A Gentleman's War : The Middle-East Command (HoI3 TFH - UK AAR)

[Eurasia]

A Gentleman’s War : The Middle-East Command
(HoI3 TFH - UK AAR)
Chapter Eight : Authority - 1.3.1936 To 31.3.1936

The month of March wasn’t that hot to be honest. Much of the time, even during high noon, it was 20 degrees Celsius, or 68 degrees Fahrenheit, which was pretty comfortable. That was still twice as much as the temperature would be in London, of course, and the Field Marshall did like to wear his overcoat which likely didn’t help much.

But when it was suggested that maybe he should stay inside or leave the coat behind or use sunblock he would ‘pooh pooh’ the suggestion and refuse.

On the morning of the 6th of March the Captain was debating on if he should hide the coat or not when, on entering the Field Marshall’s office, something happened.

The Field Marshall was reading a news article in the London Times, which was no doubt about that year’s fashion, when the Captain noticed a change come over the man’s face

Uh-oh. The Captain had come to understand that expression. An idea had formed inside the man’s mind.

Much of the time the Field Marshall’s ideas were silly, if not outright stupid, impossible, and many times illegal. His ideas were the stuff of horror and insanity. There were psychiatrists, and a few horror writers, who would give thousands of pounds to understand the Field Marshall’s thought process.

“Captain,” said the Field Marshall as he put the newspaper he was reading on his desk, “may I ask a question? Where does my authority end? As I am in charge of the Middle-East Command, or Theater as it were, where are the borders of my powers? Can I, for example, arrest certain government officials or declare marshal law or remove certain pieces of art from the local museums?”

“No, sir, nothing like…..where did that NEW painting come from?”

“What?”

“The new one hanging behind you on the wall?”

“It was among my belongings when I arrived,” responded the Field Marshall swiftly. “I brought it from home. It’s been in my family since one of my ancestors worked for Queen Elizabeth the First.”

“Really?” remarked the Captain. “They had a painting of a small Arab boy drawing water from a well in the middle of a desert town?”

“Er..yes..?”

“indeed,” said the Captain drily. “The answer is still no. You are a military officer of the Empire of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. The Kingdom of Egypt is independent. We are only here to protect the region, the Suez Canal, and to help train their armed forces.”

“Oh, eh…yes,” said the Field Marshall, as he glanced at the painting behind him. “Yes…but I do have military authority to protect Egypt and other parts of the Middle East? How FAR does that authority go?”

“Well,” replied the Captain, “your sphere of authority is large. Officially. But in reality it is somewhat smaller. Let me show you the maps.”

“This is British Territory or nations we are…allied with,” explained the Captain as he pointed at one of the larger sized maps. “But much of it is useless.”

He replaced the map with another map. “This is a map on the infrastructure of Africa. As least those regions we know of. As you can see your authority only goes this far south. And only along the coasts.”

“What is that gray colored area?” asked the Field Marshall as he pointed at the inland provinces of Africa.

“Deserts, heavily armed nomads, and camel spiders are big as your head.”

The Field Marshall looked ill. “So nothing civilized out there, eh?”

“Nothing,” replied the Captain, “no phones, no lights, no motor cars. Nor a single luxury. Like Robinson Crusoe, it’s as primitive as can be.”

“Who takes over there? South of my authority?”

“East Africa Command Theatre,” answered the Captain. “Field Marshal McCulloch is in charge and he is not a happy camper. He last request for one garrison brigade and seventeen infantry brigades was turned down. And he has a bunch of Italian units next door as neighbors.”

“Naughty Italians,” said the Field Marshall with a shake of his head. “Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll switch sides.”

The Captain opened his mouth, closed this mouth, and then left the office without speaking.

 

[nuclearslurpee]

It is questionable whether it is worth writing an entire update only to make a joke at the expense of the Italians.

As this is a British AAR the answer to the question is "yes".

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

I mean, we know that they switch sides.

 

[Bullfilter]

“Naughty Italians,” said the Field Marshall with a shake of his head. “Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll switch sides.”

I mean, we know that they switch sides.

To mix classic British comedy tropes, we need Manuel from Fawlty Towers to be recruited as Melchett’s manservant. He could then reply to the observation: “Eventually.”

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

To mix classic British comedy tropes, we need Manuel from Fawlty Towers to be recruited as Melchett’s manservant. He could then reply to the observation: “Eventually.”

Um...Manuel is Spanish...

 

[nuclearslurpee]

Um...Manuel is Spanish...

