In terms of story, if you manage to infiltrate all the way to certain islands in the Carribean... A mad submarine war perhaps?
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“This is quite the war, isn’t it?”
“You’ve got that right, Julian” Farragut sighed unnoticeably “I wonder if it will ever stop”
“What?”
“The Channel Pact. All the fighting, the killing. It’s been going on for five years now. America is putting everything she’s got into the fight, millions of men are being drafted into the army, but to what avail?”
“It has to end someday Robert. It just has to.”
“I’m not sure if I believe in that anymore”
“These guys, these... dictators, Van Geyte and De Nil. What do you think about them?”
“I’m not sure what to think about them. Foremost, the are the enemy, and we have to defeat them. But what I think...”
“They don’t seem like lunatics to me”
“I don’t think they are either. They are half brilliant, half deluded, and half something altogether... different”
“We are in position sir”
The captain looked up “Signal to all ships, wait for green light”
Simultanously, the radioman pushed a button, and everyone in the control room began watching a board of green lights with great concentration. One by one, the little green bulbs activated, signaling that the fleet was ready. They were blind, yet they could all see.
“Open tubes six and seven”
“Aye Cap’n” the weapons specialist flicked a few switches, and the men could distinctly hear the mechanical sound of hatches opening below the hull.
They were silent, ghosts in the night. Red and blue, us and them
“Torpedoes armed”
“Wait for it”
The captain took a small golden chronometer from his breast pocket, imprinted with the symbol of the Kriegsmarine. Calmly, the men waited. Outside the hull the men could unmistakeably hear the crackling sound of thunder. After what seemed to be an eternity, the captain looked up
“Fire all torpedoes”
The weapons specialist nodded and pushed two buttons “Torpedoes fired”. Allmost simultaneously, the radioman began emitting orders to go hot. “Engage, engage”
One by one, the active green lights on the board began switching colour, as more and more red lights flickered up.
Red was not an appriopriate colour. They were black, silent, deadly.
The captain pressed his chronometer which began ticking.
“Impact in 20”
“Do you miss home, Robert?”
“Sometimes”
“Sometimes?”
“Yeah, I do. But I have a job to do here, Julian. Remember that, we’re here to defend our country. The USN, our first line of defence”
“It seems so... pointless, most of the time. Take the IJN for example. They fought the British for what, three years? They’re all gone now, Japan was bombed flat and defeated. All those dead for nothing.”
“That’s why we can’t give up. We can’t let the same thing happen to America.”
“I guess. Did you get the letter from dad, by the way?”
The Grand Admiral smiled
“Yeah. Looks like he’s still waging his own private war againt the moles plucking his fields bare.”
“Yeah, last thing I heard was that he tried to take them all down by camping out in the field for a week with nothing but a rifle, ammunition and a shovel.”
“He’s still the old one allright”
“Good ol’ pops” The men laughed, amused at the thought of their father going on another typical hotheaded adventure of his.
“But give me a minute here, someone is pulling my shoulder”
Julian moved away from the phone as Robert could hear murmurs in the distance, mixing with the sound of raindrops ticking on glass.
“What do you mean sonar is showing strange things?”
“I don’t know sir, it just...” more murmurs
“Ah, just check it out will you?”
Julian returned to the phone “Sorry for that. Radar is picking up some strange things here. Seems to me that the damn app-” The line shut down
Within a split second, Robert’s bridge was filled with a furiously bright yellow light, knocking many of the staff off their feet in amazement, as a massive shockwave ripped through the ship
“Holy SHIT!”
“What happened!?” Robert quickly jumped up, knocking over most of the radio apparatus in the process, and move to the bridge window looking out towards the USS Virginia.
The fleet was clearly visible now. The USS Virginia had formed into a magnificent blazing torch, lighting up the surroundings for miles ahead. Farragut tried to speak, but the air had left his lungs, as he put his hand on the glass, staring at the ship his brother was on.
“Julian?”
The ship answered him. With a second, volatile explosion, the carriers deck of the USS Virginia snapped in half, as the ammunitions and fuel depots burst, shattering the carrier’s hull into dozens of fragments, flying skyhigh. With the horrible sound of twisting metal the ship finally broke in two halves, each topsizing and sinking into the sea slowly.
