Oh my good god that looks fun.
Still, take your time for an update. Ive been meaning to do mine, I just can't find the motivation
Still, take your time for an update. Ive been meaning to do mine, I just can't find the motivation
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At that point I have cleared out most of western Europe and Scandinava. In true British manner I invaded Europe through Norway. I am roleplaying this as in the world has been taken over by body-snatchers and only the United Kingdom was spared because the ship assigned to it was rammed by a Hurricane and crashed into the channel. Now its up to a bunch of tea-drinking, stiff-upper-lip brits to save the world!
EDIT: Annexed Germany, and 75% of the Army facing me disappeared. It seems that the Red Army is still much more strung out than expected.
2nd EDIT: It seems Afghanistan is now the leader of the Axis, because they inherited what was left of the KM. Thats what you get for just copying all the country tags into the axis in the savegame.
EDIT: Annexed Germany, and 75% of the Army facing me disappeared. It seems that the Red Army is still much more strung out than expected.
2nd EDIT: It seems Afghanistan is now the leader of the Axis, because they inherited what was left of the KM. Thats what you get for just copying all the country tags into the axis in the savegame.
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Chapter 77
Night of October 1st / October 2nd, 1939
Somewhere over the North Atlantic
The Golden Fleece, so far the only sister of the temporarily wrecked Golden Hind was well on her way to Canada. Despite the recent incident on her sister the RAF had quickly decided not to fully suspend the Trans-Atlantic flights and so the newest flight stuck to the schedule. It was packed to the brim with passengers, the engines were humming along nicely, despite the relative hastiness with which they had been checked for malfunctions similar to that that had struck the Hind. Two of her passengers, being booked on during the last minute, on the highest request, were sitting in the First-Class compartment and were sleeping, or at least it appeared that both were sleeping. While Ian was silently snoring in the seat beside him, Felix was busy mulling over what had happened these past few hours. He was deeply struck by the fact that he was still not completely trusted by his superiors, despite the work he had done in the past few years. He knew that his immediate peers trusted him, and Ian had said so on more than one occasion, but somewhere deep inside Felix still wondered if it was true. He saw their point, but no one hated the Communists more than he did, and he would gladly release a few from their earthly existence when he had the chance. But if...he shook his head. There was no point in whining about what had happened. He would just have to work harder to proof himself to others. Deciding to give up on sleep Felix rose from his chair and decided to relieve the on-board bar of some of its contents. He had acquired a taste for fine beverages during his first posting at the U.S. Embassy, and the British Pub-culture had been something rather strange for a young man from prohibition-era America. When he reached the bar it was locked, much to his dismay, and so he slowly walked back to his seat. It amazed him that the RAF had ripped out everything of the civilian interior, but had left the bar intact. When he reached the cabin he and Ian had been allocated he could see Ian standing there, waiting for him. “You do know that I would always have you cover my back, you know that?” “I know.” No more needed to be said, and Felix felt relieved.
The rest of the flight passed relative fast. Soon the plane was docked at the RCN quay in Halifax NB. This time no car was waiting for Ian and Felix, but they had been empowered by M to requisiton one from the local motor pool. When Felix saw that pool his eyes lit up like that of a little child at Christmas, and he insisted on choosing. Soon they were speeding of in a slightly older, but fast and comfortable Plymouth Saloon Car, that, as Felix insisted, had been the one he had planned on buying some day as a fresh Annapolis graduate. Ian was driving while Felix studied the map and the assorted papers M had provided them with. They had studied them on the way over, but Felix, who seemed to possess the greater navigation abilities was still studying the map of Halifax. When they passed one of the more distant berths they could see the new HMCS Arizona on the left, being re-fitted as a fire-support ship for the RCN, and Ian asked: “Where do we have to go from here?” Felix quickly glanced at the map and at the base moving by and answered: “Past the next gate and into Halifax proper. We should be there in about half an hour.” They left the stripped hump of the Arizona behind left the base through the main gate. They passed the Checkpoints with ease, their papers and orders identifying them as members of the CANZAC relations Staff of the Admiralty. The base was a few miles from Halifax, and despite being relatively new, only opened in 1923, it was already being closed down as a replacement was built on Prince Edward's Island, farther away from prying eyes and possible American Bombers. Halifax had grown considerably during the last few years. The formerly sleepy little town, devastated by an accidental Ammunition explosion during the last war, had been the centre for Trans-Atlantic traffic of all sorts, from the bigger liners, docking at the quays that had been hastily built during the chaotic last days of the second American Civil War, when everyone had expected the American red militias to simply march north instead of stopping at the border. Now the quays and berths lay empty, and insecurity gripped the town, because if the RCN moved operations the biggest employer would disappear. To squash these fears the Chief of the Canadian Naval staff had maintained that barring unforeseen circumstances, meaning attack by the Americans, operations in Halifax proper would be continued for the time being. And three days ago, much to the relief of the City council, the RCAF staff had announced that a major aerodrome for the Royal Canadian Fighter Command was to be constructed nearby, along with several other military installations.
