Glad to see the Dutch holding the lines as if they are being led by some un-seeable, all-knowing force that is obviously a better commander than their own commanders. 
Good Update!
Good Update!
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Crusader Kings III Available Now!
The realm rejoices as Paradox Interactive announces the launch of Crusader Kings III, the latest entry in the publisher’s grand strategy role-playing game franchise. Advisors may now jockey for positions of influence and adversaries should save their schemes for another day, because on this day Crusader Kings III can be purchased on Steam, the Paradox Store, and other major online retailers.
This thread is more than 5 months old.
It is very likely that it does not need any further discussion and thus bumping it serves no purpose. If you feel it is necessary to make a new reply, you can still do so though.
Kurt_Steiner Hehehe. It's more going to be: "For yu, ze war is ovah!"
humancalculator It looks like that, yes. Ingame however the explanation is higher readiness and a larger army.
humancalculator It looks like that, yes. Ingame however the explanation is higher readiness and a larger army.
I am at last caught up again on your fine AAR, my friend! Your update speed never ceases to bedevil me and at the same time depress me to think that in my better days I achieved a little better than half that...
Keep up the good work.
Keep up the good work
.
Don't worry, my update speed is bound to be much slower once I start University in March. Besides, your AAR is much better researched than mine.
Besides, your AAR is much better researched than mine.
Don't worry, my update speed is bound to be much slower once I start University in March.
As I probably said before, Univeristy life will certainly eat away a lot of your time.
Good to see the Dutch still have some fighting spirit, even though they have no war for more than a century.
As I probably said before, Univeristy life will certainly eat away a lot of your time.
Aye...
Good to see the Dutch still have some fighting spirit, even though they have no war for more than a century.
IMHO fighting spirit is not so much a matter of experience but rather proper motivation prior to battle. The Dutch, just liken the Belgians are fighting for their very survival as a nation and their homeland. What better motivation is there?
You're sure right. However for fighting spirit I must sadly say doesn't meant much when someboy drives a panzer right in front of your doorstep.
(I actually played Germany before, and well, the Dutch didn't stand a chance. There weren't even something called "delaying action", just a simply overrun by my panzer corps. )
indeed. in fact from what i've read about the belgian army, contrary to how they are portrayed in the game, they could have probably held the germans long enough to 'blunt the spear', so to speak, and allow an allied counter-attack. of course, they'd have needed better leadership, organisation, and readiness. i may be wrong but my understanding of the whole invasion of france, and of blitzkrieg as a whole, is that it relied on constant motion and surprise, helped by healthy portions of fear and confusion. hit the enemy, keep hitting him, never give him a chance to consolidate his position, and overwhelm his armies before they have much of a chance to fight back. when the allies managed to halt them they caused quite heavy casualties - so i think that if the belgians for instance had held them for a few weeks the operation would have failed or been reduced to a slogging match. someone tell me if i'm talking out of my arse
If El Pip ever comes back here he can probably tell you, but AFAIK your're pretty much dead on.
Chapter 105
15th May 1940
British Military Academy of the Raj, near Bombay, ID of India
The Academy in Bombay was, just like many of the new institutions that had sprung up since the Empire Act of 1938, a rather ad-hoc measure. The Act was not even two years old and already were reforms made to it. The main quarrel had been about the status of the Viceroy of India, whether or not the post should be abolished in favour of a simple governor-general like in the outer Dominions in Canada. In the end it had been decided to retain the post and the name, but to curtail the powers and duties to that of the governor-general. What had gone smoothly were the preparations for the first general elections for the provisional Indian National Assembly, due to be held by mid 1942, despite the resistance of ultra conservatives and ultra nationalists, which had managed to pretty much alienate themselves after they had dubbed all who backed the Empire Treaty and the Act as traitors to the Indian cause. All in all reception was good, especially since the INC, the leaders of the Muslims along with the heads of most of the incredible number of religious troops had backed it publicly. In an unprecedented move, and what would later be classified as the first publicity stunt of the Dominion era, the leaders of the five biggest groups had publicly traded greetings and made friendship, cementing the idea of a united, proud India as a part of the British Empire. Whether or not this would hold in the end was another matter. But the cadets at this, the first Military Academy of the country and a Sister-school of Sandhurst back in the United Kingdom, were mostly committed to the Empire Act and all it entailed, something that had been dubbed the “new era” by an enthusiastic reporter of the London Times. They were slated to take over the Indian Army once a sufficiently large Officer Corps had been created, and they would slowly filter up the ranks, eventually replacing most if not all of the British Officers, although those Britons living in India still had the possibility to join the Indian Army if they desired to do so. On the streets not much had changed from the pre-act days, and the general consensus was that it wouldn't until the Empire Act was finally enacted, and that could not happen until after the National Assembly had been elected. Until then the provisional Government would slowly take over administrative duties, until it would officially take over by 1943. When war had broken out in Europe there had been talk of suspending the act, only to provoke an outcry amongst the ultra nationalists, who claimed that the British were already backing out of their promises. In the end it had been decided to go on despite the fighting.
