Yesterday's Great Ship World, Prussia.
It had been three years since Ferdinand, the heir apparent of Germany, had been assassinated by Serbian extremists while inspecting the Crown Land of Illyria, igniting the fuse of the great war between the Central Powers and the Entente Powers.
At first, everyone had optimistically believed they would be reunited with their families before Christmas.
But the brutality of the war far exceeded their imagination.
At the Battle of the Somme on the Western Front, tens of thousands of soldiers had died in a single day. Now, with the third Christmas just around the corner, the end of the war was still nowhere in sight.
Outside the command post, soldiers withdrawn from the front to rest sat lazily around campfires, roasting their foul-smelling feet, diseased from long soaking in the filthy water and mud of the trenches.
Some soldiers rolled cigarettes and smoked them listlessly.
Nearly everyone was silent, like dull machines. Not even the officers' urging and curses could make them shift their asses.
Inside the command post, William II, Elector Prince of Brandenburg, lay resting on a campaign bed, wrapped in a thin blanket.
In the staff room beside him, numerous staff officers clattered away at typewriters, printing the vast quantities of documents that were about to be distributed to divisional combat units. Germany's Eastern Army Corps was preparing a long-planned offensive.
Ring! Ring! Ring!
The shrill telephone woke William. He vigorously rubbed his haggard face with his right hand, then quickly picked up the receiver.
"This is Eastern Army Corps Headquarters."
"Yes, this is William."
"What? The military aid promised by the Englishmen has been requisitioned? Under whose orders? The German Emperor? Bullshit! This must be the doing of you bastards at Western Front Command!"
"I'll ask the German Emperor myself, you