Havenic Israel
03-10-2008, 18:39
October 3rd,
New Jerusalem, Havenic Israel
The sun rose slowly over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the harsh landscape. Sand and rock covered the expanse, for as far as the eye could see, up into many jagged and rough mountains. Cities had sprung up in the desert, communities of devoutly religious and fierce Jewish people.
In the Capital City of New Jerusalem, Prime Minister Ben-Shoham of the Kadima party awoke at to see the lights of the sun etching their warm fingers through cracks in his window drapes. The heat warmed his face as he forced his tired eyes open. Sitting up, he raised his arms to the sky in stretching and extended his legs out of the bed to the soft rug which adorned his hardwood floor. He stood and wearily made his way into the restroom, shaved, and then donned a fine silk suit and pants, with a pair of black loafers. He was greeted on the opposite side of his bedroom chamber by his chief Secretary, Mr. David Elias.
“Good morning, Mr. Ben-Shoham,” he said handing his the daily morning situation report. “I trust you slept well?”
“Thank you, Mr. Elias. Yes I did,” the Prime Minister said with a smile and a nod. “Has anything interesting occurred in my rest?”
“Not especially sir,” the Secretary said. “The economy is doing fantastic, our people are employed, and the military is reporting very high readiness reports. All appears to be going precisely as it should, just as it always does.”
“Glad to hear it,” they turned a corner and at the end of the hall entered the main office. In the center of the room was a large desk, behind and all across the halls adorning the large room were various Havenic Israeli flags and book shelves. Ben-Shoham, having been a General in the HIDF, had many hundreds of military related books which he was fascinated by. He loved to read, and many found him to be an exceptionally astute and intellectual man as a result. He had been in office for almost two years, and most would say he was an at least competent Prime Minister. He was young, only forty two, generally vibrant, and charismatic man who the people fell in love with. Under him he protected civil freedom and economic stability against corruption and decay, problems with plagued most other nations across the globe. He had grown up in Tel Aviv, and attended the Havenic Military Institute of Israel, where he graduated in the top ten percent. He retired from the military as a Major, at the age of thirty five, and turned to politics, winning a seat for his district in the Kadina Party in the Knesset, or Assembly: Havenic Israel’s unicameral Legislature.
Once inside he sat down in his large office chair. Made of the finest leather, he sank into it and mentally thought about how much he loved his chair. However, he then turned his mind back to his speaking Secretary.
“-infrastructure is growing, spending is up which is further stimulating the economy,” the secretary continued.
“Thank you, Mr. Elias,” he said, and waved off the secretary. The secretary nodded and left, leaving Ben-Shoham with various papers and reports to review. The hours passed slowly, yielding little change. However, with it being the High Holy Days, many industries and businesses were closing early and allowing their workers to return home to be with their families. This was the case as well for government officials, however one group of individuals would not spend these days with their families. These men, soldiers in the Havenic Israeli Defense Force, were spread out across fire bases and fortifications all across the nation’s border.
Northern Command, October 3rd 1800 hrs
Northern Command Base, Yisraeli, Havenic Israel
Lieutenant General Reuvan, head of Northern Command, sat in his office filling requisition reports and readiness papers. To say the least, he was not particularly thrilled with this work of peace time, but it needed to be done in order to get to the fun stuff: military exercises. Those he loved. Getting into the field, actively commanding and training for war which all outwardly hoped would never come, but many inwardly wished would to dispel the drudgery of life in a new nation which had not yet experianced large conflict.
His office was rather large, befitting a man of his position. He had numerous bookshelves lined with all the great works of military literature, and many hundreds of others which he found pleasurable to read. Maps of Israel and the continent hung from the wall, framed. A large Havenic Israeli flag hung from a golden flag post stood proudly in a corner to his right, and to his left was the flag of the Havenic Israeli Defense Force. His room was not as Spartan as he would have preferred. A large window overlooking the compound from his two story office building was behind him, and he frequently would stand before it, gazing out across his compound and the desert. Though the window faced the north, rays of sunlight would extend into his office, casting a golden flood into his office at certain times of the year. It had a leather couch, a large oak wood desk, and an elaborate Persian rug interlaced with gold fiber in the middle of the room. A small desk light sat on his table, which he admitted he did need, but the series of fine, porcelain lamps which sat on equally fine oak wood lamp-stands beside the couches were unnecessary. He detested such elegance, finding it unmilitary, but he understood that with his position many foreign dignitaries frequently visited. This made an impression on them to see both an elegant, well spoken, officer who drilled his men intensely. He hoped it would make him more intimidating to his foes both by force and intellect, but he feared it would make him weak.
