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Ow man awesome Vulcan video there, much better than any french designs.
awesome video? yes.
better design? :rofl::rofl::rofl: no.
Yes, history does speak for itself, considering how British designs compared to French designs......
Indeed, the Charles de Gualle and the Clemenceau both spring to mind
But in all seriousness, I do recognize the French ability to build beautiful ships. I believe it was Captain Chase in Sharpe's Trafalgar who claimed, "French ships are like French women - well made but hopelessly manned."
I imagine it was quite a nasty shock of the UAPR to see American designs being integrated into the British military. Doubtless they are wondering what other nasty surprises managed to flee across the pond before the iron curtain went up (and how many more have managed to get across anyway),
Indeed, the Charles de Gualle and the Clemenceau both spring to mind
At the moment I'm only refering to ww2 capital ship designs. But anyways, type 22 and French built flying fishes equals?
Well, should I write a different Trafalgar in response of this?
Well, should I write a different Trafalgar in response of this?
And a different Aboukir.
And a different Bailen.
And a different...
Well, I'll stop or you'll spend the rest of your life writting...
Real Men use high explosives.
Real men use sledgehammers, acetylene lamps and then a woodchipper, not fancy longbows with plume-decorated arrows. And then they probably grow grapes over the bloody pulp of their enemies to make a special vintage commemorating their tragic passing away.
And a different Aboukir.
And a different Bailen.
And a different...
Well, I'll stop or you'll spend the rest of your life writting...
And a different Yorktown.
And a different Chesapeake.
Oh wait....
What the hell? What is this Francphilia doing in an Anglophiliac AAR?
Bah, Where's Lord Nelson when you need him...
Bah, Where's Lord Nelson when you need him...
Trust me. The next update will be full of British Intelligence scheming back and forth to confuse the gerries.
Chapter 166
1st July 1941
Century House, London
Admiral Edwards was not a usual resident in Century house, but the NID was working closely together with MI5 and MI6 under the SIS, so it had not been hard to arrange this meeting in this particular Office. In front of him he had two folders. In one was a report on the damages to a certain ship, in the other a report on what Ian had done during the time between him being wounded and him turning up for this meeting. Edwards was intent to seize this opportunity to win Ian back for the NID, since he still believed that this was where his real talents lay, capabilities for sea commands notwithstanding. Soon enough Ian was sitting on the other side of the desk. Both men were too intelligent and had been too long in this kind of work to even try and fool the other. “How's the Arm, Commander?” “Still a bit stiff when it's cold, but improving, thank you, Sir.”
Edwards leaned back and looked at Ian again. “And how's the family?” he asked out of genuine concern. “My wife is tired, I am tired and little Sean finally seems to have settled down, now that the Gerries stay away from the London area.” “I see.” Edwards looked at his reports again, and tried to figure out from which angle to approach this problem. “I see that Severn is a constructive total loss?” “Yes. In peacetime she would probably have been repaired but no on seems to be able to spare a berth for that long, so she has already been stricken.” Ian said with regret evident on his face. “Sooner or later, I will go back to sea, Sir.” Edward ignored the jibe and took another folder from a drawer in the desk. It was thin, but the innards were still potentially dangerous. Ian was technically not cleared any more, but Ewards was willing to take the risk, knowing that Ian would not be able to resist the bait for long. “You know, I could just order you to rejoin the NID, but see it as a professional courtesy that I give you this choice. I do order you however to hear me out. Whatever you do, the strictest secrecy must be maintained. Regulations require me to tell you that what you are about to hear is under the Official Secrets Act, and divulging the information is punishable by death. And with that I can tell you little enough, Commander. What I can tell you though is the principal goal of this operation will be to give false information to the enemy and basically confuse the daylights out Gerry and Ivan. I can't tell you more without reinstating your security clearance, but I can tell you that it is of vital importance. You would be working with all other sections of the SIS here in London, representing the Navy in this special working group.” “For how long would that be, Sir?” “A couple of months at least....” Edwards did not actually say it, but Ian was sharp enough to realize what the Admiral was hinting at. As much as he wanted to do his bit, as much as he wanted to go back to Sea, having a posting here in London meant that he could spent more time with his family, because deep down he knew that Sandra and Sean were the most important things in his life, war or no war. But on the other hand he could not leave the remnants of his crew just hanging in the air, he liked them, he cared for his man like any decent Commander would. It was something he would... No. It was not something he had to think over. God knew when he would have gotten another ship, and the intellectual challenge of Intelligence work was just too tempting to pass up. “When do I start?” he asked. “Three days. I should think you might want to get settled permanently, since I intend to hold onto your special talents.”
