Transcription
[Music] Hey there champ, how's it going?
Not great. We're in an active war zone, if you couldn't tell.
Tell me about it. These Uber delivery fees are basically war crimes, and I would know. Say, guys, have Kudoba yet? Oh, I don't have time for this. I got to get out of here before the Australians finish me off.
What are you talking about? There's no one over there.
What then? Who shot me?
Oh, that. That would be a can of piss. What?
It's late 1915. World War I is ramping up intensity, and Anzac forces are not feeling the whole "great part of the Great War." 880,000 of them are cornered in Gallipoli. The Ottomans are ready to finish them officially, and their only hope to survive was to evacuate expeditiously. But there was one glaring issue with the retreat: if the Ottomans were to notice, it was predicted they would send up the 30,000 men from the land down under to the land down six feet under. So they came up with a nifty plan to pull off this miracle evacuation.
What if they retreated by not doing so? Or more specifically, convincing the Ottomans that they were still having a grand old time playing in their trenches, all whilst actually scurrying to their comfy metal float floats to help pull off this ghost army masquerade? Was the wondrous drip rifle? Not that kind. Essentially working from home, but without the Clash of Clans in your underwear part.
A drip rifle was a gun that was rigged with a delayed firing mechanism, consisting of two cans and a bit of string. The top can would be filled with water and slowly drip into the bottom one until Isaac Newton took the wheel and pulled the trigger with the nerd magic of gravity. However, given the fact that fresh water was rather, rather scarce for Anzac and Gallipoli, there's a non-zero chance that some of these cans were given the old golden shower treatment to operate, making it undoubtedly some of the finest work ever graced by Australian hands. Other than yours truly.
Therefore, after the rear guard set up a bunch of these with dummies and smoked a platoon worth of cigarettes each to make the trenches appear full of men, or trains, they were able to safely evacuate with remote gunfire masking their withdraw from the Ottomans, who were none the wiser. But anyway, that is a Tarantino amount of blood behind you, so one could say you're in for a bad time. Today, we're learning about wacky war tactics, yet again.
[Music] I watch you while you sleep, or at least I could be with the new limited edition Blue Jay figure. I just couldn't get my fix of breaking and entering last time, so I barged back into the You's lab to cook up this dashing little scallywag, complete with a tricorn hat, bandana, and cannon. This vinyl figure is perfect for all your whimsical pirate needs and definitely does not contain a radio transmitter. It took a few prototypes to get right, finding the right orphan muse's heart, after all. But nevertheless, we are able to come up with a stunning, swashbuckling Blue Jay to honor the channel's pirate phase earlier this year. You's gave me complete creative input over not only the design of the figure but the box design itself, meaning every crack, crevice, and vaguely threatening language was strategically crafted by yours truly. I didn't think they'd let me say this. Those wonderful YouTwo servants really went all out with this one, and it's honestly the second coolest thing I've ever received after your mom's number. But it's only available for a limited time, so if you want to complete your Blue Jay You's jar collection or send me even more videos of you torturing my merchandise, click the link in the description to snag yours before it's gone forever.
And now, back to the video.
Now, in my last installment, I talked about how the Persians defeated Egypt at Pelusium by using cats, a story with shaky reliability that others rightfully called me out on. That thumbnail was a joke, by the way. Since then, I've redoubled my efforts into verifying the accuracy of stories and disclosing when liability can't be fully determined. Ancient history is always a blurry topic, after all. And while this first story takes place around the same time as the Battle of Pelusium, the tale of cat warfare was first reported 700 years after the fact and only comes from a single source.
Today's story has two ancient China, the Spring and Autumn period, also known as history's first battle royale, with something like 1200 states vying for power, including the Qi, or the fancy Chi, or the letter E, when they weren't competing for a name that sounded the most like a Pokémon with brain damage. They spent their time kickstarting many major philosophies, such as Confucianism to guide people on morality, or Taoism to guide hippies on their first tattoos. But above all these Chinese states enjoyed their art, like War. The Art of War by Sun Tzu is potentially written during this period, a military text made famous for its revolutionary tactical advice, like give your soldiers food and think before you move. This priceless knowledge was studied by Helü, the king of Wu, who utilized it along with the legendary man himself to squat up and wage wars, cranking 90s on his neighbors, trying to clutch that dub. And the next stop on his way to a victory royale was his demure neighbor down south.
