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Thread: Faugh A Ballagh - An Irish AAR

  1. #101
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    Chapter 21

    -or-

    "Gimme Shelter"


    Papa New Guinea,
    Australia/New Zealand Army Corps Landing Zone Green.


    "Join the engineers he said, you won't be on the front lines he says. Cushy bleedin job for the rest of the bleeding war he says. If I ever see that recruiting sergeant again I'm going to fuckin kill him." Cpl. John Smith, Canberra Royal Military Engineers, wasn't even bothering to keep his thoughts to a mutter. Right now he was the only person near were he was, with the exception of the Dutch of course and quite frankly he didn't give a flying fuck what the Dutch thought of his thoughts, after all they were too busy trying to kill him.

    *BOOM* And a pile of sand was thrown up a ten foot high roughly six feet from him, the shock-wave of the explosion forcing him to completely lie flat instead of having his chest, arms and face raised as he had been. He got over it and continued working on preparing the explosives to blow the Dutch earth-works in front of him so that the troops would be able to get to work, a bloody stupid task that he had started on some three hours ago. Then though he had assistance from some annoying Kiwi who had caught a mortar shell early on. This had focused John's attention to the task at hand as there is nothing like a bloke exploding all over your face to get you to focus. Now though he was setting the timed fuses in what he believed was officially referred to as a "metric shit-ton" of high explosives. Even though he was under mortar and rifle fire he was surprised at how calm he was feeling as he slipped them into the explosives.

    "After all it's only enough explosives to blow me all the way home in many small pieces. No worries eh?" With the fuses set he pulled the pins that would see them begin their five minute ignition time. He leaned against the small impromtu rampart he had constructed from a couple of fallen sand-bags and the Kiwi's corpse and gathered his breath.

    "Now here comes the fun bit." He straightened up, well not fully up into a sort of half-crouch half-standing pose, picked up his SMLE and got ready to run. On his way over he'd heard some country bloke with the Light Cav muttering about his legs being like springs and running fast as a leopard. He didn't know anything about that but he knew that running from people shooting at you. He started pegging it towards the ANZAC lines, going from side to side to make his target harder to hit. He felt the bullets from the Dutch whizzing past him and hitting the sand near him as the soldiers in the trench in front cheered him on, calling for him to run. He just reached the lip of the trench when he felt with horror something smack into his lower back and push him forward.

    "OH FUCK." He screamed as he fell forward, a bunch of hands caught him "I've been fucking shot." The soldiers lay him down on his back as the medics were called. John thought he could feel his legs going numb and his vision darkening. He started thinking of home, of his family everything he loved and was terrified he would never see it again when the medic reached him. His hands swept up John's increasingly numb body searching for where the bullet had penetrated.

    "You big pansy. Bullet hit your canteen. Bloody lucky if I may say so myself. Get your arse up mate." Suddenly all feeling returned to John's body and his vision cleared up and he felt oddly embarrassed as the other soldiers round him started to jeer him. He got back to his feet when he heard what sounded like the fist of God hitting the ground. He scrambled up and looked over the trench at what remained of the dutch earth-works. As beside him sergeants and officers started calling to fix bayonets and prepare for charge. As the troopers went over the top to very little resistence John realised something very important.

    "Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the rest, those were two minute not five minute charges."

    ~~~~~~~~~~

    While Papa New Guinea was the jewel of the Dutch Pacific possessions it was lightly defended due to the majority of Dutch soldiers being recalled to fight against the Belgian and German armies at the beginning of the war. The task of kicking the Dutch out of the Pacific fell to the recently formed Australian/New Zealand Army Corps or ANZAC troops. They carried out this role throughout 1915 until November when the Dutch were fully removed from the Pacific.

    The fact that they faced very little naval resistance was due mostly to the Dutch Pacific fleet being sent to assault Hawaii with the American Navy.
    ~~~~~~~~~~

    HMIS Cú Chulainn,
    Task Force Alaska,
    North of the Sandwich Isles.


