I understand that the Ancient Greeks knew their myths and legends took place in prior ages, eg. the age of heroes as opposed to their current age of iron. And I understand that modern historians have dated the Trojan War - which I have heard called the end of the mythic age - to the 12th or 11th century BC, which corresponds with the Bronze Age Collapse. So if one were to try and put a date on the stories of Herakles, Theseus, Perseus, etc., it might make sense to set them during the Bronze age or earlier, which we have some idea about due to our modern archeological knowledge.

My question is, how would the Classical Greeks have imagined these stories and the world they took place in? How clear was their picture of Mycenaean Greece and earlier? When they recounted the stories, would they have imagined them taking place in a world with different architecture and fashion to their own? How clear was their picture of the past, both historically and mythologically? And how would it have been different from their contemporary view of their world?

I am doing an essay on the persecution of the Jews in Nazi Germany and why is there two auschwitz?

I’ve looked up the difference but nothing shows up

I have heard of Sparta enslaving Athenians but Spartans were always adamant that they were foreigners even if they spoke Greek. So were their any cases of a free Greek citizen getting enslaved in Greece and not in Rome or some barbarian land ? I have heard that Eumenes, one of the companions of Alexander the Great, was enslaved when he was a child. Although I don't have any reference to prove this story element of his life. Please forgive me for no sources being given by me.

"In September 1935, civilized humanity, friends and enemies alike, learned with surprise that the Red Army would now be crowned with an officers' hierarchy, beginning with lieutenant and ending with marshal." -Leon Trotsky, "The Revolution Betrayed" - 1936

Trotsky writes in "The Revolution Betrayed", that the red army didn't have a formal officer corps until 1935. How was the Red Army commanded from 1918-1934? Was it similar to the Catalonian militias in the Spanish Civil War?

Sorry for formatting, I am on mobile. Thankyou for your time.

I don’t know much about Japanese objectives or goals for Australia’s invasion (except the raids on Darwin and potential invasion in Northern Australia) and motives, but based off of geography, NZ could’ve been a good spot to launch an amphibious invasion of Australia’s NSW coast.

I know that Australia wasn’t a primary target for invasion for the Japs, but I was thinking NZ could’ve been a good staging base for air raids and invasion (similar to how the capture of Okinawa by the US let them carry out air raids, and let the US prepare and launch an invasion of the Japanese mainland).

Was this objective ever discussed within Japanese high command? Why wasn’t it carried out?

Any info would be appreciated.

I've heard both sides of the argument many times, but never with factual, verifiable evidence. It is a matter of great interest for me but I can't seem to find reliable sources that truly convince me of any of the two opinions nor something in between.

Suffice to say these three cities existed in different times and very different places. But questions of health, food storage/preservation and water distribution, waste disposal, and justice make me wonder how they managed to remain functional.

I have been wondering this for a while and don't think I could find a definitive answer. When WWII began in 1939, what did they call it? Because as all of you know the WWI before was called the Great War not WWI at the time, so what changes were made to call that war WWII and then give The Great War a new name, WWI?

My son has been acting out recently. He's been killing palace eunuchs and beating his consorts. I tried to raise him up the proper way, surrounded with scholars and fed Confucian classics on the daily. He's always been a strange kid though, he was terrified of thunder and treated his consorts poorly. As he got older he grew more violent, took a liking to alcohol, and started to rape and kill our servants. Just the other day some poor maid made a big fuss after she saw him behead another eunuch! Now I'm not perfect too, I'll admit, I may have been sleeping around but it's my right after all! I'm all stressed after a day's work that I need to unwind, at least I'm not hurting anyone.

Anyways the public is starting to get wind of all this and I need to get things under control. Can't have the peasants get their noses in court drama. This boy ain't right, and there's no solving this but death.