I did it, but at what cost? Upon hearing of the death of its leader, Hu seized the opportunity to wage war on the state of Yue as it was transitioning to its new king. So, with their crosshairs set, the state of Wu prepared for their invasion.
All right, boys, before we go, let's just check our little manual here. Uh, food. Make sure to bring food, guys. Genius. Of course. I love swallowing objects. And it looks like we need something called fire. Fire? What? Oh, it like air, but when angry. Oh, you mean bad touch? Excellent. And we also need candy for every soldier. Wait, this thing is fresh. Who wrote this? Maybe it's a new update.
While being invaded by the local superpower with a military influenced by one of the most legendary generals of all time was a less than ideal way to celebrate a new promotion, Guan was nonetheless determined to resist. But fighting such a renowned military required some cunning. It required some wit. It required a cutthroat mentality. Wait, that's it. Taking my advice a bit too literally.
In one battle, Guan reportedly sent three waves of convicted criminals toward the Wu front lines, where, with a great shout, they proceeded to cut their own throats. Now, different sources claim that they are actually soldiers willing to die instead of criminals, but either way, the goal here, other than giving me content, was to leave the Wu forces stupefied and intimidated. However, I can see this plan easily backfiring.
That's right. We're [ __ ] crazy. You better surrender. Holy [ __ ] sir, I don't think I could fight them. This is insane. Hold on, Corporal. Just, just hold on. What's a Corporal? Oh my God, that's insane. That it is. Could you imagine how scary it would be if they did that again? Um, that's right. We're demented. B Squadron, show them. Oh, the humanity. What Eldridge horrors await if these demons were to descend upon us? Horror indeed. I just might surrender if they did that yet again. Right. [ __ ] Squadron C, show these men before the eyes of our gods what we're capable of. Sweet heavens, my men are truly cowering in fear, as they should. Now, if they were to show us yet another time.
But unfortunately for them, The Art of War didn't cover what to do if the enemy soldiers [ __ ] killed themselves. So when the Yue forces launched a surprise attack from another direction, the stunned soldiers were promptly defeated. As with all ancient history, a certain amount of faith is required when learning about its stories. However, I'm more inclined to believe this tale, as its sources are often considered some of the most trustworthy in ancient history, and the tale is recounted by sinology experts. Today, cutting one's throat was a rather common way to commit suicide, after all. And because death was viewed quite differently around this time, the soldiers may have believed their sacrifice would be rewarded in the afterlife. And if they had been criminals, some theorize their families may have been threatened to ensure their compliance. And you know, not like run over to the other side.
I spent a lot of time tracking down, verifying, and independently translating various sources. Shout out to Kevin's dad. So if any YouTubers are looking to make some content, I hope they are satisfied with this disclosure. That was a joke, by the way.
As for the defeated King Helü, he was mortally wounded in the Battle of the Deep Throat Cuts but lived long enough to tell his son and soon-to-be king to never forget about Yue. And so, holding his dying father's hand, his son made a vow: "I was never going to give Yue up. Never going to let Yue down."
Jumping forward 100 years, we have the Persian Empire at the top of their game. They've been balling around the peasants of the Fertile Crescent and are now the largest empire by any assessment. With the recovery of Egypt, an economy full of riches, the future was looking bright for little old Persia's business. You know, so long as a Greek boy with a city-naming habit doesn't come along.
It's 334 BC, and the Persian Empire is being invaded by a man so legendary, so mental, that his world-altering conquests and exploits would forever land him with the name Alexander the Great. That is, unless he subscribed to my theory. Yeah, I don't know. He's weirdly close with that cavalry commander. Probably not the only saddle who's riding. Call me crazy, but I just don't think Alexander is straight.
What was that, dude? I was just saying that Alexander is great. What's going on over here? Bab Alex. Ah, he's fast. Finish getting that city named after me. Which one? Alexandria. Alexandria, or Alexandria Alexandria? Oh, yes. Paperwork's been submitted. Excellent. Oh, hey, Alexander the Great. Make sure to write that one down.