"Eventually"

 

[Bullfilter]

Um...Manuel is Spanish...

Ye-es ... doesn’t stop him being hired as a servant? Of course, this is an important debate, not at all OT

 

[Surt]

To mix classic British comedy tropes, we need Manuel from Fawlty Towers to be recruited as Melchett’s manservant. He could then reply to the observation: “Eventually.”

Can't recruit him before the Generalissimo enters the scene.

 

[Bullfilter]

Can't recruit him before the Generalissimo enters the scene.

Ah, anything is possible when you run the altiverse! But it was just an idle observation, not a serious employment recommendation for the AAR. Malek would be driven mad and he is not a Basil Fawlty type.

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

Ah, anything is possible when you run the altiverse! But it was just an idle observation, not a serious employment recommendation for the AAR. Malek would be driven mad and he is not a Basil Fawlty type.

Maybe a new manservant called 'beloved' or something...

 

[Eurasia]

A Gentleman’s War : The Middle-East Command
(HoI3 TFH - UK AAR)
Chapter Nine : The Plan - 1.4.1936 To 30.4.1936

April was a change in weather for the Field Marshall. Storms had come to the coast and the temperature had dropped, slightly, with the rains. Many of the roads along the Mediterranean ocean were turned into mud.

As the city Al Qahira was modern, with paved streets, it was the country side where the storms had the most affect. Go outside the city limits and your car would be in mud up to the door frames.

And the overcoat the Field Marshall liked to wear soaked up the rain like a sea sponge. In fact, so did many of the Field Marshall’s favorite things.

“Damn this rain!” complained the Field Marshall. “Look at my moustache! My hair! My monthly issue of ‘Detective Stories For Young Boys’! Everything is wet! If I wanted water in my Bourdon I would add ice!”

The news, from both English newspapers and international newspapers, focused mainly on the Italians and their war with Ethiopia.

The Italians slowly worked they way towards the enemy Capital, almost like a snake slowly circling its prey, taking the outer provinces one by one.

“Like eating a cookie,” said the Field Marshall with a grin during one of their morning debriefings.

“What sir?” responded Captain Malek with a confused look.

“Like this,” replied Sir Anthony C.H. Melchett. He lifted his right hand up to his face, as if holding a invisible cookie, moving his fingers as if turning a it as he made a “Nom-nom-nom-nom” noise. He was demonstrating how to eat a cookie.

“You eat it slowly from the outside in,” the Field Marshall added with a wink.

The Captain just nodded.

On the 10th of April the Captain decided to broach the serious subject of what to do when the Italians tried to invaded.

“Sir,” said the Captain during the Field Marshall’s breakfast. “I have a plan for how to deal with the Italians when they try to take British North Africa.”

“Go on,” the man said while chewing on a sausage. “I’m listening.”

The Captain placed a map on the desk. He pointed out the reddish territory.

“First, I would like to point out the infrastructure between the border and Alexandria is horrible,” pointed out the Captain.

“Think of the Italians marching over this landscape. Sand and baked rock. Bugs and snakes and not a wine shop in sight. Getting sweat all over their fashionable uniforms, getting sand into their salads, and getting sunburned.”

“Poor chaps,” remarked the Field Marshall as he sliced into one of his grilled tomatoes.

“Now,” he added placing another map on top of the first one, “think about how much more upset they will be if we were sneaky and launched an invasion on the port of Tobruch. The port right on the border which is likely the nearest supply source. Now they are trapped between our forces, no food, no water, no sun block. No Moustache wax!”

“By Jove!” exclaimed the Field Marshall. “Their morale would be crushed. They’d surrender to us in droves! A wonderful plan.”

“I just need two things from you sir,” continued the Captain. “I need you to approval a work order to build some Land Forts in Alexandria. In case the Italians get to the city. We should build at least two tiers of Land Forts. And I need you to name the operation.”

Field Marshall quickly signed off on the work order and handed it to the Captain. “Get our engineers to get on it right away! I am sure they can hire enough unskilled workers among the natives to work on the Forts. And we will call it Operation Boomarang!”

“Boomarang?”

“Yes,” replied the Field Marshall. “Because the Italians are tossing men at us, and like the Boomarang, they will not be returning.”

The Captain opened his mouth, closed his mouth, and just nodded.

By the 11th of April the Italian forces finally took Addis Ababa and the poor African nation fell.

“The Italians won?” remarked the Field Marshall with a shocked look. “So, what did they win? What does Ethiopia have?”

“Not much,” said the Captain. “Desert, half naked natives, and that’s about it. Just a smaller nation to boss around.”

