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Rule Britannia....



As I am writing the last peace time updates I can tell you know that I will post such things repeatedly.
 
Also if anyone finds similar videos anywhere he is invited to post them here, as I am collecting them.
 
i love watching those. if they had been made by some soviet bloke (about soviet naval action obviously) i wouldnt believe a word. but its just so british and inspiring!
 
BritishImperial said:
i love watching those. if they had been made by some soviet bloke (about soviet naval action obviously) i wouldnt believe a word. but its just so british and inspiring!


Indeed, good Sir.
 
Chapter 55

Headquarters_office_aldershot.jpg

August 22nd, 1939

Headquarters of the Imperial General Staff, Aldershot

Field Marshal Gort walked into the map room with a brisk pace, telling his subordinates that he was not in a good mood. As a matter of fact no one at the IGS headquarters was. Nobody had had more than a couple of hours of sleep in the last week, and many had been living on Tea and Tobacco for an equally long time now. The Germans and Soviets were manoeuvring Units up and down the French border for weeks now, probably hoping to provoke the French into opening fire. The BEF was still forming it's Divisions in Britain as the Prime Minister had insisted that it was not to be sent to France piecemeal. The French were howling in anger, but Gort was forced to agree with the PM's assessment of the situation. What the PM had not told him, but what had been more and more obvious was that apparently No 10 and those around, especially in the Foreign Office began to doubt the French commitment to the Allied Powers. They would not withdraw from it, for that they needed the British Tommies and Pilots too much, but there were rumblings, and the French had even started talking about demanding that all Imperial soldiers to be placed under direct French Command, but so far Eden had managed to talk them out of it. Gort shook his head, and muttered 'bloody frogs' for the umpteenth time that day alone. But that was something for the politicians to sort out. He was a soldier, and currently preparing his nation for a war that promised to make the last one look like a bar room brawl in the enlisted mess at the Khyber Pass.

“The latest intelligence report, and sharpish!” he yelled at no one in particular. A young staff Officer stepped up and handed him a collection of papers. He saluted and retreated to the relative security of his chair. Gort stepped to the map table and surveyed the big map of Europe where his officers were just posting the last reported position of all known German and Soviet Units. The situation was bad, really bad. Even if the projected size of the BEF, 36 Divisions, was instantly available Poland was lost. Projections spoke of a week, two at best of organized resistance, not nearly enough to ship all of the current BEF Divisions to France, and then the French wouldn't get moving anyway before the full British strength was deployed. The Axis Powers on the other hand had roughly 150-ish Divisions arrayed along Poland's borders, faced by about 60 to seventy polish ones. The Axis were heavily mechanised, while Poland and the French still relied on Infantry. The situation was bad, but there were areas where the British Empire had a clear advantage. “The Naval situation, please.” Ironside ordered. The liaison from the Royal Navy, a older man with the rank of Captain answered. “After run-in the Hood had with Bismarck a few days ago Jerry has pulled his ships back to port, it seems that only their U-Boats are at sea at the moment. We have some of our own Submarines staked out in the south-eastern North Sea, and the Home Fleet is at sea ever since. We are maintaining patrols twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. If Hitler sends them out we will know about it. All our overseas stations are on high alert, and several ships are shadowing suspected German and Soviet raiders.” The RAF liaison was next. “The Chain-Home system is operational and conducts continuous scans of the aerial approaches to the United Kingdom. Coastal Command patrols the western approaches and and the waters around the coast, working together with the French Aeronavale and several training Squadrons from the Royal Indian Air Force. Bomber Command has it's tactical Bombers on standby, ready to move to France at a moments notice, and Fighter Command has already moved the Hurricane Wing there, they are now stationed near Strasburg, training together with the French Armée de'l Air.” Gort nodded, and wished that he hadn't agreed to take over for Ironside when the former had taken over command of I (UK) Armoured Corps by wish of the Government and the King. Gort was still commander of Aldershot Command and Commander Home Forces, but he wished he could be out in the field, like all the others. Still his place was here, and he intended to do his duty.