Farragut’s men responded sooner than he did
“SUBMARINES! SOUND THE ALARM!!”
Creaking and distorted, the alarms came to life, sounding off a deathly ensemble as the fleet responded.
“ALL MEN! TO THE DEPTH CHARGES! NOW! NOW! NOW!”
The fleet’s destroyer’s surged ahead, attempting to lcoate the submarines that had to be close by, their range wasn’t too great in this weather. But their search was futile, and the storm hid the submarines from sight.
“SIR! SNAP OUT OF IT!” Robert’s second-in-cammed grabbed the Admiral by the shoulders and began shaking him heavily, and Farragut woke up from his paralysis
“Julian... they killed my brother”
“NO TIME FOR THAT NOW, WE HAVE TO RUN! COME SIR!”
Before Farragut knew it, his second-in-command was pulling him through endless corridors, as panicking sailors attempted to get to battle stations. That’s when the other torpedoes hit
The shockwaves came from all around them, as if the seas themselves were drilling a way through the hull. The Republic was hit in the bow, shredding a large part of ballast, as the ship began to lean to the left.
“OH GOD! WE’RE SINKING!”
Behind them, more massive explosions burst forth from the darkness as other American carriers were hit. Debris and wrought steel were flung in all directions. Parts of an airwing were swiped off a carrier deck by a volatile explosion, hitting a destroyer escorting the ship. Blind, the destroyer lost control of it’s rudder, rolling to the side and crashing into the carrier as another series of massive explosions sounded. All around them, the night sky lit up as the downpour was far from sufficient to put out the massive fires that had erupted on the carriers. The waves rocked the destabilized carriers, as many began to capseize, sailors sliding off the decks helplessly as rescue boats scrambled to pick up the survivors. A part of the fleet had detached in panick, attempting to get away, but even they had come under heavy fire, explosions hitting their flanks left and right as torpedoes rained from below. It was over, Farragut thought. And he was right: Two minutes after the men reached the carrier deck, a fire ignited the ammunitions room of the USS Republic, tearing the bridge to shreds. As the lower decks imploded under the enormous pressure, the carrier’s nose slowly dove down and began it’s descent into the vast darkness of the ice-cold Atlantic Ocean.
“Impact”
The captain stopped his chronometer and looked at the men. He did not unfold his periscope, he didn’t need to.
“It is done. Kurt?”
“Yes?”
“Contact the fleet. Hunt all survivors down. Spare none.”
“Yes sir.”
Black and blue, us and them. The captain looked at the marking on the inside of the control room “U-3025”. The Elektroboot, Germany’s new, secret weapon.
Their massive defeat in the Gibbs Fracture deeply shocked the population of America, while military strategists began to realize that advanced German submarine technology would rapidly become a great hazard for the USN, as espionage reports showed that Germany was indeed working on the construction of a ballistic-capable Uboat. But nothing would shock the nation more than the events set to happen on the 1st of January, 1945...
“You’ve got that right, Julian” Farragut sighed unnoticeably “I wonder if it will ever stop”
“What?”
“The Channel Pact. All the fighting, the killing. It’s been going on for five years now. America is putting everything she’s got into the fight, millions of men are being drafted into the army, but to what avail?”
“It has to end someday Robert. It just has to.”
“I’m not sure if I believe in that anymore”
“These guys, these... dictators, Van Geyte and De Nil. What do you think about them?”
“I’m not sure what to think about them. Foremost, the are the enemy, and we have to defeat them. But what I think...”
“They don’t seem like lunatics to me”
“I don’t think they are either. They are half brilliant, half deluded, and half something altogether... different”
“We are in position sir”
The captain looked up “Signal to all ships, wait for green light”
Simultanously, the radioman pushed a button, and everyone in the control room began watching a board of green lights with great concentration. One by one, the little green bulbs activated, signaling that the fleet was ready. They were blind, yet they could all see.
“Open tubes six and seven”
“Aye Cap’n” the weapons specialist flicked a few switches, and the men could distinctly hear the mechanical sound of hatches opening below the hull.