“That’s nice,” remarked the Field Marshall with a smile. “Good for them!”

The Captain decided to keep silent.

During this month the government announced a few breakthroughs but as the Field Marshall cared nothing for science or technology the Captain kept the information to himself.

Also the Captain knew many of the units asked for were about to finish their training and be ready. Soon the Field Marshall would have to go over the lists of officers to see who would be in charge of the upcoming infantry divisions. The Captain wondered WHO the Field Marshall would select?

 

[roverS3]

I really do like operation Boomarang, even the name is actually genius. Everything about this suggests that it's an operation to push the Italians right back from where they came. You know, like a Boomarang. The Field Marshall is also an old chap from the Great War, so he's used to massive offensives to push the enemy a couple 100m further, if he's lucky. He would be unlikely to come up with such a cunning plan, especially one that involves naval landing (Surely he's still in shock over Galipolli). Italian intelligence is going to get this one so wrong, and for once the Field Marshall's stupidity might prompt the Italians to do exactly what would be most advantageous to him, that is, to throw maximum force behind their push into Egypt in anticipation of heavy pushback.

 

[Eurasia]

A Gentleman’s War : The Middle-East Command
(HoI3 TFH - UK AAR)
Chapter Ten : Artillery Brigades - 1.5.1936 To 9.5.136

When May rolled around the Field Marshall became very excited. His units were scheduled to finish their training and become ready for duty. He had asked that his units assemble in the port in Plymouth. Lt. General Liddell, the Commander of the South-Western Area HQ, promised to help organize the units before they were shipped.

As the Field Marshall waited for news of his first artillery brigade the Captain grabbed any news dealing with improvements in military technology. He knew the Field Marshall cared nothing for them but HE was slightly interested in them.

For example there were announced on improvements in industrial production and artillery barrels. Of course, these improvements were too late to help the artillery brigades that were about to complete their training.

On the 8th of May the 1st Artillery Brigade was deployed to Plymouth. Their crews had been drilled with, and been issued, 25 pounder gun-howitzers. Pretty powerful guns to be honest.

The 2nd Artillery Brigade was deployed to Plymouth on the 9th. Now both brigades just had to wait for transportation.

Also on the 9th the newly formed 6th Infantry Division was also deployed to the port. The three infantry brigades were armed with Bren guns, 3 inch Mortars, 4.5 inch Howitzers, and 2 pounder anti-tank guns. Their one artillery brigades was given the 25 pounder gun-howitzers. Like the other artillery brigades.

“Sir,” said the Captain as he delivered the news to the Field Marshall. “The 6th Infantry Division is ready. Do you wish for me to send a message to Lt. General Liddell on which commander you want for the unit?”

“Oh, don’t bother,” said Sir Anthony Cecil Hogmanay Melchett with a big grin as he looked up from the funnies he was reading. “I’ve already told the Lt. General who I want in charge of the divisions. Even sent a letter for the officer who will be given command of the 6th Infantry. An old friend of mine. Almost had him shot once.”

The Captain just decided to nod his head and back out of the office.

Major General Edmund Blackadder was known as somewhat as a trickster and a expert when it came to offensive tactics.

Now he was waiting in the outer office of Lieutenant General Liddell for what could be his first command since the Great War.

After the terrors of war and the more peaceful boredom of being in prisoner of the Kaiser he had returned to England to become a peacetime officer.

He had tried to keep in touch with others from the war.

For example there was Kate Parkhurst. Kate Parkhurst had tried to pretend to be a man during the Great War with mixed results. While General Melchett had not realized she was a ‘she’ when she was the man’s driver MOST people saw through her disguise.

So she switched her name from ‘Bob’ to ‘Bobbie’ and wore female driver’s uniform. Funny enough the General didn’t seem to notice this gender switch.

After the war Blackadder and Kate had gotten together and, after about a year, got married. George and Darling had both been invited as was Kate’s many brothers. George had been Blackadder's best man.

By then ‘The Honorable’ George Colthurst St. Barleigh had also married into one of the other wealthy families. So George brought his wife Madeline. It was a interesting story on how the two had met.

Seems George had joined a club called the ‘Drones’, met a new friend named Bernie Wooster, visited one of the family’s many estates, and with the help of a Butler named Jeeves he was able to marry one of Bernie’s friends. Who happened to be the lovely Madeline Bassett. These events all happened within a week.