Thing is, some old nitwit I mean revered ancestor had this rule where executing a noble would mean executing the entire family. The realm needs a ruler, and I'm not going anywhere! I have this plan to summon him before me, strip him of his titles, and force him to crawl into a rice chest. He should starve within a week, and that's technically not executing him, moreso fatherly punishment that got a little out of hand.

I've disciplined my son before, but he's really forced me now. Some people say this is rather drastic and cruel, but I'm one of the most benevolent and capable kings this great land has seen! Someone tell me I'm not the crazy one here.

As the title states, my armies have been successful and victorious for nearly ten years. We've conquered the known world and beyond. After my latest victory, I made the bold choice that my army shall continue it's victorious streak and continue pushing eastward and beyond.

My men on the other hand, feel differently. I woke up this morning to discover my men now wish to return home and have no desire to continue our victorious march eastwards to lands unknown. I've tried pleading with them to no avail and now I'm just sitting in my tent writing this while they wait outside. They just don't understand...

Now I get it, being away from their families and homes for nearly ten years is a lot to ask of them, but the success we've achieved because of my cunning and decisive leadership and their fighting spirit cannot compare! Surely they must know that the sacrifices they've made and would continue to make will surely be worth while for the glory of myself and Macedon!

Surely they are overreacting here and have just lost sight of what truly matters, or AITA?

I (m61) am Defense Minister for most glorious country on Earth. My (former) friend N (m63) is leader of our great worker’s paradise. He working hard to improve our nation, and I have supported him at every step. Recently, several disgruntled cronies of S, N’s predecessor attempted to depose N for merely speaking Truth about S’s faults.

Of course, I rise to his defense! I give speech making clear it must not happen, and that my friend N rightful leader. As head of Army, I of course promise all means will be used to prevent such attempt to subvert the health of rodina.

Soon after, I take visit to other country, one of great Socialist brotherhood. N in my absence now accuses me of wanting his fall from power! He accuses me of desiring what I have worked so hard to prevent. For simply using my power to help him, he now fears I intend to use same power against!

I return home only to find accusations of Bonapartism and anti-party thoughts. N ensures I have no defense. I have been stripped of positions in Army and Party, and disgraced!

What have I done to deserve this? Is this how a friend returns such devotion and support!? AITA?

I understand that before 1947 there was no "one" India, it was made up of smaller principalities. But what was the reason larger empires didn't expand outside of that subcontinent like the Europeans?

Alright, I suppose I'd better start with the backstory. This "marriage" has always been purely political. My mom was the most power hungry woman I've ever met, and she arranged with her sister to marry me to her son and heir, Peter III. I was only sixteen when we married, but the prospects of being Peter's wife were compelling enough that I swallowed my general abhorrence of the boy I'd known as an obnoxious cousin for the past few years. I've done my best to be a good wife, as my mother raised me to do. I learned the local language and read their classics, and I've been extremely patient with my husband's poor manners, absurd fixations, and abusive treatment of everyone around him.

Now, I don't mean to brag, but I'm a great catch. I'm fluent in three languages, I've studied all the classics and can recite Tacitus by heart (he's my favorite), and I have more knowledge and education in my little finger than Peter has in all his bulbous head. His mother, Elizabeth, couldn't have been more thrilled to have a daughter-in-law like me. Especially after I converted to Orthodoxy, the Empress loved me more than my own witch of a mother ever had.

But my husband, Peter... I fear "idiot " may be too kind a description. Although his blood is noble, his disposition is cruel, his temperament is childish, and his countenance is hideous. For all I have to offer, the man has barely laid eyes on me. Not that I'm complaining, mind you—I'd rather die a virgin than press lips with Peter even once.

When we were living in our first palace outside St. Petersburg, Peter and I mostly kept to ourselves. He had his toy soldiers and slovenly drinking friends, and I had my education, my correspondences, and a hot boyfriend named Sergei. Peter didn't seem to notice or care. Besides, he developed an infatuation with one of my former servant girls, an olive-toned tramp who can barely speak without casting spittle like rain all around herself. He gave her a special palace all her own so they could slum around together without offending me and the other decent people at Oranienbaum. It wasn't the best arrangement, but it worked for a while.

