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Rensslaer

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Lord E -- Oops! I remember reading that, but my mind's eye assumed he was pulling troops from Britain.

Are there no other troops in Britain?! :eek: I have to admit I don't know the status of the British military.

Surely it's still small, but are all these divisions deployed already?

Fighting on the razor's edge, Draco! A near-run thing, but you're still doing amazingly well. It speaks well that you attempted to keep from losing ANY of the allies!!!

Rensslaer
 

unmerged(24320)

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Rensslaer: Lord E -- Oops! I remember reading that, but my mind's eye assumed he was pulling troops from Britain.

i realized that he was pulling the Marines from Denmark. what i don't understand is why pull the Marines from Denmark when any troops in England would be closer to the Eastern Mediterranean than any troops in Denmark. :wacko:

even so, excellent update! ! :cool:
 

unmerged(58852)

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GhostWriter said:
Rensslaer: Lord E -- Oops! I remember reading that, but my mind's eye assumed he was pulling troops from Britain.

i realized that he was pulling the Marines from Denmark. what i don't understand is why pull the Marines from Denmark when any troops in England would be closer to the Eastern Mediterranean than any troops in Denmark. :wacko:

even so, excellent update! ! :cool:

If I recall corretly the army won't be ready to move for several weeks yet. Still it looks like the RMC will be streached a bit thin...
 

Lord E

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Rensslaer said:
Lord E -- Oops! I remember reading that, but my mind's eye assumed he was pulling troops from Britain.

Are there no other troops in Britain?! :eek: I have to admit I don't know the status of the British military.

Surely it's still small, but are all these divisions deployed already?

Fighting on the razor's edge, Draco! A near-run thing, but you're still doing amazingly well. It speaks well that you attempted to keep from losing ANY of the allies!!!

Rensslaer
GhostWriter said:
Rensslaer: Lord E -- Oops! I remember reading that, but my mind's eye assumed he was pulling troops from Britain.

i realized that he was pulling the Marines from Denmark. what i don't understand is why pull the Marines from Denmark when any troops in England would be closer to the Eastern Mediterranean than any troops in Denmark. :wacko:

even so, excellent update! ! :cool:

Well from what I understood from the earlier post where it is decided to send the Marines to Denmark, the Army wasn’t ready or capable of undertaking any operations abroad at that time, if I understand correctly the same is probably the case here. The army has still not finished preparing and loading onto their transports to be shipped abroad, and it won’t be ready for some time yet so therefore the only force that was ready to undertake operations and that had their transports ready to transport them at the current time was the Royal Marines and therefore they had to leave Denmark. Also the Marines are supposed to be the Empire’s quick response team, and I presume the army wouldn’t be ready to sail before Yugoslavia had fallen while the Marines can get their quick enough to at least try to save as much as possible. I guess all we can do is hope that the Army will speed up their preparations and get to Denmark very soon or else I think it will be necessary to use all available shipping to get the paratroopers out as well…
Also I do believe Draco want to make things a little realistic and hard for himself… ;)
 

unmerged(28944)

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Lord E sees the truth!

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE - Part Two


The Retaliation​


Germany’s sudden and devastating attack across a very broad front, completely overwhelmed the lightly armed forces of the Royal Airborne Army, despite several feats of heroism, and the Paras were forced out of the defensive positions they had created in and around Kiel after two days of fighting.

Withdrawing from northern Schleswig-Holstein into Kolding, the British Paras were attacked by German forces marching from Pomerania and were finding themselves caught between a hammer and an anvil with little likelihood of any assistance from the previously mauled Danish Army. With orders to defend as much Danish territory as possible without needlessly sacrificing his Army, General Browning made a possible career ending decision and ordered his regiments to make a fighting withdrawal to the north and into the Vendsyssel-Thy/Aalborg region, abandoning both Kolding, Odense, Copenhagen and Arhus to the advancing Germans.

Setting up defensive positions along the Limfjord, the shallow sound that separates Vendsyssel-Thy from the rest of the Jutland Peninsula, the Royal Airborne Army prepared to fight until relieved or no other options remained available.


Excerpt from Airborne Operations of World War Two
By Richard Fraser
Edinburgh University Press, 1972​

**

Nørresundby, Denmark
October 14, 1939
8:00 a.m.