    Niall O'Doherty was not a soldier, nor was he a sailor or indeed a military man of any persuasion. He was however a War Correspondant and had managed to blag his way onto the Battleship so that he could get the eye-witness account of what happened when the Allied fleet hit the Sandwich Isles, and sunk the Yanks while they were at it. Now though he was sitting with the head of the Irish navy stationed out of Alaska in his cramped quarters on the Cú Chulainn as they were approaching the Isles, with the smoke of the American ships spotted by sea-plane to the South-East.

    "So Admiral" he began "What's the plan?" He had no problems asking this question as after all by the time his story reached the newspapers the battle would be long over.

    Admiral Niall MacAnnally leaned forward in his chair. "The plan is pretty damn simple. The Japs are going to be sallying out from their base at Pearl Harbour to meet the Yanks head on while ourselves and Task Force Okinawa come in from the North while the Brits come in from the South. Once they have been engaged Task Force Alaska will be forming the barrier to the East to prevent them from escaping back home. We hope to completely and utterly destroy all US naval power in the Pacific which should free us and the Okinawa force to go round the horn for service in the Atlantic."

    "Very good. Admiral but why are we getting involved? After all the British and the Japanese between them have some of the best naval services in the world, surely they would be more then capable to defeat a second rate power like the Yanks? After all even there current War-Time budget is still smaller then the Royal Navies Peace-Time budget."

    The Admiral looked at him and smiled "The Japanese believe that the waves will help them with a divine quality. The British sing about ruling the waves. However we in the Irish navy do neither, were just very very good at our jobs and don't bother praying or singing about it. That's why we're here, to make sure the world sits up and listens when we speak as is we're viewed as just another British Dominion, after this war people will be looking at us differently. This mission is as much political as it is strategical."

    The rest of the interview was suddenly cut off when an ensign burst into the room. "SIR sorry to interrupt but the British just telegraphed in. Their under attack from the Dutch fleet. The Japanese are going to assist so were stuck tackling the Yanks alone SIR."

    ~~~~~~~~~~

    Barely an hour had passed when the Irish had the American fleets within viewing distance. The massive guns of the Cú Chulainn, Lunása, Vinegar Hill and the Wolfe Tone were already tracking the American ships with orders to fire once they were within range. Niall knew this would be any moment as he stood in an out of the way section of the observation area, a pair of field glasses held to his eyes as he watched the American ships in the distance. Suddenly the air around him was filled with a roar like he had never heard, and the ground shook entirely underneath him as the massive long-range guns of the Cú Chulainn fired on the Americans.

    After he regained his footing he brought the glasses to his eyes again and saw through the smoke the sight of columns of water rising near the American ships, as well as one starting to bellow black smoke. He then noticed the flashes from the American ships and before he knew it heard the sound of Freight train roaring as suddenly columns of water started to erupt near him. He made his way back inside as he felt the ship roar and shake again as the guns fired again, a quick look out at the Irish ships showed that they were also opening up at the Yanks. He suddenly realised that he might die today and the shock of this made him start to shake. He started to make his way back to were he had been billeted as he didn't think he could bare the thought of continuing to stand.

    He reached his bunk and lay there. The ship shook again but this time not from firing but from being fired upon. He heard feet go running past the door to his billet but continued to lie in bed. He never noticed it when he fell asleep, somehow he managed to stay asleep even during the cannons firing and the ship being hit. However when he finally awoke it was to the sound of cheering throughout the ship, he grabbed the nearest sailor and asked him what had happened.

    "The Yanks are running is what happened!." Niall decided to make his way to the bridge to find out more information, the Admiral noticed him as he came in.

    "Take a good look Mr O'Doherty. A fighting ship in victory, a costly victory but a victory all the same."