My boyfriend and I were really happy, and we had a couple of handsome children, who I told everyone are Peter's (obviously). Peter was happy to claim our first child, Paul, but consigned me to hell after the birth and subsequent death of our precious Anna. He blamed her death on me for being promiscuous! Can you believe that? As he himself laid with a woman too plump and listless to carry my cape?! That was three years ago, and I've spent much of my time since then locked in my boudoir, just to spare myself Peter's nastiness. Of course, I can still hear him playing his ridiculous toy soldier games and "drills" at all hours. Even the servants avoid the brute as much as they can get away with.

The real problems started few months ago when my loving mother-in-law, Empress Elizabeth, died and left Peter in charge. I've been patient these months, waiting to see my husband rise to his new title and encouraging become a true leader, but I've only been disappointed. He still plays his toy soldier games and runs ridiculous drills; the only difference is he now has a true army to command. Noble bloodline, be damned! He fawns over despots the Empress's armies railed against and moves to make of war on one of our oldest allies. In the past week or so, I've even heard rumors that Peter plans to exile me to some frigid nunnery and crown his porkly lover as Empress Consort!

Unlike my husband, I am neither indolent nor entitled; I have previously considered what I might do if Peter threatened my position in this manner. You see, nobody, save one pompadoured hog and a few obsequious dukes, NOBODY likes Peter. But me? I'm a real catch, and the people of this kingdom just adore me. They find me beautiful, my accent distinguished, and my breadth of knowledge equal or superior to many men. (Speaking of men, I have a few who adore me and see things my way...)

All my life, I've studied great rulers and grand philosophies. I've been studying the enlightened authors of western Europe, and I love to explore ideas about philosophy and politics with my true friends and lovers. My friends and education have convinced me that I am a great leader, separated from my rightful place at the throne by ancient convention and a fool of a husband. Of course, Peter hates me for my friendships with politically enlightened people, even going so far as to call my friends traitors and accuse me of conspiring with them against him. What he doesn't know is that many of my friends are well-connected, and that I have garnered the political (and military) support of more factions than Peter knows to exist. All I have to do is ask for their protection, and all of Peter's power, including the military, can be mine.

Today, I received word that one of my compatriots was arrested on my husbands orders. I had hoped to bring Peter around by gentle cajoling, but I see now the only way to save me, my friends, and the kingdom itself may be to exile him and have myself crowned as regent Empress. I probably won't have Peter III killed or anything; after all, I plan to be an enlightened ruler. I will modernize this kingdom and raise its reputation like nobody since Peter the Great has been able to do.

So Reddit, WIBTA if I carry out my plan to exile my jerk of a husband and rule Russia as a single lady?

P.S. I will definitely ruin the ugly mistress's life and put my favorite boy toys in charge of like, everything. Might even free the serfs if I'm feeling cute.

TLDR: I'm just a poor Prussian princess with big ideas, but a bad man is keeping me down, and I just wanna have fun & rule the kingdom my way but he probably won't move out unless I become Empress of Russia and force him to scram.

Okay so some background. In 1572, my good buddy Francis and I went to Panama to try and steal some of that sweet sweet Peruvian silver from the Spanish. Things went pretty well. After a bit of a kerfufle in Nombre de Dios we regrouped and even made some friends with some local runaway slaves, cimarrons they call themselves. With their help we snuck across the isthmus, by-passing Nombre de Dios, and tried to ambush the silver train during its trans-isthmus crossing. That worked out okay. We then made friends with Billy Testu. With the Frenchies and the Maroons we decided to try raiding the pack train right before it arrived in Nombre de Dios. That went okay, but we had to set sail quickly and poor Billy got a Spanish sword in his guts.

