Britain is at war with Spain?
Did I miss something?
Or perhaps I simply forgot it over all these months.
Did I miss something?
Or perhaps I simply forgot it over all these months.
-
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Never an easy task to take Gibralter. So the Prussians are winning in France but losing everywhere else - Asia, Africa (if I recall correctly) and now the south of Spain. Methinks you had best try to make a peace deal quick or debt and unrest will begin to rise higher than you can counter it. Trying to take all three of the port cities mentioned with the kind of over-whelming force needed may be asking too much. Good luck.
anonymous4401 said:
In my previous great war, I ended up making three great powers (France, Spain and Sardinia) into satellites. It's working very well... not only do they declare war on my enemies, like Britain, but they also give me a share of their prestige as they gain it. A few points a month adds up. Over time it (the prestige gain) has added up incredibly, to the point where it counterbalances my bankruptcy!
Rensslaer
Bad luck or bad planning or both for those doomed German Marines? 'Tis a pity. Mayhap next time the planners will listen to the advise of the soon to be Kaiser, eh? 
Corsario Rojo said:Congratulations, Great AAR.
Corsario, thank you very much! I'm glad you're enjoying it. Naturally, that's why I write it... partly.
The next installment of the Adventures of Joachim Longanecker is pending soon, with much more to follow.
Actually, I now have a rough plan for the AAR all the way up to 1880!!! I had a burst of activity this week.
Thank you all again!
Rensslaer
October, 1867
Kapitan Joachim Longanecker came awake for no apparent reason. He was laying with his back propped up against a scruffy tree, growing on a ledge that overlooked an arid, brush-covered landscape. Momentarily disoriented, he tried to recall how he had come to rest – and to sleep – on this rocky promontory.
At the faint rustle of a piece of paper, realization dawned. He grabbed at the book which was about to fall out of his hand, then snatched at the loose page near his foot that threatened to blow away on the mild breeze. He scrambled to pin another couple of sheets that had fallen from his lap.
These were some of the pages he had had the good fortune to liberate from a railway manager’s office as they hurried through the British port of Georgetown, at the southern extremity of Africa. It was quite a treasury of spoils, these sheets of paper were, to a literate soldier so distant from home, not to mention supply. His Stralsund Cavalry division hadn’t seen a supply train for many months, and had been forced to live off the land.
Longanecker carried his precious pages inside a worn volume of Shakespeare which he had accepted as a gift of kindness from a colonial man of philosophy he had chanced to meet in Caledon. Fortunately, English was one of the languages – of which there were twelve, so far, not counting some multiple dialects – that he could read with some sufficient understanding. The loose pieces of paper held anything from personal letters to hurried scraps of journal entries to notes of the languages and topographies that he had encountered.
He wrote his few letters in hopes of passing them along to a passing steamer or sailing vessel. Each week brought new rumors of a Prussian ship that might appear to relocate them to a more advantageous position. More and more, this ship seemed a complete fiction. But he wrote the letters anyway.
Over several months, the Stralsund Cavalry had traced a path along the south African coast – through Capetown, then Caledon, then Georgetown and then, most recently, Port Elizabeth. Between whether they were fleeing or advancing, it was difficult to choose. Either could be ably argued.
A voice carried to his ear. Perhaps this, he thought, was what had awakened him. He recognized the cadence of one conversant – one of two low, hushed voices – as that of General Schwedt. The other was Major Schultheis, the General’s aide-de-camp. Curiosity caused him to sit up and try to focus on what they were saying. He ignored the aggravating pain in his leg – resultant from a wound received in battle – which tempted him to noisily shift and scratch at it.
“I have no reason to believe that these ships are coming,” said Schwedt. “And we are fast running out of room to maneuver. We dare not enter the Dutch settlements ahead. There is only so far we should go unless we intend to violate their neutrality.”
“They might let us in,” Schultheis said, but with a tone that seemed to anticipate that was beside the point.
