August Derleth, I believe. I might not agree with his vision of the Cthulhu Mythos, but there's no denying he wrote up some memorable horrors.
-
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.
Great updates.
So British are going to war. Do they have enough army to make difference? I think their navy would make impact but how big is their army?
Duhrn wants more police power for himself?
So British are going to war. Do they have enough army to make difference? I think their navy would make impact but how big is their army?
Duhrn wants more police power for himself?
Duhrn's star is till rising. If he survives the conflict with Fu Manchu, he will be real trouble.
I have now catched up, Yog. A great set of updates, old friend! 
Very entertaining to see the villainous Duhrn worming his way toward the heights of power...
Very entertaining to see the villainous Duhrn worming his way toward the heights of power...
Wow.
Durhn is one evil bastard. It's scary that he makes the rest of the Nazis look tame in comparison. Terrific writing as usual, Yogi.
Durhn is one evil bastard. It's scary that he makes the rest of the Nazis look tame in comparison. Terrific writing as usual, Yogi.
How about another update? It's been a month today.
I know you have been researching for "Into the dark country", but we would appreciate an update here, too.
Btw, I've finally gotten around to bringing the pdf of this AAR up to date, it's at the usual address.
I know you have been researching for "Into the dark country", but we would appreciate an update here, too.
Btw, I've finally gotten around to bringing the pdf of this AAR up to date, it's at the usual address.
seboden said:How about another update? It's been a month today.
I know you have been researching for "Into the dark country", but we would appreciate an update here, too.
Btw, I've finally gotten around to bringing the pdf of this AAR up to date, it's at the usual address.
Sorry about that guys - I was finally almost done with "Into the dark country" and so wanted to get it done and over with.
An update is actually more than half done, but there the "must have another one" rule and then, what's worse - Mount & Blade v1.0 is coming out today...
No, seriously, I'll try to get one published ASAP. Whenever that is.
o Thanks for updating the PDF!
Thank you all for your patience! Here finally is the update you have been waiting for, in which we return to Indiana Jones and his misfortunes on the American Front. Next we'll be going with Bond and Fah Lo Suee to the Dutch East Indies. Enjoy!
Last Chance
Colorado, United States of America
Monday, August 11th 1940
‘Captain Jones! Captain Jones, Sir! Wake up please!’
Indy bolted upright, scared out of his wits and instantly awake. He had no idea what time it was, but inside his tent it was pitch black.
‘Telly! What’s going on!?’
There was tension in the seriousminded young lieutenant’s voice. ‘One of the pickets heard something out there. I stayed with him for a little while, and I heard it too.’
‘Heard what?’ Indy asked while rubbing his face to wake up properly.
‘I think… I think they’re creeping up on us, Sir. The enemy. There were scraping sounds, and muffled sounds of metal. All very low, almost inaudible but still…’
‘Jesus, you’re right! Tell me you woke up the men!’
‘I did wake up a few on my way to you, Sir, told them to wake up the others.’
‘Well done, Telly! Wait a second while I contact Battallion, OK?’
Indy lifted the receiver of the phone connecting him by cable to the battalion and brigade HQs. ‘The is B company. We have a suspected infiltration attempt in our sector.’
‘Very well, B-company. We’ll have the battalion mortars standing by to support you.’
‘Thank you, battalion. B-company out.’
He put on his British style steel helmet and picked up his M1 rifle on the way out of the tent. It stood in a squarish dug-out connected to the main trench by a short connecting passage. Because there was very little wood around, it had not been possible to build proper log bunkers for the men to sleep in, like in the trenches of the Great War, but Indy had drawn on his knowledge of XV century fortification architecture to improvise the sunken tents, which would be good protection against enemy artillery, provided it didn’t fall too close.
He found the trenches lined with very scared, very young men, the whites of their eyes shinging huge in the face of each. They had deployed to their firing positions rather quietly and efficiently. He was surprised at that. He had none to high opinion on their qualities as soldiers.
‘You’re doing fine, boys!’ he whispered. ‘Now, repeat down the line: Machine guns, report!’
The answer was whispered down the line within moments. ‘Ready to rumble, Cap’n!’
He didn’t enquire about the anti-tank rifles, since clearly tanks were nowhere near their position, or they would have been heard long ago. He hoped to God he would never find out how effective they would be against Pan-Asian tanks.
‘Field telephone? I want to be able to call for artillery at short notice!’