He returned to his readiness reports. There were three divisions in Northern Corps Regional Command, each with eight four thousand three hundred and seventy five men. Contributing to this were six Regiments of troops, of fourteen thousand men each. Also there were several independent logistics companies which contributed an additional eight hundred some men to each Division. He was in general pleased with the performance of his troops, save one. The chief, and only real, drain on him was the 8th Division, a Reservist unit. Five Regiments of unmotivated, and tired reservists who had difficulty in switching from the civilian to military mindset, and in many cases their readiness showed it. They were the cause of many a headache for him. He was proud, however, to be the commander of the prestigious 9th Airborne Division, one of the most elite units within the HIDF. Chuckling to himself, he noted that he supposed it off set the frustration that the conscripts gave him.
Around the outskirts of the base, Divisional commanders also sat in their respective Divisional commands, working actively with their various staffers and executives. These bases were all relatively close by the Corps Regional Command Head Quarters, relatively meaning within thirty miles of them. Regimental Command Centers were also spread out, with their Battalions being formed alongside the borders positioning their respective companies and downward on the chain of command. The battalions which had established firebases of trenches, barbed wire, and machine gun emplacements in circular defensive pattern, were commanded by a Lieutenant Colonel, and each had five companies under their command. Reuvan’s nearly two hundred fifty three thousand troops covered a vast expanse of land, in inhospitable, rocky, desert terrain.
He leaned back in his chair. He took a deep breath and stood, rocking forward to gain momentum, propelling himself up. He went to the corner where he had hung his green dress jacket, and exited the office. Once outside, a soldier standing guard at parade rest snapped a quick salute, which he nodded and returned without stopping. The sun was coming down and he could see the orange-red orb descending behind a large mountain where the 3rd Battalion, 1st Air Cavalry were based. Atop that hill also, was based the 9th Division’s Artillery Regiment, which could wreak havoc and hellfire for miles around should any enemy force be foolish enough to make an attack from the mountainous Israeli north.
Firebase Alpha, 2000 hrs
Northern Havenic Israel
Lieutenant Colonel Scot Fenton, commander of the 3rd Battalion, 1st Air Cavalry, was still awake. He had been sleeping in the officer’s quarters, an aluminum barracks where each officer was billeted beside a series of similar quarters for enlisted personnel, but awoke from a nightmare. In his nightmare he saw a terrible conflict enveloping his country, as an invader who detested his people sought to exterminate them. Such fears were common amongst soldiers in the HIDF, the world was not a safe place for Jews and he feared it never would be. That was why Havenic Israel needed to prevail, to make a home for Jews free of repression, and why he remained an officer in the HIDF. He rose from the cot, grabbed his shirt and pants, and donned them. Then he stumbled around for his boots and slid them on and laced them up, and finally put on his jacket due to the cold weather frequent in the desert at night.
As he walked outside, the full moon cast a glow across the land of a near perpetual twilight. He grabbed his helmet and entered the trenches. Down a dirt ramp he went, descending five feet into the six foot deep trench. One of the on guard enlistees saluted and he waved it off.
“No need private,” he said, then he added with a wink, “save it for later.”
The soldier chuckled and smiled. He continued his walk around the perimeter with several similar occurrences. It was well known that Fenton, as a result of being an officer of the elite, trusted his men to be so as well. Thus he laxed discipline with military formality, particularly with late night guard troops. He frequently took strolls in the trench dug outs, seeing to it that the on guard company was alert, as well as just getting outside. His five hundred and sixty five troops, he felt, would follow him into the depths of hell and back, and he’d die for each and every one of them. After successfully circumnavigating the camp, he went back to his billet, climbed into his cot, and drifted back to sleep.
(OOC: If your nation wishes to send delegations to establish relations, feel free.)
