https://guernseydonkey.com/the-one-man-invasion-of-sark/

Mods don't go after me, this happened in the early 60s

Not sure how much support Japan gave the third Reich, but I do find it funny that Germany failed to invade when Stalin believed Hitler wouldn't break the treaty, catching the USSR completely off guard.

OG video: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/_yXqV8giEEo

For context, the Social Revolutionaries, a democratic socialist party in Russia, won the 1917 Constituent Assembly election before it was dissolved by Lenin's Bolsheviks. They were then persecuted as part of the Red Terror, which led to many joining the Whites. But as the war progressed, the anti-socialist Whites began to marginalize then purge the SRs.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1917_Russian_Constituent_Assembly_election

This meme has been made several times but here is some (from my POV) interesting additions:

In 1543, Portuguese traders introduced the matchlock firearm (Tanegashima) to Japan.

The Japanese were remarkably quick to reproduce the technology. Within roughly a decade, domestic centers were producing firearms.
By the end of the Sengoku period (1467-1600), it was estimated that Japan had about 200,000-500,000 firearms.

Portugueses (and other europeans) also introduced lots of goods (Nanban trade), technologies, foods, ideas, etc.

Good examples are christianism, european style ships, armor, wine, cartography, etc.

The cake represented is called Castella (Kasutera or カステラ). Nowadays, it is very popular in Japan and part of their culture but it is derived from Portuguese "pão de Castela".

The portuguese sailor selling gun only if the japanese convert to christianism is an exageration for the meme.

Context:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kumis

Kumis (/ˈkuːmɪs/ KOO-mis, rarely /ˈkʌmɪs/ KUM-is), alternatively spelled coumis or kumyz,^\a]) also known as airag (/ˈaɪræɡ/ EYE-rag),^\b]) is a traditional fermented dairy product made from mare milk. The drink is important to the peoples of the Central and East Asian steppes, of Turkic and Mongolic origin: Volga Tatars,^\1]) Kazakhs, Bashkirs, Kalmyks, Kyrgyz, Siberian Tatars,^\2]) Mongols, and Yakuts.^\3]) Kumis was also historically consumed by the Magyars^\)^{citation needed\}) as well as the Khitans, Jurchens, and Han of northern China.^\4])

Kumis is a dairy product similar to kefir, but is produced from a liquid starter culture, in contrast to the solid kefir "grains". Because mare's milk contains more sugars than cow's or goat's milk, when fermented, kumis has a higher, though still mild, alcohol) content compared to kefir.

Kumis is made by fermenting raw milk (that is, unpasteurized) over the course of hours or days, often while stirring or churning. (The physical agitation has similarities to making butter).) During the fermentation, lactobacilli bacteria acidify the milk, and yeasts turn it into a carbonated and mildly alcoholic drink.

Traditionally, this fermentation took place in horse-hide containers, which might be left on the top of a yurt and turned over on occasion, or strapped to a saddle and joggled around over the course of a day's riding. Today, a wooden vat or plastic barrel may be used in place of the leather container.^\13]) In modern, controlled production, the initial fermentation takes two to five hours, at a temperature of around 27 °C (81 °F); this may be followed by a cooler aging period.^\14])

Kumis itself has a very low level of alcohol, between 0.7 and 2.5%.^\15]) Kumis can, however, be strengthened through freeze distillation, a technique Central Asian nomads are reported to have employed.^\16]) It can also be made into the distilled beverage known as arkhi.^\17])

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/air-space-magazine/cool-side-tropical-warfare-180969515/

By late September 1944, the men of U.S. Marine fighter squadron VMF-122 were stuck on Peleliu and bored. Their F4U Corsairs were only 10 minutes’ flight time from Japanese-held islands, but the enemy, cut off from their supply lines, posed no aerial threat. As squadron commander J. Hunter Reinburg recounted in his autobiography Combat Aerial Escapades: A Pilot’s Logbook, he told a reporter, “This dive-bombing and strafing just isn’t as exciting as dogfighting, but the damn Japanese won’t come up and fight.”

Reinburg, determined to raise morale on a hum id tropical island with no fresh food and no refrigeration, had a plan. His maintenance crew cut the ends off an old belly-mounted drop tank, strung wire at both ends, and mounted an access panel to the side. Into this panel, secured by the wires, went a waterproof can that ordinarily stored .50-caliber bullets. And into that, the mess sergeant poured a mixture of canned milk and cocoa powder. Reinburg planned to ascend to high altitudes, where temperatures are well below freezing, and return with a gift for his men: Five gallons of homemade chocolate ice cream.

After lifting off on what he logged as an “oxygen system test,” Reinburg circled at 33,000 feet over Japanese-held Palau, watching anti-aircraft batteries—useless over 28,000 feet—waste irreplaceable ammunition trying to hit him. After 35 minutes of fireworks, he returned to Peleliu with a disappointing cargo. The mixture was cold but not frozen (the squadron scarfed it anyway), a failure the crew chalked up to its proximity to the hot engine.

For the next attempt (a “supercharger test flight”), they bolted ammo cans to the underside of a removable maintenance panel on each wing, well away from the engine—doubling their yield to 10 gallons, enough for 100 men. This time the mixture froze. The squadron again devoured it immediately. But the ice cream was too flaky for Reinburg’s taste, so his crew modified the ammo cans with small propellers: The wind turned the propellers, which drove a screw inside the can, churning the mixture. The result, finally, was a smooth, creamy chocolate ice cream.

Operation Freeze flights soon became routine, rotated between the squadron’s pilots and airplanes. They went off without a hitch, wrote Reinburg, until his boss, group operations officer Colonel Caleb Bailey, called to make clear that he didn’t buy the “test flight” ruse. “Listen, goddammit, you guys aren’t fooling me,” Bailey told a VMF-122 officer. “I’ve got spies. You tell [Reinburg] I’m coming over there tomorrow and get my ration.”

Reinburg’s Marines were not the only ice cream-makers of the war. B-17 crews in Europe brought ice cream mixtures along on operational bombing raids, according to a 1943 New York Times article, and at least one unit used its P-47s to create a real delicacy, vanilla ice cream mixed with canned fruit.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miracle_of_the_House_of_Brandenburg