“They are in too precarious a position. And even if they would chance it, they haven’t the strength to maintain a sanctuary for us,” Schwedt noted. “They would pay for their kindness, and it would do no lasting good for us.”
The two men had paced to a position just below Longanecker’s perch, quite unaware that they had found his quiet reading nook. “I fear,” Schwedt went on, returning to the decision at hand, “that if we continue on to Queenstown, we allow them to mass behind us. That would be fatal.”
He paused, to contemplate, while enjoying the familiar scent of seasalt in the air. Schwedt, like many of the officers, was a native of the province from which the unit took their name. He breathed deeply, then went on. “I have no confidence in our odds. But it seems to me that our only hope is to defeat our nearest pursuers in detail, before those racing in from Springbokfontein can arrive. Perhaps we can slip past them and head west again, or perhaps we just improve our chances in a later battle to the east of here. In any case, I am sure we must double back and surprise them.”
Then, Longanecker heard a statement which encouraged him – it was typical of the brash fighting spirit they had all come to love in Schwedt. “They will be certain we cannot prevail,” said he. “Which is exactly why they will never expect it.”
“I will prepare a plan for attacking near Caledon,” Schultheis said. “Which is about where we will catch them. This, I shall look forward to!” Schultheis turned and strode back toward camp.
Longanecker savored this rare opportunity to observe their brilliant and determined commander, as he stood, thinking himself alone, and pondered their fate. He was as troubled as Longanecker had ever seen him. Admittedly, there were conflicting signs to consider.
The Cape of Good Hope, Longanecker reflected pensively… They had captured virtually the entire Cape for Prussia, though their westernmost conquests were being progressively recaptured.
To whom, now, did the good hope belong?
Kapitan Joachim Longanecker came awake for no apparent reason. He was laying with his back propped up against a scruffy tree, growing on a ledge that overlooked an arid, brush-covered landscape. Momentarily disoriented, he tried to recall how he had come to rest – and to sleep – on this rocky promontory.
At the faint rustle of a piece of paper, realization dawned. He grabbed at the book which was about to fall out of his hand, then snatched at the loose page near his foot that threatened to blow away on the mild breeze. He scrambled to pin another couple of sheets that had fallen from his lap.
These were some of the pages he had had the good fortune to liberate from a railway manager’s office as they hurried through the British port of Georgetown, at the southern extremity of Africa. It was quite a treasury of spoils, these sheets of paper were, to a literate soldier so distant from home, not to mention supply. His Stralsund Cavalry division hadn’t seen a supply train for many months, and had been forced to live off the land.
Longanecker carried his precious pages inside a worn volume of Shakespeare which he had accepted as a gift of kindness from a colonial man of philosophy he had chanced to meet in Caledon. Fortunately, English was one of the languages – of which there were twelve, so far, not counting some multiple dialects – that he could read with some sufficient understanding. The loose pieces of paper held anything from personal letters to hurried scraps of journal entries to notes of the languages and topographies that he had encountered.
He wrote his few letters in hopes of passing them along to a passing steamer or sailing vessel. Each week brought new rumors of a Prussian ship that might appear to relocate them to a more advantageous position. More and more, this ship seemed a complete fiction. But he wrote the letters anyway.
Over several months, the Stralsund Cavalry had traced a path along the south African coast – through Capetown, then Caledon, then Georgetown and then, most recently, Port Elizabeth. Between whether they were fleeing or advancing, it was difficult to choose. Either could be ably argued.
A voice carried to his ear. Perhaps this, he thought, was what had awakened him. He recognized the cadence of one conversant – one of two low, hushed voices – as that of General Schwedt. The other was Major Schultheis, the General’s aide-de-camp. Curiosity caused him to sit up and try to focus on what they were saying. He ignored the aggravating pain in his leg – resultant from a wound received in battle – which tempted him to noisily shift and scratch at it.
“I have no reason to believe that these ships are coming,” said Schwedt. “And we are fast running out of room to maneuver. We dare not enter the Dutch settlements ahead. There is only so far we should go unless we intend to violate their neutrality.”
