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Guys

Admittedly, despite his name Kurt seems to be Catalan based but you do realise what comments like this do to stereotypes about Germans. ;)

Wouldn't it be better, especially in a fairly public forum to keep national insults out of it? I know there were a lot of smilies there but why do it in the 1st place?

You see, on this forum it's a sport to make fun of French fighting prowress, Italian Tanks, British tea drinking and Russian Bear Cavalry. All in good fun and with no offence taken by either side.


In terms of the two chapters that came up while I was on hols

a) Why would Canaris and Oster still be warning German uniforms heading into this meeting. If we want to keep their presence as secret as possibly then get them into civvies ASAP. I agree that in reality Ian would never expose the secret of Ultra like that. Bound to be gossip amongst the defectors and that could easily spread.

Rule of cool I'm afraid. :eek:o

b) On the Tibetan front, given their suddenly been hit by a massive Soviet invasion why are the Japanese/Chinese trying to throw out the small British intrusion into Tibet? Or is it a local initiative?

Steve

No tibetian front. They are indeed hit by a massive Soviet Invasion, what the Chinese did there was not trying to turn back an Invasion, it was to secure advantagous defensive positions at a front that was pretty much non-existent until the Soviets attacked. It's just that the British where just that small bit faster in acting.
 
Enough of this! What of the South Essex?!

NewPicture9-19.png


"I always find a flogging brings on a spleen"
 
The South Essex save that one Battalion is part of the so-called 'Light Division' and serving in Italy.
 
You see, on this forum it's a sport to make fun of French fighting prowress, Italian Tanks, British tea drinking and Russian Bear Cavalry. All in good fun and with no offence taken by either side.
Indeed, entire comedy AARs have been assembled from those ingredients and little else. Not saying they were any good mind, just that no-one complained about taking offence.
 
Chapter 237


“Be that as it may, mein Führer, the traitor has taken with him a great many secrets, and me must have given some of them to the English before he died.”

Reinhard Heydrich was looking at the Führer across the table in the latter's spacious office.

“Do we have any idea just what he might have told them?”

Heydrich made a show of looking through his papers even though he knew the question to this answer by heart, having it rehearsed before entering the building.

“The SD is still searching the premises belonging to the Abwehr, but so far we are sure that the biggest secret he took was a list of our agents in Britain, Ireland and perhaps also Canada.”

Hitler didn't reply at first and instead looked at the globe standing behind Heydrich, a close copy to the one on the Berghof.

“How much information did we get from them?”

“Difficult to say, mein Führer. They were run by the Abwehr so it will take a while to evaluate the reports and the ammount of truth they contain. For all we know the traitor has never forwarded the information to anyone.”

“So there is war-vital information hidden away in their cellars.”

Heydrich nodded even though Hitler was still looking at the globe.


“Yes, mein Führer. There are mountains upon mountains of files though, and it will take some time to evaluate it all.”

In fact the men of the RSHA were already hard at work doing this, but Heydrich was stalling for time, time to figure out what to do next. That the German Intelligence Community was reeling from the defection was like comparing the war to a playground brawl, even though the RSHA was likely to come out on top of everything. Within hours of hearing Canaris had crossed the border Heydrich had arrested everyone above the secretarial level at the Abwehr, and even though most of them were loyal Germans some would never see the light of day again for a whole variety of reasons. The point however was that in spite of it all Canaris and Oster had most likely acted alone and tracking down those that had helped them would be very hard. Heydrich himself had spoken with Field Marshal Rommel and Oberst Steiner and neither had been negligent, that much he had to admit; if they were then they were acting very very clever.

Rommel and Steiner had pointed out that Canaris had used credentials with Hitler's signature on them which was most likely even genuine considering how many papers the Führer signed each day, and thus couldn't have known that Canaris was going to go to Switzerland. All that the men in Rommel's Headquarters, now established north of Marseilles, knew was that Canaris had arrived, requisitioned a car and driven off. Heydrich disliked Rommel and didn't trust him, but the Field Marshal was still a favourite of the Führer in spite of his failure to hold Italy, so being any rougher with him would not be well received.


When he was dismissed he walked down the long corridor and began formulating a course of action. First order of businessman was to make sure that the Chickenfarmer didn't get his sweaty hands on the Abwehr, the SD and the RSHA could benefit far more from absorbing the service, and if he played his cards right, then he would control the Intelligence apparatus of the German Reich for the foreseeable future, because after all neither Himmler nor the Führer would live forever....