    "Costly Admiral?" He asked as he looked out at the damaged Cú Chulainn. Nothing major but one of the gun turrets was stuck facing one direction and there were a few fires along the deck as well as holes in places were there hadn't been any before.

    "Yes Mr O'Doherty. We lost the Wolfe Tone and the Lúnasa, Vinegar Hill is damaged but can make it Pearl where the worst of the damage should be fixed. A couple of the Battlecruisers went down too as well as some lighter cruisers and a couple of Destroyers, but you should see the other guy. Four Yank battleships are sunk, three battlecruisers and five light cruisers. All Destroyers sunk. They've still got a large enough fleet in this part of the world Mr O'Doherty but we've definitely knocked the back bone out of it."

    ************

    So Questions, Comments etc?

    This one was fun to write, I did kinda cheat on the Naval battle but I genuinely felt I couldn't write it up very well.

    Actual In-Game fight was pretty close to this. Brits and Japs got caught by the Dutch to the south of Hawaii but beat them while I engaged the Americans with my entire Pacific fleet sans one BattleCruiser. A light cruiser here BTW is just a Protected Cruiser. I had a few out there and so did the Americans.

    Also the ANZACS are under my control but for the purposes of a Post-War arrangement any territory they take will be classed by me as either Aussie or Kiwi controlled.
    Last edited by Agent Larkin; 23-04-2012 at 18:58.

  2. #102
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    ...what he believed was officially referred to as a "metric shit-ton"...
    And here I was thinking that it was a 'metric f*ck-ton'. Ah well, enlightenment comes in many shapes.

    I'm not too cool with you cowardly blowing up my countrymen, but I guess that's the unpleasant reality of war - the Dutch haven't been very good at it for a couple hundred years now. Good job whooping the American fleet, even if this affair was a lot less one-sided that HMIS Thunderchild's adventures near Vancouver.
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  3. #103
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    Your Countrymen will be getting there fair share of shots back.

    I ensure you. The Actual Netherlands is holding very damn well it's just colonially they have reduced strengths.
    Last edited by Agent Larkin; 25-04-2012 at 20:15.

  4. #104
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    Quote Originally Posted by Agent Larkin View Post
    I ensure you. The Actual Netherlands is holding very damn well it's just colonially they have reduced strengths.
    Well, that salves my wounded pride.

    Now that I think of it, Ireland being part of the Commonwealth, shouldn't it be an 'Imperial [expletive] ton'?
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  5. #105
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    Quote Originally Posted by Stuyvesant View Post
    Well, that salves my wounded pride.

    Now that I think of it, Ireland being part of the Commonwealth, shouldn't it be an 'Imperial [expletive] ton'?
    He was an Australian and it suits the tone of the narrative more. However I apparently went a bit overboard so John Smith in future will be a bit less foul-mouthed.

  6. #106
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    My planned Roundel for the Irish Army Air Corps and later the Irish Air Force. Shown here with a One of the "First Squadron".

  7. #107
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    Looks quite a bit like the Royal Dutch Airforce roundel - if you straightened the lines and made that weird color in the left bottom bright orange. Come to think of it, what is that color? Is it a sickly orange? A vomity green? No offensive intended, and perhaps it's related to the background color on the Vicky forum, but I find it somewhat unpleasant to look at. The color, not the roundel - that looks quite nice, methinks.
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  8. #108
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    I was trying for a goldish colour but my paint didn't seem to get it. It will be getting tweaked some more as the Irish in Airplanes won't be showing up till 1916.