“They might let us in,” Schultheis said, but with a tone that seemed to anticipate that was beside the point.
“They are in too precarious a position. And even if they would chance it, they haven’t the strength to maintain a sanctuary for us,” Schwedt noted. “They would pay for their kindness, and it would do no lasting good for us.”
The two men had paced to a position just below Longanecker’s perch, quite unaware that they had found his quiet reading nook. “I fear,” Schwedt went on, returning to the decision at hand, “that if we continue on to Queenstown, we allow them to mass behind us. That would be fatal.”
He paused, to contemplate, while enjoying the familiar scent of seasalt in the air. Schwedt, like many of the officers, was a native of the province from which the unit took their name. He breathed deeply, then went on. “I have no confidence in our odds. But it seems to me that our only hope is to defeat our nearest pursuers in detail, before those racing in from Springbokfontein can arrive. Perhaps we can slip past them and head west again, or perhaps we just improve our chances in a later battle to the east of here. In any case, I am sure we must double back and surprise them.”
Then, Longanecker heard a statement which encouraged him – it was typical of the brash fighting spirit they had all come to love in Schwedt. “They will be certain we cannot prevail,” said he. “Which is exactly why they will never expect it.”
“I will prepare a plan for attacking near Caledon,” Schultheis said. “Which is about where we will catch them. This, I shall look forward to!” Schultheis turned and strode back toward camp.
Longanecker savored this rare opportunity to observe their brilliant and determined commander, as he stood, thinking himself alone, and pondered their fate. He was as troubled as Longanecker had ever seen him. Admittedly, there were conflicting signs to consider.
The Cape of Good Hope, Longanecker reflected pensively… They had captured virtually the entire Cape for Prussia, though their westernmost conquests were being progressively recaptured.
To whom, now, did the good hope belong?
Nice update. I could almost feel the presence of all three characters!
I must tell you, that since Kapitan Longanecker's first appearence there has been something buzzing in the back of my head about him, and while reading about his lasting exploit (okay, listening in to one's commanding general discuss his options isn't much of an exploit, but cut the poor man some slack, eh?), I finally dawned on my what it was. I used to date a young lady by the name of Longanecker whose great-grandfather fought in WWI and his name was Joachim. Wild, no?
I must tell you, that since Kapitan Longanecker's first appearence there has been something buzzing in the back of my head about him, and while reading about his lasting exploit (okay, listening in to one's commanding general discuss his options isn't much of an exploit, but cut the poor man some slack, eh?), I finally dawned on my what it was. I used to date a young lady by the name of Longanecker whose great-grandfather fought in WWI and his name was Joachim. Wild, no?
A nice way to cover the strategy while using a lesser soldier, and I enjoyed the parts discussing his love of reading and how scarce material like that is for him.
Seems things have grown somewhat static in South Africa - a little back and forth. Let's hope this action helps them to break out.
And keep those updates coming.
Seems things have grown somewhat static in South Africa - a little back and forth. Let's hope this action helps them to break out.
And keep those updates coming.
From The Eagle Rising: The Story of Prussia's Arrival On the World Stage, pub. 1989 by Professor Reinicke Herz
In June, and July, respectively, of 1867, major rebellions occurred in two Prussian-held, British-owned Chinese provinces (Beihei and Keaho). Ultimately, they both succeeded in ejecting the Prussian infantry from those provinces. This coincided with the attack of British and British allied native troops at Ketay and Hean in September.
Previously, the Prussian 8th and 7th Corps had operated independently, hunting down isolated pockets of British troops in separate regions of China. Now that most of British China was in Prussian hands, yet once the British and her allies were making a concentrated rally in the central provinces, Prussian military strategy changed.
The 8th Corps was moved from the south into the central theater at Beihei, where they joined forces with the 7th Corps and re-secured that province in November. Then, they advanced into Hean, with similar success accomplished by early December.