Ian and Felix did not know all this, but the flurry of activity was hard not to notice. When Ian remarked that it would be easy to smuggle a saboteur through all the chaos in the area Felix didn't answer. Ian realized that the proximity to what was both his home and his greatest nemesis had to greatly distract and worry Felix, and talked no more. He knew that in such situations Felix was best to be left alone, so Ian was understandably surprised when Felix started talking. “I left the states for the last time seven years ago today. Extended tour of duty with the embassy in London. Was supposed to take only three years, in exchange for an early promotion to Lieutenant. Back then I was pretty much a career officer, didn't really care about much, all I wanted where my four stripes and that thing back there,” he meant the Arizona, “to show my dad that I was as much an Officer as he was, despite never learning to ride.” They stopped at an intersection to let a convoy of the Canadian Army pass, and when they moved again Felix continued: “Then the reds started their uprising... I was so damn scared for my folks, we hadn't really parted on the best of terms, and I was afraid I'd never see them again. Everything I took as granted, everything I loved and believed in disappeared during the war... That changed me, you know. I swore myself never again to take anything for granted, and to fight the reds to my last breath. That's why I joined the Royal Navy when they started recruiting in the community. The work we did together.. it helped me make peace with my past, especially now that I have my family close again, but it seems that this is still not enough.” Ian was about to repeat what he had said on the plane, but Felix held up his left hand and said: “That's not it, my friend. There will always be zealots like that, and I know that M didn't mean it personal. What I meant is that I still hate myself for not being there. God knows it's stupid, but somehow I feel like I should have fought there anyway, instead of sitting in London and discussing everything over coffee and crumpets.” Silence ensued, but after a while, whilst their were entering the edges of Halifax, Felix continued jokingly: “Perhaps we would have won the battle of Cape Hatteras?” Felix was referring to the only major naval engagement of the second ACW, where the remnants of the USN Atlantic Squadron had attempted to re-locate from Norfolk to Miami, only to be caught by a bigger UAPR-manned fleet, centred around the former Battleship Washington.
Ian slowed down to avoid running over any pedestrians, and soon stopped in front of their billet, a former luxury hotel, commandeered by the RCN. “You could have done nothing.” he said to Felix. “Not only would you most likely be dead now, I also would have never met your sister, so I am very much glad that you were such a career-minded idiot.” He grinned, and got out of the car. Felix remained for a second. After a while he shook his head and snorted humorously. He knew that Ian would not talk to anyone about what had been said, and he was grateful for that. He and Ian were more than just colleagues, they were siblings in all but name, and Felix was deeply grateful for that. He once more shook his head, disgusted about how his tired and exhausted mind conjured up such mushy crap and got out of the car, following Ian into the hotel. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, and he wanted to sample the bar before going to bed.
[Game Notes: I may have said this before, but both Ian and Felix were originally intended as one-off cameos, never to appear again. That they are now my two main characters is just more proof for how much this AAR has spun out of control, in a good way though. And as I recently won another awAARd I think it's time to reveal how I write: I make most of what I write up as I go along. For each chapter I have at most a rough idea where I want it to go, but never the slightest about how I will get there. Also after the war, given that the Americans stay neutral, south-eastern Canada will be one of the most heavily militarized regions of the world. Sorry for the shortness.]
Yup, so militarized in fact that theres still an Imperial Base in my town. You never know what those damned rednecks are planning down there
Please, do more things about Appalachia.
I loved seeing my home region in this great AAR.
Good Update!
I loved seeing my home region in this great AAR.
Good Update!
Felix sounds as though he likes a drink or two...
I hope the Arizona gets out into the war, it would be awesome for her to get some kills
I hope the Arizona gets out into the war, it would be awesome for her to get some kills
Ahh the 'Vague destination but no idea how to get there technique' of writing, one I fully approve of (because I use it my self ).
Always nice to see some more depth and rounding to the US situation, it is still quite mysteriously vague, but in a good way I hasten to add.
).Always nice to see some more depth and rounding to the US situation, it is still quite mysteriously vague, but in a good way I hasten to add.