They were silent, ghosts in the night. Red and blue, us and them
“Torpedoes armed”
“Wait for it”
The captain took a small golden chronometer from his breast pocket, imprinted with the symbol of the Kriegsmarine. Calmly, the men waited. Outside the hull the men could unmistakeably hear the crackling sound of thunder. After what seemed to be an eternity, the captain looked up
“Fire all torpedoes”
The weapons specialist nodded and pushed two buttons “Torpedoes fired”. Allmost simultaneously, the radioman began emitting orders to go hot. “Engage, engage”
One by one, the active green lights on the board began switching colour, as more and more red lights flickered up.
Red was not an appriopriate colour. They were black, silent, deadly.
The captain pressed his chronometer which began ticking.
“Impact in 20”
“Do you miss home, Robert?”
“Sometimes”
“Sometimes?”
“Yeah, I do. But I have a job to do here, Julian. Remember that, we’re here to defend our country. The USN, our first line of defence”
“It seems so... pointless, most of the time. Take the IJN for example. They fought the British for what, three years? They’re all gone now, Japan was bombed flat and defeated. All those dead for nothing.”
“That’s why we can’t give up. We can’t let the same thing happen to America.”
“I guess. Did you get the letter from dad, by the way?”
The Grand Admiral smiled
“Yeah. Looks like he’s still waging his own private war againt the moles plucking his fields bare.”
“Yeah, last thing I heard was that he tried to take them all down by camping out in the field for a week with nothing but a rifle, ammunition and a shovel.”
“He’s still the old one allright”
“Good ol’ pops” The men laughed, amused at the thought of their father going on another typical hotheaded adventure of his.
“But give me a minute here, someone is pulling my shoulder”
Julian moved away from the phone as Robert could hear murmurs in the distance, mixing with the sound of raindrops ticking on glass.
“What do you mean sonar is showing strange things?”
“I don’t know sir, it just...” more murmurs
“Ah, just check it out will you?”
Julian returned to the phone “Sorry for that. Radar is picking up some strange things here. Seems to me that the damn app-” The line shut down
Within a split second, Robert’s bridge was filled with a furiously bright yellow light, knocking many of the staff off their feet in amazement, as a massive shockwave ripped through the ship
“Holy SHIT!”
“What happened!?” Robert quickly jumped up, knocking over most of the radio apparatus in the process, and move to the bridge window looking out towards the USS Virginia.
The fleet was clearly visible now. The USS Virginia had formed into a magnificent blazing torch, lighting up the surroundings for miles ahead. Farragut tried to speak, but the air had left his lungs, as he put his hand on the glass, staring at the ship his brother was on.
“Julian?”
The ship answered him. With a second, volatile explosion, the carriers deck of the USS Virginia snapped in half, as the ammunitions and fuel depots burst, shattering the carrier’s hull into dozens of fragments, flying skyhigh. With the horrible sound of twisting metal the ship finally broke in two halves, each topsizing and sinking into the sea slowly.
Farragut’s men responded sooner than he did
“SUBMARINES! SOUND THE ALARM!!”
Creaking and distorted, the alarms came to life, sounding off a deathly ensemble as the fleet responded.
“ALL MEN! TO THE DEPTH CHARGES! NOW! NOW! NOW!”
The fleet’s destroyer’s surged ahead, attempting to lcoate the submarines that had to be close by, their range wasn’t too great in this weather. But their search was futile, and the storm hid the submarines from sight.
“SIR! SNAP OUT OF IT!” Robert’s second-in-cammed grabbed the Admiral by the shoulders and began shaking him heavily, and Farragut woke up from his paralysis
“Julian... they killed my brother”
“NO TIME FOR THAT NOW, WE HAVE TO RUN! COME SIR!”
Before Farragut knew it, his second-in-command was pulling him through endless corridors, as panicking sailors attempted to get to battle stations. That’s when the other torpedoes hit
The shockwaves came from all around them, as if the seas themselves were drilling a way through the hull. The Republic was hit in the bow, shredding a large part of ballast, as the ship began to lean to the left.
“OH GOD! WE’RE SINKING!”
