Re: Blood and Iron

While Washington was in deadlock, arguing on whether or not the most recent wave of insurrection in their South-Pacific holdings required immediate action or simple reprisal, the colonel in charge of Manila's garrison had taken it upon himself to act without orders from the suits in charge.

Frankly speaking, Colonel James Whitford had run out of patience in dealing with these attacks from a reactive standpoint.

Their Rules of Engagement were woefully inefficient; they were waiting to be attacked in order to return fire.

And the hit-and-run tactics the enemy used made that damn near impossible to fight effectively. Because of this, he had summoned the big guns.

The Philippines were not exactly a territory teeming with armor, but artillery? They had some leftover guns from the Spanish-American War and the first Philippine Insurrection that could get the job done.

Towed into firing range by motorized transport, the American Army set up the artillery at just the right distance. All the while, the officer in charge of the regiment gave the command:

"Open fire!"

The guns echoed like thunder, so much so that the locals genuinely thought a storm had conjured itself. And they were half right about that.

A storm had suddenly appeared; but it was not one of thunder, lightning, and rain. Rather, it was fire and fury from an angry god. And that god was the United States Army.

The olive drab-clad artillery soldiers plugged their ears as the shots rang out, sending shells downrange with artillery that, on any other battlefield, would be considered obsolete. Their target?

An unsuspecting rural village, which intelligence suggested was harboring members of Anak ng Silangan. The village was allegedly being used as a safe house and storage hub. Arms, munitions, and ordnance were said to be located there.

Because of this, Colonel James Whitford ordered it be removed from the map entirely. And so it was.

The citizens of the village cried out in agony as their homes were destroyed, their loved ones engulfed in the blast, and they themselves wounded by flame and shrapnel alike.

Then, after the artillery barrage had concluded, the infantry moved in—bayonets affixed, rifles loaded.

Their orders were simple: eliminate any survivors and scour the wreckage for proof of the village's sins.

Thus, a bloody cleanup began—one that would be far more disastrous for the United States Army than they initially expected.

Back in Manila, word of the bombardment spread fast. Survivors, those few who had fled before the shells fell, arrived in nearby towns covered in soot and blood, wailing of fire from the sky and steel-hearted soldiers who stabbed the wounded where they lay.

Church bells rang for the dead, and whispers of the "Manila Massacre" began to circulate, even among loyalist communities.

What began as a secretive rebellion now took on the weight of martyrdom, its flames fanned not by ideology, but by grief.

And as funerals were held in silence, and fists clenched over fresh graves, many who once hesitated now found their hearts hardened, ready to answer the call to arms.

---

In the city of Taipei, Lucban sat, dressed in normal civilian clothing, drinking a beer locally brewed at an innocuous establishment.

By his side were two other Filipino men, both young adults; short hair, clean-shaven, and of a fit build. Clearly military, or at the very least paramilitary, types to those who knew the signs to look for.

Eventually, a man sat down across from them, flanked by two similar-looking younger men. However, these three were Japanese, not Filipino. Even so, they greeted Lucban and his men in perfect Tagalog.

"The Emperor sends his well wishes. Due to the circumstances we find ourselves in with the Russians and the Germans, we can't be seen supplying or training you directly. But we have intelligence, weapons, munitions, and most importantly, advisors who can assist you in your operations."

Lucban naturally knew these things would not come without some conditions. And thus, he was quick to voice these very thoughts.

"Let me guess: all your emperor asks of us is that we kneel and be eternally loyal as his subjects the moment we throw off the yoke of the Americans?"

The Japanese officer received strange glances from his subordinates but said nothing, simply eyeing them in a way that silently told them to restrain themselves. He then fixed his civilian tie before clearing his throat.

"That is to be expected, yes."

Lucban surprised everyone at the table when he responded swiftly. "Deal. You give us what we need, and you can expect your generosity reciprocated. But only after we have won the war and driven every foreigner out of our lands."

There was a shake of hands and an agreement made between the two parties, with further details to be communicated at a later date.

As for Lucban, the moment they were out of earshot of the Japanese, his men interrogated him on the spot.

"What the hell, man? We trade one master for another? What, just because they're Asian you think they'll be any better?"

Lucban looked at the revolutionary as if he were an idiot, and his tone was equally accusatory.

"Not in the slightest. Did you hear what I said? Your generosity will be reciprocated, but only after we have driven every foreigner out of our lands. I never said I would kneel before them and accept them as our overlords. After all, the Japanese are foreigners to our lands too, aren't they?"

The two men stared at their fearless leader as if he were the most brilliant man they had ever met.

"Sir... you're a fucking genius."

Lucban, apparently lacking humility, wrapped his arms around the shoulders of the two men while completely agreeing with them.

"I know."

Lucban and his men would only learn of the massacre outside Manila after they had returned to their homeland. And when they did, they didn't know whether to grieve or rejoice.

Because the US Army's actions had stirred the public to such an extent, they now had a long list to recruit new soldiers from.

All the while, Washington would continue to bicker over how to solve the solution, until bodies piled up and American citizens began to notice their own were coming home in caskets from a part of the world they had never heard of before.