Griffin.Gen Let's just say it would make a rather interesting cold war.
humancalculator I can't promise, but I'll see what I can do.
Raaritsgozilla Well, he doesn't really drink, but this anniversary is rather difficult for him. In any case, he occasionally enjoys a good drink as much as the next man.
El Pip So I'm not the only one who does. Good to hear.
The US situation is still vague, because as with so much in this AAR it was planned completely different and with a fraction of the detail it already has.
humancalculator I can't promise, but I'll see what I can do.
Raaritsgozilla Well, he doesn't really drink, but this anniversary is rather difficult for him. In any case, he occasionally enjoys a good drink as much as the next man.
El Pip So I'm not the only one who does. Good to hear.
The US situation is still vague, because as with so much in this AAR it was planned completely different and with a fraction of the detail it already has.
Hehe. Well, she isn't part of the Canadian Pacific Squadron. Besides, if she ever makes it into service she will most likely serve as a convoy escort or fire-support ship, as I am only role-playing her.
I recently recieved my copy of 'Project Cancelled' by Derek Wood, the 1986 edition. It is about how idiotic policies and shortsightedness by the post-war Labour Government and those that followed crippled and essentially killed the British aviation industry. If you can get it anywhere, the ~96€ are very much worth it. As a result of that the next update will be a tech update that will set the trend for British post-war aviation.
Chapter 78
October 3rd, 1939 undisclosed location, somewhere in Britain
The massive engine was fitted to an even more massive fan. From the front of the fan a long tunnel ran about south-east, just along the line of the road outside the building. From the outside it did not look like much, but the inside contained something that was to be vital in the future of British Aviation: The Empire's first high-speed wind tunnel that was able to simulate speeds that went beyond the sound barrier. As a part of the Cranton Research Centre, it had been the subject to much ridicule from the Air Ministry, but thanks to the intervention by certain high figures and the simple fact that even the most boneheaded bureaucrats realized that the country needed to mobilise every resource at her disposal if she were to have a chance against the Axis had saved it from the axe during the immediate pre-war months. Now that the balloon had gone up, both the services and the Air Ministry suddenly showed very great interest in the work being done here, despite the policy of avoiding new types wherever possible. Currently the tunnel was being prepared for a first trial run, with a wooden model of a Spitfire Mk.I strapped into the other end. They all knew the aerodynamic Characteristics of the Spit, and it was therefore good to find out if the tunnel functioned properly. R.J. Mitchell had moved operations from Supermarine's ever-expanding factory complex at Woolston to the centre here. He had been begged by the Air Ministry to do so, and had agreed under the condition that he was still allowed to work on the Spitfire, his 'baby' as he called it. He had talked with his friend, Harold Dashwood, before he had left the factory, and had been very pleased with the terse combat report from his friend. The dozens of German and Soviet Bombers littering the countryside of south-eastern England were a testimony to the abilities of the plane. Supermarine as a company was thriving again, while Vickers, still annoyed that the deal had gone bust was stuck with producing the already slightly outmoded Wellington Bomber. By now the companies future was as uncertain as that of Supermarine had been only a year ago.
Not that Mitchell cared. His attention was focused on the window where he could see the model of the Spirfire strapped in. They were only waiting for Sir Charles Manken, the Air Ministry representative in the centre, and nominal head of the same. “Ah, Sir Charles,” Mitchell addressed him when he saw him entering the observation chamber. “We were just waiting for you.” The grumpy bureaucrat just waved his hand dismissively in return, and Mitchell gave the order to start the fans that would accellerate the air inside to a speed faster than that of sound, or so they hoped. Experiences with this phenomenon were more than limited, and no one really knew what happened when an aircraft approached this magical barrier. The long barracks that contained the actual design offices for the myriads of scientists were relatively empty at this time of the day. One or two lost souls however were always hard at work. The budget of the centre wasn't exactly lavish, but comparatively big when compared to the minuscule amounts of money the industry had made and received during much of the 30s, and they made good use of it. On the walls of the countless cube-shaped offices and smaller halls one could see every possible design for Bombers, fighters, yes, even rockets, although most of the work done in the centre was theoretical so far. When there had been renewed talk of closing the centre when the Poles had retreated to the last line of defence around Warsaw, and putting the resources into the production of existing models the Prime Minister had reportedly just answered that the Axis wouldn't sit around on their achievements either, in his usual colourful language. For many of the scientists and Engineers attached to the facility it was like paradise on earth, and they seemed to make good use of it. For example the Avro Engineers were working on a four-engined Manchester Bomber that had proven to be something of a failure thanks to less-than-stellar performance of the R-R Vulture engines that tended to be somewhat unreliable, even more so when actually used at the level for which they were supposedly rated. The new plane would eventually use some other power plant, probably the R-R Merlin that had more than proven itself within the Spitfire and recent versions of the Hawker Hurricane. It would be at least a couple more years though, as the necessity for replacing the Manchester wasn't acute with the advent of the Handley-Page Halifax that was due to fly sometime next year, and so Avro concentrated on other things, among them the continued production of Manchesters to replace the slight losses Bomber Command was suffering over Germany, despite the recent switch to night-time operations only.
