Poland at War

A nation of military tradition and ever tumultuous politics, the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth found itself in an impossible situation. Surrounded by enemies on almost every front, their defeat in a continental conflict was all but certain. Yet their national pride allows them to push onward. Their military, while not cutting edge, outperforms expectations. Even the political landscape, while complicated, may prove to be their greatest shield against full-scale invasion. Their throne may sit empty, but their state would not fracture like that of their enemy.

Poland had not engaged in a major war since the Italian Wars of the 1850s, but by the 1930s, it found itself increasingly entangled in the continent's complicated web of alliances and defensive pacts. Having annexed large territories in Belarus and Lithuania, the former Polish state had declared the rebirth of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth following a successful campaign against The Russian Empire in the 1830s. As a result however the Commonwealth found itself in possession of a lengthy and hard to secure front line stretching nearly 2000 kilometers. In 1936, Poland entered a defensive pact with France, solidifying its alignment against The Holy Roman Empire and its Russian allies, primarily as a defensive measure to secure the large swaths of territory formerly controlled by The Russian Empire. This partnership culminated in Poland's entry into The North Atlantic Alliance (NAA) in 1938, formally linking it with the French-American alliance.

When war broke out in 1938 between The League of Five Emperors and the NAA, the Commonwealth initially remained on the sidelines. While technically honoring their defensive agreements with the French government through an official declaration of war, unofficially neither side was ready to commit forces to an organized offensive. This early stage of the conflict saw Polish fatalities in the hundreds, with all fighting relegated to minor border skirmishes. Nonetheless, the Commonwealth military under Marshall-Regent Piłsudski remained concerned about the possibility of a massed Russian offensive into former Belarus, and the HRE military would much prefer to commit more of its forces to the western front. The Russian Empire, pressured by their HRE benefactors not to antagonize the Polish front in the face of its apparent stability, restricted their military efforts to a series of small scale border skirmishes and espionage efforts.

The conflict, while not yet intense, complicated the political situation in Poland. Following the decline of the monarchy and the death of Good King Bogdan Hutten-Czapski in 1937, the Polish government found itself in an interregnum, with the aging Józef Piłsudski serving as regent. His leadership maintained national unity and a strong military stance, but the absence of a crowned sovereign left Poland in a precarious diplomatic position, particularly in negotiations with other European powers. While Piłsudski’s military acumen ensured that Poland remained a formidable opponent, his declining health and the lack of a clear succession plan raised concerns about the long-term stability of the Commonwealth. Political factions within Poland debated the future of the state, with some advocating for a restoration of the monarchy, while others sought to solidify a new government under the Sejm.

Of the contenders for the vacant Polish crown, by far the most prestigious is Archduke Karl Albrecht of Teschen and Galicia. As the most senior member of the House Von Habsburg in the Polish region and hereditary lord of Kraków, Karl Albrecht has fiercely advocated for his ascendency to the Polish throne. While he, a Polish speaker and fierce advocate for his Polish subjects, is not without supporters, his popularity within the Commonwealth itself is highly dubious. There are many who publicly decry his claim as it would almost certainly result in the sublimation of Commonwealth lands into the sphere of influence of the HRE. However, as fighting on the Russian front increased in intensity and Commonwealth losses grew, the prospect that his ascension would stop the fighting caused his support to increase daily. Many Commonwealth citizens credit Karl Albrecht personally for the lack of significant engagements on the HRE border. For his part, Piłsudski has used his capacity as regent to prevent the Archduke from making significant inroads towards coronation, hoping that his own popularity and a successful defense of Commonwealth territory will be sufficient to maintain power.

In 1939 hostilities in Eastern Europe were reignited when the Moskovskaya Group, an influential Russian corporate entity, staged a false flag attack on a Smolensk suburb. On March 23, a unit of indentured Moskovskaya corporate assets disguised as members of the Commonwealth military staged an ineffectual attack on a power substation several miles west of Smolensk, with instructions to execute any Russian civilians they encountered. The attack was allowed to progress for six hours before elite corporate units arrived and made short work of their own disguised forces, leaving no survivors to report the truth to the Russian authorities and allowing Moskovskaya to claim responsibility for a daring defense of the city. The Russian central government, unable to ignore the provocation, hastily and publicly announced a major offensive into Commonwealth territory. Russian forces would cross the Commonwealth border in force only three days later.

Despite an official state of war between the two powers, Russian forces were stretched thin. The empire’s military command, preoccupied with internal security, the need to pacify unrest in Central Asia, could not commit sufficient forces to engage the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth decisively. Moreover, while Russia and The Holy Roman Empire were allied in the conflict, the HRE’s struggles against French forces left it unwilling to allocate significant resources to the Polish front. This resulted in an eerie period of posturing and small-scale surges rather than full-scale battles. Russian troops occupied key defensive positions along the frontier, while Polish-Lithuanian forces, composed of highly mobile cavalry and motorized divisions, conducted rapid maneuvers to probe enemy defenses, testing weaknesses without launching a full invasion. Many Russian casualties were accrued in this period, but ultimately the swift nature of battles allowed many soldiers to later recover, or at the least survive. High profile figures on the home front held up any Polish victory as a major triumph, regardless of the scale.