  9. #109
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    Chapter 22




    "Oddly enough by late 1915 a sort of balance had fallen over the British Columbia front. Unlike the Quebec front where the fighting was somewhat mobile with the exception of pitched battles for some towns, the Vancouver Defensive Line, or the more commonly known as "BC line" was a scene of Trench Warfare. This was caused due to the strange balance between the weapons available to each side. The Canadians had the defensive advantage in that they possessed a large number of British made Vickers and Irish made LAAC machine guns. However they were handicapped in offensive operations due to the extreme unreliability of the Ross Rifle. The Americans however had the edge in offensive operations due the Krag-Jorgenson's reliability and size making it a good choice for trench combat. However even with the few captured Commonwealth machine-guns they were grossly outnumbered for help in defensive positions. Then the Irish showed up with the Pattern 13 and LAAC guns."
    - "Micks, Jocks and Canucks. Or how BC was won." Dr. Leonard Hull.


    The BC Line,
    Eastern Section,
    42nd Anchorage Rifles,
    Irish Expeditionary Force.


    The Yank had his fingers wrapped around Sgt Jeremy Burne's throat. Jeremy tried to throw him off but the Yank had him pinned. All around him chaos ruled in this section of trench held by the Irish. He futilely tried to hit the Yank off him. Slowly he realised his vision was starting to darken. His right hand grouped for something, anything to help him.

    Two Days Earliar,
    Three Miles North of the Vancouver Defensive Line


    Jeremy Burne lit up the cigarette he had sitting in his mouth as he lay against the side of the ditch that he and his men had jumped into. He swivelled his head left and right to make sure everyone was still ok. And with the exception of Pvt. Akerelrea who was still swearing and kept going to touch his shoulder were the bullet had hit him. It was a through and through thank God but he still had it bandaged up.

    "If you keep touching it you'll just wind up making it worse." Came the deep voice of Cpl. Rhekov. "And if you make it worse it means the Canadians will then know they can actually hit the broadside of a barn." Rhekov grinned at the last words. As Akerelrea started throwing insults back Jeremy had time to reflect on the fact that maybe, just maybe marching down the road in a uniform nearly the same as an enemy countries at a rear guard position was not a wise plan. Then again he was firmly of the conviction that whoever thought dark green was a good uniform colour was an idiot. The Canucks and the Brits had it straight on that front. Khaki. Now there was colour for uniforms.

    He listened to the insult trading between the two men. He decided it had gone on for long enough. "Alright, alright give it a rest. Akerelrea stop playing with your bandages. Rhekov your supposed to be a Corporal. If you want to keep acting like a private I'll have that stripe back. The rest of you be quiet and enjoy the rest. With a bit of luck the Colonel will be there for a while yet so smoke them if you've got them."

    Unfortunately for Sgt. Burne the company commander, a young Leftenant by the name of Sean Dillon, came back from the negotiating party that had gone to convince the Canucks that they weren't an American Army after sneaking up on them leaned over the lip of the ditch not three minutes later to inform him that they were too form back up on the road. With a sigh Jeremy stood up and motioned for his men to do the same. As they reformed they were given another piece of un-welcome news.

    "Our Winter uniforms Sir?" Jeremy tried to smother his surprise at having been given the order to change uniform in the middle of the road.

    "Yes Sgt. Orders from the Colonel himself, and apparently High-Command is already issuing the order to all Alaskan regiments. We are allowed to remove inner linings to make it more comfortable but we must change before going any further." Lt. Dillon said. Jeremy understood the sense behind the order. After all there standard uniform was almost the same colour as a Yanks and the Alaskan winter uniform, the only one in Irish service that wasn't dark green, was a grey colour unlike anyone else's uniform. However it was designed to make it bearable in the cold weather of Alasaka, not the somewhat nippy weather of British Columbia in September. Even without the lining it was likely to get warm fast.

    It did. By the time the Alaskan troops made it too there stretch of trench Jeremy was certain that he now understood how it felt to be a piece of beef in the stove. After he lumped his pack and possessions next to what could be generously described as a bed in an underground dug out, he and his squad drew first patrol at the forward trenches, a little distance ahead of the trenches were they were billeted or the so-called "Service Trenches". He sighed and slung his rifle onto his shoulder and fixed the tin-hat helmet[1] on his head as his ten man squad moved forward. Getting to the position was not difficult as the trenches were designed to allow the largest number of men to the forward trenches as possible when needed, usually to repel the enemy assaults or to retake sections of trench when the Yanks got lucky. His uniform drew more then a few stares from different soldiers on his way forward but the three stripes on his arm meant no-one said anything.