August 26th, 1939

Fort Simserhof, Maginot Line

The garrison of this, one of the strongest forts in the Maginot Line, was living on the literal edge for weeks now. The French Army was on high alert, and had been for most of the month, ever since a Soviet Plane had been forced down by AdA fighters on a nearby airfield. The French had refused to up their alert status like the British had done after the assassination of the Duke of Windsor, a sign of the cooling of Anglo-French relations lately. Still, this did not extend to the common soldiers, as many of them if not knew then at least felt the reason behind this and also knew that the British would fight side by side with them if the worst happened. Lieutenant Delarge, the commander of this particular forward fighting emplacement, had special connections, as his mother had been British, the marriage being the result of his father, a pilot during the great war ending up in a field Hospital of the BEF. His current posting wasn't one he would have selected, as he had always wanted to join the Air Force, but alas, the Air Force had rejected him because of his eyes, so he had done the next best thing and become an Artillery Officer. He still felt cooped in this emplacement, but at least he could command the best guns France had to offer in the most important position of his country. The whole interior of the Fort had a Jules Verne-esque feeling about it, and the whole thing was slightly disconcerting. He was interrupted in his musings when the sirens went off, all at once. “Battlestations, and at once!” he yelled, while all around them the crew of his bloc raced to their stations, rotating the turrets from their resting into firing positions. Shells were loaded, turrets trained towards Germany and Delarge telephoned back to the command post to declare his fighting bloc ready to fire. He talked quickly with the officer on duty. He replaced the receiver and turned around. His men were waiting expectantly. “Well, Monsieurs, it seems as if the Boche has decided once more to violate our Airspace. We are not yet at war it seems, but Command has still ordered the whole line on the highest alert in case they also send tanks.” Anxious minutes of waiting followed, until the all-clear was sounded.

Meanwhile on a nearby Airfield Major Duval was fuming. Time and again the Axis had violated French Airspace, and each time Paris had refused to give permission to intercept and shoot them down. It seemed that General Gamelin, the chief of staff feared that such a move would provoke outbreak of hostilities. So the Axis were allowed to fly over France with impunity, while the French, and as of a few days ago also British Fighters sat on the ground, watching the Germans and Soviets above. Unlike the General in his castle Duval believed that the war would come sooner or later, whatever the French Armed Forces did, and he did not cling to the belief that appeasement might still be possible, and luckily the British had also shed this hope when Churchill had come to Power. He did not know what to think of the British Empire Plan, but if it worked they would get even more powerful than they already were, and France needed a powerful ally in this war, no matter their colonial policies. He had spent yesterday at the next RAF airfield, and frankly, he had not been impressed by their Hurricanes, but it seemed that the pilots knew what they were doing. He had flown with them, and despite their ageing planes they had achieved impressive results in the mock Airbattles against Duval's squadron. This they owed mostly to their advanced tactics, borrowed, as it seemed, straight from the Luftwaffe, and if rumours about the new Spitfire fighter were true then the British Royal Air Force was a force to behold. Their pilots were grumbling more openly about the current situation then their French counterparts, given that the change in doctrine and political will within Britain in the last year had definitely rubbed off on their servicemen.


[Game Notes: Normally I'd just let the French rot in their misery, but for RP reasons I am going to defend France to the best of my abilities. I will probably fail, but it will provide some valuable combat experience for my Commanders and Units. Also I suck terribly at writing accents, so please let your imagination do the rest. Btw, the Simserhof is the only Maginot-line fort that has been preserved, right down to the wine-barrel in the commissary. I toured it with my dad a while back and the guide told us that each member of the garrison was entitled to two glasses a day.]
 
so will the maginot line actually see some proper action this time around?

at least with all that wine their hearts will be fine. though they'll probably drink it just before the jerries attack, and wont be able to shoot straight.
 
Two glasses a day would be fine, everything in moderation as the saying goes.

Not a Hurricane fan, or at least the French airforce aren't. A harsh judgement if I may be so bold, while not the best superiority fighter they were certainly fine interceptors for taking down bombers, which is most of the point of air defence. Add in their relative cheapness, the ease of repair and maintenance (linen not metal skin) and adaptability and you have an effective aircraft.

Not something HOI models well though, the Hurricane really should be the multi-role aircraft with ground attack ability while the Spit is the pure air to air interceptor. But then I suppose that doesn't fit the tech tree so neatly.
 
BritishImperial The Line did so action although not until the battle was already decided.

El Pip I share your sentiment versus the Hurricane, but I was going with the HOI2 tech tree, so I portraied the Hurricane that way.
 
Good Luck defeating the Third Reich and Russia combined. :eek: ;) :D
 
And the gods of war start to shout ever louder... I always defend France as Britain, whatever the pointlessness of it.
 
