Just read through part of this AAR. Post #4 especially looks promising 
An aggressive Britain which will ignore continental Europe. subscribed!
An aggressive Britain which will ignore continental Europe. subscribed!
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*Discreetly revs engine*
Sorry for the long wait, all! To make it up to you, I announce:
Sorry for the long wait, all! To make it up to you, I announce:
DOUBLE-LENGTH UPDATE TOMORROW
Glorious Isolation
In Britain, the February of 1937 will forever be remembered, or more accurately, forever forgotten, due to its incredible uneventfulness, like most months of the 1930s. Nothing new was ordered by the government, indeed, there was little legislation passed at all in the Commons. Excepting those who kept geese for private use near a public waterway, the public was unbothered by politics for the last month of winter. People concerned themselves with warmth, for the most part. It was a particularly cold winter, with nearly all of Britain snow-bound.
British children made the most of a violently cold winter.
The only scraps of military occurrence were the arrival of some new wings of Hawker Hurricanes, to replace the utterly archaic bi-planes currently serving with the RAF, and an order to halt production delivered to factories previously constructing two brigades of Matilda tanks. Just as the final run was beginning, the government was forced to halt, as more infantry would have been required to escort the tanks than was currently available.
Whilst arranging a sale of rubber to New Zealand on the 2nd of February, Anthony Eden was informed by the Canadian Ambassador of the cancellation of a trade deal for metal. It was money Britain didn’t need, and Canada was clearly better off without the metal, so the cancellation was amiable. The deal was struck with New Zealand within an hour of Eden’s meeting with the envoy. While this was happening, a report on advancements in infantry warfare theory and training was making its way to the desks of Cyril Deverell, John Gort and David Lloyd George.
Advancements in the understanding of infantry warfare and various trade occurrences took place on the 2nd of February.
Three days later, and more reports were sent to more desks. This time, one contained a highly complex and very in depth blueprint outlining a very interesting new destroyer engine and the other was a short notice, explaining how British researchers had reached a milestone in understanding of naval engineering. Both reports were good, but fairly inconsequential news, and were well received by Admiral Chatfield.
Advancements in naval technology were made.
Finally, two more notices of progress were issued, on the 17th. A new ‘offensive support weapon’ was unveiled, but whether it was mortar, machine gun, grenade or something else was unknown, as the report was filled with indecipherable technological babble. At length it was decided to upgrade anyway, as it was probably worthwhile. The cabinet decided that since it was probably meant for the infantry, they would get it. Fortunately, there could be no misunderstandings on the other report. It read thusly: ‘Aeronautic engineering advance. Initiate level three?’ After some consultation with experts, Owen Boyd informed the government that the pool of educated men required would be better used if they were “re-directed” towards careers as officers in the armed forces. This was done.
Two further technological advances were made in February.
Some of Britain’s new Hawker Hurricanes fly above England.
* * * I N T E R M I S S I O N * * *
Get ready for part two! Pop-corn is on sale in the lobby!
* * * I N T E R M I S S I O N E N D S * * *
Pinball Wizard
David Lloyd George sits at his desk in 10, Downing Street. He is concentrating furiously and occasionally making lines or notes on a large sheet of paper with great precision.
David Lloyd George: Thirty-two centimetres should fit…
Lloyd George gets out a tape measure and measures a section of wall.
David Lloyd George: Close, but reasonable enough… There we go! It’s done at last.
Lloyd George stands up and admires his work. It is a very intricate, expertly designed model of a pinball machine. It is clear he is about to start making it.
David Lloyd George: Wait till Eden sees this… he-he…
A faint trickle of sand-like material begins to drop from the ceiling, making a small pile on the drawing.
David Lloyd George: Eh?
An almighty crash can be heard as the ceiling falls in. Water also comes down, totally drenching the drawing. The paper disintegrates. Then, splitting the desk clean in two with his fall, a naked Winston Churchill falls into the room, covered in bubbles. He holds a rubber duck in one hand and a whiskey tumbler in the other.
David Lloyd George: WHY IN HELL ARE YOU HAVING A BATH IN MY HOUSE, WINSTON?
