The following events took place June 1st, 1946, 120 kilometres South of Bonavista Bay, North-Atlantic
“All engines, full speed ahead! This bastard isn’t getting away this time!”
“Aye Cap’n!” Several deckhands ran off to the machine room carrying hastily scribbled instructions for attack manoeuvres on the 7th Fleet. Sommerville did not have long to ponder on his new set of orders, though, as another tremendous explosion rocked the HMS Mogadishu. Luckily, the girl was one of the best armoured ships in the fleet, and could withstand a beating. Without stopping, the Mogadishu sped through enemy formations, shrugging off frontal battleship blasts while returning fire of her own with several on-board cannons. In between the towering ships, entire squadrons of Pact aircraft were holding a life-or-death struggle with their AOF counterparts. On the deck, the horrible screaming sounds of their jets as the rocket aircraft roared past cut into the ears of all who could hear them, and terrified their American adversaries. A third blast shocked the bridge, knocking over tons of equipment while blasting off part of the Mogadishu's flight deck.
“Goddamnit!” Sommerville yelled “Get some repair teams there pronto!”
A third bridge hand appeared, shouting “Yes Cap’n!” before diving into a heavily destroyed door, blown off it’s hinges by the punishment the carrier was receiving. At the moment, over five US Battleships were firing their massive cannons upon the gargantuan Mogadishu, whose impenetrable armour allowed the carrier to survive the horrible beating she was receiving. Sommerville crawled up after being knocked down by another explosion, and grabbed his binoculars. In the distance, he could clearly see the United States Navy capital ship: the USS Enterprise, steered by none other than Grand Admiral Nimitz. The Enterprise was a pinnacle of modern technology, able to carry more aircraft than any British carrier, and almost double the size of a standard US carrier. These unbelievable features, though, came at a cost: The USS Enterprise was only lightly armoured and thus very vulnerable to torpedo bomber fire. In this battle, the RN’s only hope for victory was Sommerville’s daring tactic to punch through the American formation and reach the Enterprise, after which he would release all of the Mogadishu’s bombers and take the carrier out, dealing a heavy blow to American morale.
At this point, over seven heavily armoured Carriers bashed their way through entire lines of American battleships, sailing through storms of fire while pillars of smoke caused aircraft to collide and crash against the ships, heavy dogfighting taking place all around the ship.
A few kilometres away, a lieutenant by the name of Johnson entered the bridge.
“Sir?”
Grand Admiral Nimitz, who had been observing the heavy fighting going on around their battleship formations, turned around “Yes?”
“We have word from the Lexington. The British are indeed trying to punch through and destroy our ship, sir.”
Nimitz grinned “Excellent. Just as we had expected.”
Without further ado, the Grand Admiral grabbed hold of his microphone and contacted all channels.
“This is your captain speaking. British fleets are headed this way. All craft in the air, I repeat, all craft in the air. Commence full-scale attack. Board gunners, fire at will. Battle stations.”
Nimitz turned around, grinning “Let’s lure them here then.”
“Yes sir. Should I contact the Roosevelt and the Dewey?”
Nimitz shook his head. “Not yet, keep them behind us and order them to engage only when I give green lights.”
“Yes sir, I’ll get the message through.”
The US Grand Admiral turned back towards the spectacular battle raging on before them. He rubbed his hands. Sommerville had humiliated him in the battle for Newfoundland a year ago, but he would not come out as lucky this time around. Sommerville had sworn revenge, and it was revenge he would receive.
High above the USS Nimitz, a single Gloster Meteor II approached the capital ship, hidden in the clouds and thus unnoticeable to the Enterprise's AA installations below. Pilot Miles McCarter was in control of the upgraded scout aircraft, and tasked with flying behind enemy lines in order to point out enemy movements and radio them through to the Mogadishu. In awe, he observed as the British titans continued to punch their way through lines of Battleships, while relentlessly pursued by enemy bombers. Several British cruisers had already been sunk by the powerful Battleships, yet the carriers seemed capable of shrugging off blow after blow. The Order of the British Empire had truly done a masterful job with the Kilimanjaro-class. Miles wiped the sweat off his forehead, and continued his lookout through the glass cockpit of his Meteor, observing the USS Nimitz. He grabbed his radio and flicked a few switches.