Lord Strange said:
And the gods of war start to shout ever louder... I always defend France as Britain, whatever the pointlessness of it.
I would vote for abandoning them, but it would be very un-historic and would never happen in real life. Besides, the French already disagree the Brits enough in this AAR. :eek:
 
humancalculator Well, I have three things in my advantage: Island position, the Royal Navy and the human factor, I think I will manage. Seriously, I think I will go into the savegame and give you a picture of Britain as it is now. However it goes it will be a very, very long war.

Lord Strange "Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war" was what I had in mind. Both are fitting though.
 
humancalculator said:
I would vote for abandoning them, but it would be very un-historic and would never happen in real life. Besides, the French already disagree the Brits enough in this AAR. :eek:


Indeed. I only defend France for RP and story reasons, and I plan to pull the BEF back before it gets encircled and back to Britain if/when the situation deteriorates too much.
 


A bit out of date as that Screenshot is from May 1939, but aside from some additional Divisions earmarked for the BEF nothing has changed. Lucky for me the 1938 scenario includes at least one GAR division in each beach province.
 
ArchdukePaul said:
Truly great progress since I've last checked. This is a truly magnificent AAR and now you have opened the jar and left wanting more with that screenshot.

Simply amazing!

Glad you like it. Update to follow!
 
Chapter 56

DevestationofthePoValley.jpg

September 2nd, 1939

No. 10 Downing Street, London, around 5:45 AM

Winston Churchill was sleeping the sleep of the just. After three days without it even his Body could hold no longer and the insistence of his Wife, his Bodyguard and the Foreign Secretary had forced him to retire to his rooms in the residence, to catch at least a few hours. That had been three hours ago and now he was deeply asleep, with Thompson, his trusted guard and friend standing watch outside his door. Now, somewhat to Tomphson's dismay, an Officer in the uniform of the Royal Marines came running down the corridor. “I need to speak the Prime Minister. It is very urgent.” “Can't that wait until tomorrow? We barely got him to sleep in the first place!” Thompson whispered back. “Afraid not, Mr. Thompson.” With a deep sigh Thompson conceded the door and the two men stepped into the room. “Prime Minister, Sir, wake up!” Churchill instantly opened his eyes. “What is it, Thompson? Can't a men get a few hours of bloody sleep?” “There's a messenger here, Sir, it seems he comes from the War Room, Sir.” The Marine stepped forward and said, after coming to attention: “Sir, Radio Warsaw reports that German and Soviet Artillery have started shelling Polish border positions. Our Embassy in Warsaw reports massive overflights of heavy aircraft and the Admiralty states that one of our cruisers has been torpedoed in the north sea. With the compliments of Admiral Cunningham, he told me to tell you that in his opinion it has started and that he is off to his Command.” Churchill had been sitting at 'Artillery' and out of the bed at 'border'. By 'Cunningham' he had shed his night jacket and had donned one of his suits, ready to move to the Bunkered Cabinet war room. “Has the Imperial General Staff been notified?” “Yes, Sir. “ Churchill put on his hat and was ready to go. “Good. Make sure that his Majesty has been notified and send to following to all commands of all Services as soon as we have confirmation. Also make sure that the French know about it, and the Dominions.” He quickly dictated a short message and then proceeded to quickly walk the short way to the entrance of the bunker. Once there he was awaited by most of the Cabinet, and knowing that most of them hadn't even left yet he ordered a new round of Tea to be made. “Confirmation, we need confirmation gentlemen.” “It has been confirmed Sir!” a signal officer yelled. “Radio Berlin and Radio Moscow are transmitting this continuously. I took the liberty and had a transcript made and translated as soon as we noticed it.” He handed Churchill a piece of paper. Churchill read it carefully. After two minutes he raised his had and said, with eternal sadness in his voice: “Gentlemen, it seems we are once again at war. Let's get to work.”

HMS Hood, on patrol in the south-eastern North Sea.

Not unlike the Prime Minister Captain Murray was asleep. The situation was not different from when he had his encounter with Bismarck, only that this time the entire Home Fleet was at see. All around Hood the massive shapes of the Battleships, the small forms of the cruisers and Destroyers could be seen in the beginning morning light. But Captain Murray did not see this, yet. He was rudely awoken by a knock on his door. “Enter, and it better be good.” he said, while starting to get off his bunk. A yeoman was at the door. “Sir, urgent signal from the Admiralty.” Murray was up, yawned and took the message form. He unfolded it, read it and nearly let it fall to the deck.