    That was until he was at the forward trenches, relieving some tired looking Canadians, when a booming voice cried out from to his right. "AH Jesus Christ lads the bloody dead are here to help us. After all what other damn fool comes to the front with a grey uniform?" Jeremy snapped his head right and was surprised at what he saw. It was a Sergeant like him, wearing the Khaki uniform tunic and helmet with a Ross in hand. This didn't surprise him. The pleated kilt, the small St Andrew's flag sewn onto his left shoulder and the accent that sounded like it had just come from the Highland's of Scotland itself however did surprise him.

    "Bloody hell. Scotsmen? In this part of the world?" This seemed to amuse the other soldier to no end as his face broke out in a smile.

    "You think your surprised? Think how aye feel seeing a Mick in a grey uniform. And for your information sonny I'm a Canadian. Like the rest of my men. Granted my parents hail from the blessed shores of Alba, but I'm here cause those Yank bastards drove us out of our barracks in Vancouver. Sgt. Donal McLaughlin, Canadian Scottish Regiment. Yourself?"

    "Sgt. Jeremy Burne. 42nd Anchorage Rifles." It was at that moment that Pvt Akerelrea decided to speak up.

    "As long as you guys shoot better then the assholes back at the rear-guard I hope we'll get along."

    "Pvt. Akerelrea do me a favour and shut up before I get annoyed and put you on notice." Jeremy snapped at him.

    "Aye, strange looking Irshman you have there." Sgt McLaughlin said while grinning at the peculiar scene.

    "If you think he's strange you should meet my corporal. I swear to good he served under the Tsar until recently. Thats think about Alaskan regiments. Were a healthy mix of Irish who came to settle, Russians who were there before us, and the Natives who were there before them. The weather and nature is so dangerous up there we all had to band together. You got a problem with that mate and I'd appreciate it if you bugger off." Jeremy stared intently at the Scots-Canadian Sgt while saying it. He had no time for people who looked down on locals, a viewpoint not shared by many of his countrymen outside of Alaska. Luckily Sgt McLaughlin just laughed.

    "No trouble from me over it mate. There are a couple of Metis in my regiment and you'll find more then a few Cree and other Natives sprinkled through the ranks around here. Ain't had no problems with them before and I ain't liable to start now."


    ~~~~~~~~~~

    Two day's passed by before Sgt Burne saw any sort of action. He talked with his men and the Scots next to him. Played cards if there were no officers watching and had fun teasing the Canadian troops with his Pattern 13.

    However at about 5AM the Yanks came. He was sitting on a stool that he had scrounged up drinking tea from his tin cup when the first shot fired. It caught Cpl Rhekov right in the chest and he went limp as he hit the ground. Jeremy swore and reached for his rifle next to him. He worked the bolt as the Yanks came over the lip with Bayonets on their rifles. He fired at the first one he saw he turned, worked the bolt again and fired again. He did this until his magazine was empty. He didn't have time to fix his own bayonet so started swinging his rifle like a club.

    He didn't remember winded up on the ground wrestling with a yank. He did however feel it when the Yank had his fingers wrapped around Sgt Jeremy Burne's throat. Jeremy tried to throw him off but the Yank had him pinned. All around him chaos ruled in this section of trench held by the Irish. He futilely tried to hit the Yank off him. Slowly he realised his vision was starting to darken. His right hand grouped for something, anything to help him. He couldn't feel anything and had his hand stood on. He realised he was going to die when a blade suddenly came out from the Yanks forehead and blood started to drip down on him, the Yanks gripped faltered and Jeremy was dragged onto his feet. Breath burning his lungs like fire. He turned to look at Sgt McLaughlin who's bayonet was dripping with blood. Wordlessly Jeremy nodded to him, all around him the Yanks were either dead, dying or gone. He lost three men. All of who's rifles were quickly snatched up by Canadians.