“*krrr* This is Africa Prime, Rep*krrr* Africa Prime.” The radio line with the Mogadishu had been heavily damaged, and even from here Miles could see part of the Ship’s bridge crushed, taking out several antenna’s.
“Africa Prime, this is Baller, repeat Baller. Hive queen is releasing the bees. I repeat, hive queen is releasing the bees. Be braced for action.” Miles looked down and observed as a thick cloud of fighter aircraft ascended from the Enterprise's flight deck, headed towards the British carriers.
“*krrrr* Copy that, Baller, we’ll be ready for them. *krrr* Africa Pr*krrr*, Over and out.”
In the distance, several more explosions resounded through the air, subtly shaking the glass of Miles’ cockpit. The pilot sighed and pushed the throttle, sending his plane downwards for a closer look of the carrier.
Back on the USS Enterprise, Grand Admiral Nimitz was sending out radio messages and new orders to his fleet. In the distance, pillars of smoke rose up from the heavy fighting, the roaring engines of jet fighters clearly audible, even at this range.
“Battle-group 1, switch to bearing 55 44 6 high speed. Battle-group 2, switch to bearing 44 7 5 medium speed. Concentrate all fire on their flanks. All carriers, I want all craft in the air and...” Nimitz stopped as he saw one of his spotters enter the bridge. “That is all” Nimitz shut off the radio.
“Sir, they’ve broken through.”
“The carriers?”
“Yes. This is the time to strike, they will be in range...” the spotter took a look at his watch “ETA five minutes.”
“Excellent.” Nimitz turned to one of his radiomen “Get me the Dewey and the Roosevelt.”
To his right, three engineers nodded and began frantically flicking switches and attaching wires. After a few minutes, the connection was up, and his radioman gestured to Nimitz that he was good to go.
“USS Roosevelt and USS Dewey, this is the USS Enterprise, do you copy?”
After a short silence, the creaking radio came to life.
“USS Dewey reporting.”
“USS Roosevelt reporting.”
“It’s your turn to shine boys. I order all Presidential-Class to attack. Repeat, weapons hot.”
“Aye sir. Rules of engagement?”
“Let none survive.”
“Cope that Admiral. Presidential-Class, move out!”
Nimitz put down the microphone and looked back at the seven British carriers headed their way. Let them come, he thought. They’ll walk right into our trap.
High above them, pilot Miles noticed something out of the ordinary while sweeping over the corridor. He grabbed hold of the steering wheel and made a 180 for another survey of the area surrounding the carrier. In disbelief, Miles looked down at what was occurring below him.
“What the hell?”
Instinctively, he reached for the radio.
“Africa Prime, this is Baller. I’m getting some strange readings here.”
“*krrr* Africa Prime. What’s wrong Baller?”
The pilot took a second look at his equipment to make sure he wasn’t mistaking.
“I just saw 6 small ships appear from below the carrier. They look like destroyers, but the equipment I’m spotting here is unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”
“We*krr*’re sorry Baller, did you say the ships appeared from below the carrier?”
“Yes, they were hiding under the flight deck, they’re very small and apparently very fast. Sonar’s going crazy right now, I’m not sure what these things are packing but they have some advanced guiding technology on them.”
“Baller, cou*krr* you describe the equipment on the ships?”
The pilot peered through a magnifying glass in the bottom of his cockpit.
“They look very strange. The ships don’t seem to have any cannons or AA installations. Basic depth charge equipment. It looks like some sort of... launch installation.”
“Baller, we understood ‘Launch installation’, can you confirm that?”
“Confirmed. The ships hold some sort of launch installation. I’m also noting large antenna’s and extensive sonar equipment. Africa Prime, something is wrong here. Call off the attack.”
Somewhere at the other end of the line, a radioman turned to Grand Admiral Sommerville who shook his head in response.
“Negative Baller, atta*krr* will continue as planned. Ignore the ships, make attempts at intercepting enemy radio chatter.”
“Copy that Africa Prime. Will continue to monitor. Over and out.”
Miles turned off his radio and switched to interception channels. In the meanwhile, he took the plane back into the clouds for better concealment.
Four days later
The following is a transcript of the debriefing of Lieutenant Miles McCarter, 2nd ‘Eagle-eyes’ Reconnaissance brigade, pilot of the ‘Pelican’ Gloster Meteor II
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“Could you describe the ships, lieutenant?”
