on Wanderjarian successes within the city. Though they had only been there going on one week, the Wanderjarian Government assured the people they had done a years work of improvement. To their credit, much had been done to assist the people. Money came in to hospitals to improve health care, and a "Baker Youth" Battalion was to be opened after a few months of occupation had passed. Until then, schools were improved with Wanderjarian teachers, telling of the glorious future they had in store for them now that their old and corrupt regieme had been removed. The Wanderjarians knew what was best for them. Soon enough, when they were ready, the Wanderjarians would give them a Government of their own. It was just a short matter of time, they were assured. The Jackboots clapped and stomped down the side walks all the same. Platoons with rifles at their shoulders marched through the streets, kicking in doors on suspected gun owners or other criminal types.
Yes, the Jackboot had fallen indeed.
Several days had passed since the first Wanderjarian troops set foot in Cazelia. But from the first, they were preparing their protectorate area for their occupation. Check Point stations had been erected at all major road ways, checking identification cards which were provided by the Wanderjarian Government, and ensuring that none violated the law. The penalties for any violations were harsh, typically being execution, though no executions had been dealt….yet. Megaphones broadcasting pro-Wanderjarian messages replayed themselves perpetually, and Wanderjarian Panzers rolled through the streets accompanied by an infantry escort on patrol, weapons ready in case any infractions to the law or their occupation were observed.
On the fifth day however, all preparations were completed. The Wanderjarian SS HQ had been established from an old warehouse at the International Airport, which was officially the base of operations for all Wanderjarian Schutztruppe soldiers in the area. The Commander of the Schutztruppe, SS-Oberführer Heinrich Baak, was escorted by the second company of his SS battalion to the local Mayor’s Building, a large building which sported a balcony from which he would deliver a speech to the people on the nature of their occupation, their mission statement, and their request for compliance.
Almost the entire city crowded in the streets to hear, as it would be broadcast across the city’s megaphone system. He removed his Officer’s hat, and took a deep breath. Wanderjarian banners hung from the Mayor’s building behind him, and hung low in long maroon rectangular strips from the roof, rippling slightly in the breeze.
“Good day to you all, Cazelians. I am SS-Oberführer Heinrich Baak, Commander of the Wanderjarian Schutztruppe stationed here to help you get back on your feet. Long have you all felt the insanity of your Government rule you with its ways, but no more. Now you shall have a new, stable Government established for you. However, in the mean time we require your total cooperation, and all shall go well. We shall reward obedience, but,” He paused and panned his vision across the crowd, “Recalcitrance shall be punished quite severely.” The crowd was deathly silent. The Wanderjarian’s military uniforms were designed for intimidation, but the SS struck raw fear into any who encountered them, their otherworldly look gave them a fiendish appearance and the Death’s Head Legion symbol on their arm bands were additional reminders that these were not men to trifle with.
Baak continued his speech, “We are here to help you, not to harm you. However you shall learn the Prussian code of conduct and adhere to it. This is a must. This code instills discipline, a sound moral character, and good standards to any society which conforms to it. We give you all this for your betterment, not for our own pleasure.” With that, several dozen Wanderjarian SS troopers advanced forwards, their weapons unslung and hung out before them. In a straight line they marched forward towards the crowd, descending the marble stairwell and stopping right in front of them, their weapons remaining level at the waist, long silver bayonets extending towards the masses. The SS Officer remained at the podium at the peak of the stairway, watching his men contain the crowd which was virtually silent aside from a few mutters and hoarse whispers.
“Excellent. Return to your homes or work places. May we each cooperate well and make all of our lives more….” He paused thinking of the proper word, “…Efficient." After this, he turned and left. The roads were cleared by the Wehrmacht soldiers wearing the black uniforms of SS soldatens, and the Baak was driven in his black limeosine back to the Schutztruppe Headquarters back at the airport.
Immediately, the jackboot fell.
Doors across the city were kicked in by Wanderjarian SS troopers, searching for weapons and seizing any they found. Any illegal contraband was apprehended and its owner given a stark warning that any further mishaps would result in severe punishments. However, drugs of any type, aside from medically prescribed, resulted in its users being arrested on the spot. Truck loads of people were carted back to the airport for violations of this law, their eyes blindfolded and hands secured tightly behind their backs. A large number of such people were lined up in neat rows on the tarmac, some twenty abreast and several ranks deep. Several machinegunners set up their guns before the crowd, which stood erect as it was ordered to do, and was cut down by the SS troops. A statement on the megaphones relayed that drug usage was harmful to the mind and body, and its usage intolerable. People using such objects deserved their fate in fact! They were socities trash! They were "Lebensunwertes Leben!", or "Life Unworthy of Life!". Whether the people believed in this or not was irrelevent. All that mattered was that they obeyed. The tanks rolled down the streets on patrol, followed by their infantry platoon escorts. BMP-3 APCs sat on various major intersections within the inner city, surrounded by Wanderjarian Black Shirt soldiers, watching, waiting, ready. Any percieved misstep in the law would mean the unfortunate soul's immediate detention and interrogation by the SS Unit Interrogator, a horrific experiance which would soon terrorise the entirity of the city into submission. They would submit. The SS would make them.
"Heil Baker!" The Megaphones blared frequently in between propaganda messages or other admittedly biased news bulletins, frequently on Wanderjarian successes within the city. Though they had only been there going on one week, the Wanderjarian Government assured the people they had done a years work of improvement. To their credit, much had been done to assist the people. Money came in to hospitals to improve health care, and a "Baker Youth" Battalion was to be opened after a few months of occupation had passed. Until then, schools were improved with Wanderjarian teachers, telling of the glorious future they had in store for them now that their old and corrupt regieme had been removed. The Wanderjarians knew what was best for them. Soon enough, when they were ready, the Wanderjarians would give them a Government of their own. It was just a short matter of time, they were assured. The Jackboots clapped and stomped down the side walks all the same. Platoons with rifles at their shoulders marched through the streets, kicking in doors on suspected gun owners or other criminal types.
Yes, the Jackboot had fallen indeed.