    ************

    Questions, Comments, etc?

    [1] The metal helmet was introduced throughout the British empire in 1914. It's shaped like the British WW1 helmet OTL. Most nations have them now exception being Russia who can't afford them.

  10. #110
    Just catching up on this - I have to say you do a great job on narration for what is mostly a history book AAR.

    As a navy fan I especially loved seeing the Yankee fleet being beaten and I'm really looking forward to seeing the Army Air Corps in action.
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  11. #111
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    Quote Originally Posted by RossN View Post
    Just catching up on this - I have to say you do a great job on narration for what is mostly a history book AAR.

    As a navy fan I especially loved seeing the Yankee fleet being beaten and I'm really looking forward to seeing the Army Air Corps in action.
    It will be 1916 before the Air Corps is introduced and late that year before they start to make themselves known.

  12. #112
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    So the Scot... I mean, the Canadian Sgt McLaughlin bayonetted the American clean through his head? Egads! No wonder the Scottish strike fear in the hearts of sane men. And I thought the kilts and bagpipes were bad...

    You did a good job capturing the alternating (long) stretches of boredom and short bursts of intense, disorienting action. The Alaskan Irish made it through okay - I guess. Three dead to beat back a trench raid? Not pleasant, but it could have been far worse.
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    Quote Originally Posted by Stuyvesant View Post
    So the Scot... I mean, the Canadian Sgt McLaughlin bayonetted the American clean through his head? Egads! No wonder the Scottish strike fear in the hearts of sane men. And I thought the kilts and bagpipes were bad...
    .
    Well a combo of artistic license and a good bayonet being shoved by a strong man through the back of someone's head.....

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    Chapter 23

    "We thought that Christmas that none of us were going to go home ever again. Bullets, shells and grenades were the everyday really. However when when it turned to Christmas day all of us the Yanks and the Canucks just stopped fighting. It was eerily quiet...... I never did find out who started singing us or them but within minutes of the first carol starting men up and down all the trenches were joining in before long the little impromptu truce escalated so that we all came out of our positions, leaving behind our weapons and actually got to know the people we were fighting against...... Somehow that gave us the hope to get through the rest of the conflict." - "Christmas at War" Joseph Berke


    ANZAC Deployment Camp,
    Undisclosed Location,
    December 30th, 1915


    It was smokey in the tent, the smoke didn't help with the humidity and oppressing heat but Cpl John Smith didn't mind. At least he wasn't getting shot at. I man to his right offered him a smoke but he declined, working with explosives didn't really encourage smoking so he had dropped the habit. Instead he chewed on either seeds, grass or occasionally coffee beans. They didn't taste great but they killed the cravings. A hushed silence fell over the tent as Lt Daniels took up a position in front of the chairs. He stood there looking out to the crowd and then nodded. With that the lights in the tent were turned out and a clicking noise started with a single light showing on the white canvas screen at the front of the room. The light darkened as a familiar picture showed up on the screen to much cheering from the men.



    The picture proceeded to inform them that this cut of film reel was for the "Viewing of His Majesties Armed Forces". The film then proceeded to change to show them a picture of twisted metal looking for all the world like a ribcage sticking out of the ground. It changed to a black screen with writing on it and the Leftenant began to talk.

    "Strasbourg, Germany. Famed German fighter pilot Manfred Von Richthofen," the picture changed to show a smiling man moving around an aircraft with the ensign of the German Air Force before switching back to the writing, "has successfully shot down a French airship outside the city of Strasbourg that was believed to be destined for the city to bomb civilian targets" the picture changed again to show the city "upon watching this behemoth of the sky take flame the grateful populace rushed the nearby aerodrome and treated Von Richthofen and his men to celebrations" the picture showed people surrounding an aircraft, passing around flowers and bottles while supporting a very happy man in German uniform on their shoulders.