In the very early hours of the fourth Ian was again sitting in a non-descript Office after he spent the three days getting settled. Sandra had been overjoyed when he had told her that he would be posted to London, and her radiant smile alone was worth everything he gave up out there. He smiled himself thinking of her disbelieving tentative face when he had told her, and almost missed when he was the door of the Office opened. In came M, Admiral Edwards, several unknown Officers who never talked and whose names Ian never learned. The number of Brass and the secrecy was raising Ian's eyebrows, and what he heard was even more amazing. For the next hour he had to sign various non-disclosure agreements, was reminded of military secrecy and the Official secrets act four times each, drank three cups of tea and was afterwards at last briefed on what he was going to do for a living from now on.
“Commander, you will be part of Operation Fortitude. It's objective is to feed false information to the enemy and distract them from Operation Market Garden. Operation Market Garden is our plan for an Invasion of Italy in October this year. Fortitude has been going on for some time now, and your exact job is it to review the actions so far taken and work with your colleagues to make sure that the enemy does not find out where and when we will strike. There are three parts to Fortitude. One, a fake Invasion of Northern France, termed 'Operation Agincourt', a also false Invasion of Southern France termed Operation Cold Cloud. So far for each we have...” Again, Ian spent an hour listening, although these briefings were much more extensive. Overlord was stillborn for the most part due to the ongoing air attacks on Southern Britain, but Cold Cloud was easy to do. Assets were in the area, so faking them into believing that the target was Southern France was possible, although the Axis could still easily transfer their own assets to Italy. When Ian pointed out as much, Edwards said that the point was not to pin Axis assets in place indefinitely only as long as was needed to ship the Army from Northern Africa to Italy. In the end M asked: “So, Commander, do you think you can handle part of the planing section?” “Yes, Sir!”
Paris, Occupied France
Paris was a good place to assemble the leadership of the Axis Air Forces in France. Good quarters, plenty of good food and spirits, amusement opportunities galore. However, the mood in the palatial quarters of the Elysée Palace was sombre, and Göring knew why. All the Luftwaffe and Red Air Force Airfleet Commanders in France were there, and listened to a rant by 'Old Fatty' that would have done the Führer proud. Göring ranted on about being betrayed, directing this against his fighter pilots. That day, 4th July 1941, later to be known as 'Battle of Britain Day' the Axis Air Forces launched a last desperate onslaught, in a last attempt to overwhelm the British. Close to a thousand Axis Bombers, escorted by a cloud of fighters rose that day, intent on smashing British morale. Fighter Command rose to the challenge. Seven-Hundred operational Spitfires and Typhoons rose. There were no reserves. Every operational Fighter Aircraft that existed in Britain at the time rose to defend against air attacks that came from everywhere. Soviet and Czech Bombers sneaked in over the North Sea, German and Soviet Bombers hammered the RAF infrastructure, roads and opportunity targets. Furious Air Battles raged for hours. British pilots landed, refueled, rearmed and went up again without ever leaving their planes, British pilots ejected from their aircraft, ran to the next airfield and took the next operational plane they could find. The Axis Air Forces suffered losses that were disproportionate to those suffered by the British. More than two-hundred Axis Bombers and fighters were down, while the British lost only fifty Aircraft, and a fortunately empty Chamber of the House of Commons, victim of a Bomber that crashed through the roof. On that day Churchill once again managed to by present when history was made. Four days later, as the Germans were starting to move Squadrons back to the Reich for refitting and repair and the Soviets did the same, the Prime Minister spoke to the House of Commons, assembling in the Royal Albert Hall until better Quarters could be obtained:
“Why do I say all this? Not, assuredly, to boast; not, assuredly, to give the slightest countenance to complacency. The dangers we face are still enormous, but so are our advantages and resources. I recount them because the people have a right to know that there are solid grounds for the confidence which we feel, and that we have good reason to believe ourselves capable, as I said in a very dark mood twelve months ago, of continuing the war "if necessary alone, if necessary for years." I say it also because the fact that the British Empire stands invincible, and that dictatorship is still being resisted, will kindle again the spark of hope in the breasts of hundreds of millions of down-trodden or despairing men and women throughout Europe, and far beyond its bounds, and that from these sparks there will presently come cleansing and devouring flame.