As the academy not only trained Officers but also provided one of the many schools where basic training was conducted, Ranjid, son of Sing was no cadet. He had seen the Army as his way of escaping the slums of Bombay that would only very slowly become better places to live, and he had volunteered for the Army as soon as the war had started. He was gladly accepted, despite being unable to read or write, as the Army was desperate for men to both strengthen the Indian Army here and send the contingents to Europe. He had spent the last year catching on all that he had missed, and right now he was walking through the streets in his brand-new Army uniform, silently celebrating the fact that he had made it past basic training intact and had now several days off, which he intended to use to visit his mother in their small flat. He walked past the gate guards, and after showing that was allowed to leave in the middle of the day, and walked on the street. He quickly turned and looked at the building, where the flag of the Dominion and the British Raj were flying side by side, although the latter was only of ceremonial nature now, or at least would be eventually. Ranjid was among those who believed that the British would follow up on their promises, he had to, as everything he had, everything he was depended on it. He quickly left the grounds of the academy, and walked down the freshly paved road to the main road, from where he hoped to catch a ride into town. When he heard a roar, he looked up just in time to see two Spitfires of the RIAF flying over. “Can I take you somewhere, soldier?” he heard a voice ask in the dialect of the region. He turned his head away from the planes and looked at whoever was talking to him. He saw a farmer, sitting on the forward bench of an cart pulled by two oxen, with a huge pile of hay on the back. Ranjid bowed slightly to show his respect for the older man and said: “Greetings, Sir. Where are you going if I may ask? I am heading to Bombay to visit my family while I am on leave.” The Farmer made a thoughtful face and replied after a short while: “I am going to the market near the city, I can take you there of you wish.” That would be very kind of you, Sir.” With that Ranjid climbed onto the cart, taking his seat beside the owner. “So, you're in the Army?” “Yes, Sir. 5th Division.” “I see. My own son serves in the Navy.” For the next hour they made small talk, while the cart slowly moved down the dusty road. They weren't exceptionally fast, but Ranjid's British instructor always said: 'better bad riding than good walking'.
It was a warm and pleasant day, and Ranjid had always been one to enjoy weather liken this. He leaned back and looked up in the sky, cloudgazing as he had done it since he was a little kid. He slowly fell asleep, and was awoken when the old farmer shook his shoulder. “Wake up, Soldier. There is trouble ahead.” He looked around and saw what the farmer meant. They were at the edge of a small town that was sitting alongside the railway to Bombay. From their vantage point they could see the square in front of the train station, normally empty, but now there were several stalls where the Indian Army and the British Army were both recruiting for the Indian contingents in Europe. Nothing was wrong with that, such recruitment centres could be found all over India, but here something was wrong. “Oh damn. Ultras.” Ranjid muttered, referring to the small, ignored and laughed about Ultra-nationalist group that had split from the INC after the INC assembly had voted for the Empire Act with an overwhelming majority of almost 96 %. The group had split off, and had started to gather support for the continuation of the quit-india movement, but had been mystified and rather annoyed when this support had not materialized, neither among the common people who had been won over by a combination of clever propaganda and the infrastructure, education and industrialization programs that had been promised as a part of the act. The Ultranationalists had then resorted to the oldest form of political agitation known to man: smashing up anything and anyone not agreeing with their point. Here in this case a small group was starting to tear apart the stalls where the recruiters had tried to do their work, cheered on by some more that were keeping the villagers in check at the same time. Ranjid was about to jump into the hay when they were spotted. They were speaking some dialect unknown to him, but it was clear what they meant. In his Army uniform he was the first target. Luckily for him, they were almost a hundred yards away, giving him time to hastily say thanks to the farmer, jump off the cart and dash towards the railway tracks, the rioters close on his heels. He wished he had his rifle with him, but alas, he had left it behind in the academy. Streetsmart and experienced as he was, he normally would have no trouble standing up against four or even five of them, but he was smart enough to know that he could not hope to stand against thirty or forty, so he chose that discretion was the better part of valour and decided to run while he still could.