The British native units were decimated and disorganized. While they retreated, the Prussians relocated by sea to put themselves in the British path of retreat so that they would never get rest or a chance to regroup. Eventually, these units were defeated. By March, 1868, British possessions in China were limited to redoubtable Hong Kong, everything else having fallen to Prussian troops.
While a sufficient garrison was left in China to put down rebellions and defend against an unlikely attack from Hong Kong, two divisions were dispatched to duties elsewhere in the Pacific. Through the rest of 1868, these detachments secured some remaining British island holdings, including the Bonin Islands, the Kurile Islands (which the British had won from Russia), and some small settlements in the East Indies (Sandalwood, Timor, etc.). At the very end of 1868, the 8th Corps arrived off the coast of British-owned Alaska.
In June, and July, respectively, of 1867, major rebellions occurred in two Prussian-held, British-owned Chinese provinces (Beihei and Keaho). Ultimately, they both succeeded in ejecting the Prussian infantry from those provinces. This coincided with the attack of British and British allied native troops at Ketay and Hean in September.
Previously, the Prussian 8th and 7th Corps had operated independently, hunting down isolated pockets of British troops in separate regions of China. Now that most of British China was in Prussian hands, yet once the British and her allies were making a concentrated rally in the central provinces, Prussian military strategy changed.
The 8th Corps was moved from the south into the central theater at Beihei, where they joined forces with the 7th Corps and re-secured that province in November. Then, they advanced into Hean, with similar success accomplished by early December.
The British native units were decimated and disorganized. While they retreated, the Prussians relocated by sea to put themselves in the British path of retreat so that they would never get rest or a chance to regroup. Eventually, these units were defeated. By March, 1868, British possessions in China were limited to redoubtable Hong Kong, everything else having fallen to Prussian troops.
While a sufficient garrison was left in China to put down rebellions and defend against an unlikely attack from Hong Kong, two divisions were dispatched to duties elsewhere in the Pacific. Through the rest of 1868, these detachments secured some remaining British island holdings, including the Bonin Islands, the Kurile Islands (which the British had won from Russia), and some small settlements in the East Indies (Sandalwood, Timor, etc.). At the very end of 1868, the 8th Corps arrived off the coast of British-owned Alaska.
Wow! Two updates within a week of each other! Does this mean you're updating regularly again, Rensslaer?
There was also some awesome writing in that first update up there.
There was also some awesome writing in that first update up there.
what forces do the British have in Alaska? IMHO, Alaska would look GOOD in Prussian Blue!Rensslaer said:
nice update!
Nice, the Prussians are moving into North America!
So, from what I recall, the Brits are getting the butts handed to them in China, but not Southeast Asia, in the Pacific, and in Europe, while they are being led on a merry chase in sub-Sahara Africa, right? That's nice, very nice.
Question for you. With the arrival of a Prussian corps of the coast of North America, what is the U.S. being doing of late? Are they worthy of being wary of, or are they beneath concern of Prussia?
So, from what I recall, the Brits are getting the butts handed to them in China, but not Southeast Asia, in the Pacific, and in Europe, while they are being led on a merry chase in sub-Sahara Africa, right? That's nice, very nice.
Question for you. With the arrival of a Prussian corps of the coast of North America, what is the U.S. being doing of late? Are they worthy of being wary of, or are they beneath concern of Prussia?
Well, the whole war at this point is kind of a tug of war. We gain some, they gain some... Kind of balances out thus far. Prussia's not happy because the debt is growing intense.Draco Rexus said:
Actually, the giant is still slumbering. At this point I hadn't seen the USA do anything of any kind of import, um.... ((thinks hard)) ... um, ever!Draco Rexus said:
Wow, that is quite a coincidence!!! :wacko: Once, when I'd created a Presidential Election game, I had friends play and one friend who I'd known a few years picked the name of a character from a sci-fi story I'd written a decade previous.Draco Rexus said:
The Joachim was chosen because I think it's a kind of cool German (and ethnic variations throughout Europe) name. Longanecker is from a girl I knew here in Colorado quite some years ago.