A few years in, and Alexander's been slapping around Darius pretty good. And after taking over modern-day Turkey, it was time to plan their next move.
All right, that was a great victory. Now for diplomacy. Go further. That's a fantastic idea. No, sir. Should we not engage the Persians in negotiations so as to not overextend ourselves and risk hemorrhaging our forces against the largest empire known to man? My sweet, Cuss. No. Alexander was determined to push further east, conquering the whole of Persia. But first, he knew he had to secure his supply lines from the danger of the Persian navy, making him the second military mastermind in history to uncover the divine wisdom: soldier need food. And to achieve the security and control the Mediterranean, the city of Tyre needed to fall.
There was just one small problem with that, though. All right, Tyre should be right around here. Ohoh, looks like it's an island, sir. Mhm. But what if it wasn't? What? Without a strong enough navy of his own, Alexander decided that peninsulas were in fashion and ordered his men to throw fuckloads of rocks in the water to build a land bridge all the way to the fortified island of Tyre. However, this would be no easy project. The island was supported by a navy, surrounded by lofty walls, and was a whole kilometer off the coast, but impregnable wasn't a word Alexander liked hearing.
This will be a monumental task. Not to mention the city is near impregnable. Hey, I have no problem impregnating. I'm the king of Macedonia, after all. Right. So anyway, if we want this to work, we're going to have to figure out how to get it up. Who told you that? That was one time. Cuss, is Mary running that [ __ ] mouth again? No, sir. I'm sorry. Please don't be too hard on me. I have no problem getting hard. Call him Alexander Deflay. What was that, dude? I said you're Alexander the Great. You have a magnificent [ __ ], sir.
Now, chucking enough rocks in the ocean to build a causeway wide enough to shove multiple siege towers out towards our great Lord Cthulhu is quite the exhausting task. But luckily for Alexander, there were plenty of local hands perfectly capable of carrying rocks nearby, and they were just too excited to help. All that's needed now is a bountiful supply of rocks. Well, these aren't being used. The Tyrians saw them toiling away, planting rocks and sticks in the water, and decided to help out by supplying some of their. And while I'm sure the gesture was appreciated, their aid had the unfortunate side effect of spray-painting the bridge red.
Alexander, not vibing with this design direction, built a palisade to protect the workers, along with two siege towers at the end of the bridge. However, the Tyrians, much like George Bush, were determined to destroy the two towers, so they stuffed a few ships with incendiary materials and crashed them into the structures, burning them to the ground. But Alexander was rather skeptical of this. Trees can't melt wooden beams, after all. So he decided to build yet another, even wider causeway from a second location on the mainland. And why shouldn't he? I mean, the volunteers are practically boiling with excitement. After all, surely he couldn't fail this time. We are talking about the mastermind that solved the Gordian Knot.
So, this is the Gordian Knot. It's impossible to untie. Impossible, you say? Yeah, it has to be. It's holding a suspended load of concrete over an orphanage. So you're saying it takes a true hero to untie it, huh? No, ideally, it should not be messed with. Oh, sweet Jesus. Yeah, Aristotle was my teacher.
But a bridge wasn't going to be enough on its own. Alexander needed ships, lots of them. And luckily for him, he had just captured a bunch of Phoenician cities with naval fleets just sitting around collecting dust when they could be collecting skulls. So he rounded them up and brought them to the island. The siege dragged on, the Macedonians slaving away with naval protection while the Tyrians provided them some public theater with volunteers from the audience. Things would eventually come to an end when the Macedonians overwhelmed the Tyrians by attacking from both man-made land and sea. And finally, after the Great Alexander gloriously conquered the city, cementing yet another story in his legacy that would shape the cultural transcending legend of a truly magnificent man, he was able to stand tall at top his prize and sell the women and children to slavery, crucifying 2,000 of the few surviving men. As they say, another L, epic victory for the OG. Who says that? Ah, it'll catch on. You'll see. Well, you won't see. You'll be very dead. Only the citizens taking shelter after and a temple were spared, including the king of Tyre himself.
As for Alexander's seven-month rock-stacking project, the remains of it are still visible, and centuries of sand accumulation have terraformed the island of Tyre into the peninsula of Tyre, one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world that you could still visit to this day. Well, maybe hold off for now.