Kevin Darling had brought his wife Doris to the wedding. She turned out to be pretty and very smart which impressed Blackadder no end. The two men, in fact, were very civil with each other. Their time in captivity had forced them to learn to get along.

And now, after years of peaceful life in the countryside as a officer on the reserve list, he was about to be dumped back into the hell of what could be another great war.

As he pondered this the door to the inner office opened and Lt. General Liddell stood there with a folder in his hands. “Come in Blackadder. I have your commission for you.”

After both men sat down at the Lt. General’s small desk Liddell slid the folder over to Blackadder. “Your new command. The 6th Infantry Division of the Middle East Command. You will be reporting to the city of Alexandria as soon as transport is available. Congratulations!”

“Thank you sir,” said Blackadder as he picked up the folder and flipped it open. “May I ask who is my commanding officer?”

“Lt. General Gowrie is your superior officer,” replied Liddell with a nod. “Oh…in there is a letter from the Field Marshall of the Middle East Command Theater. Seems he was a friend of yours.”

“Really?” Blackadder searched through the paperwork in the folder, pulled out a envelope, read the his name on it, and said, “Huh.”

“Problem Blackadder?”

“Wot?” replied Blackadder looking a tad dazed. “Eh, no, I think I better go check on the division. Make sure everything is packed and secure when the transport is ready. If I may?”

“Of course, of course. Maybe we can have a drink at the Officer’s Mess before you go?” The two men shook hands and Blackadder left the inner office.

Blackadder sat down on one of the chairs in the outer office and stared at his name written on the envelope. “No…no…no…” He knew the handwriting.

He ripped open the envelope with one of his fingernails and started to read the letter.

“Bollocks.”

 

[nuclearslurpee]

“Bollocks.”

No comment I can offer addresses the latest update so succinctly nor so eloquently, thus a quotation shall suffice.

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

Kevin Darling had brought his wife Doris to the wedding. She turned out to be pretty and very smart which impressed Blackadder no end. The two men, in fact, were very civil with each other. Their time in captivity had forced them to learn to get along.

Fanon is that they were both probably friends before the war, being the only two sane men in the British Army. Then they fell out when one managed to get himself a desk job and the other forced on the front for three years.

Meltchett makes one miss his distantly related ancestor, the Duke of Wellington. Not the smartest man either, but at least knew what he was doing when it counted.

 

[El Pip]

I see this work aspires to the same exacting standards of historical accuracy as the original Blackadder (i.e. absolutely none), but then what price realism when you are writing a comedy.

On which note I have applied the rigorous detective skills of Captain Blackadder and determined that Melchett is very clearly a traitor;

“Damn this rain!” complained the Field Marshall. “Look at my moustache! My hair! My monthly issue of ‘Detective Stories For Young Boys’! Everything is wet! If I wanted water in my Bourdon I would add ice!”

No true Englishman would willing drink Bourbon.

“Like this,” replied Sir Another C.H. Melchett. He lifted his right hand up to his face, as if holding a invisible cookie, moving his fingers as if turning a it as he made a “Nom-nom-nom-nom” noise. He was demonstrating how to eat a cookie.

Or call a Biscuit a Cookie. Or go non-nom.

“You eat it slowly from the outside in,” the Field Marshall added with a wink.

Or do whatever was going on there.

He also admits his name is "Sir Another", because he is a replacement for the proper Melchett. Mark my words, we are dealing with a traitorous agent sent to bring down Middle East Command from the inside.

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

On which note I have applied the rigorous detective skills of Captain Blackadder and determined that Melchett is very clearly a traitor;

As a member of the upper class, he'll be part German, French or amercian. Perhaps all three.

Certainly seems to be the latter, going off his diet. Cookies and bourbon? Classic mistake.

 

[Eurasia]

A Gentleman’s War : The Middle-East Command
(HoI3 TFH - UK AAR)
Chapter Eleven : Reinforcements Arrive - 10.5.136 To 31.5.1936

The first part of May seemed pretty slow. The British government made few public announcements and Europe seemed quiet. But under the surface men were being trained, officers were being called up for active duty, and equipment was being assembled.

On the 14th Queen Mary Flotilla, the first Flotilla of transport requested by Field Marshall Sir Anthony Cecil Hogmanay Melchett, was finally assembled and made available. Commander Dunbar-Naismith was in charge of the transports.

The Commander was a member of the ‘Old Guard’ and a man known for his tactical knowledge. It was doubtful he looked forward to ‘babysitting’ live cargo for the next few years. But this was the command given to him and he had to do the best he could with what he was given.

