Josephine

𝓔𝓹𝓲𝓼𝓸𝓭𝓮 35: 𝓐 𝓒𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓿𝓮𝓭

February 1, 1973

Montreal, Quebec Authority 

My soldiers milled around a war-torn Montreal as citizens lay around on the street corners begging for food. It had been a month since the offensive began and massive progress had been made. Toronto, Mississauga, and Sudbury were in our hands. The Western Armies were wheeling their trucks at breakneck speed towards Kingston, which will finally secure the great lakes. The war was so close to ending.

On an even better note, the blizzard had subsided for about two days and wasn't likely to return for another three weeks. That gave us prime conditions to follow up on our astonishing gains. The rebels were falling back everywhere except the Maritime Republic, which had been dealt a devastating blow in and of itself. Admiral Georges Kuto had annihilated the budding Maritime fleet last week, sinking 130 of its 200 ships and crippling 38 more, for a total score of 168. I had 35,000 troops advancing on Quebec City. Every domino was falling into place with no issues.

"Giovanni, what blow do you think needs to be dealt to get these rebels to surrender?" I asked my brother-in-law.

We stood together overlooking the Saint Lawrence River. He had traveled here to give me an update on how the offensive was going and so far I was very pleased with the results.

"Josephine, in my opinion, West Canada needs to lose Ottawa and Hull, but Quebec... those Frenchman are tough fighters I wouldn't guarantee the fall of Quebec City would be enough to break them, especially with metropolitan France supporting them,"

That fact had not been brought to my attention. Does the French Republic support French-speaking rebels? Blasted little frogs!

"Wait, wait, metropolitan France? How do you know they support the rebels?" I asked him, "Better yet, how am I not aware of this fact!?"

"French supply ships have been docking at Anticosti Island, where our spies have reported weapon smuggling and uniform smuggling to Sept-Iles where they are then distributed among rebel ranks," Giovanni replied.

"Well that has to be done, but we cannot make it clear that we know that France is supporting them in order to avoid international ridicule," I stated.

"How do you suggest you do that, I mean, you'll have to forward this to Prime Minister Palmerston... but what would your plan be?" Giovanni asked.

"A large exclusion zone off the East coast of North America, tell the world that no matter what, foreign ships, neutral or not will be sunk without consequence,"

Giovanni pursed his lips, raised his eyebrow, and nodded, clearly impressed with my idea. He finished jotting down this information on a notepad, previously hidden in his coat.

"I will transfer this down to the prime minister as soon as possible, Josephine," He said before leaving.

It felt good to be called my birth name. Since Giovanni was not a subject, he did not have to call me 'your majesty' or 'your grace'. The second title was rarely used but it still was by foreign dignitaries.

A gentle breeze tickled through my hair as I glanced around the battered city. Having been contested for almost three years, having exchanged hands multiple times, the people here were starved and actually cheered when we captured the city, hoping that we would rebuild the city from the ground up.

"Y-your majesty?" Someone asked.

I turned expecting to see a soldier, but instead, I saw a young boy, no older than ten. He was dressed in tattered clothing, he was starved to the bone. It was heartbreaking. I kneeled down to his height.

"Yes?" I asked.

"D-do you have any food?" He asked.

My eyes watered up but I restrained myself and shoved the tears away. I really hated my response, but it was brutal honesty.

"I am sorry, I don't have food with me," I said, choking on my own words.

He looked so saddened, but at the same time like he had expected it. He sniffled and nodded. I placed my hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes.

"But I promise you, with every bone in my body, that you will not go hungry much longer... not you... not your family... not anybody in this city... no one will starve anymore..."

His green eyes twinkled in hope.

"I believe in you, your majesty!"

I smiled and patted his shoulder.

"That's good to hear, now go on, your parents are probably looking for you," I said.

"Emmanuel! Get over here! Get away from her!" A woman shouted.

"Coming mom!" The boy 'Emmanuel' replied.

He then turned and ran back over where he hugged the woman, presumably his mother. It was heartwarming to see a mother and her child having such a warm relationship, something I, unfortunately, did not have.

"Your majesty, an urgent letter from Major Monmouth," A soldier said from behind me.

I turned to face the soldier, he was one of the younger ones, perhaps below the accepted age limit. I waved my hand, motioning for him to hand me the letter. He did as I silently ordered and I opened the paper.

Your majesty-

A large problem has arisen. At the time of the writing of this message, our armies are sixty-five miles from the outskirts of Ottawa. Recon aircraft have identified far stronger defenses in the city itself. I am referring to over 40,000 troops, air defenses up the metaphorical koozoo, and at least twenty French heavy battle tanks and a strong artillery corp in the center of the city. Attacking the city, even with our combined forces would be a long bloody fight. Hans, Martin, and I have discussed what to do but we cannot agree on anything. Potential options are to dig in and besiege the city, but that will take just as long if not longer. Or if it is possible that you can march west, attacking from both directions will surely strain the enemy. Then we can march as one force on Ottawa and crush the West Canadian uprising once and for all.

-Major Wilfred Monmouth

Great. Our progress was so fantastic and now it's going to stall out! I had planned on marching to Quebec City but I guess that's not happening now. I cannot- will not let my soldiers drown in a needlessly bloody battle.

But do I blatantly ignore my commander's pleas to secure my lines? Or do I do the moral thing and support them. On one hand, Quebec, which has been a huge thorn in our side for years, will finally be knocked out and then the war will end in a week. On the other, we unite to crush West Canada, another pain, and march eastward and let the war drag on for a while longer. But as much as I want to let the commanders win their own battles, I know which choice is the right one.

I guess I'm taking a trip to Ottawa.