The great air battle which has been in progress over this Island for the last few weeks has recently attained a high intensity. It is too soon to attempt to assign limits either to its scale or to its duration. We must certainly expect that greater efforts will be made by the enemy than any he has so far put forth. Hostile air fields are still being developed in France and the Low Countries, and the movement of squadrons and material for attacking us is still proceeding. It is quite plain that the enemy could not admit defeat in his air attack on Great Britain without sustaining most serious injury. If after all his boastings and bloodcurdling threats and lurid accounts trumpeted round the world of the damage he has inflicted, of the vast numbers of our Air Force he has shot down, so he says, with so little loss to himself; if after tales of the panic-stricken British crushed in their holes cursing the plutocratic Parliament which has led them to such a plight - if after all this his whole air onslaught were forced after a while tamely to peter out, their leaders reputation for veracity of statement might be seriously impugned. We may be sure, therefore, that he will continue as long as he has the strength to do so, and as long as any preoccupations he may have in respect of our own growing strength allows him to do so..
On the other hand, the conditions and course of the fighting have so far been favourable to us. I told the House two months ago that, whereas in France our fighter aircraft were wont to inflict a loss of two or three to one upon the Germans, and in the fighting at Dunkirk, which was a kind of no-man's-land, a loss of about three or four to one, we expected that in an attack on this Island we should achieve a larger ratio. This has certainly come true. It must also be remembered that all the enemy machines and pilots which are shot down over our Island, or over the seas which surround it, are either destroyed or captured; whereas a considerable proportion of our machines, and also of our pilots, are saved, and soon again in many cases come into action.
A vast and admirable system of salvage, directed by the Ministry of Defence, ensures the speediest return to the fighting line of damaged machines, and the most provident and speedy use of all the spare parts and material. At the same time the splendid - nay, astounding - increase in the output and repair of British aircraft and engines which Lord Beaverbrook has achieved by a genius of organization and drive, which looks like magic, has given us overflowing reserves of every type of aircraft, and an ever-mounting stream of production both in quantity and quality. The enemy is, of course, far more numerous than we are. But our new production already, as I am advised, largely exceeds his, and the Imperial production is only just beginning to flow in. It is a fact, as I see from my daily returns, that our bomber and fighter strength now, after all this fighting, are larger than they have ever been. We believe that we shall be able to continue the air struggle indefinitely and as long as the enemy pleases, and the longer it continues the more rapid will be our approach, first towards that parity, and then into that superiority, in the air upon which in a large measure the decision of the war depends.
The gratitude of every home in our Island, in our Empire, and indeed throughout the world, except in the abodes of the guilty, goes out to the British airmen who, undaunted by odds, unwearied in their constant challenge and mortal danger, are turning the tide of the World War by their prowess and by their devotion.”
There Churchill paused. He took a sip from a glass and said:
“Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few.”
[Notes: I wanted Ian to go back into Intelligence for the whole time, but this is the best opportunity so far, and I wanted Edwards to be a bit more Dame Judy Dench's M in the classic series. Did I succeed?]
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Hurray, more Churchill awesomeness!
I love the name of the fake Northern France invasion. "Agincourt". So awesome :rofl:
I love the name of the fake Northern France invasion. "Agincourt". So awesome :rofl:
Hurrah for the RAF! Hurrah for Britain! Hurrah for laughing at the French even when they are our allies!
I laugh at you for your fencing sabre and long bow both offer less fast and deep penetrations than my spear. (Not to mention what I use is both longer and thicker than what you use)
Currently feeling manlier than ever.
btw, trek, I'll also be quoting what Churchill said when the time comes.
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As the most manly Frenchman in history barely rates a "Danny La Rue" on the international manliness scale that's not a proud boast. It's much like being a tall midget; only an achievement relative to the abysmally low standards of one's unimpressive peers.Currently feeling manlier than ever.
The line of American production ought not be there, since in TTL such is clearly not the case, even if one includes the trade agreement and American defectors.
Otherwise, good show! RAF wins again!
One, I use a fencing foil, which is a stabiing weapon and two, I'll think you'll find a longbow has slightly greater range than a spear. Plus, I'd like to see you put a spear through plate from a distance of several hundred metres!
And on the actual update, a fine speech but perhaps not completely appropriate this time around. For instance the mind boggles at what 'American Production' means in this context!
Excellent to see Ian return to intelligence, back where he belongs I'd say. Will he stay desk-bound or will the lure of the field be too strong? I suspect he'd prefer the latter, though I wonder if his parental responsibilities may sway him in favour of a desk.
Excellent to see Ian return to intelligence, back where he belongs I'd say. Will he stay desk-bound or will the lure of the field be too strong? I suspect he'd prefer the latter, though I wonder if his parental responsibilities may sway him in favour of a desk.