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Operació Llibertat Duradora; Operation Enduring Freedom - Aragonese North Africa Campaign
Topic Started: Oct 22 2010, 12:58 PM (340 Views)
Azrael
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Palau Reial Major, Barcelona

The gathered Generals, Commanders and Admirals had taken their seats in the old Palace, preparing to discuss the campaign against the Berber tribes gathering in the Sahara. A calm, quiet chatter filled the large chamber where the meeting was being held and the leading member of the Council slowly made his way to the seat at the end of the table from where he would direct the discussion. A lot of the men had been in this situation before, having been young commanders when the Aragonese Crown last marched into war.

"Alright, settle down, settle down. The meeting of the Council of War will commence. You have all been told told of the situation in our African possessions and the measures so far taken to quell the Berber insurgency. Representing the Cortes we have the Marquis of Zaragoza. Also, General De La Riva has been authorized by His Imperial Majesty to speak on behalf of the Crown. Let us get the discussion started. General Fal Conde, please tell the latest news from your units in Africa."

"Thank you General. We have a serious situation out there. As much as our press is telling about how the insurgents were dispersed and beaten into submission, the reality is far from it. The tribes we dispersed are gathering again. Our patrols have been seeing a lot of activity in the southern edge of our possessions and I have reason to believe that there are more Berbers sneaking past the border to aid the ones already here. Even if the full Colonial Legion stationed in Africa were to be mobilized against the Berbers, we would drastically lack materiel and manpower to handle the threat. Some of the tribes loyal to us are willing to help and we will count on their specialization of desert environments to bulk up the patrols on the border but it won't be enough. Either we need to take the fight to them, or they will continue to grow in size and power. These Berbers are a credible threat."

"Thank you General. We could begin drawing men from our reserves and move our active Armies to Africa to bulk up the Colonial Legions with heavy firepower."

"Excuse me General," a young Commander from the Colonial Legion spoke up and stood from his seat, "but heavy firepower against the Berbers is useless. I have commanded the 7th Colonial Lancers for two years now and one thing we have seen with the vehicle trials is that they will sink into the sand or run out of supplies far before the next supply station. The only way to traverse the Sahara in a reliable way is to use the Berber ways against them. If any armies from Iberia are to sent over to combat Berbers, let them be cavalry units. Horse and camel cavalry are the best ways to fight against such a mobile force as the Berbers."

"Commander, you cannot be serious. The pride of our nation wobbling on camels like the common tribesmen? Unacceptable" the Marquis of Zaragoza said and laughed. OF course, he had seen camels only in Zaragoza Zoo and had never been to the Sahara.

"Actually, Count, if I may. The Commander is making sense. I have accompanied His Imperial Majesty on a visit to our garrisons in North Africa and the conditions are horrid. All heavy vehicles were constantly under maintenance due to the sand and dust that got inside everywhere and even most of the motorcycles were useless despite extensive modifications on-site to enable longer runs with them between garrisons. Even most of the infantry regiments in the area had bought horses or camels from locals to enable couriers and messengers to move swiftly along the border areas. I believe His Imperial Majesty would agree with the Commander on this one. We should send out cavalry regiments in to aid the Colonial Legions."

"Honestly, General. The Cortes will not accept this sort of humbuggery. The Crown of Aragon is a respected Empire!"

"Count, do you go against the word of a man who holds authorization to speak on behalf of the Crown?"

"Erm... N-no. Not at all. I just believe this to be a foolish notion. To use those awful looking beasts as the basis for our movement when we have paid for cars and trucks."

"The Council of War has reached a decision then. Increased presence in North Africa will be in the form of Cavalry. The Air Force will continue patrols over the sahara and report on Berber movements. The Armed Forces will finance the purchase of further horses and camels into the use of this campaign. On to the next issue on the list..."
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Azrael
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Colonial Legion Camp, 5 km south of Batna, Algiers

"Sir, we got word from the Council of War."

"Excellent. What's their decision? Show me the message."

"They are sending in cavalry forces from the regular army, sir. They want to advance south into the Sahara. Get them where they live."

"Hah! Excellent. For once they've been listening to us. Assemble the troops. We're heading out as soon as the sun starts going down. Tell them to pack heavy. We won't be back for a while."

"Yes, sir!"