Behind them, more massive explosions burst forth from the darkness as other American carriers were hit. Debris and wrought steel were flung in all directions. Parts of an airwing were swiped off a carrier deck by a volatile explosion, hitting a destroyer escorting the ship. Blind, the destroyer lost control of it’s rudder, rolling to the side and crashing into the carrier as another series of massive explosions sounded. All around them, the night sky lit up as the downpour was far from sufficient to put out the massive fires that had erupted on the carriers. The waves rocked the destabilized carriers, as many began to capseize, sailors sliding off the decks helplessly as rescue boats scrambled to pick up the survivors. A part of the fleet had detached in panick, attempting to get away, but even they had come under heavy fire, explosions hitting their flanks left and right as torpedoes rained from below. It was over, Farragut thought. And he was right: Two minutes after the men reached the carrier deck, a fire ignited the ammunitions room of the USS Republic, tearing the bridge to shreds. As the lower decks imploded under the enormous pressure, the carrier’s nose slowly dove down and began it’s descent into the vast darkness of the ice-cold Atlantic Ocean.
“Impact”
The captain stopped his chronometer and looked at the men. He did not unfold his periscope, he didn’t need to.
“It is done. Kurt?”
“Yes?”
“Contact the fleet. Hunt all survivors down. Spare none.”
“Yes sir.”
Black and blue, us and them. The captain looked at the marking on the inside of the control room “U-3025”. The Elektroboot, Germany’s new, secret weapon.
Their massive defeat in the Gibbs Fracture deeply shocked the population of America, while military strategists began to realize that advanced German submarine technology would rapidly become a great hazard for the USN, as espionage reports showed that Germany was indeed working on the construction of a ballistic-capable Uboat. But nothing would shock the nation more than the events set to happen on the 1st of January, 1945...
Oh no! A cliffhanger! 
What happens next? Does Democracy come back to win the day? (I wish!)
edit: Oh, I think I know. If I recall the preview correctly, it was mentioned in the video..but I won't say more
What happens next? Does Democracy come back to win the day? (I wish!)
edit: Oh, I think I know. If I recall the preview correctly, it was mentioned in the video..but I won't say more
Last edited:
So many millions of men and women in the armed forces, when the USA just need a phone to call to Berlin and say: "we give up"...
USN puts everything on one card making a corridor across the Atlantic to ship troops to Iberia. And then.... Uncle Sam wins the day once again.
awesome update
*applauds standing up*
/Krogzar
(oh and exactly why I read this stuff)
*applauds standing up*
/Krogzar
(oh and exactly why I read this stuff)
So this was a huge sub stack taking down four CVs and a BB? Not bad, not bad at all.
And in Doomsday, at that.
Firestorm said:
It'll take a while till we get there, though
. Atm our fleets are beaten, but still strong and our supply convoys are running at 100%. That, and I spy with my little eye an isolated continent starting with Au... BRITISH LANDS, BELONGING TO THE BRITISH EMPIRE! TO WAR!And, on that matter
Later on we will add some convo screens into our comments (not in the official posts) to chronicle some of the hilarious stuff we say while playing
. Note that these chat logs are in fact 'fabricated', since we play over LAN we can just talk to eachother, making chatting a little irrelevant. So, we basically put some parts of our conversations during playing into chat convos to post aftewards.Cheers,
-Vincent
Are your German subs still on Sealane Interdiction, or have you changed doctrine trees?
Also the fact that two Belgians would talk English to eachother is kind of questionable.
The following events took place January 1st, 1945, Springwood, USA
Led by hand gestures and silent nods, the men took their positions. The circumstances weren’t good. They were perfect. Robert Mayne, probably one of the most legendary soldiers to fight in the Second World War, couldn’t help but grin as he loaded his rifle and waited, patiently. It couldn’t be long now.
They were commando’s. Elites. Soldier’s of the British Empire. The 7th Ironsides. Officially erected by Prime Minister Oswald Mosley himself during the Colonial Wars, the 7th Regiment was a special branch of the SAS, under direct jurisdiction of the Prime Minister of the British Empire, and had performed countless assassinations, infiltrations and sabotage missions. Later named after the undefeatable army of Cromwell in the first English Civil War, the ‘Ironsides’, as they would become known, were battle-hardened veterans, expert infiltrants that were feared throughout the world. Even here, in the heart of the United States themselves, they had penetrated. Months ago, the men had been covertly dropped by a lightweight paraglider just south of New York, with only one order: Assassinate Franklin Roosevelt, President of the United States of America. But it had been a difficult task: Roosevelt rarely left the protection of the White House, and the Ironsides had little to no info about his whereabouts. Untill tonight.
