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yes, a good update. nice to hear more about the unholy alliance, and a glimpse of hitler's motives :D

i know this is an alternate timeline, but hitler didnt think goering was an idiot, my understanding was hitler named him as his successor?
 
Chapter 5





September 6

Supermarine Aircraft Assembly Hall


In 1938 Supermarine was a small aircraft company. Nevertheless they had just won a Government contract for the development of a monoplane fighter that was to supplement the Hawker Hurricanes already in service. R.J. Mitchel, Supermarines Chief designer regarded the Hurricane as a piece of junk compared with what he had in mind, and he was already busy at work, despite still recovering from the cancer that had denied him entry into the failed 1937 AM 361140/3 Competition.Now when the Air Ministry had started yet another one he was finally well enough to go back to his work, at least when he was asked, and nobody had been able to convince him otherwise. When he had walked back into the hall of the small factory it had almost felt like coming home after a long holiday, and when he had entered his office he had felt the familiar rush of inspiration that had always driven him forward. This time he went back to an old, rejected design from 1931. The fighter had been rejected because of several issues, but mainly because of the rigid undercarriage, and that he would change. The plane would be of exemplary beauty, and Mitchel could already see it before his eyes, painted in standard RAF camouflage. His wife often said that he was just like a giddy schoolboy when he was at work dreaming up yet another aircraft, and at times like this he almost agreed with her.

Nevertheless, there was work to be done. The plans for his new plane needed to be ready for inspection by the director and the representative from the Air Ministry. Mitchel knew that he had to keep this date, because if the Air Ministry didn't buy the plane Supermarine would be finished, as the proposition from Vickers had been a one-time deal, and this competition was the company's last chance to survive ion the increasingly competitive Air Industry. He still ahd a lot of work to do. While he knew exactly what his plane would look like both the power plant and the name for the Aircraft were still up in the stars, although the past relationship between Supermarine and Rolls Royce could probably help solve this particular problem. He silently whistled the refrain of “Rule Britannia” and turned back to his desk where the plans for the Aircraft were already in the finishing phase, if only he could solve the engine problem. “I see that even cancer can't stop you from being you.” The voice ripped Mitchel out of his musings and he turned towards the door where he could see a tall, lanky man in the Uniform of a RAF Squadron leader standing in the doorway, sporting his trademark impish grin. Mitchel jumped up from his chair and all but yelled: “Harry Dashwood! How are you old boy and what are you doing here?” Dashwood smiled and said: “I was just showing little Jonny the place where I met his mother, and Supermarine was on the way home, and I would have reported here tomorrow any ways.” upon seeing Mitchel's confused expression he laughed again and said: “I am the liasion for your project. It appears that someone in the Air Ministry or close to those circles has seen your original proposition and pushed for additional support, and bang here I am.” Mitchel briefly wondered about who could have possibly seen the preliminary sketches he had sent to the Air Ministry just a week ago, but decided not to bother with it as he most likely would never find out anyway. He turned to his friend and asked: “And where is little John Dashwood?” Dashwood made a dismissive gesture and said: “His mother took him home with the car.” He took a look at the table where the plans for the new Aircraft were laid out and studied them closely. “In case they really build this it is going to be one hell of an aircraft.” Mitchel agreed and went on to explain the technical details as far as he knew them already. “One problem remains though,” he concluded “we still don't have a suitable engine, and the board still wants those blasted wooden two-bladed propellers!” Dashwood grimaced at the meddeling of the powers that be and said: “That's what I am here for my friend. Hopefully I can convince them. Now about this engine, any ideas?” Mitchel regretfully shook his head. “Nothing definitive yet, but Rolls Royce is working on a new one, and I've decided to model the plane around the expected specifications.” Dashwood was surprised, as this wasn't really like his old Friend. Mitchel saw his surprised expression. “Normally I don't do something like that, but if I can't give the chaps from the Air Ministry something when they arrive here on the 22nd Supermarine is history and I have to explain to my wife why I am out of a job and have to sell the house.” he said, wincing at the prospect. As if on cue the telephone on his desk rang and Mitchel rushed to answer it. Dashwood could see how Mitchel's face went from the thoughtful, worried state it had been in through hopeful to genuinely pleased within a minute, and when the call ended Mitchel's mood had obviously improved considerably. “Praise the fine folks at Rolls Royce. We have our engine. The plane will be powered by a Rolls Royce Merlin II.”