From: Admiralty
To: Any and all ships
Commence warfare against any and all Axis Pact forces by land, sea and air.
Commence operations against enemy merchant shipping.
Good luck and God save the King.​



Murray raised the telephone that connected him to the Bridge. “Officer of the Watch, get the ship to action stations immediately. I'll be there shortly.” He turned to the Yeoman and said amidst to wailing of the ship's siren: “Make sure that the CinC on the Rodney received this, then get to your station post haste.” The Captain did not wait for acknowledgement and raced to the bridge, on the way there putting on the rest of his Uniform. When he reached the Bridge the sirens had stopped and the duty crew stood on station, busy looking out for anything that might warrant such an order at this unusual time. “All turrets report ready to fire. Secondaries report ready, RDF plot is clear except for the fleet, Engineer reports ready, Sir.” the OOW reported. Before Murray could answer a very grumpy looking Lieutenant Phillips entered the Bridge and relieved the OOW handing the Captain another message form, this time from the CinC Home Fleet. Murray read it and activated the intercom and addressed the ships company. “Gentlemen, we just received a signal from the Admiralty and another one from the CinC. It seems it is official now, we are in a shooting war against the Axis. German and Soviet Troops have crossed the border into Poland, and as a result of that the Allies are now at war with the Axis. The Prime Minister and the Ling will talk to the nation tomorrow, but we are already instructed to do our jobs. As per the CinCs orders 1. Battlecruiser Squadron will detach from the Main Body and start scouting operations. Gentlemen, I know that this is a sad day for all of us. Remember your training. England expects that every man will do his duty. God save the King.” He replaced the phone and looked around the bridge, taking in the gloomy mood that had befallen the other men there. 'Was this how Nelson had felt at the eve of Trafalgar?' he wondered. Nelson always had been his great idol, and he often thought about what Horatio Nelson would have said about the Hood.

All over Europe, 8:22 AM

The Polish Army was already disintegrating. After only a few hours the relentless shelling and the constant Air attacks by the Axis had forced unit after unit to fall back, turning what had started as an orderly retreat into a rout, an Army into a disorganized mob of men and machines fleeing south as fast as they could. In places however single Polish Companies and regiments offered fanatical resistance to the attacking German and Soviet spearheads, decimating the advanced formations until they too succumbed under the combined weight of German and Soviet Steel. In the Air the Axis Air Forces relentlessly hammered Polish infrastructure and Airfields, the small but determined Polish Air Force fighting back but being overwhelmed by the massive hordes of German and Soviet Aircraft. In Warsaw the mood was gloomy but at the same time determined. The Polish Government had if not known then suspected that the French would not come to their aid in time, so the Polish capital had been turned into a fortress. Bunkers had been dug, supplies and Arms stockpiled, resources been brought to factories that would churn out weapons and munitions until the last second. Warsaw would hold, hold as long as possible, even if they were betrayed by the Allies then at least they would keep their honour. Radio Warsaw was on the air 24 hours a day now, alternating between transmitting please for western help, the announcement of the invasion and the National Anthem, intended to be a beacon of hope for those in the field and abroad. The Government was in a bunker, determined to fight to the end, as was every Warzaw citizen, recruitment offices and militia training centres overflowing with volunteers of all ages. In Berlin and Moscow two leaders were rubbing their hands, satisfied with the stunned reaction of the poles. In Paris the Government was only now being awoken by the news. Over the Franco-German border Allied and Axis pilots were already engaged in a deathly struggle, having taken off at first light. On the seas the few German and Soviet U-Boats at sea were prowling on lone allied merchantmen, who were already steaming towards Allied ports, to await the formation of the convoys behind the security of the shore batteries. The rest of the world lay asleep, ignorant of the event in Europe that would shake the earth to it's very core. A war to involve millions had begun.


[Game Notes: Here it is then. Fifty-five chapters, roughly 2 million keystrokes, endless hours, countless cups of coffee and a Computer later we are finally here. World War 2. It seemed a bit anti-climatic to me, but what I had at first didn't work out IMHO, so here's the toned down version. Captain Murray and Lieutenant Phillips will be my primary RN characters btw, so expect more form them.]
 
Looks like war's started. I guess a British landing on the German coast to rescue the poles is out of the question :p