‘Right here Captain!’
‘All right then. Stand by for flare, repeat!’
From a second pistol holster slung on his back, Indy produced his 8 gauge flare gun. Remembering Jericho Jones use of such a weapon, he had taken to carrying it loaded with a shotgun shell of equivalent calibre. He now broke open the gun and removed the shotgun shell, replacing it with a standard issue flare shell. With skills honed in another war, he aimed the stubby gun heavenwards and pulled the trigger. The flare shot up and bathed the barren landscape in a cold, actinic and flickering light.
Immeditately, a multitude of dark lumps dotting the landscape became visible. Clearly visible in the cold, white light of the flare, they remained unmoving, like a mouse freezing when the light is turned on in a room. Then Indy shouted “Fire!” and the American line lit up, a solid line of muzzle flashes stretching from one end of the company sector to the other. M1 Garand rifles barked in a frenzied staccato. .50 cal Maxim machine guns poured out beams of brightly shining tracer rounds. The lumps rose to their feet, suddenly turning into a host of Pan-Asian soldiers, at least a battalion as far as Indy could tell at a glance. Screaming savage war cries they charged the American trenches, mindless of the slaughter inflicted on them.
Indy picked up the field telephone, which was wired directly to the supporting mortar company.
‘This is B company, fire mission, execute Defensive 1!’
Indy had worked out pre-arranged fire missions with the mortar company captain so that fire support could be delivered with a minimum of delay. Defensive 1 called for a barrage landing just in front of the B-company main trench line.
Within instants, mortar shells began landing among the advancing Pan-Asian troops. The explosions didn’t look like much, but each sent out thousands of pieces of shrapnel, cutting down the advancing Pan-Asians like invisible scythes. They were dying by the dozens for each step, and still they kept coming – but not for long. Indy had feared that the Pan-Asians would be high on the Soul of the Dragon drug, but by all reports it wasn’t widely used in the American theatre. Perhaps it was because it was too taxing on the health of the troops, which were not as easy to replace with masses of new conscripts like in the Sino-Japanese war. That might also be the reason why the Jade Fever hadn’t been used at all. Even though the Americans possessed plentiful supplies of the antidote developed by Dr Jonas Salk, the disease could have wreaked havoc with all non-military personel and stretched medical services to the breaking point. But the Pan-Asian antidote came included with the Soul of The Dragon drug, and if they didn’t want to use that, then their troops were open to infection by the Jade Fever. Whatever the reason, it was clear that the attacking troops were not doped up on the Soul of the Dragon. Dragon-heads just kept coming, no matter what, even if partially shot to pieces. But under the hammer of mortars, machineguns and plentifull, if not terribly accurate rifle fire, the Pan-Asians finally faltered and fell back, leaving a large share of their numbers on the ground.
‘Cease fire! Cease fire!’ Indy shouted as the backs of the enemy began to merge back into the darkness. He was painfully aware that ammunition stocks were not what they should be. The firing died out gradually, with some of the nervous young men shooting off a few more rounds for good measure.
Then a few of the fallen Pan-Asians rose slowly, hands held high. One was immediately felled by a lone shot, but the others remained standing.
‘Cease fire, damn you!’ Indy shouted, white with fury. Men under his command were slaughtering surrendering foes, and he wouldn’t have it. Taken aback by his rage, the battle-crazed youths of his command lowered their weapons.
‘We accept your surrender! Come forward slowly with your hands held high!’ Indy shouted in Japanese, and then repeated the same in Mandarin and Cantonese.
One of the prisoners didn’t comply fully. Instead he sprinted forward shouting ‘Dr Jones! Dr Jones!’ in English at the top of his lungs.
‘That fool may know you, but he’s going to get himself killed!’ Telly breathed.
‘Hold your fire! Hold your fire!’ Indy screamed at the top of his lungs, horrified both because he throught he knew who the crazy Pan-Asian was, and because he knew what the reaction of his men would be to the sprinting enemy.
Too late. Perhaps the green young recruits had been spooked by the urgency in their Captain’s voice. A shot rang out, then another.
‘Cease fire! Cease fire! Cease fire!’ Indy shouted desperately. The crazy Pan-Asian stopped, covering his face with his hand, wheter hit or just frightened out of his wits was unclear. Then he stretched out his hands imploringly toward the American trenches. There was no mistaking the anguish in those young Asian features.
‘Dr Jones, please, help me! It’s me!’