The two men then went about the task of finishing the sketches so that actual work in realising the aircraft could begin. When they finally decided to call it a day it was already dark outside and lacking a car both decided to stay at the factory for the night, deciding not to wake their better halves who would be angered enough in the morning as they had both forgotten to call in to say that they would work late. They settled for a few glasses of Brandy from Mitchel's secret reservoir and sat down at a small platform overlooking the now silent hall. “Mitchel, I know that this plane is your company's last chance, but what makes you so sure that the Air Ministry and the RAF will buy it? If they asked me they would of course, but still, what are you going to do if they don't?” “The have to. Mitchel answered... “They simply have to...”


[Game effects: none yet, but the Spit is in the first batch of research that will begin once the 1938 scenario starts on September 22. The Updates until then will be used to set the scene and to introduce new characters. I also just re-watched “Battle of Britain” for what must be the 20th time or so in the last two years alone and after it this was begging to be written.]



Also a few more comments would be nice.
 
Comments are allways nice.
Unless they are very mean. :D

Spitfires?
How surprising. :rolleyes:

They have to buy it?
What if they don't take it?
Sell the prints to germans?
 
a whole update focused on the spitfire? sweet.

my aar is rather comment - dry at the moment too, its a bit annoying. though you are much more popular and viewed here than me, for obvious reasons.
 
Krediax As of yet they are not even negotiating, just some informal talks that will begin soon, probably even in the next few updates. It will take von Ribbentrop at least a day to get to moscow.

Enewald I love the Spitfire, I can't help it. Of course they'll buy it.

In this TL Mitchel decided that his health was more important than his work and did not submit the plans in time and the competition was therefore extended lacking a satisfactory proposal. Vickers also decided to withdraw its proposal to buy Supermarine and the Company has now pushed its last cash into developing the Spitfire in the desperate hope that the Air Ministry and the RAF will like it.

BritishImperial I will try to make similar updates, only to kill time when the main characters are en route to somewhere etc.


EDIT: Argh. We sucked royally in our match against croatia..... :mad: I gues I'm going to watch Battle of Britain again, because watching anyone bashing Nazis always lifts my mood.
 
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El Pip said:
I believe the argument is that people were playing football in a recognisable form at least two centuries before anyone in the US decided to play 'Girls Rugby' (American football) that sport has the best claim to the name.

Edit; And that's just base on the first written records from the 1600s, undoubtedly it was played before that. The US version had to wait for suitably cheap and light body armour to be available. :p

I think we've earned the right to be pricks and spite the rest of the world
(Trying to clean up you guy's messes from colonialism and what not).

I'll stop now seeming how outnumbered I am and to put attention back on this aar.
 
GoforitPanzer said:
Sounds very good.

If you need any help cheering; the Netherlands just trounced France, the same way they completely beat up Italy!

never mind me...


Huzzzaaaa! :D
 
Chapter 6


September 7

Chartwell Manor

Athony Eden paced around the room with a mixture of apprehension and impatience. Once again he was waiting to be called in for a talk, but this time one he looked forward to, at least in a way. The man he was waiting to speak to was most likely his next boss, however much Chamberlain's faction in the party tried to deny it, and Eden had therefore taken semi-legal actions and had supplied the man with inside information such as the proposed new plan for Fighter Command. Now he had been summoned to Chartwell without any idea why and was also forced to wait in the anteroom of the Office. “Say Thompson,” he asked the main guarding the door, “ do you have any Idea why the old man wants to see me at this ungodly hour?” With a quick glance on his wristwatch Thompson answered: “No, Sir, he hasn't todl me, only to summon you at best speed.” Eden nodded in acknowledgement and continued to to pace the room, much to Thompson's annoyance, who also had to endure similar habits with his boss when he was agitated. Much to his relief the voice from the room behind the door he was guarding yelled: “Send him in Thopmson!” Thompson did has he was told and opened the door for Eden who quickly stepped inside.