We remember the Cold Wars, that funny half-century period where two halves of the world edged each other to see who would splooge plutonium first. But while today we know both sides ended up being true, long-lasting kings, the Brits of the 1950s weren't so sure and needed to develop some contingency plans in case the hammer and sickle came a-knocking. But how does one stop the LeBron of steamrolling through Eastern Europe from doing just that? Well, luckily, the puzzle of keeping big groups of people out of big chunks of area while also assisting with hell's underpopulation problem had already been solved: landmines. Only problem was, landmines were kind of lacking pizzazz. That was last decade's fashion, after all. So how does one jazz up this concept with the taste of the 1950s trends?
Introducing Operation Blue Peacock, which was renamed from Blue Bunny, which was renamed from Brown Bunny. Really doing everything they can to avoid a Warner Bros. lawsuit. Blue Peacock was a project to develop a nuclear landmine with the goal of putting the first Soviet man into orbit. The plan was to bury a bunch of these in an area so uninhabitable and undesirable that nobody would mind it getting destroyed and irradiated. You know, somewhere like Germany. This way, if the Soviets were to invade the Iron Curtain, their advance would be halted in their tracks with some atomic confetti. Blink. Getting the area in enough radioactive fallout to prevent enemy occupation. This 10-kiloton nuke, weighing 7,300 kg, would be buried 35 feet deep, blast a crater 640 feet across. To help visualize that, is a bomb weighing 78,322.73 gumballs with a 100 billion gumball yield, buried 420 gumballs deep and exploding a 7,680 gumball wide crater.
With how big these puppies were, you weren't exactly able to litter a whole minefield with them, so they had to edge their locations very strategically. All right, vads, it was a good day. One, but I'm thinking we set up supply depot before pushing on. This looks like a good spot, so let's. Hey, a little more to the right. Of course.
These landmines couldn't be pressure-activated, not unless we wanted some kid playing hopscotch to step on a crack and break the sound barrier. So instead, they were designed to be detonated either by wire or by an eight-day timer. And to prevent anyone from being too nosy, it would also detonate if it was tampered with by any passing Russian soldier and/or curious child.
There was just one problem with this plan. With the bomb being 35 feet deep in German soil, cold winter temperatures would prevent the electronics from working properly. So those lab boys back in the UK had to come up with an idea so ingenious, so brilliant, that they could keep their bomb internals safely warm for eight whole days in the field until detonation.
Congratulations on your new appointment, Dr. Pekka. Our team couldn't have selected anyone better. I'm just happy to be given the opportunity. After eight long years of higher education, I'm excited to finally be able to pay off my loans and provide for my wife and eggs back home. The job market is tough for my kind, as you can imagine. Well, I can assure you, we don't discriminate here at Fort Halstead. We only peck, I mean, pick the best candidates for the job. I'm glad to hear that. So, where's my office? Oh, just right in here.
The Brit's genius idea was to stuff a live chicken in a nuclear landmine to keep it warm with good old-fashioned body heat. They planned to give it enough food to prevent it from pecking at wires and keeping it alive for at least eight days before it was sent to the shadow realm. Truly a device only conceivable by the West, as pumping a KFC meal full of the entire electromagnetic spectrum is nothing more than the final evolution of ultra-processed meat.
So, with two prototypes built and 10 orders on the horizon, all that was left was to put their cock-filled plan into motion. Yeah, so we'll just kind of spread them out around here. Uh, Ben, will this be a problem? Only if you're invested in local real estate. No, they'll be quite dead.
The Brits chickened out of the project once they remembered that nuclear fallout was famously unpredictable and could drift towards what I guess you could refer to as people. Blue Peacock was kept secret until it was declassified on April 1st, 2004, leading many to believe that shoving a Popeye's combo in a nuke had to be an April Fool's joke. To which the head of education at the National Archives responded, "The civil service does not do jokes." While trashing a project that spent four years in development sounds like a complete waste of time, they did find a way to salvage this at the end of the day. All that hard work designing and developing a wacky weapon prototype would end up fueling Britain's other favorite hobby: filling museum basements.
Wacky War Tactics Part Three. 8.14/52 out of 10 stars.
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