“Package in sight.”
“Confirmed. Dig in and wait for further instructions”
“Aye sir”
From the corner of his eye, Mayne could see a car approaching down the long and bending road. Roosevelt had come home. Mayne unlocked his weapon. This one wouldn’t get away, not like Churchill did years earlier. He grabbed his radio and whispered.
“What’s the count guys?”
After a short silence, the radio crackled to life, two voices sounding through the metallic speaker
“Sir, from what I can see, Roosevelt and four suits.”
“Wahey, Maloney, you can count!? I am pleasantly surprised.”
The numb sound of a rifle butt hitting a head sounded from the speaker.
“Aw!”
“Got any more bright input Richards?”
“Hey, let me tell you something here Malo...”
“Shut it, both of you” Mayne was annoyed by the constant bickering between his engineer and his medic.
“The next thing I want to hear from you are the sounds of rifles firing. One bullet, one kill. Capiche?”
“Aye sir”
“Aye sir” Richards confirmed.
“Over and out”
Mayne turned the radio off. Showtime.
As his car drove up to the house, Franklin D. Roosevelt pondered about how he would win this war. There was a top American summit coming next week, and South-America might just be the last possible allies they had. During this blasted winter, German submarines prowled the coasts of North-America, and without effective ASW fleets in place, they proved a serious problem in the Atlantic war. Roosevelt hoped that some time in Springwood, his homestead, would allow him to calm and plot a course for America in the Second World War.
“Allmost there, Mr. President”
Roosevelt looked at his watch. 7:00 PM, January 1945. Six years. He found it hard to believe. The war had already lasted six years, and it was far from over. In silence, he damned the Channel Pact and his enemies, Van Geyte and De Nil, deranged madmen hoping to reshape the balance of powers. Roosevelt believed they were deluded fools, and nothing more. America would win the war, eventually. But it would be a long, hard struggle.
The car stopped, and slowly Roosevelts suited bodyguards exited and surrounded the vehicle, observing all angles, their hands alertly resting on the pistols inside their pockets.
On the front porch of his house Roosevelt saw a sight he had missed: His wife and children. After a long period in the White House, he finally had some time to spend with his family. Roosevelt unlocked the car door, and stepped out. The outside air felt cold but oddly vivid, as if the end of winter was already near. Franklin looked at his wife and spread his arms
“Eleanor.”
Smiling, she left the children standing on the front porch and walked towards her husband. Roosevelt beamed, and on the 1st of January 1945, at exactly 7:04 PM local time; was shot in the head right before embracing his wife outisde his house at Springwood. The President of America collapsed, assinated by a marksman shot from the leader of an Ironsides squad, Robert Mayne
Before the guards even had a chance at taking their pistols, three more headshots were administered by the Ironsides. As the president and his guards fell on the ground lifeless, Eleanor Roosevelt looked up with an expression of frozen terror. Less than four metres away, the commando's rose from the bushes, completely covered in branches and camouflage paint. Mayne looked at the woman, but felt pity nor remorse. But, standing eye to eye with the woman he had just made a widow, he felt like he had to say something. He collected himself, coughed and spoke to her
“Miss, erm... war never changes”
What else could he say?
Ironsides never fought at long range, and never used sniper rifles. ‘Go in close, go in unseen’ was their motto. They never missed.
The three other members of Mayne’s squad had joined their commander.
“Sir, do you want me to... fix them?” Richards lifted his rifle at the petrified woman and children, but Mayne grabbed it and pushed it back down.
“No. They are unarmed, and they aren’t our objective.”
“Aye.”
Robert Mayne took one last look at Eleanor Roosevelt, and turned around
“Ironsides, let’s go.”
Without any further comment, the men walked off, leaving Eleanor Roosevelt and her children alone with the body of the guards and her husband, President of the United States of America.