Churchill is too drunk to be shocked at the volume of Lloyd George, but not drunk enough to not understand him.
Winston Churchill: Long story…
David Lloyd George: Well, since you just ruined a fortnight’s work, I have a fair bit of time on my hands.
Winston Churchill: Well, it all started in the Boer War, you see…
David Lloyd George: Not that much time, Winston.
Winston Churchill: Right… err… well I was on your roof…
David Lloyd George: What brought you on to my roof?
Winston Churchill: A dare! A dare that I jolly well won!
Churchill smiles with boyish pride.
David Lloyd George: A dare from whom?
Winston Churchill: Oh, myself.
David Lloyd George: Right… and how did you bypass security? There are always at least ten policemen here at all times.
Winston Churchill: I just walked in. Of course, I am pretty hard to spot! Me being Secret Service material and all that helps, you know.
David Lloyd George: Winston, you’re wider than I am tall.
Churchill looks shocked, then very sad, then defiant. He reaches to roll up his sleeves.
David Lloyd George: Whatever, whatever… How did you get to the roof, anyway?
Winston Churchill: Oh, I used a drainpipe and some window ledges. I accidently kicked the drainpipe once, though, but I’m sure it’s alright.
More boyish pride from Churchill
David Lloyd George: You got up there first time?
Winston Churchill: It took a couple of tries…
Churchill proudly lifts up his trouser leg, showing a huge gash. His right arm has a similar wound.
Lloyd George goes to the window. On the ground outside there is a huge pool of blood and the shattered remains of the drainpipe. A policeman is inspecting the scene. He sees Lloyd George.
Policeman: Any idea what happened here, sir?
David Lloyd George: Err… window cleaner?
Policeman: Very good, sir.
The policeman walks off. Lloyd George turns around, heading back to the desk when he sees the back of Churchill’s head. A huge piece of lead drainpipe has impaled itself in his skull. Churchill is oblivious. Lloyd George decides to let it go.
David Lloyd George: Well… How did you get from my roof to my bathroom?
Winston Churchill: Err… your roof had a… weak spot. I stood in it.
David Lloyd George: There is a hole in my roof?
Winston Churchill: Only a small one!
David Lloyd George: If you fell through it, I doubt it is small.
Churchill hangs his head in shame.
David Lloyd George: Anyway… is the hole above the bathroom?
Winston Churchill: No, I was lucky enough to fall on your bed!
David Lloyd George: Note to self, buy new bed.
Winston Churchill: From there, I helped myself to a drink. My exertions had taken their toll, you see.
David Lloyd George: How many drinks?
Winston Churchill: Hmm…
Churchill starts counting on his fingers, but is stuck when he runs out of fingers.
Winston Churchill: Two or three?
David Lloyd George: And after your ‘refreshments’?
Winston Churchill: I thought I’d have a bath.
David Lloyd George: Just to run through this, you dared yourself to climb onto my rough, sneaked past ten trained policemen, destroyed a lead drainpipe climbing up the wall, fell through my roof, obliterated my bed, helped yourself to most of my whiskey, had a bath and then fell through the floor and onto my desk.
Winston Churchill: I was playing tidal wave?
David Lloyd George: What?
Winston Churchill: The reason I fell through the floor was that I was playing tidal wave in the bath.
David Lloyd George: Tidal wave?
Winston Churchill: Tidal wave.
David Lloyd George: Bloody hell… You may go, Winston.
Churchill heads to the window, ready to start climbing down.
David Lloyd George: Feel free to use the door.
Churchill exits the room, dejected.
David Lloyd George: That’s enough of February in Britain for me…
Lloyd George picks up the phone.
David Lloyd George: Reddington?
Reddington: Yes, sir?
David Lloyd George: Book me three weeks in the Azores.
Reddington: Usual suite, sir?
David Lloyd George: Yes, please.
Reddington: Very good, sir.
Lloyd George puts the phone down.
David Lloyd George: Thank God for butlers…
Sorry guys, but I'm really busy at the moment and haven't (and may not for some time) be able to update. Please bear with me and keep this alive until I can resume updates.
