World War I Ended in 1919, but Andorra Fought On

If you define the end of a war as being when all parties have signed the peace treaty, then World War I didn't end until 1958 when the small European state of Andorra finally made their peace with Imperial Germany.

There it is!

'Where is Andorra?' you ask. Well, Andorra is a teeny-tiny, blink and you'll miss it, doesn't even have its own airport, country in Europe nestled between France and Spain. The entire country is less than 500 square kilometers, and home to only 85,000 people. For reference, that's significantly less than the least populous US state, which is Wyoming with 585,501 people.

Now that we have that established, let's talk about WWI. So, early 1900s, everyone's declaring war on somebody. Germany has declared war on France, France has declared war on Germany, Austria has declared war on Russia, &c, &c. WWI was a mess. So, not wanting to feel left out, the tiny mountainous nation of Andorra decides that they want to hang out with the cool kids too, and declare war on Imperial Germany.

Unfortunately, no one really noticed, because Andorra didn't actually send any soldiers to fight the Germans. The declaration of war was more of symbolic moral stand than anything. Of course, that might also have been because Andorra did not, and still doesn't, have a standing army. 

Despite the lack of Andorran forces, Imperial Germany lost the war. But, when it came time for everyone to settle down and sign the Treaty of Versailles, Andorra wasn't there, because someone forgot to invite them. Which, honestly, rude.

Modern Andorra

So Andorra continued in a state of belligerence against Germany. They didn't fight in WWII, maybe because they were still busy 'fighting' World War One, or perhaps because they realized they didn't have a standing army, so what was the point of alienating anyone? This last theory seems more plausible, as Andorra served as an important smuggling route through France and Spain during the war.

WWII ends, and everyone goes home, Russia's being a bit of a dick, but other than that Europe is pretty peaceful. Except for Andorra, who is still, technically, at war with Imperial Germany, a country which no longer exists. Where they didn't actually have an army, there wasn't any bloodshed going on, so I imagine this 'war' mostly consisted of the older generations grumpily complaining about the Germans, while everyone else forgot they were at war. 

Finally, in 1958 Andorra finally made its peace with Germany, and WWI was officially over for everyone.

Sources

New World Encyclopedia

CIA World Factbook

The War of the Oaken Bucket

It's 1325, and Italy is having some difficulties getting along.

Highlighted portions are the states
going to war for no good reason.

It's unsurprising really, I mean, the enormous Roman Empire broke apart, and the world has been squabbling over the crumbs ever since. Italy, in particular, was a small peninsula of turmoil. The upstart Holy Roman Emperor, Frederick Barbarossa had invaded just a bit earlier, the different states couldn't get along, and then there were those assholes in the Papal States claiming to have supreme power over the entire world, because God or something. Italy was a mess, and tensions were high.

After Barbarossa's invasion Italy was divided into two major factions, the Guelphs and the Ghibellines. I know those names sound made up, but they're not. The Guelphs were the merchant class, city slickers, who supported the pope, and the Ghibellines were the simple country folk who thought the Holy Roman Empire was pretty nifty.* Needless to say, they hated each other.

So, two factions, both alike in dignity, on the fair Bologna-Modena border where we set our scene, are going at it pretty hard. It's Guelphs vs. Ghibellines, with Bologna for the Guelphs and Modena for the Ghibellines, and they've been skirmishing over this border for a long time, to the point where fighting is just a part of the landscape. So, one day, during a routine foray into Bologna, a few Modenese soldiers stole a loot filled bucket from a well, and hauled ass back to Modena.

Now, you would think that the Bolognese would have said something along the lines of, "Oh well, it's a bucket. Yeah, there was stuff in it, but we've got lots of other stuff, and it's not like we can't find another bucket." But no, the exchange went something more like this:

Bologna: Hey, bro, I know we don't get along, but can we have our bucket back?        

Modena: Um...no? We stole that bucket fair and square. This is how this works, stupid.          

Bologna: Please?        

Modena: No?      

Bologna: Fine. Well then. You won't give us back our bucket? LET'S HAVE A WAR.

the Bucket of contention

And so the War of the Bucket began.

