Reich Marshal of the Belkan Reich

The smoky atmosphere over Dunkirk has made it so that one can hardly determine the time visually. Lost in the gripping heat of battle, death, and destruction, many Eruseans and Belkans find themselves surprised that the precipe of dusk draws near. When Lord Gort calls for the white flag to be raised over the Erusean Expeditionary Force's last headquarters, one can hardly see the thing flying over the mansion. The last rays of sunset fail to penetrate the Fog of War over Dunkirk, so the white flags fail to be highlighted and registered in the eyes of many. There's a noticeable delay, with Erusean runners trying to call their peers to lay down their arms before both sides stop fighting. What follows afterward are tense minutes of silence. Due to the intense fighting, one can hardly see any other animal, sparing some rats and roaches. The city feels like a dead one if not for the droning of Belkan war engines and ship horns in the harbor area.

Still, it takes but one Erusean to step outside his garrison before the rest soon follow. Some remove themselves from the dirtied trenches. Others lean against sandbags and broken walls out of sheer exhaustion. One by one, the Eruseans vacate their fighting positions. Although their hands are still clutching their weapons, they're in no shape to fight as they come onto the streets in droves. Ashen as the air may be, the Erusean soldiers find themselves cherishing the polluted air, taking in deep breaths as if they will be their last. It takes fighting with one foot through Death's door that one will treasure every aspect of life, and the Eruseans sure learn that lesson the hard way. Mentally drained, the Eruseans don't even care that they're out in the open, making themselves easy targets for the Belkan Army that is looking at them mere meters away. While both factions were fighting just minutes ago, they're now keeping a respectful distance away from each other. The Eruseans need some time to get their business sorted before the Belkan can send in their delegation to receive their official surrender.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Lord Gort prizes himself as having seen and experienced a great many things. Still, to stand in front of his men, hundreds and thousands of them, as a defeated General... Yeah, that will be a first. Stepping up onto a makeshift podium, created using munition crates, Lord Gort carries with himself a megaphone. The megaphone is a necessity for Gort, just because there are many, many Eruseans right before him. From the ruined manor to the streets, the alleys, the windows of the buildings beyond... There's a sea of Erusean soldiers ahead of Lord Gort, his voice alone will be insufficient to reach them all.

Lord Gort, panning his gaze left to right, takes in the sight of his subordinates, his soldiers who chose to follow a stubborn coot like him. None of them appear clean, or presentable, with a great many being injured. Some are light, others are bad enough they have their whole torsos wrapped with rags for bandages. The grievously wounded ones are, of course, sent ahead to be cared for by the Belkans. Those who are still here are just the soldiers who find it in their hearts to respect Lord Gort's authority... Hopefully. Or it can be that they have nowhere else to go, nobody else to follow, that they choose to stay and listen to what Lord Gort has to say. Lord Gort finds himself related to their circumstances. He was once a soldier like them, blinded and bound to a cause he didn't fully understand. Now a General, Lord Gort finds himself stringing these young souls along like his superior did to him back then. The soldiers went to war with promises of glory, righteousness, of being saviors, and what did they get in return? Defeats, losses, deaths, they're made crippled mentally if not physically. Gone are the spirited faces, and the peppy spring in each of their footsteps, what remains are just hammered souls, tired and so done with this life of theirs.

Was it worth it? Was it worth it to bring two generations of men to fight a war that was no different from a wholesale slaughter? No, it's not worth it, especially when you're the defeated party. The EEF was crushed so thoroughly that they, despite Lord Gort's best efforts, may be nothing more than a disgrace in the annals of history. That was two generations of towns and cities, more than 300000 souls that were condemned on a path of no return. Nearly half of that number will never get to wake up again, while many survivors will find themselves being deformed beyond recognizable, their spirits and forms twisted by the thirteen days of constant warring. These traumas, these losses, these crimes... All of them can be traced back to the deployment order signed by the Erusean King and his Prime Minister. Yet, it's ultimately Lord Gort who has to bear the greatest of sins for paving a path, though with righteous intentions, straight to Hell.

Lord Gort can go on and on about what he did wrong or who was to blame. He can spout endlessly on what could have been and how he could have prevented this loss or another. The EEF General can espouse sincerely just how deep his regret is for, well, everything... But he chooses not to. Having faced the Belkans, Lord Gort doesn't find it in himself to say that he is a wise man, not anymore. He now considers himself as only a gentleman, and just that alone.

And a gentleman doesn't shy from admitting the truth.

Raising his megaphone, Lord Gort says.

"This is General John Standish Surtees Prendergast Vereker, but you may know me as Lord Gort, and today, on this very evening, I can proudly say this... We have been defeated. I am not one to mince words, nor will I sugarcoat it, not when things have reached this point, especially not when I am in front of the finest soldiers I have ever led to war! For thirteen days, we have faced an insurmountable wall, and we have climbed, fought, and bled upon it! There have been battles, there have been losses, and we have tasted defeat so many times that it has numbed us all. Food tastes like ashes and water feels like the blood of the deceased. You all have proven yourselves time and time again, and yet today, I have asked for more from you, the broken. When asked to climb that wall, you all have done so admirably, going above and beyond what I could have ever asked of you. For one whole day, you all have valiantly seized the top of that wall and held it on a backfoot, whereas others would have stumbled, and failed. Your actions, your unsung accomplishments, the blood you shed and the sacrifices you made... All of them will go on to become your marks, not of victory, but of valor. Let every one of you walk, right out that gate..."