A few hundred yards from the Wind Tunnel building the edge of the Airfield began. The field was no official RAF base, but the hordes of ground personnel and the other RAF Servicemen might give someone that false impression. The field was exclusively used by the centre for testing the prototypes and all sorts of assorted Aviation technologies. In the hangar the farthest away from the entrance one could see Frank Whittle and several Gloster technicians working on a peculiar little plane, one that had no propeller and was destined to write history, if they could make it work that is. The other Hangars contained projects one all imaginable stages of completion, and on the outside field the RAF had parked several Spitfires and Hurricanes so that eventual Axis recce-planes would write this off as a large RAF Aerodrome for Air Defence. This could technically invite bombing, but the small number of actual combat aircraft and the remoteness of the field made this possibility rather remote in itself. The air was thick with the constant smell of aviation petrol, welding torches and all sorts of paints and glues, but this was what was to be expected form a field like this.
The only aircraft slated for taking off was Short Stirling which was under the unofficial ownership of the centre as an engine testbed. The outer starboard engine was replaced with an experimental model of the Merlin Engine that Mitchell wanted to use for the next version of the Spitfire, and its presence among the radial engines that normally powered the old Bomber made for a strangely asymmetrical sight. When it thundered down the runway it only just so managed to take of with three engines and with the help of a Rocket booster pack. The smoke from the pack partially obscured the lower end of the tarmac runway, but then the plane could be seen clawing its way to altitude, spurred on by the cheers of the ground crew. Moving away from the Airfield and back into the main complex an observer could see the living quarters on the left, a series of barracks stretching for several hundred yards that were due to be replaced by bricked and more luxurious buildings in the spring.
[Game Notes: Its only a tech-ish update, but hey. The Phoney War is supposed to be boring. Also fans of the Lanc, she will receive due credit. *cue Dambusters March* Also later in the war we will hear from this centre again, so a description should be useful for later reference. I also promise the next one will be longer. I will get on at as soon as my sleeping patterns are in order again.]
Awesome bring on the Lanc! Bomber command only suffering slight casualties over Germany? Cool, I woulda thought they would have got smoked by both the Germans and the Reds. Suck on that Berlin!
Well, Bomber Command never really conducted day-time operations to begin with, as the Manchester was deemed inadequate to survive a daylight campaign during the defence review after Churchill came to power, and early night air doctrines suck pretty much.
To be fair on the Manchester, putting 'shallow dive bombing' into the spec really was stacking the deck against it! Wouldn't have fixed the engine problems, though it certainly would have helped with a few of the aero problems around the tail and certainly improved engine cooling and airflow.
Not just an RAF problem though, if I remember correctly the Germans kept doing the same thing, insisting their 'heavy' bombers had full on dive bombing capability then being surprised when said aircraft were rubbish.
Not just an RAF problem though, if I remember correctly the Germans kept doing the same thing, insisting their 'heavy' bombers had full on dive bombing capability then being surprised when said aircraft were rubbish.
To be fair on the Manchester, putting 'shallow dive bombing' into the spec really was stacking the deck against it! Wouldn't have fixed the engine problems, though it certainly would have helped with a few of the aero problems around the tail and certainly improved engine cooling and airflow.
Not just an RAF problem though, if I remember correctly the Germans kept doing the same thing, insisting their 'heavy' bombers had full on dive bombing capability then being surprised when said aircraft were rubbish.
Indeed. The Engine problems are the main reason why I don't like the Manchester though. Thinking that the Lancaster was developed as a backup only makes my hairs go gray.
Good Update!
I suspect that Britain will invent the Rocket and the Jet first in your timeline.
I suspect that Britain will invent the Rocket and the Jet first in your timeline.
Merry Christmas, everyone!
Trek, you have a real problem. To wish merry Xmas at gunpoint... dunno how to say, but....
Merry Christmas, my friend! Best of wishes to you!
STOP! COOKIE TIME