• We have updated our Community Code of Conduct. Please read through the new rules for the forum that are an integral part of Paradox Interactive’s User Agreement.
By the way, when do we get an update to the 'Book of Deeds? ;)

I do not forgive nor forget.

As I told you some weeks ago, that AAR is abandoned. I lost the inspiration to keep going with it.
 
papersv.jpg

Part Three

August 30th 1938, London, England

Bradley was woken up by a kick in the ribs. He groaned and picked himself up off the floor. A quick look around told him that he was in his office. Levinson was looking down at him, a stack of papers in one hand and another stack in his other. Bradley could feel a steady, hammering pain in his head.

“Why’d you kick me?” he asked. Levinson began smiling.

“You youngsters decided to have a night out on the town in celebration of your first day at work. I’ve been trying to shake you awake for five minutes”.

Bradley thought about it for a moment, before saying “I don’t drink. I don’t think I’m even allowed to drink”.
Levinson’s smile grew to a grin.

“That’s exactly what I said on my second day. Now get yourself a comb and follow me. There was big reorganization of the ministry, and Templewood’s having a fit. He wants all the sections of SIS in his office. Now”.

“All the sections? Isn’t that quite a large group of people?” Bradley asked.

“Not exactly. In the SIS, we refer to the groups that conduct field operations as sections. The rest of the organization’s divided into numerous divisions and sub-divisions. It’s all very confusing. I’ll give you the graph later” Levinson answered, gathering up some loose papers and briskly walking down the stairs.

Bradley gathered found a comb in his pocket and made a few swift strokes. He then proceeded to try and find his hat, which was nowhere to be seen. After about a minute of searching, he heard Levinson in the corridor.

“The hat isn’t necessary! We’ll be indoors!”

Bradley took a second to marvel at the man’s apparent sixth sense. He then left his office, and headed down the stairs. Connor was also there, looking equally hung over. They exchanged befuddled looks, and then followed Levinson out the door, picking up the papers that flew out of the stacks.

The distance was much shorter than they expected, Levinson turning left almost immediately and knocking courteously on a door that was almost exactly opposite to the European Section’s building. An SIS officer opened the door.

“David. Just as a warning. He’s in a really nasty mood today”.

Levinson looked at the officer for a while, an awkward silence descended upon the scene, broken only by Levinson saying “I think I figured that out when he threatened to bust me down to primary school over the phone”.

They walked in, and almost immediately heard Viscount Templewood’s unflattering assessment of the Sino-Japanese section. He was shouting at them louder than Bradley’s trainers at Camp Enfield.

“You incompetent idiots! You’ve been handling those yellow monkeys for six months, and I’ve got squat to show for it! I swear on my mother’s grave, you imbeciles are the reason they almost replaced me with Churchill yesterday! You wouldn’t want that, would you!? Get back to your building, and tell me what Kai-Shek’s got brewing!”

The Sino-Japanese section walked out of Templewood’s office. The youngest, around Bradley’s age, looked utterly mortified. It was probably his first day too. The other three were clearly older, around Levinson’s age, and they were all cursing under their breath. One of them, who had captain’s markings, looked at Levinson.

“Oh, I how wish they’d replaced that sorry SOB with Churchill” he said.

Levinson gave him a pat on the shoulder and said “Don’t we all Philip, don’t we all. On the other hand, how hard can it be to translate Japanese?”

“Real funny Dave. You just stick to kissing Uncle Adolf”.

The Sino-Japanese section walked out the front door, and left them to face the fury of Templewood. The voice that moments ago had been screaming as loud as it could invited them in, using the same tone as Templewood employed in his speeches. It was booming and fatherly, and made Bradley feel safe for a moment, until he remembered the screaming again.
 
Last edited:
Translating Japenese when the target is Chiang Kai-Shek?
And how would Churchill, an old sad failed man get to lead any operations?

To question One: Mr. Levinson's not paid to think about Asia. :D

To question Two: Well, this is a post that the rest of the government sees as a pointless dead-end. Who needs to spy on a world that's kept safe by Versailles and diplomacy? It would be the perfect way to quiet the annoying disaster-planner (Yes, I'm referring to Gallipoli).
 
templewood.jpg


Part Four

August 30th 1938, London, England

The European section walked into the office of SIS head of operations Samuel Hoare, known better as Viscount Templewood. Templewood was sitting at his desk, with a sprawl of papers seemingly branching out from his very fingertips.

“Captain Levinson. I’m to understand that the Soviet Union has been your area of interest lately” he asked.

Placing the stack of papers on Templewood’s desk, Levinson began a detailed report of the situation.