New Jerusalem, Havenic Israel
The sun rose slowly over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the harsh landscape. Sand and rock covered the expanse, for as far as the eye could see, up into many jagged and rough mountains. Cities had sprung up in the desert, communities of devoutly religious and fierce Jewish people.
In the Capital City of New Jerusalem, Prime Minister Ben-Shoham of the Kadima party awoke at to see the lights of the sun etching their warm fingers through cracks in his window drapes. The heat warmed his face as he forced his tired eyes open. Sitting up, he raised his arms to the sky in stretching and extended his legs out of the bed to the soft rug which adorned his hardwood floor. He stood and wearily made his way into the restroom, shaved, and then donned a fine silk suit and pants, with a pair of black loafers. He was greeted on the opposite side of his bedroom chamber by his chief Secretary, Mr. David Elias.
“Good morning, Mr. Ben-Shoham,” he said handing his the daily morning situation report. “I trust you slept well?”
“Thank you, Mr. Elias. Yes I did,” the Prime Minister said with a smile and a nod. “Has anything interesting occurred in my rest?”
“Not especially sir,” the Secretary said. “The economy is doing fantastic, our people are employed, and the military is reporting very high readiness reports. All appears to be going precisely as it should, just as it always does.”
“Glad to hear it,” they turned a corner and at the end of the hall entered the main office. In the center of the room was a large desk, behind and all across the halls adorning the large room were various Havenic Israeli flags and book shelves. Ben-Shoham, having been a General in the HIDF, had many hundreds of military related books which he was fascinated by. He loved to read, and many found him to be an exceptionally astute and intellectual man as a result. He had been in office for almost two years, and most would say he was an at least competent Prime Minister. He was young, only forty two, generally vibrant, and charismatic man who the people fell in love with. Under him he protected civil freedom and economic stability against corruption and decay, problems with plagued most other nations across the globe. He had grown up in Tel Aviv, and attended the Havenic Military Institute of Israel, where he graduated in the top ten percent. He retired from the military as a Major, at the age of thirty five, and turned to politics, winning a seat for his district in the Kadina Party in the Knesset, or Assembly: Havenic Israel’s unicameral Legislature.
Once inside he sat down in his large office chair. Made of the finest leather, he sank into it and mentally thought about how much he loved his chair. However, he then turned his mind back to his speaking Secretary.
“-infrastructure is growing, spending is up which is further stimulating the economy,” the secretary continued.
“Thank you, Mr. Elias,” he said, and waved off the secretary. The secretary nodded and left, leaving Ben-Shoham with various papers and reports to review. The hours passed slowly, yielding little change. However, with it being the High Holy Days, many industries and businesses were closing early and allowing their workers to return home to be with their families. This was the case as well for government officials, however one group of individuals would not spend these days with their families. These men, soldiers in the Havenic Israeli Defense Force, were spread out across fire bases and fortifications all across the nation’s border.
Northern Command, October 3rd 1800 hrs
Northern Command Base, Yisraeli, Havenic Israel
Lieutenant General Reuvan, head of Northern Command, sat in his office filling requisition reports and readiness papers. To say the least, he was not particularly thrilled with this work of peace time, but it needed to be done in order to get to the fun stuff: military exercises. Those he loved. Getting into the field, actively commanding and training for war which all outwardly hoped would never come, but many inwardly wished would to dispel the drudgery of life in a new nation which had not yet experianced large conflict.
His office was rather large, befitting a man of his position. He had numerous bookshelves lined with all the great works of military literature, and many hundreds of others which he found pleasurable to read. Maps of Israel and the continent hung from the wall, framed. A large Havenic Israeli flag hung from a golden flag post stood proudly in a corner to his right, and to his left was the flag of the Havenic Israeli Defense Force. His room was not as Spartan as he would have preferred. A large window overlooking the compound from his two story office building was behind him, and he frequently would stand before it, gazing out across his compound and the desert. Though the window faced the north, rays of sunlight would extend into his office, casting a golden flood into his office at certain times of the year. It had a leather couch, a large oak wood desk, and an elaborate Persian rug interlaced with gold fiber in the middle of the room. A small desk light sat on his table, which he admitted he did need, but the series of fine, porcelain lamps which sat on equally fine oak wood lamp-stands beside the couches were unnecessary. He detested such elegance, finding it unmilitary, but he understood that with his position many foreign dignitaries frequently visited. This made an impression on them to see both an elegant, well spoken, officer who drilled his men intensely. He hoped it would make him more intimidating to his foes both by force and intellect, but he feared it would make him weak.