One of the more contentious political developments was the fate of Königsberg and Riga. While these free cities were surrounded by Polish divisions, they were within Holy Roman Empire territory as a result of centuries-old concessions. Their burgomasters managed to negotiate a tenuous neutrality, declaring them open cities. This maneuver, which prevented immediate occupation, outraged Russian officials, who saw it as an act of betrayal by their nominal ally. Moscow accused local leaders of cowardice and complicity with Poland, though in reality, the arrangement prevented further escalation and humanitarian disaster. For its part, the HRE war council publicly decried the effort, but privately endorsed the actions of the respective burgomasters as necessary to prevent an escalation on the Eastern Imperial border when more attention was needed on the French front. The neutralization of these cities served two purposes: it preserved crucial trade routes for non-military goods and provided a buffer that neither side was willing to breach without severe international repercussions. In time the cities became hubs of espionage, hosting a mixture of Polish, Russian, HRE, and Nordic operatives vying for intelligence and influence.

On the eastern frontier, Russian offensives into Polish-controlled territories slowly intensified, ultimately proving disastrous. The boyar aristocracy, many of whom had longstanding ties to the Polish government, resisted full cooperation with St. Petersburg. Divided loyalties and logistical difficulties prevented effective coordination, leading to repeated setbacks for Russian forces. Polish-Lithuanian maneuver warfare—rooted in centuries of cavalry-based strategy but now incorporating hastily retrofitted motorized units—proved devastatingly effective, repeatedly outflanking Russian forces and disrupting their supply lines. Russian offensives simply collapsed under the weight of poor coordination, unreliable logistical networks, and the unwillingness of local elites to fully commit to the war effort.

In response, Russian authorities launched a series of purges and military reforms, but these only served to deepen internal fractures, as officers and aristocrats alike questioned the state’s overall strategic vision. The ultimate result of these purges was the further weakening of Boyar control over the military, and the replacement of many purged military officials with corporate liaisons. Traditionally the officer commissions were either provided to families with a long established history of military service or sold to worthy members of the aristocracy. However, the willingness of many corporations to purchase military commissions which they then allocated to corporate officers proved effective. Private corporate assets often proved themselves highly competent offensively in places where the regular Russian army had failed. The most notable example of this is the Moskovskaya-led assault on the city of Brześć in late May 1939. Following two failed attempts by the 1st, 3rd, and 8th Ryazan Hussar Regiments to take the city, saboteurs were able to infiltrate and largely disable the city’s defenses after the detonation of a series of bombs targeting key military infrastructure. This allowed the deployment of elite corporate forces to swiftly capture the territory with minimal resistance.

Corporate funding and lobbying encouraged the Russian central government to maintain hostilities, even as military realities suggested de-escalation. Financial interests such as those of the Moskovskaya Group shaped military procurement, leading to the rapid deployment of unconventional technologies, such as the feared and highly experimental weather modification systems. Industrial magnates and arms manufacturers profited immensely from the prolonged conflict, further entrenching corporate influence in state decision-making. Even lightly injured troops from the first wave of conflict proved profitable, as Technik companies leased out prosthetics and other assistive technologies to redeploy troops quickly. By late 1939, the Russian war machine was as much a tool of economic expansionism as it was an instrument of national defense, with corporate-backed factions within the imperial bureaucracy pushing for continued support and ever greater investment into military spending.

Despite their successes in maneuver warfare, Polish-Lithuanian counterattacks into Russian territory met an unexpected and insurmountable obstacle: the empire’s deployment of experimental weather modification technology. Russian "winter machines" unleashed artificial blizzards, burying advancing Polish divisions in deep snow and disrupting supply lines. This technological advantage ensured that while Poland could dominate the battlefield in favorable conditions, deep incursions into Russian territory remained infeasible. The effectiveness of these weather machines reshaped military doctrine, forcing Poland to develop alternative strategies for dealing with environmental manipulation in warfare. The most notable of these developments was the decentralization of logistical networks, and the overprovisioning of units on the frontline.

By late 1939, the Russo-Polish conflict had settled into an uneasy equilibrium. Russia’s inability to commit full-scale forces, combined with Poland’s tactical superiority but strategic limitations, ensure that neither side can claim total victory. The Cold War on the Western Front remained a war of positioning and political intrigue. The standoff could ignite into a full-scale conflict at any moment, but for now remained frozen in place, much like the snow-covered battlefields shaped by Russia’s weather machines in the east. The inability of any parties to significantly change the status quo has drawn more and more attention to the status of the vacant Commonwealth throne. It seems to many that what can not be decided through violence must be decided through politics. Piłsudski, for his part, remains convinced that the indomitable spirit of the Commonwealth and its citizens will see them through the coming adversity, and bring the state into a new period of prosperity after the defeat of the Russian forces and a negotiated settlement with the HRE. Many within the highest levels of Commonwealth government privately ask themselves how much the Commonwealth will have to sacrifice for peace.