‘Short Round!’ Indy screamed at the top of his lungs and jumped straight out of the trench. Before the amazed eyes of his troops, Captain Henry Jones Jr ran like a madman towards the Pan-Asian soldier and grabbed him in a bear hug.
‘Don’t worry, son, it’ll be all right now. Come with me!’ he whispered, hardly believing what was plain to see – the ungainly youth in his arms was his associate from the days he had spent in China in the mid 30s, who had gone by the nom-de-guerre Short Round.
The other Pan-Asian soldiers looked at the two in puzzlement too, but followed them towards the American trenches, stepping over the bodies of their fallen foes.
‘Short Round! I can’t believe it!’ Indy whispered, blinking away the tears in his eyes. ‘What are you doing here? You got drafted? You’re only a child!’
‘I’m sixteen, Dr Jones!’ the boy protested. ‘No father, no mother, no family – I get called up this summer and sent here. I hope to find you, but didn’t expect too. Very, very good to see you, Dr Jones!’
‘You too, kid!’
‘Dr Jones, not good you stay here. We probe your defences before big push. Whole army come through here soon! You go someplace else!’
That sounded like good advice, Indy thought glumly. Unfortunately, that wasn’t his choice to make any more. When the big push came, he would be right here to welcome the invaders.
Colorado, United States of America
Monday, August 11th 1940
‘Captain Jones! Captain Jones, Sir! Wake up please!’
Indy bolted upright, scared out of his wits and instantly awake. He had no idea what time it was, but inside his tent it was pitch black.
‘Telly! What’s going on!?’
There was tension in the seriousminded young lieutenant’s voice. ‘One of the pickets heard something out there. I stayed with him for a little while, and I heard it too.’
‘Heard what?’ Indy asked while rubbing his face to wake up properly.
‘I think… I think they’re creeping up on us, Sir. The enemy. There were scraping sounds, and muffled sounds of metal. All very low, almost inaudible but still…’
‘Jesus, you’re right! Tell me you woke up the men!’
‘I did wake up a few on my way to you, Sir, told them to wake up the others.’
‘Well done, Telly! Wait a second while I contact Battallion, OK?’
Indy lifted the receiver of the phone connecting him by cable to the battalion and brigade HQs. ‘The is B company. We have a suspected infiltration attempt in our sector.’
‘Very well, B-company. We’ll have the battalion mortars standing by to support you.’
‘Thank you, battalion. B-company out.’
He put on his British style steel helmet and picked up his M1 rifle on the way out of the tent. It stood in a squarish dug-out connected to the main trench by a short connecting passage. Because there was very little wood around, it had not been possible to build proper log bunkers for the men to sleep in, like in the trenches of the Great War, but Indy had drawn on his knowledge of XV century fortification architecture to improvise the sunken tents, which would be good protection against enemy artillery, provided it didn’t fall too close.
He found the trenches lined with very scared, very young men, the whites of their eyes shinging huge in the face of each. They had deployed to their firing positions rather quietly and efficiently. He was surprised at that. He had none to high opinion on their qualities as soldiers.
‘You’re doing fine, boys!’ he whispered. ‘Now, repeat down the line: Machine guns, report!’
The answer was whispered down the line within moments. ‘Ready to rumble, Cap’n!’
He didn’t enquire about the anti-tank rifles, since clearly tanks were nowhere near their position, or they would have been heard long ago. He hoped to God he would never find out how effective they would be against Pan-Asian tanks.
‘Field telephone? I want to be able to call for artillery at short notice!’
‘Right here Captain!’
‘All right then. Stand by for flare, repeat!’
From a second pistol holster slung on his back, Indy produced his 8 gauge flare gun. Remembering Jericho Jones use of such a weapon, he had taken to carrying it loaded with a shotgun shell of equivalent calibre. He now broke open the gun and removed the shotgun shell, replacing it with a standard issue flare shell. With skills honed in another war, he aimed the stubby gun heavenwards and pulled the trigger. The flare shot up and bathed the barren landscape in a cold, actinic and flickering light.
Immeditately, a multitude of dark lumps dotting the landscape became visible. Clearly visible in the cold, white light of the flare, they remained unmoving, like a mouse freezing when the light is turned on in a room. Then Indy shouted “Fire!” and the American line lit up, a solid line of muzzle flashes stretching from one end of the company sector to the other. M1 Garand rifles barked in a frenzied staccato. .50 cal Maxim machine guns poured out beams of brightly shining tracer rounds. The lumps rose to their feet, suddenly turning into a host of Pan-Asian soldiers, at least a battalion as far as Indy could tell at a glance. Screaming savage war cries they charged the American trenches, mindless of the slaughter inflicted on them.