He suddenly heard the sound of horses coming closer at high speed and his heart sank. Cavalry... why on earth had a mostly disorganized rabble Cavalry? He jumped across the rail tracks and caught his foot in the opposing rail. He smashed to the ground, narrowly missing the gravel of the railbed. He turned around and risked a glance over his shoulder. Much to his relief it was not Cavalry but rather a troop of mounted constables of the Imperial police. The rabble quickly dispersed in all directions, while Ranjid, out of breath and with lots of dirt on his uniform rose to his feet from where he had fallen. He quickly walked past the mounted constables that were too busy with securing those of the rioters that they had managed to apprehend, and walked up to the farmer and his cart who had waited at the original spot. “Does this happen often?” Ranjid asked when they were moving again. “Oh, here and there. Not too often. Most people see the ultras as little more than bandits.” Ranjid leaned back, and soon was fast asleep again.
[Notes: India has some minor civil disturbances as a direct result of the Empire Act. It will take decades to get the Empire where it will be in TTLs present. Expect some sort of civil rights movement, especially in India, but also in South Africa and Rhodesia. I haven't fully decided yet where this will lead in the latter two cases. But expect India to be a model member of the Empire by the end of the 20th century. ]
Just catching up dear boy, I try not to comment on things I haven't read.
On the question Blitzkrieg was as much a 'political' form of warfare as anything else, certainly the strategy wasn't particularly new or innovative (though some of the logistical and communication technology was clever). It depended on keeping your enemy off balance then forcing a political solution before the enemy could counter-attack.
If the Allies could have got over the shock and surprise and kept their Command & Control together then they out numbered and out equipped the Germans (possibly not in the air though). Certainly Britain and France were planning for an immense slugging match some time in early 1941 once they had mobilised their larger industrial bases. That does of course explain why the entire German strategy was built around not fighting such a war.
On the Belgians specifically they had their own unique problems, not least pulling out of joint Allied defence planning but still basing all their defence plans on the Allies rushing to their aid. Shockingly that didn't work out so well.
nice to see how india's developing and benefitting from the empire plan. the way it seems to be being run is exactly the way that the british empire could have been made to work after the war.
El Pip I've done quite a bit of reading and general research on the Blitzkrieg recently, and I've come pretty much to the same conclusion. Tank vs Tank the Allies were at least on par with the Germans, and they had numbers on their side, so yes, I think you are right.
As for the Belgians, once we come back to the main action, I will explain a bit more on why they are fighting so well all of a sudden.
BritishImperial Exactly. This is of course written with the benefit of hindsight, but IMHO much of what has happened, especially the religious hatred between Pakistan and India could have been avoided that way, so it stands to reason that maybe someone could have had the same ideas in 1939.
As for the Belgians, once we come back to the main action, I will explain a bit more on why they are fighting so well all of a sudden.
BritishImperial Exactly. This is of course written with the benefit of hindsight, but IMHO much of what has happened, especially the religious hatred between Pakistan and India could have been avoided that way, so it stands to reason that maybe someone could have had the same ideas in 1939.
Chapter 106
The hometown of yours truely. You can even see my parents house on that picture.