Luckily, this particular war didn't drag on for too long. There was only one battle, the Battle of Zappolino, and it was pretty decisive.

So Bologna, with the help of Pope John XXII, raised an army of 32,000 men. The Modenese met them with a force of 7,000 men--and the Modenese won.

The Modenese victory has a lot to do with the fact that 30,000 of the Bolognese soldiers were poorly armed, and even more poorly trained. Additionally, the Modenese had the higher ground. The Modenese were coming down the slopes of hills to their Bolognese enemies who were hanging out on the plain below. It was a thorough rout, and the Modenese chased the Bolognese back to their city.

The Modenese didn't bother sacking the main city, they settled for destroying some castles, diverting the river away from Bologna, and kidnapping some 26 nobles. Oh, and most delicious, the Modenese returned to their city with another bucket stolen from the Bolognese.

That bucket, the second one, is still on display in Modena today. You can find a replica outside on the city's main well, and the original inside the museum. Hundreds of years later, and the Modenese aren't letting go of that one.

*I feel it is worth noting, that a big part of the faction alignments had to do with who was most likely to invade your state. If the pope was knocking at your door, the Holy Roman Emperor seemed like a pretty swell fellow.


Sources
War History Online
Battle of Zappolino
Military History Now
War of the Bucket

Sweden, the Gregorian Calendar, and the Double Leap Year of 1712

Not a lot happened in 1582. As far as world events go, it was pretty quiet. 1582 was, however the year of  the reform of the Julian calendar, which was a pretty big deal.

Pope Gregory XIII decided that some major changes were needed in the Catholic church. Germanic countries were leaving the faith left and right, and this upstart priest kept nailing things to church doors. Gregory implemented many of the changes decided upon in the Council of Trent, but he also decided to reform the calendar, because the Julian calendar was downright inaccurate.

Pope Gregory XIII

Why was the Julian calendar inaccurate, you ask. Well, according to the Julian calendar every year has 365.25 days. In actuality, a day is eleven minutes short of that easy number, which I think we can all agree was a bit of a dick move on the part of Mother Nature. This meant that by our friend Greg's time the Julian calendar was a wee bit inaccurate. The Julian calendar had been in use for over 1,600 yeas. Eleven minutes over more than a millennia starts to add up after a while, and the Julian calendar was about two weeks ahead of time when Pope Gregory was kicking it in the Vatican. This wouldn't have been much of an issue, except it made scheduling Easter a little difficult, and that really would not do. So Pope Gregory decided to adopt a new calendar.

Gregory's calendar was a major success in Catholic countries like Poland, Italy, France and Spain, but Protestants viewed it with suspicion. Protestants were convinced that this new calendar was yet another way that the Catholic Church was trying to control the world. Obviously, the whole political point of Protestantism was to avoid that, so Protestant nations told the Pope to go to hell, and continued in their Julian ways for quite some time.

Slowly, however, most nations relented. It was a bit difficult to be out of sync with the rest of the world. Turkey was the last hold out, and put off adopting the calendar untilf 1927. To get in sync with the Gregorian calendar, most nations dropped days from their calendar. The Americans lost most of September in 1752, as did the English and Canadians. However, when Sweden adopted the calendar in 1712, the proposed to add two days to February.

Sweden at the time also encompassed the nation of Finland, and 1712 would normally have been a leap year, as under the Julian calendar all years divisible by four are leap years (including years that end in 100 that aren't divisible by 400). However, to get in sync with the shiny new(ish) Gregorian calendar, the Swedes added an extra day, bringing around the once-in-a-lifetime February 30th.

Unfortunately, nothing momentous seems to have happened in Sweden on that day. It was a bit of a slow news week. Nobody important was born, and nothing big happened, at least as far as I can find. It's a shame really. February 30th only came around (for Sweden anyways) once, you would think that someone would have made a big deal out of it. But no luck. Were it not for the oddity of the date, February 30, 1712 would have been just another boring day in history.

Sources

Gregorian Calendar
Time and Date
Julian vs. Gregorian (first two pages)
February 30
Pope Gregory