“Yes sir. Joseph Stalin and his government have become increasingly belligerent toward their border nations in the last few years. We suspect that he may attempt to invade the Baltic States or Finland any day now”.

Every time Levinson stated the name of a nation or person, he would sift through the papers and produce a photograph or a map whatever was in question. He talked about possible plans to support the Baltics for almost five minutes straight, before Templewood interrupted him with a simple rise of his hand.

“Forget about that commie bastard Levinson. I need you to think about someplace much closer to home than Moscow. Berlin, to be exact. The kraut’s are all over Prague. Hitler wants the Sudetenland badly.

I know you have more Intel on Germany than the Germans do. Make use of it. Get me a conclusive assessment of their capacity to go to war, and get it before the Prime Minister goes to Munich”.

Levinson was stunned into silence. Templewood stared intently at the captain, almost as if he could read Levinson’s mind if he stared long enough.

“You do have the intel. Don’t you captain?” Templewood asked.

Levinson glanced at Bradley, then at Connor, and finally Templewood again.

“Of course we do sir. We’ll get that report to you in no time”.

“Excellent”, Templewood said, a smile on his face that failed to comfort anyone in the room.

“Now get out of my office”.

The European section filed out in complete silence. Once out the front door, Bradley asked where the info was. He said he’d start working on a report right away. Levinson turned to him, pale faced.

“There is no info. At best, we’ve got some numbers from ’36, when they reoccupied the Rhineland. We thought we might have to go to war. The numbers proved unnecessary, as you well know. Nothing happened”.

Bradley asked him how they were going to get a report to Templewood if all the information was two years old. Levinson took a deep breath.

“Staff Sergeants Allenby and Moss get back from their leave three days from now. Once they arrive. We’ll start making preparations for a trip to Berlin”.

“We’re going to ask the Germans for the info?” Bradley said, realizing almost simultaneously just how stupid his question was. Levinson scowled at him.

“I thought the new guys were supposed to be smart. Of course we’re not going to ask for the German army on a silver platter. We’re going to steal it”.
 
Last edited:
Well, how about reading German newspapers? :rolleyes:

:rofl:
Although I believe that Templewood would prefer something a little more in-depth than "Thanks to the Berlin Times, we know that Private Hans has a shiny new Panzer".
 
berlinmap.jpg

Part Five

September 2nd 1938, London, England

Levinson spread a map of Berlin onto the operations room table. Behind him, the threat level for Hitler had skyrocketed to 42. Bradley reminded himself that Churchill should be listened to should he say anything about Germany. Levinson told everybody to gather around the map.

“Gentlemen. We have quite a few places of interest within Berlin. The first is the Reich Chancellery. There’s bound to be some sort of info in there, most probably in Hitler’s office. The issues of the Berlin Post that we’ve translated seem to imply he’s in control of the army. That alone makes it worth a try”.

Moss stopped Levinson’s speech by raising his hand, almost like a student at school.

“How are we going to get into Hitler’s office? It’s probably got at least one or two guards”.

Levinson smiled mischievously.

“A friend of mine in Germany happens to make their guard uniforms. I hope you see where I’m getting at”.

Moss let out a hearty laugh. Saying “Oh, I’d hate to be one of the two who get that job”.

Levinson’s smile became a malicious grin.

“You and Brower are handling the office”.

Moss’ smile disappeared, and he became stony faced. Levinson turned to Bradley.

“Ellis. You and I are going to take a trip down Bemburger Street, and break into the house of Walther Von Brauchitsch. He’s the current Commander of the Army, and if he has nothing, then nobody does”.

Bradley took a moment to think about what he was about to do. His father, who had served at the Somme, always stressed that a man’s duty to his country supersedes the law. Today, his son was part of a government-sanctioned robbery. His contemplation was interrupted by Allenby.

“So what am I going to do?”

Levinson gave Allenby a look that signalled he should already know.

“You? George. You’re going to be at our hotel. Making sure that we’re ready for a quick getaway should things go awry”.

Allenby nodded, clearly unhappy about not being able to break and enter into someone’s house or office.

“How are we going to keep this secret from Templewood? I doubt he’s going to like the fact that you lied about having the info” Connor asked.

“Brower, when you work for five years with people, and especially if it’s under someone like our dear Chief of Operations, you make a few friends”.

Connor thought about Levinson’s statement and, seemingly understanding that Levinson had insulted Templewood, chuckled to himself. Levinson smiled to himself before turning to the rest of the team.