17th February 2009 1:23 AM
Southern Federal Republic of Germany, our Universe
The soon-to-be student of Media and Communications technology was once again spending his late evening, or rather early morning in front of my most expensive worldly possession: The computer bought about half a year ago thanks to the generous, yet totally unexpected gift from my grandfather. I knew that I should go to bed soon, but my sleeping patterns were thoroughly ripped apart ever since I had started to conduct late-night research and gaming sessions when I had been unable to sleep due to over-use of coffee. I yawned and looked slightly to the right, looking and the printed painting of the Spitfire that I had bought over the internet some months ago. I grinned and went back to what I was doing, namely staring at my computer screen, while trying to decide what to write next. I was something of an amateur writer, and despite churning out updates relatively often, more often than not I lacked ideas. I usually knew where I was going, but almost never had any idea as to how to get there. Anyhow, I had started this and was determined to see it through to the end, no matter what. I was convinced that even with University I would find time to write, as it was my primary hobby and recreational activity, thanks to a relatively remote location and the simple fact that I had decided to stay away from the ladies for now ever since an unfortunate 'incident'. I leaned further back in my chair and cast a look at my Union-flagged coffee cup, standing to the left of his keyboard. I knew that my second biggest vice, aside from a certain American soft drink that came in bottles with red caps and logos, was the reason I could not sleep, but I enjoyed the sensations and the smell of freshly brewed coffee way too much. I shook my head, once again thinking that one should technically drink only tea from such a cup, but then again, I was only a continental, and a German to boot. I moved the mouse-pointer to the icon for my music player on the task bar and maximised it. I was in the mood for some classic rock, and I had a sizeable collection of it. The Who never fails to cheer me up.
I closed my hands behind my head and let out a sharp breath, while 'Won't get fooled again' was coming from the speakers of my headphones. I wished I had a good idea for how to continue this chapter, but inspiration evaded me again. I was just about to power down the computer and finally go to bed, when the back of my chair collapsed and I was thrown to the ground. “Oh bloody fuck...” I cursed, and struggled to get up again, hoping that nothing was permanently damaged. I looked at my own ceiling with dazed eyes and wondered why I was suddenly feeling so incredibly tired. I suddenly heard a voice that asked in an odd English: “Are you all right, Mister?” I scrambled to his feet, and sure enough, there was a man in his late 20s leaning against the door of the room. He was wearing a World War 2 style Royal Navy uniform with the rank insignia of a Lieutenant Commander, and I instinctively knew who that officer was. “Bloody hell, I must have knocked my head fucking hard. You almost died in Licence to kill and I made you up!” Felix chuckled and said: “I on the other hand also know exactly who you are. You are 23 years old and usually go by trekaddict on the paradox forums although lately you shortened it to trekchu both in IRC and whenever you register somewhere new. Thanks for bringing me back from the dead by the way.” I was stunned and only managed to say something that sounded like: “You're welcome.” I was wholly unprepared for what happened next. “One question though.” Felix said. “Why my sister?” It took me a few seconds to comprehend what he was saying. “Excuse me?” I shot back, deciding to ignore the ridiculousness of the situation and go for it. “You are supposed to be overjoyed, mate! I decide what happens in AGAOTBEWWT!” Felix just laughed and took his cap off his head, moving his hand through his unruly black hair. “I know, I was just joking. More to the point, why me?” “I can't help it. You were always my favourite supporting character after Q, and when I watched Licence to Kill for the first time around the time you and Ian came in, I decided to remedy this situation. I can't however promise anything for the rest of the war.” Felix nodded and said: “I can understand that. After all, you are the author.” He grinned and I shook my had again. This whole thing was utterly bonkers. I looked down on the ground and fingered the growing bulge on the back of my head when I heard his voice again. “So tell me this, how does a kraut get the idea of saving the British Empire?” I sat back onto the remnants of my chair, leaning my back against the heater and making my usual 'Oh goddamn' expression. “I won't use any big words, so I'll be frank. I wanted an alternative World War 2, one where Spamland can't claim all the credit.” I smiled ruefully and added something. “I admit, I wasn't 100 percent sober when I thought that one up. I basically wanted Britain to retain some of her pre-war Great Power status.” Felix nodded. “I can see why. But why did you have to have the USA go red?”