S O R R Y !
I have returned from my exodus. Good afternoon, all.
I've decided that I do want to keep going on this AAR, but sadly I can't guarentee anywhere near the number of updates. I expect that once a week, at most, will be as much as I can manage for at least two months. Nevertheless, I have made up my mind to not let this AAR die.
Expect an update very soon...
I've decided that I do want to keep going on this AAR, but sadly I can't guarentee anywhere near the number of updates. I expect that once a week, at most, will be as much as I can manage for at least two months. Nevertheless, I have made up my mind to not let this AAR die.
Expect an update very soon...
Shuffles and Shake-Ups
April 1937 began with a still fairly new government in charge of a country that was still divided and unsure of its place in a changing world. David Lloyd George was widely seen as a steady, firm and reliable leading figure, but there were also many in Britain who strongly believed that he was an old man, whose time had been in the days of the Great War. The public were also divided on foreign policy. With much of the world beginning to edge into subtle rearmament, many called for Britain to set an example of peacefulness and isolation. Lloyd George was not one of them. All too aware of Stalin’s ambitions and Hirohito’s ever expanding influence, the Prime Minister knew that a weak Britain would flounder and disintegrate in the next decade. Only a strong Britain, a Britain prepared to let some suffer so that the rest could survive, would march into the future with grand Empire still intact.
Driven by this understanding, Lloyd George did all he could to instil this spirit and sense of urgency into his cabinet. Anthony Eden, the Foreign Minister, was firmly unsentimental. Though he would not be swayed by the Prime Minister’s images of golden futures, his sense of duty and iron morality bound him to his country’s service. Lloyd George knew that he could count on Eden’s steadfastness.
Neville Chamberlain was a different matter entirely. Prone to letting the economy derail itself, Chamberlain’s only redeeming factor was his ability to somehow convince the British people to get by on fewer consumer goods without complaint. The Armament Minister (for that was Chamberlain’s role in government) was, in Lloyd George’s mind, a weak and spineless pacifist, ready to give into the Communists, the Japanese and anyone else who made demands. Although the Prime Minister would have liked little more than removing the Armament Minister from office, Chamberlain’s benefits to the economy and British industry were simply too great to ignore.
Lloyd George held Neville Chamberlain in low regard.
Most of the rest of Lloyd George’s cabinet were, in his opinion, altogether a reasonable collection of individuals. Though Hugh Sinclair, as Intelligence Chief, had precious little to occupy his time with, he did nothing scandalous, or even worth remarking on. This was fine by the Prime Minister. Lord Gort, Cyril Deverell and Admiral Chatfield were all believers in Lloyd George’s plan for Britain. They agreed that a Britain that was not prepared for war with any expansionist power would have no place at the forefront of the world.
Owen Boyd, however, was less than supportive of Lloyd George’s world view. Agreeing with Neville Chamberlain, the Chief of the R.A.F. was adamant that Britain would never have to fight a major war unless she brought one about herself. This was anathema to the Prime Minister. This alone would not have been enough to herald Boyd’s departure; Lloyd George was anxious not to court controversy, like his predecessor. Fortunately for him, Boyd’s handling of home defence interceptor units had been lacklustre and substandard. After ensuring that the press got to know of the state of Britain’s interceptor force, Owen Boyd was subtly edged out of office. In his place came Hugh Dowding. A committed professional, Dowding was much like Eden. Driven by a strong sense of duty to his country, Dowding was determined to secure British shores against any air assault.
Hugh Dowding is appointed as Chief of the Royal Air Force.
After his replacement of Owen Boyd, Lloyd George turned his attention to the more regular occurrences of government. The 2nd of April saw Admiral Chatfield inform him that Britain had a more developed theoretical understanding of naval engineering than ever before. Lloyd George asked him to continue the research. Almost simultaneously, Anthony Eden informed him of a proposal from the Mexican ambassador. The Mexicans suggested that they export some surplus metal to Britain for a small fee. Eden was anxious to shore up Britain’s metal reserves, leading Lloyd George to accept the proposal, to the delight of the Mexicans.