Anyways, after getting back to merry England, Francis decides he wants to go 'around the world' Magellan-style. I said to the boys, "Lets go back to Panama, we got friends there, and get us some more silver. Old Philip has enough of it anyways!" So off we go in April of 1576 back to Panama.

Once we make landfall, we find the old fort Francis had set up and catch up with our Maroon buddies. Problem is that those pesky Spaniards had more ships patrolling the coast and they found where we hid our ship. So there we are, no ship, only some of our supplies. What can we do?

We decide let's go to the South Sea and capture some of that silver before it even reaches Panama City. Thankfully, we have some tools and tackle that we salvaged before our ship was captured. The Maroons take us in their canoes to the coast. We build a nice little pinnace and cast off.

We do pretty well, capture a nice loaded merchantman coming up the coast from Lima. Then the Maroons say, "Hey why don't we go to the Pearl Islands. You guys can take all the pearls and we will free the slaves they got diving for them." That works out pretty well and while we are there we get the chance to humiliate the Popish priest they had there.

With a nice chunk of loot, we decided to head back to the mainland. My buddies and I are itching to get back to the Caribbean where we can build us another boat to get back to England. But then it all falls apart. The Spanish send out several score of soldiers in boats. Before we are even done unloading the canoes and carrying our loot to the Maroon villages the Spaniards are firing harquebuses at us. It all goes sideways.

Between April and October 1577 we're living in a madhouse. The maroons burn their villages and disappear into the jungle. We're scattered, got no weapons, hardly any food. Heck even if we run across a Maroon we are lucky to get some bananas and maybe some grains of maize. In October, I get captured along with about a dozen of my men. Most are executed. I get an all expenses paid trip to the Inquisition's jail in Lima.

The Spanish keep fighting the Maroons until after I have been hung up on a gallows and my body burned (1580). Now, the Spanish war of 'fire and blood' ended with the Maroons signing a truce in which they surrendered but were given their freedom and allowed to form their own towns (1581). They also promised to help defend Panama from foreign invaders. (In 1596, some of them helped defeat Francis' last raid on the isthmus). AITA? I mean without my expedition the Spanish would not have got themselves into a protracted guerrilla war against the Maroons, and the Maroons would likely have not received such generous terms for peace.

Ok, so hear me out...

Right before my dad Charles died he made me Emperor, which totally makes sense since I was totally his favorite son (and all my older brothers were dead anyway...). So a few years back, around 817, I had a bit of a scare when my royal dais collapsed and I decided to get my affairs in order. After all, everybody should have a will, right!?

So anyway, I went and drew up my will and laid out which of my three wonderful sons gets what when I eventually pass away. Naturally my oldest son, the apple of my eye, Lothar, will be Emperor and so it only makes sense that he should be in control of Italy since Rome is where emperors are crowned and anointed. Right, I think that's pretty logical!

There was one slight problem... my nephew Bernard was *technically* already king of Italy because his dad, my older brother Pippin, had been. But that isn't a big deal since I'm Emperor and kings answer to Emperors so I just made sure to amend things so that Lothar gets it. I mean, sorry Bernard, but again, I'm emperor and it doesn't make sense for Italy to not stay under my direct familial control, that's just sound business sense.

Anyway, if you can believe it Bernard revolted against me! Who does that?! So I had to put the revolt down because you can't have that sort of thing and once I captured my nephew he had a trial and all the aristocrats said he should be executed, which is of course the logical punishment for treason. But I decided to be merciful because I mean, heck, he was my nephew, I don't want to kill a family member!

So instead I very mercifully blinded him just to keep him out of trouble. Well wouldn't you know it, he went and got infected and died anyway! But I fail to see how that is *my* fault! And now everyone is mad at me for this and is saying I should do penance and that I'm an asshole for killing my nephew. But I didn't kill him, I blinded him. And he revolted against me first!

So anyway, am I the asshole for *accidentally* blinding my rebellious nephew to death?

I am a Comte de Luxe et de Bouteville, and as is expected of a young man of my station, I regularly engage in the most noble of institutions, the duel of honor. I have fought no less than twenty two such encounters, in fact!