The following events took place January 2nd, 1945, London, United Kingdom
“Sir, a special telegram came in for you”
the Grand Admiral looked up at his secretary, and accepted the piece of paper, which he unfolded and read with care. After pausing for a while to let the contents sink in, he instinctively reached for the phone and dialed Berlin.
“Van Geyte” the Field Marshall responded through the device
Excitedly, the Grand Admiral responded “Laurence, you better sit down”. With a grin, he continued “You’re going to love this”
And thus ends the life of democracy's great leader. Who will take his place? What course will America take in the years to follow? Only one thing is for sure
The European War might be over, but the Tale of Two Empires has only just begun...
(we're serious, we're far from done here. So, go grab some pizza and make yourself comfortable)
Find out more in the next installment of...
A sole-story update today, no pictures, but we advise you to read it as the contents are rather pivotal to the story from now on.
That is all, me and Laurence are going to spend the evening dashing around some Valve mods in multiplayer for our last days of sweet freedom
-Vincent
Led by hand gestures and silent nods, the men took their positions. The circumstances weren’t good. They were perfect. Robert Mayne, probably one of the most legendary soldiers to fight in the Second World War, couldn’t help but grin as he loaded his rifle and waited, patiently. It couldn’t be long now.
They were commando’s. Elites. Soldier’s of the British Empire. The 7th Ironsides. Officially erected by Prime Minister Oswald Mosley himself during the Colonial Wars, the 7th Regiment was a special branch of the SAS, under direct jurisdiction of the Prime Minister of the British Empire, and had performed countless assassinations, infiltrations and sabotage missions. Later named after the undefeatable army of Cromwell in the first English Civil War, the ‘Ironsides’, as they would become known, were battle-hardened veterans, expert infiltrants that were feared throughout the world. Even here, in the heart of the United States themselves, they had penetrated. Months ago, the men had been covertly dropped by a lightweight paraglider just south of New York, with only one order: Assassinate Franklin Roosevelt, President of the United States of America. But it had been a difficult task: Roosevelt rarely left the protection of the White House, and the Ironsides had little to no info about his whereabouts. Untill tonight.
“Package in sight.”
“Confirmed. Dig in and wait for further instructions”
“Aye sir”
From the corner of his eye, Mayne could see a car approaching down the long and bending road. Roosevelt had come home. Mayne unlocked his weapon. This one wouldn’t get away, not like Churchill did years earlier. He grabbed his radio and whispered.
“What’s the count guys?”
After a short silence, the radio crackled to life, two voices sounding through the metallic speaker
“Sir, from what I can see, Roosevelt and four suits.”
“Wahey, Maloney, you can count!? I am pleasantly surprised.”
The numb sound of a rifle butt hitting a head sounded from the speaker.
“Aw!”
“Got any more bright input Richards?”
“Hey, let me tell you something here Malo...”
“Shut it, both of you” Mayne was annoyed by the constant bickering between his engineer and his medic.
“The next thing I want to hear from you are the sounds of rifles firing. One bullet, one kill. Capiche?”
“Aye sir”
“Aye sir” Richards confirmed.
“Over and out”
Mayne turned the radio off. Showtime.
As his car drove up to the house, Franklin D. Roosevelt pondered about how he would win this war. There was a top American summit coming next week, and South-America might just be the last possible allies they had. During this blasted winter, German submarines prowled the coasts of North-America, and without effective ASW fleets in place, they proved a serious problem in the Atlantic war. Roosevelt hoped that some time in Springwood, his homestead, would allow him to calm and plot a course for America in the Second World War.
“Allmost there, Mr. President”
Roosevelt looked at his watch. 7:00 PM, January 1945. Six years. He found it hard to believe. The war had already lasted six years, and it was far from over. In silence, he damned the Channel Pact and his enemies, Van Geyte and De Nil, deranged madmen hoping to reshape the balance of powers. Roosevelt believed they were deluded fools, and nothing more. America would win the war, eventually. But it would be a long, hard struggle.
The car stopped, and slowly Roosevelts suited bodyguards exited and surrounded the vehicle, observing all angles, their hands alertly resting on the pistols inside their pockets.