Three hours later he was stepping through the main entrance of Abwehr Headquarters, lazily returning the salute of the two SS Guards at the entrance.

Near the entrance to the cellar he saw his somewhat trusted Lieutenant, Adolf Eichmann standing near a pile of files that he had compiled while leaving his other duties[1] in the hands of his subordinates for once.


“Aynthing special?”

“We couldn't find anything, Sir.” Eichmann said, “Which is the problem. We can't find any evidence of missing files, tampered records. That too is hardly surprising, but it doesn't make our work any easier.”


Eichmann had stopped talking but Heydrich knew that there was more. Unlike Himmler he didn't let his wrath fall on his subordinates for negative answers if it wasn't their fault.

“Speak freely, Eichmann.”

“We might never find out, Sir. What we do know however is that a list that was kept in the personal safe of the traitor is missing. It was full of potential agents that we were thinking of recruiting, mostly in Ireland for use in the United Kingdom.”

“Great. And how did he get a hold onto a list of potential SD operatives?”

“That we do not know yet. All we know is what his secretary told us, she said that he once remarked of the list to her in passing, which is how we know about it in the first place.”

“You can trust her?”

“I believe so, Sir. She wasn't here long enough to have more than passing knowledge of any possible conspiracy and she is a party member since 1928.”

“Let her go then, but keep her under observation.”

With that he left Eichmann to his devices and walked towards the grand staircase.


Commie-Yank.png


On the other side of the world, in what had been Minnesota and at the same time something far more shady was going on, but to understand it one must have a look at the more recreational side of the UAPR. As can be expected in any totalitarian Communist state, the Government encouraged sports as a way of enriching body, mind and to keep the recreational time under as much influence and control as could be accomplished. During and after the war the major teams were taken over by the state if they still existed after the dust settled.

The big reorganization after it was all over clearly showed in what direction the sports would go because the first thing banned were all forms of Hockey of all things because of 'the bourgeois heritage' in general and 'vulgarity' in particular where Ice Hockey was concerned, somewhat ironic when one considers that the National Football League was integrated without hitch.

Sneaking through the night, the person at the centre of everything that was going to happen was only too aware of that, in fact he had seen it when the surviving staff and players of the Detroit Red Wings had been shot in 1935 for trying to defect to Canada. He had seen however that one of them had hidden something very particular in a basement near where they had been captured. For the last six years he had been wrestling with the decision while working his day job as a welder in one of the factory combines that had replaced the Companies of the city. He had been thinking about it when he had welded together M-40[2] Tanks, he had been thinking about it when visiting the grave of his wife. Six years. Six years that he had been checking up on the basement in the still ruined neighbourhood, only in the last two had he begun serious planning. And faithfully he had come here each sunday after dark. Whenever he saw the object his thoughts had revolved around all this time his resolve hardened and now the day was finally at hand.

He knew that he would never be able to go back and that Prison was probably the least thing that would await him, but he had to do this, for the sport. He had even borrowed one of the Combine's trucks, claiming that he needed it to help a relative move house. The trucks, if not needed were officially available to the workers for purposes like this one, so he would have at least a day before anyone suspected anything. He was now just outside the 'Border Exclusion Defence Zone' where you were instantly arrested if encountered without papers, and he was feeling positively naked without them. It doubted that his story of being ordered to deliver 'confidential materials' would hold up against even the most cursory of examinations, but it was all he had, and since he had managed to wind his way through the net of military camps that made up much of the border areas in the northern UAPR. Luckily for him many of those were empty with the troops at the west coast or in the Pacific.

He turned back and looked at the flatbed of the truck, and even though it was hidden away under some tarpaulin and canvas it inspired him. He slammed the truck into gear, pushed down the accelerator and so catapulted it back onto the road. He knew that this road lead to a small village directly at the border, once known as Pine View, now known as Border Post 233. If he managed to get there without being intercepted then he had a good chance at breaking through the still weak border defences and into Canada, and once he was there, he would be free and his mission would be over. It was less than two miles to the border, the truck would take little more than twenty minutes for that distance. Amazingly enough he didn't meet any Military police or normal Army troops – until he saw a Checkpoint at the edge of the small assembly of houses that had once been a thriving village. He knew that this was going to happen, but inbetween what he had with him and the tantalizingly close golden Maple Leaf on the flag less than half a mile down the line. He slowed down as if he were going to stop just short of the line and the Soldiers of the border Security Service relaxed. He then pushed the pedal down to the floor of the cabin, the diesel Engine roared to life and the vehicle jumped forward and he broke through checkpoint before the surprised soldiers could act. He raced past the guardhouse and was halfway down the road before the first shots rang out. One part of his mind recognized the distinctive voice of a Springfield bolt-action rifle, but he quickly forgot that when the bullets began to smash into the cabin. As he passed the former toll booth he could feel two, no three bullets impacting into his body, and before he had fully crossed the border, he knew that he was dying. He still managed to avoid the Canadian Mounties that had raced outside from their own hut on the sound of gunfire. As the battered truck came to a halt he saw them racing towards him as his world slowly turned black.