That morning the 1st and the 2nd Artillery Brigades was loaded onto the ships and the Commander was ordered to take his passengers to the port of Alexandria.

While on its way to delivering the artillery units the Queen Mary Flotilla passed the Italian controlled port of Tobruch. They reported that the port had little to no activity for its size. There Italian Navy had ships there but nowhere near enough numbers to be a threat to the Mediterranean Fleet.

On the 20th the artillery units were finally delivered to the port of Alexandria. The 8th Infantry was given the 2nd Artillery and the 7th Infantry was given the 1st Artillery.

Once the Queen Mary Flotilla had taken on fresh water, food, and fuel, it was ordered to return to Plymouth.

On the 22nd the 100th Infantry Divisions, the garrison unit, was finally assembled and deployed to Plymouth.

The man the Field Marshall had selected for the unit was Major General Johnson. Johnson was known for being part of the ‘Old Guard’ and skilled at defensive tactics. Of course, after being given his command, he went to the Officer’s Mess to meet up with Major General Blackadder.

The Officer’s Mess in Plymouth was well stocked and very British. The wall was covered with photos from the past wars as well as dozens of Naval items as decor. The two men chatted about their experience in the Great War and their peace time life afterwards.

They also enjoyed a few cocktails knowing that they would unlikely find such skilled bartenders in foreign lands.

“What are your men equipped with?” asked Blackadder as he sipped his French 75.

Johnson sighed. “War surplus. 1914 rifles, Vickers, and our anti-tank weapon is a sticky grenade.”

“I doubt you have to worry about tanks,” pointed out Blackadder as he gestured to the waiter for another fresh pair of cocktails. “You’re going to Malta. Hard to invade a island with armoured divisions. Also you have a artillery brigade with the 25 pounder guns backing up your two infantry brigades. Any tanks would be damaged before they got off the beaches.”

“True,” remarked Johnson with a hopeful smile at that fact. Or was it the promise of a fresh round of cocktails?

As the two men enjoyed their fresh cocktails Lt. General Liddell entered the Officer’s Mess and approached their table.

“At ease gentlemen,” stated the man before they could react. “Just here to tell you, Blackadder, that the Dominion Monarch Flotilla is going to be ready for your division tomorrow. So I figured this would a good time to join you for that drink we agreed on.” He turned to the waiter and added, “A Hanky Panky please.”

So the three men enjoyed their drinks and informal conversation will past midnight.

When on the morning of the 23rd Blackadder arrived at the transports a tad behind the arrival of his 6th Infantry. When he went up the ramp to his assigned transport ship Commander Evans was there to greet.

“Rough time last night, eh?” said the Commander with a big grin after the salutes and whistle blowing was done. “Well, I don’t blame you. At least I can offer you one of the better cabins on the ship and some of the best food during the trip.”

“Thank you Commander,” as he tried to stay out of the sunlight.

The Dominion Monarch Flotilla, once the division was all aboard, started off on its journey to El Iskandariya.

Blackadder found his cabin more than acceptable. On the other hand anyplace Blackadder could sleep that didn’t have rats, fleas, and bombs falling on him was acceptable.

And having his meals at the ‘Captain’s’ table with the Commander and his officers was also a treat. It was nice to have a clean napkin on his lap, to use proper silverware, and eat well prepared meals while in uniform.

On the afternoon of the 24th the Dominion Monarch, going south past the coast of Portugal, passed the Queen Mary Flotilla heading back north to pick up the garrison division.

On the 25th, shortly after lunch, the Commander announced that the Flotilla was passing through the Gibralter Strait.

Back in Plymouth, on the morning of the 26th, the Queen May Flotilla had arrived and had started loading up the 100th Infantry Division and their artillery weapons. They did such a good job that by the evening of the same day the Flotilla was prepared to start its trip to Malta.

On the morning of the 29th the Dominion Monarch Flotilla reached the port of El Iskandariya and started to unload the 6th Infantry Division.

As Blackadder watched from the docks, with his staff, he heard a voice behind him ask, “Major General Edmund Blackadder?”

Blackadder turned and instantly saluted. “Sir, reporting for duty, sir.”

Lieutenant General Gowrie returned with a half-hearted salute, “At ease Blackadder.” He gestured to a car behind him. It was a green colored vehicle that was at least ten years old and had seen better days. It screamed military. “I brought my car to take you to the HQ. I am sure your staff will get your men in order.”

“Thank you sir,” replied Blackadder crisply. He wasn’t sure if this Gowrie was related to Lord Gowrie but he didn’t to take the chance and insult such a powerful family.