“To keep them neutral or focused on the Japanese. That way they wouldn't constantly pester me with wanting to join my Alliance and the AI wouldn't screw up my plans with useless two Division landings.” I smirked again. “And it will make for awesome storylines later in the war. Because, my dear Felix, unlike you and the readers I know exactly what is going to happen.” Felix had a quizzical look on his face and once again managed to surprise me. “And why Ian? I mean I know this is a no-brainer as you say these days, but seriously, why not someone else?” “I am a Bond fan. Nice and simple.” “I can see that.” I turned back to my computer and decided that if I was going to have this conversation I had to do it in style. I changed the music playlist and soon we could both hear Nancy Sinatra's “You only live twice” coming from the speakers after I disconnected my headphones. Felix had moved from his spot at the door and was now sitting on my bed, fittingly right under the White Ensign I had pinned to the wall there. “When did this all turn into the British Empire instead of the United Kingdom? I mean I know when you had the Empire Conference on Bermuda, but what prompted you?” Now it was my turn to laugh and grin. “I watched a documentary about Winston's bodyguard. There was this sequence with his historical 'We shall fight them on the beaches' speech, with vintage material, and this sort of gave me the inspiration. This is about as close as I can pin it down I'm afraid.” “Nerd.” “I know mate, I know.” “Seriously, how can you be a very patriotic person by German standards and still be an anglophile? Do I have to remind you of the World Cup final of 1966?” I took off my glasses and massaged the bridge of my nose. “Easy, Commander. Unlike what Hollywood thinks America could not have won the war with conventional means had Britain not fought on valiantly in 1940. For all intents and purposes they had lost the war, and despite Sealion being a stupid pipedream, most would have surrendered. I'll never forget that.” I paused and looked at the small stash of DVD cases on my desk. “Besides, Battle of Britain is a bloody fine film.” Felix nodded. “Indeed it is.” “I only wish Ron Goodwin were still alive. I'd kill to be able to hear him conduct the music himself.” “And why the British Empire? Why not simply a closer Commonwealth of Nations?” This was a bit harder to explain, as I wasn't so sure about that one myself. “That's a toughy I must admit. I probably lost control of the AAR when I started the thing with the conference, but today I think that a reformed Empire is the only way to get the necessary Industrial and human power together to have a British Superpower that can replace the USA after the war, and besides, the possibility of building my own 'perfect' RN and RAF was too much to pass up. The spa... Americans have had the prerogative of being the worlds primary naval power for far too long. The rule of the waves is back where it belongs. Her most Britannic Majesties Ship Vanguard will in my timeline only need a couple buckets of paint should she ever collide with a frog U-Boat.”
“You don't like America, do you?” “Not America as such, but rather the rampant idiocy they seem to have at times. No offense.” “None taken.” Suddenly everything went black again, and when I woke up again, I was lying on the floor again, with my headphones on, staring at the ceiling. 'What the fuck just happened?' I thought and shook my head. There was no point in thinking over what I had dreamt when I was out. I had a universe to construct. Tomorrow. I looked at the Spitfire poster and suddenly realized that there was space for one more. HMS Hood would certainly fit.
[Notes: This was what I had initially in mind for chapter 100, but alas, the dates in the narrative and the opportunity with the battle presented themselves to me.]
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heh, that was very weird, but quite cool to learn a little bit more about you: namely how insane you clearly are.
i must however clear up one piece of slander: Felix did NOT die in Licence to Kill. Not the version i've watched anyway. wasnt he happy and smiling in a wheelchair at the end?
i must however clear up one piece of slander: Felix did NOT die in Licence to Kill. Not the version i've watched anyway. wasnt he happy and smiling in a wheelchair at the end?
I know I am quite weird.
As for Felix: Not that I can remember anyway. I might however go back and edit that. I've watched Licence to kill only a few times, so I might be mistaken, but I cant remember him being in a weelchair at the end. Anyway, you are right. I'll go back and edit the part. I fully admit that I couldn't be botherd to re-check my notes. He effectively died though, as he wasn't seen again until the relaunch as he lost a limb.
obviously at the same time as the extensive plastic surgery was in progress to change his face for about the sixth time, and his skin colour they also whipped him up some new legs
oh, and they also sent him back in time... and oh its very confusing
obviously at the same time as the extensive plastic surgery was in progress to change his face for about the sixth time, and his skin colour they also whipped him up some new legs
Well, I don't consider the relaunched Bonds as a part of the Series, so Leiter was effectively Mission-killed. Sad thing that.
Also, as of late the number of comments seems to dwindle. I admit that I couldn't put the usual level of attention to this AAR due to RL reasons, but has the quality dropped that much?
STOP! COOKIE TIME