On Lent of last year, I engaged in one such encounter with two seconds against the Comte de Thorigny and two of his men over some trifle of which I know forget, but I believe had to do with my dear friend the Marquis de Calais, at the time in prisoned for unfounded accusations of treason and unable to defend his honor himself. In any case, it was a great clash of arms, and Thorigny put up quite the fight, but I in the end had the best of him, running him through with my blade, and satisfying honor.

But that horrid advisor to Henri IV, Cardinal de Richelieu, lacking any sense of honor, promulgated a new edict soon after to require banishment, or even death, for anyone who engages in this noble practice! A man of honor must take no notice of such things, as our manhood is above the mere laws of man, so when presented with the need, I again challenged, and my second was killed in the encounter.

What else could I do but flee to the Netherlands until the matter could be settled? Thankfully the King recognized the necessity of my actions and pardoned me at the behest of the Archduchess, allowing me to return to France, although not to Paris.

But when the Marquis de Beuvron challenged me over the death of his relative, Thorigny, of course I had to accept. Perhaps I was a bit boastful in my assertion that I would fight in Paris and in the Place Royale, whatever the King may have said, but of course how could I have used that as an excuse to avoid the combat!? It was a grand combat, and a gallant fight and at the end of it the Marquis de Bussy d'Amboise lay dying, not even by my hand, I would add, but my Second’s, the Comte des Chapelles.

It was as noble a fight as any done in France, a testament to the honor of all involved, yet now I and the Chapelles have been arrested, and despite the treaties of all men of honor sin the land, the King refuses to grant pardon. To be sure, I do not fear death, and will climb the scaffold with my head held high, knowing that I die for that which one must always wager death against to preserve, yet how can I not feel greatly aggrieved to be condemned to die for a crime which ought not be a crime, for a pursuit that all men of honor in our noble country know is their duty? Thousands before me have done no different, and been lauded as the noble specimens of manhood that they are, yet we are to be made examples of to please the machinations of the horrid Cardinal.

AITA? Do I truly deserve this fate? What good will it even do to curb the pursuit of honor, as all men who value it do so more than their own life?

My grandpa recently passed away, and among his belongings we found a collection of journal entries, stories, and poems he wrote as a US Army soldier in the Second WW. My grandfather was a lifelong lover of literature and poetry, and these accounts are beautiful-written tales of combat engagements, war experiences, and the people he fought with side-by-side. I find them very compelling, and I think other people would too. I've scanned and transcribed them all (about 40,000 words worth) and would like to find a way to bring them out to the general public.

I am not sure however about the best way to move forward with this. I've tried reaching out to a few publishing houses without luck, though to be fair I haven't been trying very long so maybe I just need to give it more time. Would big publishing houses be interested in such papers? Or should I target specific history/military publishers? If nothing else, should I send them to museums or historians who might be interested in first-person accounts like this one?

Any other suggestions highly welcome!

My name is Nagao Kagetora. I was the appointed ruler of Echigo province, the Second Vice Censor. I am writing as the monk Sōshin. I come from a long line of famous warriors, and my clan has served our Uesugi Lords for generations. But the Uesugi turned on my father and tried to crush him. Still, he fought undefeated for twenty years against the ungrateful and the traitors to restore order to the province. When he died, many brutes rebelled and I had to attend my father's funeral armored. No one would listen to my elder brother so I had no choice but to take up our banner to protect our name. Against my own desires I entered Kasugayama Castle.

Pacifying the province turned out to be incredibly easy. And prosperity returned. And when Harunobu of Kai attacked the neighbouring Shinano province, the lords there came to me for help, and in two campaigns I beat Harunobu so badly that he needed to beg Yoshimoto of Sunpu to come broker a peace. If it wasn’t for me Shinano would surely have been lost. But just as I was doing my best to make my realm prosper, my vassals are all fighting among themselves and would not listen to me. I simply can not rule the province properly under these circumstances.