    "The French Military denies the Airship was bound for any civilian targets stating it was bound for military targets only. The French media however have started to give brave Von Richthofen the nickname "Le Baron Rouge" after his aircraft and "The noble blood he has bathed himself in." " The Lt looked up at the room "Bloody Frogs, can't even insult a man correctly." The laughter that followed was immediately hushed as the picture changed. "French Indochina, Japanese Troops began landing operations." It showed soldiers coming off boats and organising tents and such, the Japanese Flag of the red dot on a white field with a Union Jack in the top left flew in the background. "They hope that they will be able to push the French out of the area and secure India from any possible enemy attack."

    The picture changed again numerous times to show Irish forces returning to Okinawa supposedly to be stationed there before being moved somewhere else, South African troops taking towns that had belonged to the French in Africa, British Troops landing in Belgium to help reinforce the Belgians against the French and the Dutch, Canadian troops in their positions along that miserable front and finally some message from the Pom's Prime-Minister that was supposed to be rallying. John wasn't really paying attention for at that bit he had spied senior officers and NCO's falling into the tent and he stood up at the end of the film before they even spoke. "Alright Gents you've had your rest now His Majesty wants you to go out and earn your shilling. Pack up and get ready to move out, we sail in two hours." Spoke the RSM.

    And so it was that Cpl John Smith boarded the landing boat as it went dark. As the boat sailed out he went through his checking routine to make sure he had his tools, some gun-cotten for blasting, and ammunition for his rifle. He worked the action on his rifle to make sure it was smooth and loaded the two extra .303 rounds on top of his ten into the rifle that he had been shown by a Veteran how to do. The boats slipped through the night with the coast to his right, after a while he heard the booms of thunder behind him and looked back to see that on the coast flashes were filling up the night as well as the sound of shells hitting the ground. The boats came to shore at the beach and the ANZAC forces were dropped off. A small corps of troops stayed back to organise supplies while the majority of the troops moved in-ground.

    They moved through jungle that was just shy of be being impassable and after an hour they were at their objective. Mortars were set up and machine guns were run up to firing positions while John and another bloody Kiwi engineer, this time a Pessimist named Julian Smeetin, got ready with some standard infantry troops so that they could run the position they had been assigned.

    ~~~~~~~~~~

    At exactly ten minutes past midnight of December 31st, 1915. The forces of the Australian, New-Zealand Army Corps opened fire upon the guard barracks and positions of the Panama Canal. While the attack didn't hit the whole Canal at once the forces quickly moved to take out the sections that were guarded, information that had been provided to them by the Colombian Armies Intelligence unit. The politics around the capture of the Canal are murky at best but the Colombian Government was promised that it would have all territories formerly held by Panama up to the Canal returned to them while the Canal itself and the territories on the North American side of the Canal that had belonged to Panama would fall under British control. The exact details of the deal wouldn't be fully worked out until the year 1953 but the immediate effect of this was to see Colombia join the Allies and help secure the Canal. It was on New Year's Day 1916 that the Canal was deemed under British control and the landing a complete success. The strategy behind the tactic would be repeated numerous times throughout the war with differing levels of success.

    However the war was still far from over, for it is not for nothing that the Year 1916 is known as the year of "Total War."

    ~~~~~~~~~~

    Turin,
    Kingdom of Sardinia,
    January 1st, 1916


    An army officer grinned as he looked at the reports he had been given. The Austrians and French had agreed to the demands from Naples and within 24 hours the territories to the North-East, including Venice, would be handed over to the Kingdom of Italy. Just as within 24 hours the Kingdom of Sardinia would dissolve. The intelligence bureau had provided the military with what it needed to know and troops were preparing themselves near the borders of the territories that the British had stolen all those years ago, that they had now abandoned to go and fight in foreign fields. The only real threat lay in Rome. But that would be defeated in due time.