“Welcome to the port of Alexandria. You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy,” remarked the Lt. General as he guided Blackadder towards his car. The driver was already ready with the doors open for them.

As they entered the car Blackadder’s impression of the automobile improved slightly. The seats had been replaced recently and the sides had been reinforced with steel. There was even a few pistols attached to the back of the front seat. It seemed Gowrie took his security very seriously!

“I hear you are a old friend of the Field Marshall?” said the Lt. General as he tapped on the front seat and the driver started the engine.

“We knew each other in the 'War' sir,” replied Blackadder.

“Well, I hate to tell you this but you are going to be far too busy in Alexandria to visit you old friend in Cairo,” stated Gowrie with a shake of his head as the driver tried to move the car through the crowded docks.

“Oh how unfortunate,” responded Blackadder with a sad face.

Once the 6th Infantry Division was unloaded the Dominion Monarch was ordered back to Plymouth.

Around the same time the Queen Mary Flotilla was slipping through the Strait of Gibraltar on their way to Malta.

On the 31st the Queen Mary made it to Malta and the 100th Infantry Division started to disembark. As Maj. General Johnson took command of the island he renamed his unit the Malta Garrison.

As this was happening back in Cairo Captain Malek had approached the Field Marshall while he was still dealing with his ‘lunch’ hang over.

“Wot?” remarked the Field Marshall as he looked at his watch. “Is it tea time yet?”

“No sir, I just have a request.”

“Out with it,” said the Field Marshall as he rubbed his pounding forehead.

“Well, sir,” continued the Captain, “I was thinking that, instead of sending the Malta Command to Jerusalem, we could send it to Alexandria to help in the city’s defenses when the Italians come.”

“Yes, yes,” responded the Field Marshall. “Now get out till tea time. I…er..have reports to go over.”

The Captain saluted the Field Marshall, closed the office door silently, and sent off the Malta Command’s new orders.

So on the evening of the 31st of May the Queen Mary Flotilla was told to take the old Malta Command to El Iskandariya.

During the month the government did make a few announcements about economics and science but the Captain kept this reports to himself as he knew the Field Marshall cared nothing for such news. New technology and modern ideas seemed to threaten the man.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------​

Author’s Notes:

The 1930s was called the ‘Golden Age of the Cocktail’ and @El Pip will be happy to hear that neither of those drinks had Bourbon whiskey in them.

 

[nuclearslurpee]

Chapter Eleven

As this AAR has started scarcely a week ago, I must formally object to this strenuous pace. I am sure my objections will be seconded by the readAARship.

“What are your men equipped with?” asked Blackadder as he sipped his French 75.

He turned to the waiter and added, “A Hanky Panky please.”

If we must drink gin cocktails, we ought to at least have an RAF man pop in and order an Aviation. I am not sure how contemporary this would be in Plymouth, certainly the drink had been invented by then but whether it had made it across the pond I couldn't say, but as it is really the only cocktail that makes gin tolerable it deserves a spotlight.

“I hear you are a old friend of the Field Marshall?” said the Lt. General as he tapped on the front seat and the driver started the engine.

“We knew each other in the 'War' sir,” replied Blackadder.

“Well, I hate to tell you this but you are going to be far too busy in Alexandria to visit you old friend in Cairo,” stated Gowrie with a shake of his head as the driver tried to move the car through the crowded docks.

“Oh how unfortunate,” responded Blackadder with a sad face.

Clearly had there not been a threat of war the man could have been an accomplished stage actor.

Author’s Notes:

The 1930s was called the ‘Golden Age of the Cocktail’ and @El Pip will be happy to hear that neither of those drinks had Bourbon whiskey in them.

Here in the states it was really the '20s that marked the 'Golden Age', since in the '30s we had...uhhh, Prohibition, way to go America.

Meanwhile as the local American whiskey advocate (here I defer to the local spelling rather than taking any position on the matter) I must agitate for the inclusion of whiskey cocktails, surely a Sidecar cannot be out of place though a proper Manhattan may be a stretch. Not all British officers can be so intolerant of good taste after all.

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

If we must drink gin cocktails,

There is no other kind in the british empire.
Vodka was toxic to drink at this time, and whiskey was drank straight or with water.

Meanwhile, gin and tonic became the thing that kept many imperialists alive in Africa for various reasons, and pretty much everywhere the drink of choice for the gentleman was either gin something something or whiskey and water. And it was generally scotch, because there was always a Scotsmen around with bottles of the stuff.