Lord Gort raises his arm, swinging in the direction of the manor's gate that is linked to the main streets of Dunkirk.

"... And walk right down that road with your heads high! You stride out there, not to surrender, but to accept a well-deserved outcome! An outcome shaped by what you did, what you achieved in the face of overwhelming odds! Leave the consequences, the politics, the uncouth decisions for us, for me, to handle! For trusting in me, for fighting under my command in the bloodiest of battles, you will march out there, not as losers, but as soldiers of the Erusean Expeditionary Force! Screw the history books, you all don't have to worry about them being kind, because today, you have defined yourselves through your actions! You did not abandon your brothers! You did not desert your position! You all have battled till the last grenade was thrown, the last bullet was shot, and the last knife was broken! You all fought more than you have to! You all made a stand here so that in the remaining half of your lives, surrounded by the ones you hold dears and they ask 'What did you do in the Battle of Dunkirk?'"

Lord Gort takes a deep breath, the sound of which is even broadcasted through his megaphone.

"You can look at them in the eyes and answer 'I didn't give up.'"

Getting one good look at his soldiers, his boys, Lord Gort says with all the respect he can muster.

"Soldiers of the Erusean Expeditionary Force, I am proud to have led you today. Come Hell or high water, let me now be the one to fight for you all."

Lord Gort salutes, shouting.

"God saves the King!"

All at once, the now teary eyes and emotional Eruseans mirror Lord Gort's action.

"GOD SAVES THE KING!"

Despite everything, the respect the soldiers hold for Lord Gort never seems to fade. In fact, it seems to be growing stronger, reinforced by the actions Lord Gort made to ensure the interests and well-being of his soldiers, as conflicting as it may sound. Then again, this is war, and the unlikeliest of things can happen in one.

------------------------------------------------------@@novelbin@@

Out of sheer respect for the bravery, integrity, and ingenuity the Eruseans display when the whole deck is stacked against them, General Belladonna of Army Group B allows Lord Gort and his EEF to march out of Dunkirk with full honor. The EEF is allowed to keep their weapons and vehicles to form a parade march. A Belkan military band will be attached to the procession, playing nothing but Erusean marching songs. Food, drinks, and medical supplies are given to Lord Gort's staff so that they can be distributed among the EEF forming the parade. Finally, the Belkans gift a seized luxury convertible officer car for Lord Gort to use. When everything is said and done, Lord Gort boards the passenger seat of the car, letting his driver take the lead in the parade that spans from the beaches of Dunkirk, the humanitarian corridor, to the rear of the Belkan line where Thomas the Hospital is.

It's a sight to behold, an experience to remember. It's a one-in-a-lifetime event, a never-before-seen parade where the victors salute the losing force and sing praises for them. While the Belkan military band is playing the Erusean national songs, surviving members of the EEF's band join in with their bagpipes and trumpets. Erusean soldiers who are weak and stumble along the way are helped back on their feet by the Belkans, with both sides trading respectful nods of appreciation at one another. By the beach, the Reichsmarine lines up some warships to perform gun salutes, firing one salvo after another. Walking through the humanitarian corridor, the Eruseans march beneath the raised barrels of Leopard MBTs and Class-C Pumas, with their steps illuminated by the lights of the armored vehicles. Going further beyond and near Thomas the Hospital, General Belladonna herself comes out to receive Lord Gort and his soldiers of valor. Lord Gort then steps out of his car and General Belladonna dismounts her Humvee before both sides come to a stop in front of each other, alongside their staff. The two Generals at first stay silent, gleaming at the sincerity and respect they have in the other's eyes. Ultimately, having learned what they need through eye contact, the two military leaders salute simultaneously. Surprisingly, Lord Gort and General Belladonna exchange objects of honor with one another. Lord Gort passes over his heirloom sword, a symbol of his nobility. General Belladonna gifts the Erusean a silver and ornate C96M select-fire pistol, a weapon signifying one's status as a General or Admiral of the Belkan military. They then seal the deal with a firm handshake, and with that, the EEF officially surrenders to General Belladonna who will go on to uphold stipulations and treat the Erusean POWs right and just. All of this, from start to finish, is well-documented and clarified for propaganda purposes.

ONI Section Three will be having a field day with all the ultra-high definition footage and audio, but that will be a story for another day.

Now that Dunkirk has fallen and the biggest thorn in the European theater is eliminated... Things don't change much for the Marshal we all know and love. Sure, there will be praises and songs in her name, but the kill carries on. There's still a Paris, the soon-to-be-an-issue Warsaw, and the last annoyance that is London. It's not even half a month yet, but things are setting up for a massive showdown that will destabilize the rest of the world as they know it. All of this trouble for a World without Boundaries better be worth it... Jokes, of course, it will be worth it.

The Reich Marshal will make sure of that, even if she has to drag the whole of Gaia kicking and screaming.