    The officer grinned. Soon there would be no Sicilia, no Sardinia, only Italia and then the unification that had been so cruelly denied for so long would be real.

    ************

    So Questions, Comments, etc?

    The Panama canal thing is mostly born out of narrative with me landing the Anzacs in Panama after it foolishly decide to stick with the US. Colombia joining was just icing on the cake.

  15. #115
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    I've read the first three chapters and I'm really enjoying it thus far. Each chapter has been more ambitious and well-written than the one before.
    However, I found this in Chapter 3:
    Quote Originally Posted by Agent Larkin View Post
    The country mobilized. The Army who were still stationed in Cork where loaded upon the navy ships in Cóbh Harbour where they left to much fanfare to begin the campaign. When presented with choices for landing the Military leadership decided to ignore the option of Crimea and instead go for the Balkans. With this in mind the navy sailed for the port of Libava. The first conflict of the war was the battle of Kattegat which saw the Irish navy and Russian navy clash.
    Cue pictures of the Irish invading the Baltic :P
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    Quote Originally Posted by Eams View Post
    I've read the first three chapters and I'm really enjoying it thus far. Each chapter has been more ambitious and well-written than the one before.
    However, I found this in Chapter 3:


    Cue pictures of the Irish invading the Baltic :P
    ...... Whelp you can probably hear the facepalm for that all the way in Sweden.

    I used not to proof-read my stuff as much as it was mostly written on the fly in the middle of class (y'know instead of learning) but thats inexcusable.

    To the EDIT button.

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=12eY2...eature=related

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    Quote Originally Posted by Agent Larkin View Post
    ...... Whelp you can probably hear the facepalm for that all the way in Sweden.

    I used not to proof-read my stuff as much as it was mostly written on the fly in the middle of class (y'know instead of learning) but thats inexcusable.

    To the EDIT button.

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=12eY2...eature=related
    There was distinct "SLAP" that came rolling in from the North Sea earlier, yes. And for future reference, the North Sea is north of the Balkans and to the west of the Baltic :P

    On a more serious note, I've made it up through chapter 16 (also instead of learning) and the quality has continued to rise consistently. I'm pleasantly surprised that you didn't have Patton get himself and his men killed through his hotheadedness.

    And the notion of Okinawans joining up to fight for Ireland is both slightly ridiculous and incredibly awesome.

    Also, I'm intrigued as to why Canada and Ireland combined would have at least six carriers in 2012. Not just because it's Canada and Ireland, but because any nation other than the US would have that many.
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    Quote Originally Posted by Eams View Post
    Also, I'm intrigued as to why Canada and Ireland combined would have at least six carriers in 2012. Not just because it's Canada and Ireland, but because any nation other than the US would have that many.
    Now y'see if I told you that would be a big spoiler for what is to come. However in that chapter there are a few little hints as to why.

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    Quote Originally Posted by Agent Larkin View Post
    Now y'see if I told you that would be a big spoiler for what is to come. However in that chapter there are a few little hints as to why.
    Then I'll have to go back and read it again

    Regarding the latest update, it was as good as the ones preceding it, and opens up the possibility of Kiwis and Aussies invading Spanish (?) Cuba.
    And I guess that Colombia have gotten almost everything that they want, and everything that they're going to get, out of this war already.
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    Quote Originally Posted by Eams View Post
    Then I'll have to go back and read it again

    Regarding the latest update, it was as good as the ones preceding it, and opens up the possibility of Kiwis and Aussies invading Spanish (?) Cuba.
    And I guess that Colombia have gotten almost everything that they want, and everything that they're going to get, out of this war already.
    Cuba is (at the time of update) still Spanish as the Spanish-American war never happened.

    And yes Colombia has gotten al it's liable to get in this conflict so might not be mentioned again.

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