“Small. Smaller than destroyers, with a high-rising bridge. Several antennae were visible. Almost no direct attack weaponry. Eight launch platforms on the back of the ship.”
*Lieutenant is clearly nervous. Sweat runs from his forehead and he is breathing heavily.*
“Other debriefs have informed us that you sent a request to Grand Admiral Sommerville, right before the events. What did you ask him?”
“I sensed something was wrong. I requested that he abort the attack.”
“What was his response?.”
“He denied, and pushed on.”
*Several scars are visible on the lieutenant’s face. Interviewer notes that the lieutenant has suffered at least second- to third-degree burns.*
“Could you describe the moments after you broke connection with the Mogadishu?”
“The six ships raced away from the Enterprise at full-speed. I noted high activity on sonar, indicating they were indeed using their guiding equipment.”
“What did you do at this point?”
“I dove back down, to get a clearer look of the ships.”
“Were you aware that diving down would make you visible to AA installations?”
*Lieutenant swallows. It is apparent that he has trouble finding his words*
“Yes. Yet I was ordered to intercept enemy radio communications, and I needed to get into range of their radars to get a hold of their transmissions.”
“Could you describe what happened after that?”
*Lieutenant shows clear signs of anxiety. He grabs hold of his glass of water but does not drink, and shuffles around on chair in discomfort*
“I saw flashing lights. First I thought the ships had engaged their searchlights, but I soon noticed the lights were moving upwards at dazzling speed. There was a smoke trail. I intercepted commands to attack.”
“That’s when you realised the ships were firing missiles?”
*Interviewer grabs hold of a file and spreads out pictures retrieved from other scout ships. They clearly show several US warships firing missiles*
“Could you describe the missiles?”
“They were arcing. I remember seeing them fly high up into the air. Grey smoke trails. Then they came down.”
“That is when the missiles hit the Mogadishu?”
*Lieutenant shows strained symptoms. Observing doctor notes that the lieutenant may suffer from post-traumatic stress*
“A total of five missiles slammed into the Mogadishu. Their aim was perfect. Two took out the bridge, the other three...”
“The other three?”
“Pierced through the carrier deck and hit the ammunitions and fuel depots. Within seconds, a brutal explosion snapped the carrier in half.”
“Can you give any estimates on survivors?”
“I don’t think there were any.”
*Interviewer Shows a picture of the destruction of the Mogadishu. Attached files explain that Sommerville’s body was found drifting off the coast of Newfoundland two days later.*
“Do you have any information on what happened to the rest of the carriers?”
“They were all destroyed. Those... things just kept firing. Their aim was perfect, fully guided. We never stood a chance. The bodies were drifting everywhere. The rest of the fleet was forced to retreat after that.”
“It was at this point that you were spotted?”
“Suddenly, I came under fire. I had no option but to run. Eventually, they shot me down. I remember the horrible sound of my own engine exploding. Seeing the water approach. Then, nothing. I woke up here.”
*Interviewer explains that the lieutenant was found by the command ship HMS Acolyte approximately seven hours after the battle. The lieutenant had been found floating on a broken wing from the Pelican and was severely injured.*
“We understand that you can share more knowledge about these ships?”
“Yes. Before being attacked I intercepted some last messages indicating the class and type of the ship. They call it the ‘Presidential-Class’. The Presidential-Class missile corvette.”
“Thank you for your time. As soon as we port you will be returned to England”
“Thank you.”
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End transcript
Grand Admiral Sommerville would later receive the ‘Martyr of the Channel Pact’ award post-mortem.
The feared ‘Presidential-Class’ Missile Corvette of the USN
The North-Atlantic offensives proved disastrous for Pact Forces. Near Bonavista Bay, an entire British carrier fleet was annihilated, along with several dozens of support units. More to the south, the last German Battleship fleet in the North-Atlantic had bitten the dust. The USN got away with only light losses.
. The only true (full slider) democracy still existing atm is Argentina, ironically. Venezuela, Peru, Bolivia, Peru and Mexico have swayed to PA/NS, Brazil is allmost PA. Siberia and China, our allies, are pretty democratic, China is one slider move into PA, Siberia is a Conservative Democracy close to PA. We are still one PA, will remain so throughout the AAR, although there will be screenshots later on where we are NS, this is because of problems with the poor ministers forcing us to slide back to NS. Fluffwise, just assume were a sort of military autocracy, South-American style Junta stuff