The decisions and notifications put before Lloyd George on the 2nd of April were straightforward.
Two days later, and the cabinet were assembled to make a decision that was anything but straightforward. Lloyd George and Admiral Chatfield gave them the simple facts. Based on current estimates, four aircraft carriers would not be a strong enough force were war to break out in or around 1940. The Japanese would be fielding more carriers, potentially of a higher standard than the British ones. The Italians were known to have a modern battleship fleet. Six carriers would be necessary for absolute coverage of British territory. These would need to be completed by 1942 at the very latest.
The first opposition to this came from Chamberlain. He claimed that aggression from around the world had largely been overstated and that no nation currently posed a real threat to Britain. He said that building even more carriers would be a huge blow to the British economy, which had only recently risen from the depths of the 1930 economic crisis. Gort countered by citing the Japanese expansion into Manchukuo and the installation of a puppet regime as a sign of increasing Japanese aggression. Dowding and Deverell agreed. Although the cabinet had decided that more aircraft carriers were needed, Chamberlain’s words on the economy had not been foolish. Lloyd George judged British industry not yet able to produce three carriers and their aircraft simultaneously, whilst also manufacturing consumer goods and upgrading out-dated equipment. Therefore, it was agreed that one more aircraft carrier would enter production at once, with a third joining them at a later date. The name of the first new carrier had already been fixed at ‘Ark Royal’. A brief discussion among Chatfield and his naval staff had decided on ‘Illustrious’ as a suitable name for the next carrier. With all decided, orders were placed for one new aircraft carrier and its air group.
The HMS Illustrious enters production, to be completed early in 1940.
The Mexican trade proposition, which had seemed promising less than a week earlier, was terminated by the Mexicans on the 8th of April. No reason was given for the cancellation of the deal. Lloyd George and Dowding were more impressed by reports of improved aeronautic engineering knowledge.
Foreign policy and technological advancement were part of the occurrences on the 8th of April.
Lloyd George’s earlier cabinet reshuffle had prompted him to inquire with Deverell as to the feasibility of streamlining Home Command. After looking into the situation, the Chief of the Army informed Lloyd George that he considered there to be too many HQ staff brigades supervising too few actual troops. He recommended that Northern and Scottish commands be merged, whilst the same happened to Southern and Eastern Commands. All Commands were to cut down on Army Corps numbers, with a minimum requirement of two divisions per Army Corps put into place.
The new command chain under Home Command is shown. Also shown is the movement of divisions brought about by the new command structure.
With the command chain fully reorganised on paper by the fifteenth, six uneventful days passed, marked only by the movement of divisions to their new posts. On the 21st, however, news of a major development in foreign trade reached Lloyd George’s ears. The American government cancelled a major deal for the import of British coal. This had provided a large amount of money to the British government. The British people met the news with disapproval. Public opinion of America massively decreased, with some radical voices even calling for an embargo. Of far more interest to the cabinet, however, was the surprise development of a new aircraft carrier engine. After he and his staff had looked through it, Admiral Chatfield informed the Prime Minister that the new engine was more efficient and effective than its predecessor, which was currently being implemented on the HMS Illustrious. Knowing that there would be no chance to upgrade the engine, Lloyd George gave the order that the Illustrious be discreetly scrapped and replaced with an alternative bearing the newer, better engine. This replacement carrier was to be called the HMS Victorious.
News of a new aircraft carrier engine was unveiled on the 21st.
The HMS Victorious enters production, whilst the embryo of the HMS Illustrious is quietly scrapped.
The 22nd of April passed without incident, but the 23rd saw a pivotal moment in European history. Francisco Franco’s Nationalist troops finally crushed the last bastion of Republican resistance, leaving him fully in control of Spain. Although the British were generally more supportive of Franco than they had been of the Left-leaning radicals of the Republican days, some concerns were raised over the safety of Gibraltar.
The Spanish royalists triumph, ending the civil war.
The 26th of April heralded more technological advancement for the United Kingdom. Chatfield was very pleased with a new design concept for destroyers, which put Britain at the cutting edge of destroyer technology. Deverell was also happy with the advances of his theorists into what he called a ‘Grand Battle Plan’.