The air inside the room was thick with the smoke of the countless cigars consumed during the last night, the windows closed because of the torrential rain outside. Eden could not see the main sitting in the swivel chair behind the desk as it was turned to face the window but he knew who was sitting there of course. “You wanted to see me, Sir?” he said to announce his presence. “Ah yes Anthony,” the other man answered. The chair turned around and Eden looked into the face of Winston Spencer Churchill. Churchill was wearing his customary suit and seemed perfectly normal, but Eden, knowing Churchill better than most of the other members of the Shadow Cabinet could see the little signs of fatigue, wear and tear, such as the wrinkled shirt and the shorter than usual cigar stub. Churchill however did not show these signs openly and went straight down to business. “Anthony, sit down.” he waited for Eden to take his usual seat and continued. “I have read through that report from your French contact. Does the foreign office have anything else on that matter?” “Not that I know of. Sir, you must remember that I am no longer the sitting foreign secretary, I no longer get everything. However I have heard rumblings that the Secret Intelligence Service* might be close to uncovering something, but as I said these are only rumblings. I've talked with Sinclair, but I couldn't get much out of him, he stonewalled after accidentally admitting that Station C in Prague was essentially shut down. From what I gather most of our contacts there either slipped off the face of the earth or were pulled in. Our Embassy there is closely watched, but other than that we're simply cut off.” Churchill nodded. He stood up and walked over to the small cabinet and lit another Cigar. “Care for some of this rather disappointing brandy?” Eden shook his head, and Churchill sat back down, quietly puffing his cigar. While others might view this as indifference to his compatriots Eden could again fall back upon his unusually good knowledge about the man and knew that he was in deep thought. “What has the Prime Minister said about all this?” Eden made a face that was a mixture of disgust and exhaustion. “I talked with him two days ago. His reaction was and I quote: ' The Czechs are only doing this to blackmail us into helping them.' end quote. I even showed him the transcript of my conversation with the French Ambassador, but he again showed to interest, insisting that this was all a plot, either by the Czechs or by the Germans to force our hand.” Eden paused to give Churchill the possibility to process the information. “On the matter of the German/Soviet alliance however he saw the danger, but again refused to allow even the possibility that both matters are connected. I think that he fears that a too strong reaction in the Czech matter will force the Germans and the Soviets into following through with the other.”

Churchill immediately yelled: “That does not make any sense at all!” He then lowered his voice. “How is the PM going to announce this to the public, to Parliament?” Eden hesitated and Churchill knew that he was not going to like what came next. “Not at all. He wants to keep the Czech matter under wraps as long as possible. He 'advised' me not to speak about it to anyone and to feign non-knowledge if asked about it.” Churchill pondered this quietly, weighing his outrage over the sheer idiocy of Chamberlain's decisions against the probable political pay-off if he played this correctly. This whole mess could probably be used to his own and to Britain's advantage. He decided to do nothing at the moment, as he too wanted this to be kept out of the public eye for the time being and not only to further his own political agenda. Unlike Chamberlain he believed that Eden's first evaluation had hit the mark, and if this was released now the Germans might abandon the plan entirely and follow another route to war. The whole affair was scary and held a huge potential danger for both Britain and France, and if a premature disclosure spooked the German into acting before Britain was adequatly prepared then the issue was very much in doubt, even more then when perparations had been made. 'No.' he thought ' better let things run along for now, and act when the time is right and we have a chance to actually succeed.' Churchill only feared that Chamberlain might not act at all, hoping that appeasing the two dictators or simply doing nothing might avert a war. Winston Churchill did not want war any more than the next man, but he also knew that there were times when said man had to stand up for its principles and defend them, himself and his home with the rifle in the hand. The same thing went for Britain as well, only that Britain would use the British Army, the Royal Air Force and the Royal Navy to defend liberty.

He faced Eden again. “We shall keep this to ourselves as well.” Eden was taken aback, but when Churchill explained his reasoning Eden was forced to agree, however he despised it. He was still a man of relative integrity and believed that there were certain things a Gentlemen just did not do, but many years in politics had taught him that opportunism was a necessary for success. The Germans called this “Realpolitik” and Eden wished that the English language had its own word. Eden believed that this man would be a much better PM than Chamberlain could ever be, especially if he had a decent Home Secretary, but to do this he had to.. Eden was interrupted by Churchill's voice. “But we shall not sit still. Anthony, I want you to assure your French contacts that we are watching the Situation, even though our official reaction might be somewhat indifferent. Sinclair still owes me, and I think I might be able to acquire what the SIS has on this.” They exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes, btu a few minutes later Eden left and quickly dashed through the pouring rain back to his car, but was still soaked to the bone when he sat down in the back-seat. On the long drive to the train station Eden once more contemplated the relation between weather and bad news, hoping that everything would clear up soon. But inwardly he feared that things would get very very dark before the sun shone again, and this darkness had the power to make the sun finally set over the British Empire.