Ghostwriter, I don't recall that there were any British troops visible on the coastline when the troops arrived. I'll have to check the screenshots to know for sure, though.
Anonymous, Coz1, Strategist... Thank you all for your kind readership and comments! I've had several parts of this fall together recently, in a way that I wanted to get them on paper before I forgot my approach. Several updates are sketched out, even through to 1880 now. I have one update for months down the road mostly written already, and I think it should be an entertaining update. I'll update when I can, which is variable!
Thanks for your attention!!!
Rensslaer
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Well, things don't look so bad in China. If only the damn Brits would cooperate in the ROTW! Keep up the good fight!
From The Eagle Rising: The Story of Prussia's Arrival On the World Stage, pub. 1989 by Professor Reinicke Herz
The military situation in the Baltic Sea had changed dramatically in early 1867, when Russia – the sick man of Europe, nursing deep internal divisions and weakness of spirit even while concealing such facts beneath the façade of an ursine behemoth – made peace with the United Kingdom. This left Britain in control of two provinces on the Baltic shore, in addition to its captured bases in Hamburg and Jutland (Ribe), from which it could now threaten Prussia’s vulnerable northern flank.
Nevertheless, undue caution and indecision in the British Admiralty – the body which was tasked with managing the first stage of an attack on these shores – allowed the initiative to pass to the cadre of keen military minds led by Chancellor Albrecht von Roon. In April – the days following the armistice with Austria – Roon conceived a bold plan to secure Prussia’s flank by capturing these British bases.
On May 10th, a Prussian division landed on the shores of Parnau, near the Russian capital of St. Petersburg. On May 17th, von Moltke’s 1st Army assaulted British positions in Hamburg, and made quick progress. Hamburg fell on June 2nd. But at about that time, a third prong of the attack, meant to land troops at Libava, was intercepted by British naval units. The transports were forced into Memel, from where they mounted an attack by land instead.
By the end of September, both British bases on the Russian coast had been overrun, Hamburg was under Prussian control, and a collection of Prussian and North German Federation divisions had been massed in Kiel. Field Marshall von Moltke took command of these units, and on September 23rd they brought overwhelming force to bear on the British-held fortresses at Ribe. Perhaps no smaller army, or no other commander, would have been able to prevail. But after a month of fighting, the British general at Ribe surrendered his divisions to von Moltke.
Shortly after the Prussian success at Libava, the British made use of their superiority at sea and landed a force to contest the Prussians again. The Prussian Navy made efforts to slip more divisions in, and soon there was a full-blown replay of the struggle over this scrap of Lithuania. Eventually, the Prussians prevailed once more, accepting the surrender of yet another British division of marines.
After this, in the winter of 1867-68, a brief lull allowed the 20th Corps to mount steamships from Libava for a naval mission of a unique and ambitious character, to be described in detail in the next chapter. (EditAAR’s Note: This refers to the next chapter of the Herz tome, to be preceded in this account by yet another episode from the life of Joachim Longanecker, as well as a diary entry from a heretofore unintroduced character)
But, despite the brief arrival of calm on the Baltic front, more bloody skirmishes were to come. Finally appreciating the situation that might well have given them total victory had they pressed their advantages in early 1867, in January and February of 1868 the British made further naval landings.
At Swinemunde, the Prussians assembled a sufficient opposing force to isolate the British and prevent their moving inland. They captured the British divisions, and rapidly moved to assist against another British invasion to the east.
At Libava, their former stronghold, the British landed a third time, now in sufficient strength to dislodge the Prussian garrison. They followed through in the remainder of the spring, capturing Memel, and assaulting the approaches to the old capital of Konigsberg itself.
The arrival of the divisions from Swinemunde stopped the British advance and changed the dynamics on the ground. Through the summer of 1868, the Prussians pushed the British back, and recaptured Memel. Afterward followed a long standoff while each side weighed their chances of dislodging the other, and found them wanting. It was not until March of 1869 that a Prussian assault succeeded in finally capturing these British divisions at Libava.