On the front porch of his house Roosevelt saw a sight he had missed: His wife and children. After a long period in the White House, he finally had some time to spend with his family. Roosevelt unlocked the car door, and stepped out. The outside air felt cold but oddly vivid, as if the end of winter was already near. Franklin looked at his wife and spread his arms
“Eleanor.”
Smiling, she left the children standing on the front porch and walked towards her husband. Roosevelt beamed, and on the 1st of January 1945, at exactly 7:04 PM local time; was shot in the head right before embracing his wife outisde his house at Springwood. The President of America collapsed, assinated by a marksman shot from the leader of an Ironsides squad, Robert Mayne
Before the guards even had a chance at taking their pistols, three more headshots were administered by the Ironsides. As the president and his guards fell on the ground lifeless, Eleanor Roosevelt looked up with an expression of frozen terror. Less than four metres away, the commando's rose from the bushes, completely covered in branches and camouflage paint. Mayne looked at the woman, but felt pity nor remorse. But, standing eye to eye with the woman he had just made a widow, he felt like he had to say something. He collected himself, coughed and spoke to her
“Miss, erm... war never changes”
What else could he say?
Ironsides never fought at long range, and never used sniper rifles. ‘Go in close, go in unseen’ was their motto. They never missed.
The three other members of Mayne’s squad had joined their commander.
“Sir, do you want me to... fix them?” Richards lifted his rifle at the petrified woman and children, but Mayne grabbed it and pushed it back down.
“No. They are unarmed, and they aren’t our objective.”
“Aye.”
Robert Mayne took one last look at Eleanor Roosevelt, and turned around
“Ironsides, let’s go.”
Without any further comment, the men walked off, leaving Eleanor Roosevelt and her children alone with the body of the guards and her husband, President of the United States of America.
The following events took place January 2nd, 1945, London, United Kingdom
“Sir, a special telegram came in for you”
the Grand Admiral looked up at his secretary, and accepted the piece of paper, which he unfolded and read with care. After pausing for a while to let the contents sink in, he instinctively reached for the phone and dialed Berlin.
“Van Geyte” the Field Marshall responded through the device
Excitedly, the Grand Admiral responded “Laurence, you better sit down”. With a grin, he continued “You’re going to love this”
-----------------
And thus ends the life of democracy's great leader. Who will take his place? What course will America take in the years to follow? Only one thing is for sure
The European War might be over, but the Tale of Two Empires has only just begun...
(we're serious, we're far from done here. So, go grab some pizza and make yourself comfortable)
Find out more in the next installment of...
The Channel Pact
A tale of Two Empires
A tale of Two Empires
A sole-story update today, no pictures, but we advise you to read it as the contents are rather pivotal to the story from now on.
That is all, me and Laurence are going to spend the evening dashing around some Valve mods in multiplayer for our last days of sweet freedom
-Vincent
Last edited:
Boy, are the Americans going to be angry now...
Who knows what they might unleash on the Channel Pact!
Who knows what they might unleash on the Channel Pact!
Well, Slap me thrice and hand me over to me mama, the americans sure will get ya'
Too bad his name ain't Price.
But you can't have everything.
In summary :
Muahahahaha! Now America just has to elect a republican and they're doomed!
But you can't have everything.
In summary :
Muahahahaha! Now America just has to elect a republican and they're doomed!
I am afraid they still are, hen we started the game, it never occurred to me that we would eventually beef up the USA so that even I have to help in the surface fighting.
Luckily these fancy subs now work moderately good.
Yeah I think so to, but translating it wouldn't make much sense.
-Laurence
Good one! I didn't even notice.
But remember this is alternative reality so... Who knows.
We are talking English to eachother now aswell, are we not, Sir Robau
. There are of course superior languages which we could muster to hold our Lowlands highly intellectual conversations at the moment, but, alas, we are forced to blend in with these linguistic... inferiorsNah, j/k
. Also note that me and Laurence often use different nicknames for each gameplay session, sometimes everal nicknames in a single game. We have no real explanation for it, it's more of a running joke .ColossusCrusher said:
Yes. Yes he did.
-Vincent
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