Several hours later, the troops had assembled outside the camp, arranged into long rows of camel cavalry. Although, to be exact they were mostly dromedaries and not the two-humped camel.
The regular horse cavalry from this camp was set on the other side of the camp due to the horses being easily unnerved or even spooked by the camels. The commander was for this reason on foot as he faced the camel cavalry, his horse waiting with the other troops.

"Troopers! The Council of War has given the order to go south beyond our borders. We will track down these Berber rebels and we will hunt them down until we have crushed every last speck of their resolve! Be ready to cross the entire sahara if need be, for the Berbers are fast and resilient. Our only chance to crush them is to crush them completely! There will be no mercy on those that go against God, King, Country and Law. Your troop leaders have your orders. Follow them and we shall meet in Biskra at the end of next week. Hoorah!"

The camel cavalry troops exploded into a single loud "Hoorah!" as their commander walked back into the camp and headed for the horse cavalry to motivate them as well. The troops leaders called out one by one for their troops to follow and slowly the large group fragmented into smaller units, each heading in a slightly different direction. Their mission was a combat sweep and by God they would follow this mission to the end. The Berbers had no chance, or so they thought.


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Azrael
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10 km north of Tlemcen

The buzz of voices filled the long column of trucks rolling down the dusty pathways carved into the North African sand. Almost all the men being transported were black and had an equipment level beneath that of the common Aragonese soldier. They weren't Colonial Legion, such status would warrant very good equipment, but even by army standards this wasn't much. They carried simple combat packs with some rations, a bedroll, a tattered rain coat and ammunition for their old-model rifles. By any account, these men were no shock troopers. There could be doubts cast on their training level as well, were these men not under Aragonese rule. Aragonese officers would not allow use of any force that was not aware of combat tactics and command hierarchy at the very least.

In fact, this was the Imperial North African Regiment on the move. What they were carrying was a travel pack and their better equipment had been left behind to supply new recruits to the Aragonese army. Normally this wasn't standard practice, but in this case these men were going a long way and there was little room to transport everything from their garrison to the other side of Aragonese North Africa. While they were being trucked north to the nearest railway platform, a ship carrying some of the most modern equipment available to the Aragonese military was on it's way to their destination; Tunis.

"Where do you think they're taking us?" one of the soldiers asked, using fluent Catalan to communicate with the fellow soldiers in the truck.

"Well, they sure aren't trucking us towards the Berbers. So I guess we're still not welcome to the Colonial Legion's party in the Sahara," another said from the back of the truck.

"Thank God for that blessing. I'd rather not have to trek those dunes for endless kilometres," one more soldier quipped. A short silence fell before the man standing at the very end of the truck spoke up.

"We're moving east. While the legion is busy with Berbers, we're going to see some action south of Tunis. But don't spread it around too much. There will be a full briefing when we get to Tunis," the platoon leader said and looked back at the long column of trucks moving across the rocky and sandy landscape.

The news gave the men even more to buzz about. It certainly kept them busy all the way to the railway platform. Mainly they were trying to figure out what groups or nations were located south of Tunis. But if the whole North African Regiment had been mobilized and were being moved east, this thing had to be huge.

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Azrael
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Military regrouping area, just outside Tunis

A large field had been haphazardly quartered off with a barbed wire fence. Local police patrolled the outskirts to ensure nobody got in and at the same time that no serviceman tried to break out to have fun in Tunis while his comrades waited on the field. A large tent had been placed at one end of the field and plenty of small groups of soldiers had assembled around stacks of infantry equipment. Three cars drove into the area and stopped just outside the large tent. Only a moment after that, a bugler sounded a call. Officers and higher-ranking NCOs of the military force gathered at the field gravitated quickly to the tent and assembled to hear out what was expecting them. On a small platform, a map was visible and soon a General stepped up to the platform as well.

"Good afternoon gentlemen. I appreciate you're still upright even after the long journeys to get here," General Manuel Macías started before glancing over the crowd and turning towards the map.

"You men are in the honoured position of being in charge of men tasked to guard and defend Aragonese lands in North Africa. You all know and follow the efforts of the Colonial Legion to quell Berber movements in the eastern Sahara. I have heard your voices throughout the ranks wishing to see action as well. Well, now you will have that chance! His Imperial Highness Maximilian II has authorized the Aragonese army to extend the borders of Aragon further! We will march into Algiers and Tunisia and bring order and peace to whatever lords, kings and sultans we can find in the area. These lands are under the influence of the dangerous arabs and their heathen religion! We will drive out this influence and take out a massive threat to the European way of life! Stand up, get your men and sound the bugles! We are going to war!" the general said and stepped off to cheers. As the general left, the commander of the Imperial North African Regiment stepped up to the map and ordered for the men to quiet down again.