[Game effects: None yet, but Eden will get the Foreign Office if Churchill ever makes it to No. 10. There will be perhaps one or two more stage-settting updates then I will jump forward to the actual game.]






*popularly known as MI6. I have watched too many James Bond films in the last weeks, so expect cameos by characters and other references. When I wrote the scene where we get to see Winston for the first time I pictured him stroking a white cat while slowly turning around. My mind is weak.
 
you're comparing churchill to blofeld? heh. though the image of the figure in a chair shrouded in smoke is a dramatic one.
 
BritishImperial Only a bit. Unlike Blofeld Winston does not want to destroy humanity.

GoforitPanzer I saw this 13-part documentary about him a while back and just had to include him.

Enewald I fear Mr. Bond is not even invented yet, though his creator might actually make an appearance some day.

And there will be war, rest assured, it still is a bit out though.
 
Now before I write and post the next update either very very late today or tomorrow I need to explain something. This is the Vanilla 1938 scenario with some obvious mods. I started the game on September 1 but did not do anything until September 11 ( why I wrote 22 in that update is beyond me). Now as previously mentoined there will be perhaps one or two more updates setting the stage, then a small jump and then the story will start for good.
 
trekaddict said:
I fear Mr. Bond is not even invented yet, though his creator might actually make an appearance some day.
There's always Chuck Norris. :rofl:
 
Chapter 7






September 8

HMS Rodney, Home Fleet Flagship, Scapa Flow Anchorage


“ A fine ship indeed.” Grand Admiral Sir Roger Blackhouse, Commander of Home Fleet and simultaneously First Sea Lord thought wile briskly walking through the bowels of his flagship, intending to take the Fleet out for its Autumn manoeuvre near the Dogger Bank. Rodney was already under way, leading the long line of Battleships and assorted Cruisers and Destroyers out of the base area. Blackhouse was glad that he had convinced the First Lord of the Admiralty to send the Glorious-Class Aircraft Carriers to the Med. He believed in Battleships, as there was no way that a Aircraft could to any significant damage to an under way and maneuvering Battleship. He had not been able to stop Carrier Production alltogether though, as the Navy still was outfitting Force A at Sunderland Naval Base, but Blackhouse was sure that he and his Battleships could destroy any Naval Opposition without Andy Cunningham and his toys. The exercise he was currently heading towards was intended to prove this beyond doubt, and if things went his way he would get more than the five of the new King George V-Class Battleships that would be laid down later in the month.

“Open Sea Buoy coming up, Sir.” the Captain in charge of HMS Rodney said. Blackhouse nodded his head in acknowledgement and stepped out on the bridge wing. Around and behind the ship he could see the rest of Home Fleet in all its glory, with the other Battelships forming a Great Line, reminding him if the time in the Great War when he had sortied with the Grand Fleet to engage the Kaisers High Seas Fleet in battle, and if he read things correctly it was heading towards a second round. Blackhouse did not want this war, but if it came to the worst he was sure that he could defeat the puny little German fleet on his own, even without ths ships from Reserve Fleet now sent to the Med as well. The Homefleet was structured around a strong nucleus of Battles, namely HMS Rodney, HMS Nelson, HMS Royal Oak, HMS Royal Souvereign and HMS Ramilies. This force was supplemented by the three Battlecruisers, among them the mighty Hood, and escorted by a strong screen of Destroyers and Light Crusiers. Despite all this might one thing was nagging Blackhouse in the back of his head. None of his escorts had been laid down later than the mid 1920s with some of the Destroyers leftovers from the Great War. The new Southampton Class crusiers that had originally been slated to replace his oldest escorts had all been rerouted to Force A and now he was stuck with what he ahd for the time beeing. Even the First Lord of the Admiralty could do little when the King, the First Sea Lord, the Prime Minister and also Fleet Street were against him and he had been forced to concede the point. The Kings personal intervention had also saved the concept of Force A a while back when Blackhouse had tried to almost blackmail the PM into shutting it down by threatening to resign. Somehow King George VI had gotten wind of this and asked both sides to reconsider. Constitutional Monarchy or not when a British Royal Navy Officer got an order from the King he by god followed it.