I feel like all the great generals in history, and my ancestors, and my father. But unlike some of them, when I was young some nearby treacherous brutes attacked my castle. I had no teacher to teach me the ways of war, but still defeated them. And afterwards I won victory after victory. When I visited the capital a few years ago I was showered with praise and gifts and special privileges unheard of in my family. But now I feel I have reached my zenith. And my vassals always fight among themselves and won’t listen to me. And I feel if any changes were made to the province, it would collapse. So I’ve decided to follow the way of the ancients and retire, and watch over the province from somewhere far away. I feel I have many able vassals who, despite the very dangerous threat on the border that I have been warding off, would be able to run the province properly as long as they meet and talk things out and agree on what to do.

I am writing to quell rumors that would sure follow my departure, to explain why I have decided to escape this world and be a monk. I hope you’d understand and explain my reasons to my vassals and let them know where I'm going.

AITA?

My late brother and I were dedicated heavier than air flight experimenters. Roll control? We invented that. Well, we'll get to that.

After three years of successively improved gliders, we were able to add an aluminum internal combustion engine and two propellers (all purpose built in a bicycle shop, by the way - we also managed to build a wind tunnel), for the first confirmed and powered, manned, and controlled heavier than air flight. There are experimenters who could plausibly (barely) have beaten us, but no evidence they did, and international demonstrations satisfied skeptics and the controversy should have ended, there.

We patented the three axis control system, which was the key to controlled flight, leading to other engineers fighting us in court. One found a similar system on an unmanned craft designed by Samuel Langley, of the Smithsonian. The engineer and the Smithsonian also stirred up controversy about whether a manned variant was flyable. This could potentially invalidate out patent and hurt our legacy, since the Smithsonian both researched flight and wrote its history - conflict of interest, much?

(We even offered to donate our first airplane to their museum. They requested a later one, wanting to show connections between Langley's work and ours - can you believe the gall?)

Anyway, I took our first airplane to England, in protest. As time passed, there was pressure to return it to the United States, as it was seen as a national treasure, clouded status or no. I had some conditions:

• The Estate of Orville Wright agrees to sell the 1903 Wright Flyer to the United States (represented by the Smithsonian) for $1.

• In return, the United States guarantees the aircraft to be displayed prominently in the nation’s capital and to be identified as the first heavier-than-air flying machine in which men made a controlled and powered flight.

• The airplane is to be valued at $1 for tax purposes.

• Should the United States not prominently display the airplane, display it without the agreed-upon identification, or identify another airplane as being capable of controlled and powered manned flight before December 17, 1903, the ownership of the airplane reverts to the Estate.

• Additionally, if the airplane is valued at more than $1 and the Estate is assessed for taxes, the United States will pay those taxes. If it does not, the title reverts.

• If the United States forfeits its title to the airplane for any of these reasons, it has five years to comply with the agreement to regain title.

In effect, the Smithsonian forfeits perhaps its most famous exhibit and popularly treasured, if the exhibit isn't lauded in perpetuity as I, co-inventor of said exhibit see fit, maintaining my brother's and my place in the history books as two of the all-time most important inventors.

AITA?

So I was always interested what happened in this super secret rite. Why can only women go there anyway? It must have been something interesting.

So Caesar's wife, Pompeia, and mother, Aurelia, and a couple of Vestals were doing this at old Gaius's place. I dressed up as a woman and snuck inside. I always wanted to get into Pompeia's toga anyway and this seemed like a great opportunity. It was going well initially, the slaves not daring to notice anything and the others busy with their ritual, but eventually somebody screamed and everybody got very angry.

Now there is going to be this trial, and it seems they are out to get me. They also claimed I slept with my sister, of which there is no proof at all! Caesar even divorced his wife over this. I guess I'll just swear I wasn't in Rome at all, I mean what can they do anyway.

So AITA here? What's the big deal?