The Canadians relaxed the grip on their No.4s when they saw that the Americans were not invading and instead concentrated on the lorry. The driver had been hit by far too many bullets to still be alive, but there was something on the back of the lorry, and judging by how much rope the man had used to tie it down, it had to be very important. The men pulled away the tarpolin and canvas and then they could see what it was.

“Jesus Christ, Sergeant, is that what I think it is?” said one of them.

The Sergeant was a religious Toronto Maple Leafs supporter.

“It is.”

His heart jumped up and suddenly he knew he would be in a good mood for weeks to come. He inspected the object and he could see that it had been reasonably well looked after but there were still some parts that would need attention. He had never seen it in person, and he was almost tentative when he touched it.

“It's the Stanley Cup.” he said.


StanleyCup1927-471.jpg









[Notes: The Stanley-Cup thing is a little present for the Canadians. You know who you are.]

[1] Which cannot be specified due to forum rules.

[2] In essence a Sherman.
 
The Stanley Cup? Not the plans for a mass-destruction weapon?

D'oh!

:D

BTW, if you manage to get Himmler killed and not Heydrich we may have a lot of fun.
 
The Stanley Cup? Not the plans for a mass-destruction weapon?
Communist states import weapon plans, the ones they develop themselves are normally rubbish.
ja.gif
 
AK 47. Nuffsaid.
Indeed it proves my point perfectly. A gun cobbled together from bits of everyone else's guns, none of which were Russian. It was therefore entirely almost developed by other non-communist countries, unless you're counting 'stealing other people's ideas and subtly making them worse' as development. ;)
 
Ummm, yey for Hockey? Whatever that is: true members of the Empire play Rugby and Cricket, and maybe Association Football if members of the lower classes. *puts on monocle*
 
Indeed it proves my point perfectly. A gun cobbled together from bits of everyone else's guns, none of which were Russian. It was therefore entirely almost developed by other non-communist countries, unless you're counting 'stealing other people's ideas and subtly making them worse' as development. ;)

Inspiration is not theft.

And it's still used today, in numerous countries. It provides a low cost effective solution to firing bullets are other people and hitting them and it and it's derivatives are in use in several MODERN armies.

But this is not the time.
 
Trek, would it be possible to have a round up of the situation at some point: maybe whenever we reach the end of a year? It would be interesting to get a sort of HQ update of what the top brass are thinking, at what they know about the rest of the world.

Also, this AAR continues to be top notch.
 
Kurt_Steiner Himmler or Heydrich, we will get to that, eventually.

El Pip As seen with the RR Nene.

KaiserMuffin Thank you.

Darknesskilla
As said on MSN, we have a similar thing over here for the footie.

El Pip Well, the AK-47 is a weapon of mass destruction in a way, whoever actually designed it.

Lord Strange Of course mylord. But alas, the Colonials in Canada like Hockey.

KaiserMuffin Points to above post.

Lord Strange&Carlstadt Boy Consider it done.
 
Trek, would it be possible to have a round up of the situation at some point: maybe whenever we reach the end of a year? It would be interesting to get a sort of HQ update of what the top brass are thinking, at what they know about the rest of the world.

Also, this AAR continues to be top notch.

Ever word agreed with - noting that you've agreed to this, I would just like to say that it is a good point. Your AAR is so vast in scope that a simple minded reader (ie me) is easily overwhelmed!
 
I've already started on it, but alas, exam hiatus from next week, so no ETA. I'll of course write a few lines here and there, but not much more than that.
 
you know , old man , somehow it's always the little quirks that add flavour to your AAR that I enjoy the most XD
 
I find most of my inspiration in the work of others to be honest. For example, I decided to bring Felix back after watching Diamonds are forever and if you look closely quite a few scenes are inspired by greater works of fiction than mine. :eek:o