So Cunningham was allowed to keep his toys and Blackhouse had to make do with outdated ships that would still make a quick job of the small Kriegsmarine in perhaps one or two decisive engagements. It would be at least a day until the exercise area was reached but Blackhouse had never been a man who liked to waste time and as soon as all fo the fleet ahd cleared the Open Sea Buoy he ordered: “Signals, all ships, reads as follows: Exercise 'Jubilee' begins. Form Line of Battle and follow me.” The Sublieutenant dashed off and soon he could see the Battleships form into the great Line of Battle that had dominated Naval Warfare for so long. The cruisers fanned out and formed the van that was supposed to both screen the LoB from the enemy's light forces and provide scouting support for the Battleships. The CL squadrons were the eyes and ears of the fleet and although service on these ships might not be as glorious it was no less important. Blackhouse started the first part of the fleet formation manoeuvres he had agreed upon with the commanders of his Scouting Groups. And, right on cue a message was handed to him. “First Scouting reports unknown ships just below the horizon, bearing 270°, course 330.” Blackhouse nodded and ordered: “Send back: Ascertain identity of unknowns and report back. If enemy you are not to engage. Shadow until LoB arrives.”

By the end of the day a enemy fleet about the size of the German Fleet at Jutland had been 'destroyed' with only a Light Cruiser lost and light to heavy damage on three Battleships, all in all a satisfactory outcome. More unannounced exercises would be held on the individual ships while the Fleet made a huge circle all throughout the North Sea that took it almost into German territorial waters. It was a dangerous game that would certainly spark protests from the Germans but they could not do anything more. After all Britannia ruled the waves, and the North Sea was full of them.

"Sir, RDF surface plot shows three small echos coming up from 183°." Blackhouse answered: "Order 2nd Scouting to investigate. Tell them that this is not part of the exercise. If they are Germans then show them what a formation of British Cruisers can do." "Ah yes, Sir." the Lieutenant answered with a smile on his face and once more went to the radio room.


September 8

17:31 o'clock Berlin time

aboard KMS Deutschland, Southeastern North Sea

Rear Admiral Lütjens was standing aboard the Bridge of the Heavy Cruiser and was fuming. Not only had he been spotted by the English before he had even known they were there, but they ahd also personally insulted them when their Light Cruisers had virtually danced in circles around his small Squadron, forcing him to change course away from what he presumed to be their Main Body. Now he was steaming southwest, tail between his legs ang hoping that the English had gone on to do their own thing, hopefully ignoring him and his three ships, the Deutschland and the two Light Cruisers KMS Stuttgart and KMS Köln. They were on their way to a port visit in the Nationalist part of spain, at least officially but in reality the ships were transporting additional supplies and men for the Condor Legion. Lütjens had hoped that he could sneak past the Tommies undetected but this was obviously not to be. "Come course 189° and increase to best speed." he ordered, wanting to get away from ths humiliation as soon as possible. The rising fog certainly did help him in that and soon the English Cruisers were falling behind, changing course probably to rejoin the rest of whatever fleet they had out there. Suddenly his lookout screamed: "English formation up ahead Herr Admiral!" Lütjens looked forward and if his jaw could have fallen off it would have. Before him a long row of English Battleships cleared the mist, casually ignoring his suddenly puny looking little fleet, and all he did was watch breathlessly as the steel behemoths moved past without even acknowledging his presence, making him feel weak and insingnificant at the same time.


[Game Effects: Little. I was bored and took Homefleet for a ride in the North Sea, where I indeed saw a three-ship German Squadron heading for the channel. I also moved all my Aircraft Carriers to the med. All new CV's will join Force A which is to become my primary Battlefleet someday.]
 
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Enewald said:
hah, Britannia may rule the waves for now, bot for how long... the german machines are at full speed... and the germans are not happy. :D

Well, as long as I am the Puppet Master behind her a certain ammount of IC will always be reserved for the Navy. Roleplaying you see. The RL Germans sucked even more than the AI in building fleets from scratch, but I have a headstart in both numbers of ships and technology.
 
nice. i like naval updates, especially by you. looking forward to seeing you describe the real battles :D

can i offer a very pedantic and picky criticism? thanks: the british may pronounce it 'leftenant' but contrary to what cod4 and probably most americans would have you believe, we still spell it the other 'lieutenant' way. i'm sorry to pick but it gets on my nerves.