“Go home for the weekend boys. Get some sleep. Talk about your mother’s food-making skills, and for God’s sake, come back on Monday. The plane leaves at 10 AM from the little airfield by Heath Row”.
 
Last edited:
You know, the United Kingdom has an embassy in Berlin that should be able to feed you all kind of intelligence.
Everyone else uses diplomats.
 
You know, the United Kingdom has an embassy in Berlin that should be able to feed you all kind of intelligence.
Everyone else uses diplomats.

Oh, but what fun would that be? :cool:

Secondly, you can't leave it up to pencilpushers. ;)

PS. I keep forgetting to say this, but I am truly honored to have Enewald himself pointing out the plot holes. :eek:
 
Oh, but what fun would that be? :cool:

Secondly, you can't leave it up to pencilpushers. ;)

PS. I keep forgetting to say this, but I am truly honored to have Enewald himself pointing out the plot holes. :eek:

Ha, it is 24.40 and I have nothing better to do than read your AAR and make silly comments. :p

I should be reading for the final exams, but instead of that I am here.

And that is just how I am.
 
Ha, it is 24.40 and I have nothing better to do than read your AAR and make silly comments. :p

I should be reading for the final exams, but instead of that I am here.

And that is just how I am.

And that is just how everyone likes you. :D
 
winstonfuckingchurchill.jpg

Part Six

September 2nd 1938, London, England

Bradley watched the train arrive by the House of Commons. He looked out onto the station, almost hoping he would see the Prime Minister walking by. His thoughts were interrupted by a voice that he could not mistake, despite having heard it in nature only once before.

“Bradley. It’s good to see you”.

“Mr. Churchill… I mean… Winston”.

Churchill sat down opposite Bradley. He took out a large cigar and lit it. Once he had savoured it for a while, Churchill turned to Bradley.

“So, how was your first week on the job?”

Bradley gave Churchill a puzzled look for an answer.

“It was your first week. Was it not?” Churchill asked.

“Yes. Just wondering why you’d want to know”.

“In politics and war, it is always good to have inside information. I ask again Bradley. How was your first week?”

“I’m not sure I can tell you. It’s classified”.

“Bradley. I am a staunch enemy of Britain’s enemies. I am more patriotic than your entire family line”.

Bradley smiled slightly, muttering “I wouldn’t know about that”.

Churchill continued as if he had not heard.

“I have more British a soul than the King himself. If I cannot be trusted, no one can. So please, indulge me”.

Bradley smiled, until he noticed Churchill’s expression. The man was undoubtedly charismatic, but right now, Bradley could feel Churchill’s eyes looking right into his very soul. They seemed to be giving an ultimatum all of their own.

“Well. We’re ridiculously unafraid of Hitler. At least we were until four days ago”.

“Typical of Templewood. No sense of the long-term. That man couldn’t find out if he himself were a traitor”.

Bradley continued, chills almost running down his spine. Churchill had gone from friendly to intimidating in the space of seconds. The man was clearly a good politician.

“The uh… uh… The captain’s planning a raid of sorts… On Hitler’s office and Chief of the Army Von Brauchitsch’s”.

Bradley immediately noticed a glint in Churchill’s eyes.

“Does Templewood know about this?” Churchill asked.

“No. He hasn’t got a clue”.

Churchill grinned widely.

“Bradley. If your captain needs anything. Anything at all in this mission. Tell him to call this number”, Churchill said, handing Bradley a hastily scribbled note.

“I’ll be sure to give it to him”, Bradley said, slipping the note into his front pocket.

The train stopped. Bradley realized they were already at Dunmow, and he got off, giving Churchill a wave from the station as the train began moving again. Once it was out of sight, Bradley went down the steps, and saw his little brother waiting for him. Colin had his fists on his hips, a chocolate bar sticking out of his pocket and a smile on his face.
 
Last edited:
More reasons not to trust Churchill. Why is everyone obsessed with that fat old man that hawkishly defends the world largest empire?

I don't know. I honestly don't, but hopefully I'll be able to convey that Winston has some "redeeming qualities".
 
Nice AAR, I like the narrative, would be kind of short if they kill Hitler in 41 though. Unless Stalin suddenly develops some ambitions... Or Kaiser Willhelm returns from his grave (the most evil german in history)
 
Nice AAR, I like the narrative, would be kind of short if they kill Hitler in 41 though. Unless Stalin suddenly develops some ambitions... Or Kaiser Willhelm returns from his grave (the most evil german in history)

Aah, but are we sure that Sticks' bullet found its mark. DUN DUN DUUUUUN!

PS. Over 1,000 views! Thanks guys!