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The Laotian Civil War

Lasting from 1953 to 1975, the Laotian Civil War was fought between the Communist Pathet Lao and the Royal Lao Government. Before 1953, Laos was part of Indochina and nominally under the control of the French Empire. But the reality was the French never got full control back after Indochina was conquered by the Japanese during World War II. So World War II ends, and the French sponsor a guerrilla war to retake control, while the nominal king proclaimed an end to French protectorate status while quietly supporting the French return, and a national liberation movement starts to take shape around some other Laotian princes, supported to a degree by the high percentage of Vietnamese living in urban Laos.

Eventually, the French gave up, leaving the country in 1953 and officially giving power to the Royal Lao government. The civil war got started immediately. It was treated as a proxy war by the great powers, with North Vietnam, Russia, and China supporting the Pathet Lao, and South Vietnam and the United States supporting the Royal Lao Government. At the time, however, the Laotian Civil War was largely ignored in favor of the Vietnam War which was happening at the same time. In the end the communists won, and their party continues to control the country. 

Today, the Laotian Civil War is usually known by the nickname it was given in the 1960s by the CIA – “The Secret War.”

At one point we had a regular routine. The Boche would throw a particularly noisy trench-mortar bomb into our trenches just as our men were having their afternoon siesta. One of our field batteries would reply with half a dozen salvos of shrapnel over their trenches. They replied with ten-centimetre 'Universal’ in the direction of our observation posts.
This would be my cue, and I would be ordered to drop a few rounds o high explosives into a communication trench that the enemy were very proud of. Within minutes an equal number of corresponding shells would fall into the square of an unfortunate village a little way behind our lines. So the fun would continue, until we all got tired of wasting ammunition, and went to sleep again.
—  Cecil, J Street, The Making of a Gunner, 1916.
Phone Call

A/N: Just a drabble that’s been stuck in my head because I’m excited to watch The Punisher soon.

Pairing: Reader x Frank Castle

Word Count: 250

Warnings: canon typical violence, fluff?

You slung your bag over your shoulder as you punched in the code for the alarm system. Work was finally over and you were ready to get home. After locking the shop door and pulling down the security gate, your phone rang. Just like it did at 9:15 every night you worked. You don’t remember when it started, but Frank would always call you when you were walking to your car at night.

Frank was resting on a rooftop somewhere in the city, eyeing his target through the scope of a huge rifle. He was watching a deal go down a few buildings over when he called. Without taking his eyes off his target, he listened for your answer, holding it between is ear and shoulder.

“Hey babe!”

“Walking to the car?” he asked, adjusting the sights on the rifle.

“Yes sir,” you smiled, knowing he liked it when you called him that. You heard a ‘click’ on the other end. Frank readied the rifle as the deal was about to finish up. “Frank?” You fished your car keys out of your pocket as you got closer to where you parked on the street.


“Are you…working right now?”

He was silent for a moment. You began to think he hadn’t heard you. “Fr-“

He fired the rifle, his target falling dead a second later before he had a chance to realize what was happening.

“Nope. All done.” He was already packing up his bag and making his exit.

“Smart ass.” You smirked, starting the engine and turning on the lights.

“Yeah, yeah. See you when I get home.”

“Be safe.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”