"Listen up! We will now go through the order of battle and the general strategy. You will each have your orders written and passed down through the ranks as well, so don't worry. Study your maps and brief your men after you leave here. We set out tomorrow morning. But as for the plan..." the commander said and then continued to explain how the army would go about invading southwards and what kind of enemies they might be facing. It was generally an easy task, since there were no European powers in the area to mess things up. The locals had European weapons and some comprehension of military tactics that they didn't have during the age of colonialism. But even with that, the Aragonese forces would be sure to crush them.
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Azrael
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The truck ride southwards was easy. As the convoys of trucks loaded with soldiers and equipment, some towing field guns and howitzers behind them, continued onwards the only thing they encountered were simple villagers and farmers. The Aragonese troops were getting borderline restless as nothing seemed to happen. As soon as they crossed the border, they were anxious and many had had their fingers on triggers just waiting for famous Arabian cavalry ambushes and whatnot. But nothing came their way. The 5th Battallion in charge of conquering Gabes stopped short of the city and began setting up. Unfortunately for the soldiers, as soon as the command tent was up, a group approached from the heading of the city.

Six burly looking men carried a chair upon their shoulders, upon which sat a large man of obvious Arabic descent. His clothes were shiny, his hat massive and white, his jewellery gold with plenty of valuable gems most of the soldiers had never seen a hint of before, even amongst the famous crown jewels they read of and saw in school text books.
The Colonel in charge of the battallion turned to see this sight, followed by most of his command staff and the company leaders that had gathered to get their orders. It was a majestic sight straight from a bygone era.

"Jesus, I didn't think they used chairs like that anymore... Even in these parts of the world" someone uttered but was quickly silenced by a chorus of sushing noises.

The Arab man did not stand up or beckon them in any way, but stayed silent an seated. Apparently, even in such an occasion these people held on to whatever traditions they had. The Colonel straightened his uniform and then walked towards the Arab until he could see the carriers get agitated. These men would defend their leader and signaled with their body language quite clearly how close it was safe to come.
The seated man began to speak in a loud, booming voice. The Colonel watched him until the man stopped and then looked at the carriers who were staring at him in turn. What had come out of the mouth of this loud and shiny man was Arabic, a language outlawed in Aragon. The Colonel, being European, did not speak such a language. However, most people disregarded such pesky laws and learned Arabic in their homes or when dealing with certain nations or groups of people that were outside such kind of laws.

"Colonel, Captain Fahad, sir. Permission to translate?" a young arab-looking captain called out from the direction of the command tent. The Colonel turned around and simply nodded.
"He said he came here to speak with the leader of this army that has come to knock on the doors of his city. He identified himself as Emir Ghazi Husain Jabbar."

The Colonel looked the Emir over before clearing his own throat and removing his pith helmet. He placed the helmet tightly under his arm before speaking up.

"I am Colonel Patricio Montojo of the Aragonese Imperial North African Regiment. I have orders to take over the city of Gabes, by assault if I must. I would wish for your cooperation so no blood would be spilt on either side," the Colonel said in Catalan.

The Captain quickly translated into Arabic and the Emir looked disgruntled by this. Slowly he stood up from his seat and stepped onto the desert sand. In one swift motion, he took hold of the hilt of his sword and pulled it out of it's sheath. The Aragonese soldiers quickly pulled out their guns and pointed them at the Emir. The Emir in turn did not even flinch. He placed his other hand beneath the blade of his scimitar, placed the blade horizontally in front of the Colonel and pointed the sharp edge of the blade towards himself. The Emir was handing out his sword to the Colonel, an act which made the soldiers lower their weapons. Colonel Montojo looked at the blade and took it into his hands with a bow before observing the delicate structure of it. A good sword was a thing of beauty.
The Colonel looked up at the Emir and then cleared his throat again.

"Captain Fahad! You just earned yourself the right to march your men into Gabes. Get your men and escort the Emir back. Secure the city and raise the Aragonese flag. The rest of you, get the Battallion back on the trucks. We're moving on to Medenine." The Colonel order before smiling and glanced at the sword. He took hold of the blade and offered the hilt back towards the Emir. As a sign of chivalry from Montojo, the Emir would get to keep his sword.
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