Indy picked up the field telephone, which was wired directly to the supporting mortar company.
‘This is B company, fire mission, execute Defensive 1!’
Indy had worked out pre-arranged fire missions with the mortar company captain so that fire support could be delivered with a minimum of delay. Defensive 1 called for a barrage landing just in front of the B-company main trench line.
Within instants, mortar shells began landing among the advancing Pan-Asian troops. The explosions didn’t look like much, but each sent out thousands of pieces of shrapnel, cutting down the advancing Pan-Asians like invisible scythes. They were dying by the dozens for each step, and still they kept coming – but not for long. Indy had feared that the Pan-Asians would be high on the Soul of the Dragon drug, but by all reports it wasn’t widely used in the American theatre. Perhaps it was because it was too taxing on the health of the troops, which were not as easy to replace with masses of new conscripts like in the Sino-Japanese war. That might also be the reason why the Jade Fever hadn’t been used at all. Even though the Americans possessed plentiful supplies of the antidote developed by Dr Jonas Salk, the disease could have wreaked havoc with all non-military personel and stretched medical services to the breaking point. But the Pan-Asian antidote came included with the Soul of The Dragon drug, and if they didn’t want to use that, then their troops were open to infection by the Jade Fever. Whatever the reason, it was clear that the attacking troops were not doped up on the Soul of the Dragon. Dragon-heads just kept coming, no matter what, even if partially shot to pieces. But under the hammer of mortars, machineguns and plentifull, if not terribly accurate rifle fire, the Pan-Asians finally faltered and fell back, leaving a large share of their numbers on the ground.
‘Cease fire! Cease fire!’ Indy shouted as the backs of the enemy began to merge back into the darkness. He was painfully aware that ammunition stocks were not what they should be. The firing died out gradually, with some of the nervous young men shooting off a few more rounds for good measure.
Then a few of the fallen Pan-Asians rose slowly, hands held high. One was immediately felled by a lone shot, but the others remained standing.
‘Cease fire, damn you!’ Indy shouted, white with fury. Men under his command were slaughtering surrendering foes, and he wouldn’t have it. Taken aback by his rage, the battle-crazed youths of his command lowered their weapons.
‘We accept your surrender! Come forward slowly with your hands held high!’ Indy shouted in Japanese, and then repeated the same in Mandarin and Cantonese.
One of the prisoners didn’t comply fully. Instead he sprinted forward shouting ‘Dr Jones! Dr Jones!’ in English at the top of his lungs.
‘That fool may know you, but he’s going to get himself killed!’ Telly breathed.
‘Hold your fire! Hold your fire!’ Indy screamed at the top of his lungs, horrified both because he throught he knew who the crazy Pan-Asian was, and because he knew what the reaction of his men would be to the sprinting enemy.
Too late. Perhaps the green young recruits had been spooked by the urgency in their Captain’s voice. A shot rang out, then another.
‘Cease fire! Cease fire! Cease fire!’ Indy shouted desperately. The crazy Pan-Asian stopped, covering his face with his hand, wheter hit or just frightened out of his wits was unclear. Then he stretched out his hands imploringly toward the American trenches. There was no mistaking the anguish in those young Asian features.
‘Dr Jones, please, help me! It’s me!’
‘Short Round!’ Indy screamed at the top of his lungs and jumped straight out of the trench. Before the amazed eyes of his troops, Captain Henry Jones Jr ran like a madman towards the Pan-Asian soldier and grabbed him in a bear hug.
‘Don’t worry, son, it’ll be all right now. Come with me!’ he whispered, hardly believing what was plain to see – the ungainly youth in his arms was his associate from the days he had spent in China in the mid 30s, who had gone by the nom-de-guerre Short Round.
The other Pan-Asian soldiers looked at the two in puzzlement too, but followed them towards the American trenches, stepping over the bodies of their fallen foes.
‘Short Round! I can’t believe it!’ Indy whispered, blinking away the tears in his eyes. ‘What are you doing here? You got drafted? You’re only a child!’
‘I’m sixteen, Dr Jones!’ the boy protested. ‘No father, no mother, no family – I get called up this summer and sent here. I hope to find you, but didn’t expect too. Very, very good to see you, Dr Jones!’