Technological advances on the 26th of April put Britain at the forefront of destroyer research.
The final day of April brought with it more good news in the technological sector. Dowding had long maintained that a strong central command was needed for bombing missions, to prevent bomber wings from being worn down by a high number of missions. He was pleased to report that Britain’s central air command had been made more efficient and effective due to new research. At the same time, Eden pressured for the acceptance of a proposal from Iraq. The Iraqis offered Britain some of their coal for a very good price. Eden, conscious of a wobble in British coal reserves, was eager to accept. The deal was soon signed.
The final day of April was not without event.
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Thanks for reading!
Thanks for reading!
I'm honoured, gentlemen.
This ship isn't sinking yet!
(Nervously looks for gaping hole in waterline)
This ship isn't sinking yet!
(Nervously looks for gaping hole in waterline)
Crossing The Line
Inside 10, Downing Street, the cabinet is assembled for a party. With them is the Mexican Ambassador, along with several high ranking Mexican officials. They are all inside the meeting room, sitting in a circle. A bottle of whiskey is being passed round, as part of a drinking game in which they share secrets.
Hugh Dowding: O-O-Ok, A-Austen, it’s your – Hic! – turn.
He hands the bottle to Austen Chamberlain, who takes it. Although he has consumed an unbelievable volume of alcohol and can barely stay conscious, his speech is unaffected.
Austen Chamberlain: So, what shall I say, chaps?
Mexican Ambassador: How about… what’s the most number of times you’ve…
At this point, the Ambassador reverts to Spanish. An aide, who is totally sober, is forced to translate the Ambassador’s rather lewd words.
Sober Aide: … and the Ambassador says that this should be the question.
John Gort: Come again?
Cyril Deverell falls asleep and starts snoring loudly.
Cyril Deverell: I think… I think… I think that… If you ask me… I think…
Deverell also falls asleep.
Ernle Chatfield: Ok, guys, I’ve got it!
Chatfield is almost paralysed with laughter.
Ernle Chatfield: Who do you hate more, Austen… C-Cyril or Eden…
Chatfield Belches and a set of glasses in a nearby cabinet rattle, ominously. Eden is standing on his chair and has been giving a rousing edition of ‘Deutschland, Über Alles’ for the last twenty minutes.
Austen: Well, you see, I couldn’t really pick between either of them as of now. However, the one blighter who really gets on my nerves is that Mexican Ambassador. He’s a blithering idiot, a thick headed pen-pusher and hopelessly inept at the best of times. I can’t count the number of Mexicans I’ve killed.
Gort: Mexican spies you’ve killed?
Austen Chamberlain: Who said anything about spies? Anyway, I’ve always made sure to dump their still warm corpses on his desk. It hasn’t deterred him, though…
Mexican Ambassador: ¡Santo Dios! Va a morir, imbécil…
John Gort: Come again?
As Austen Chamberlain casually takes out a pipe and begins to smoke, the Mexican Ambassador rolls up his sleeves and cracks his knuckles. In the nick of time, Eden stops him from advancing towards Chamberlain by offering him more whiskey. As the Ambassador takes a drink, Eden pushes the bottom of the bottle upwards, meaning that the Ambassador drinks the entire bottle. Eden moves back to his seat, leaving the Ambassador on the floor; Eden is still singing ‘Deutschland, Über Alles’ lustily.
Mexican Ambassador: Santo Dios…
John Gort: Come again?
At this point, Lloyd George comes in. Although everyone can remember him being present at the beginning of the party and he has never been seen leaving, he is clearly still sober. He begins to slowly drag the Ambassador out of the room.
Sober Aide: ¡Señor, you cannot remove the Embajador in this way!
Lloyd George gives a strange wave of his hand.
David Lloyd George: This isn’t the Ambassador you’re looking for…
The Sober Aid walks away.
David Lloyd George: Don’t worry, I’ll ensure that he won’t remember a thing…
Lloyd George struggles to conceal an evil laugh.
Mexican Ambassador: Me duele la cabeza…
John Gort: Come again?
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Thanks For Reading!