While the battles in East Prussia are interesting, they proved a sideshow to what would turn out to be the final, decisive battle – a contest for the very heart of modern Prussia. On April 27th, while the Battle of Konigsberg played out, British divisions made a landing at Bremen. These were only the first of dozens with which the Prussian Imperial Army would have to contend over the next year.
The military situation in the Baltic Sea had changed dramatically in early 1867, when Russia – the sick man of Europe, nursing deep internal divisions and weakness of spirit even while concealing such facts beneath the façade of an ursine behemoth – made peace with the United Kingdom. This left Britain in control of two provinces on the Baltic shore, in addition to its captured bases in Hamburg and Jutland (Ribe), from which it could now threaten Prussia’s vulnerable northern flank.
Nevertheless, undue caution and indecision in the British Admiralty – the body which was tasked with managing the first stage of an attack on these shores – allowed the initiative to pass to the cadre of keen military minds led by Chancellor Albrecht von Roon. In April – the days following the armistice with Austria – Roon conceived a bold plan to secure Prussia’s flank by capturing these British bases.
On May 10th, a Prussian division landed on the shores of Parnau, near the Russian capital of St. Petersburg. On May 17th, von Moltke’s 1st Army assaulted British positions in Hamburg, and made quick progress. Hamburg fell on June 2nd. But at about that time, a third prong of the attack, meant to land troops at Libava, was intercepted by British naval units. The transports were forced into Memel, from where they mounted an attack by land instead.
By the end of September, both British bases on the Russian coast had been overrun, Hamburg was under Prussian control, and a collection of Prussian and North German Federation divisions had been massed in Kiel. Field Marshall von Moltke took command of these units, and on September 23rd they brought overwhelming force to bear on the British-held fortresses at Ribe. Perhaps no smaller army, or no other commander, would have been able to prevail. But after a month of fighting, the British general at Ribe surrendered his divisions to von Moltke.
Shortly after the Prussian success at Libava, the British made use of their superiority at sea and landed a force to contest the Prussians again. The Prussian Navy made efforts to slip more divisions in, and soon there was a full-blown replay of the struggle over this scrap of Lithuania. Eventually, the Prussians prevailed once more, accepting the surrender of yet another British division of marines.
After this, in the winter of 1867-68, a brief lull allowed the 20th Corps to mount steamships from Libava for a naval mission of a unique and ambitious character, to be described in detail in the next chapter. (EditAAR’s Note: This refers to the next chapter of the Herz tome, to be preceded in this account by yet another episode from the life of Joachim Longanecker, as well as a diary entry from a heretofore unintroduced character)
But, despite the brief arrival of calm on the Baltic front, more bloody skirmishes were to come. Finally appreciating the situation that might well have given them total victory had they pressed their advantages in early 1867, in January and February of 1868 the British made further naval landings.
At Swinemunde, the Prussians assembled a sufficient opposing force to isolate the British and prevent their moving inland. They captured the British divisions, and rapidly moved to assist against another British invasion to the east.
At Libava, their former stronghold, the British landed a third time, now in sufficient strength to dislodge the Prussian garrison. They followed through in the remainder of the spring, capturing Memel, and assaulting the approaches to the old capital of Konigsberg itself.
The arrival of the divisions from Swinemunde stopped the British advance and changed the dynamics on the ground. Through the summer of 1868, the Prussians pushed the British back, and recaptured Memel. Afterward followed a long standoff while each side weighed their chances of dislodging the other, and found them wanting. It was not until March of 1869 that a Prussian assault succeeded in finally capturing these British divisions at Libava.
While the battles in East Prussia are interesting, they proved a sideshow to what would turn out to be the final, decisive battle – a contest for the very heart of modern Prussia. On April 27th, while the Battle of Konigsberg played out, British divisions made a landing at Bremen. These were only the first of dozens with which the Prussian Imperial Army would have to contend over the next year.