‘You too, kid!’
‘Dr Jones, not good you stay here. We probe your defences before big push. Whole army come through here soon! You go someplace else!’
That sounded like good advice, Indy thought glumly. Unfortunately, that wasn’t his choice to make any more. When the big push came, he would be right here to welcome the invaders.
Last edited:
About time we saw what Indy was getting up to. And Short Round! I didn't expect him to show up anywhere.
Nice double post. Trying to inflate your postcount?
And Short Round! I didn't expect him to show up anywhere.Nice double post. Trying to inflate your postcount?
Short Round's appearance should help lift Indy's spirits, at least for a time.
He has probably been hypnotized into a sleeper death assassin or something by Fu or his people. SR's appearance is too coincidental and his connections with Indy; and by extension Nayland Smith and Fah lo Sue, are probably too well known.
He has probably been hypnotized into a sleeper death assassin or something by Fu or his people. SR's appearance is too coincidental and his connections with Indy; and by extension Nayland Smith and Fah lo Sue, are probably too well known.
Re: Antitank rifles
AT rifles should be reasonably effective against Pan-Asian armor, though I wouldn't bet on them penetrating the front armor.
Where do the AT rifles come from? I don't know of any American-made AT rifles from that era; we went pretty much straight from 'no antitank weapon' to '.50 caliber machine gun.' And the Ma Deuce, while functional as an antitank rifle, was fully automatic, which makes it a very different animal.
Also, they'd have to know that Short Round was Indy's sidekick back in the mid-1930s, and be able to find him. Not easy.
I think this is just blind chance.
AT rifles should be reasonably effective against Pan-Asian armor, though I wouldn't bet on them penetrating the front armor.
Where do the AT rifles come from? I don't know of any American-made AT rifles from that era; we went pretty much straight from 'no antitank weapon' to '.50 caliber machine gun.' And the Ma Deuce, while functional as an antitank rifle, was fully automatic, which makes it a very different animal.
But unless Fu's people have extensive information on Jones, they won't know where he's stationed in the chaos of the mobilization. It's not as if "Henry Jones" is an uncommon name.Dinglehoff said:
Also, they'd have to know that Short Round was Indy's sidekick back in the mid-1930s, and be able to find him. Not easy.
I think this is just blind chance.
Simon_Jester said:
USMC used Boys AT rifles against the Japanese in our timeline simply because they worked. Believe that 2 years earlier they would be even more effective.
Simon_Jester said:
Derek Pullem said:
The anti-tank rifles are Polish in origin. Much of the military aid sent by Germany to the United States was originally captured equipment from Poland, Norway, Belgium and France. In later shipments, there has been a lot of Russian captured weaponry. The two anti-tank rifles assigned to Indy's company are 7,92 mm Model 35. These were capable of holing a Pz-IIIe frontally at up to 100m (33mm sloped at 30°). A Pan-Asian Type 97 had a maximum armour thickness of 25mm according to my printed sources and 33mm acording to net sources - I would guess the latter to be pertinent to the improved 1940 version.
Hooray a new update!!
It's certainly an extremely unlikely occurrence, running into someone you knew waaay back in time, but it happens every now and then. A friend of mine, while on student exchange to the California (from Germany), bumped into a former classmate whom she had not met since primary school, in a burger restaurant in Bakersville, CA. THAT was unlikely, but it happened.
As for the antitank rifles, does anyone else find it ironic that in this story, it's the USA, fighting for their survival, who receive Soviet equipment as lend-lease shipments? Rather than the other way round, although the Soviets, too, are fighting for their survival.
Splendid, my dear Yogi, splendid!!! Please give us more.
It's certainly an extremely unlikely occurrence, running into someone you knew waaay back in time, but it happens every now and then. A friend of mine, while on student exchange to the California (from Germany), bumped into a former classmate whom she had not met since primary school, in a burger restaurant in Bakersville, CA. THAT was unlikely, but it happened.
As for the antitank rifles, does anyone else find it ironic that in this story, it's the USA, fighting for their survival, who receive Soviet equipment as lend-lease shipments?
Rather than the other way round, although the Soviets, too, are fighting for their survival.Splendid, my dear Yogi, splendid!!! Please give us more.
Wow yogi I have just caught up but amazing, even though I know I am missing of lot of what you reference and draw from.