He returned to his readiness reports. There were three divisions in Northern Corps Regional Command, each with eight four thousand three hundred and seventy five men. Contributing to this were six Regiments of troops, of fourteen thousand men each. Also there were several independent logistics companies which contributed an additional eight hundred some men to each Division. He was in general pleased with the performance of his troops, save one. The chief, and only real, drain on him was the 8th Division, a Reservist unit. Five Regiments of unmotivated, and tired reservists who had difficulty in switching from the civilian to military mindset, and in many cases their readiness showed it. They were the cause of many a headache for him. He was proud, however, to be the commander of the prestigious 9th Airborne Division, one of the most elite units within the HIDF. Chuckling to himself, he noted that he supposed it off set the frustration that the conscripts gave him.
Around the outskirts of the base, Divisional commanders also sat in their respective Divisional commands, working actively with their various staffers and executives. These bases were all relatively close by the Corps Regional Command Head Quarters, relatively meaning within thirty miles of them. Regimental Command Centers were also spread out, with their Battalions being formed alongside the borders positioning their respective companies and downward on the chain of command. The battalions which had established firebases of trenches, barbed wire, and machine gun emplacements in circular defensive pattern, were commanded by a Lieutenant Colonel, and each had five companies under their command. Reuvan’s nearly two hundred fifty three thousand troops covered a vast expanse of land, in inhospitable, rocky, desert terrain.
He leaned back in his chair. He took a deep breath and stood, rocking forward to gain momentum, propelling himself up. He went to the corner where he had hung his green dress jacket, and exited the office. Once outside, a soldier standing guard at parade rest snapped a quick salute, which he nodded and returned without stopping. The sun was coming down and he could see the orange-red orb descending behind a large mountain where the 3rd Battalion, 1st Air Cavalry were based. Atop that hill also, was based the 9th Division’s Artillery Regiment, which could wreak havoc and hellfire for miles around should any enemy force be foolish enough to make an attack from the mountainous Israeli north.
Firebase Alpha, 2000 hrs
Northern Havenic Israel
Lieutenant Colonel Scot Fenton, commander of the 3rd Battalion, 1st Air Cavalry, was still awake. He had been sleeping in the officer’s quarters, an aluminum barracks where each officer was billeted beside a series of similar quarters for enlisted personnel, but awoke from a nightmare. In his nightmare he saw a terrible conflict enveloping his country, as an invader who detested his people sought to exterminate them. Such fears were common amongst soldiers in the HIDF, the world was not a safe place for Jews and he feared it never would be. That was why Havenic Israel needed to prevail, to make a home for Jews free of repression, and why he remained an officer in the HIDF. He rose from the cot, grabbed his shirt and pants, and donned them. Then he stumbled around for his boots and slid them on and laced them up, and finally put on his jacket due to the cold weather frequent in the desert at night.
As he walked outside, the full moon cast a glow across the land of a near perpetual twilight. He grabbed his helmet and entered the trenches. Down a dirt ramp he went, descending five feet into the six foot deep trench. One of the on guard enlistees saluted and he waved it off.
“No need private,” he said, then he added with a wink, “save it for later.”
The soldier chuckled and smiled. He continued his walk around the perimeter with several similar occurrences. It was well known that Fenton, as a result of being an officer of the elite, trusted his men to be so as well. Thus he laxed discipline with military formality, particularly with late night guard troops. He frequently took strolls in the trench dug outs, seeing to it that the on guard company was alert, as well as just getting outside. His five hundred and sixty five troops, he felt, would follow him into the depths of hell and back, and he’d die for each and every one of them. After successfully circumnavigating the camp, he went back to his billet, climbed into his cot, and drifted back to sleep.
(OOC: If your nation wishes to send delegations to establish relations, feel free.)