Sitting in the small balcony over looking the bridge, Sgt. Arthur Cain looked balefully across the Limfjord and into the city of Aalborg. The days following the initial German offensive that kicked the Paras out of Kiel and then out of southern Denmark, the Germans also scored a victory when they captured Banja Luka, the capital of the Yugoslavian province of Bosnia, leaving Yugoslavia to a mere four provinces and producing grim days for the Allied cause. The grimness was brightened somewhat with the news out of Poland that according to what news that had reached the Paras, the Poles had conducted a fierce counter attack on October 10 that had succeeded in knocking von Lebb’s Heeresgruppe C from Toruń, and if rumors were to be believed, forced the Germans to withdraw the entire army group from combat to regroup itself. At least our jump into Germany served it’s purpose and gave the Poles a breather. Not that’ll do us any bloody good, Cain thought sourly, bringing his binoculars to his eyes and spying the far side of the bridge. Bloody Jerry has got more than enough fuckin’ jackboots to squash us like bugs.

“Reggie.” Scowling at the sight through his binoculars. “Call up Battalion and Regiment, let them know it looks like Jerry is going to make another attempt.”

“Right-o, Arthur,” Cain’s assistant, Corporal Reginald Brownhill. Pulling the field telephone from it’s cradle, Brownhill began speaking softly while Cain began picking up a fist full of wires and began connecting them to a series of detonators lining a shelf just below the lip of the balcony. “Kenny, Tommy! Off yer duffs! Jerry is coming for tea!”

Scrambling from the cots that they had been lounging in, the two privates raced down the stairs that led from the flat that the four Paras had commandeered as their oversight position, Private Ken Tomlin sprinting low across the street to alert the squad manning the building across the way while Private Thomas Kinkaid raced next door to the adjacent building to alert the rest of the platoon to which the four men had been attached. As the sole remaining demolitions squad within the entire battalion, the four men had been given the duty of setting the explosives that had been strung beneath the bridge spanning the Limfjord, placing them to insure the greatest amount of destruction to the bridge. The four men also had been given the task of maintaining watch on the explosives to insure that when the time came the bridge would and could be blown to prevent the Germans from crossing over and crushing the weakened by still ready to fight Royal Airborne Army. While most men would grumble if not outright curse at the duty, the four men were content. As harrowing as their current position and responsibility was, they all agreed that it was far better than the spoiling raids that their new battalion commander had been sending out every night since the King’s Airborne Rifles had found themselves ordered to hold the bridge.

Watching the far shore through his own binoculars after hanging the field telephone up, Brownhill grimaced at the sight of the approaching Germans. He and the other Paras defending the northern end of the bridge had lost count of the number of attempts made by the Germans to force the bridge, each one defeated a little closer to the British positions. With the amount of artillery fire coming in and going out, the buildings on either side of the bridge were slowly being reduced to rubble, and the amount of debris on the road way leading up the bridge was beginning to make the road almost impassable to anything larger than a motorcycle or bicycle, and Brownhill wondered again how it was that bridge and their explosives had yet to succumb to the bombardment.

thebridge.jpg

The Limfjord bridge after several days of fighting

“Looks like we hav’ a’ least a reinforced company, maybe a battalion makin’ the attempt this time, Arthur.”

“Great. Who’d you speak wit ov’r at Battalion,” Cain grimaced as he finished his wiring and placing the detentors down picking up his own binoculars to see the approaching Germans himself.

“O’Rourke, who I might add,” Brownhill answered with an evil grin, “was mos’ displeased at my disturbin’ ‘is breakfast.”

“Silly Irish bugger,” Cain laughed as me sat back in his chair and checked for the fifth time that morning his ammunition stores. “How long d’you think it’ll take ‘im tae figure out we here in the King’s Airborne Rifles expect our Irishmen tae work unlike those silly buggers over in the Royal Paras?”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath, if I were you, Sergeant,” a new voice replied from the doorway behind the two NCOs.

Casting baleful looks at their squad mates who walked in behind the man who had spoke, looks that were returned with looks of amusement, the two men stood quickly to their feet with their arms snapping off a salute. “Major Drake, sir, we weren’t expectin’ you,” Cain said lamely as he and Brownhill lowered their arms following their superior’s responsive salute.

“Obviously, Sergeant, obviously.”

Casting a quick look at Brownhill, Cain shrugged his sholders slightly while his battalion commander remained in the shadows of the balcony doorway and peered through his binoculars at the far side of the Limfjord. The men of 2nd Battalion, King’s Airborne Rifles Regiment had quickly found that their new commanding officer, even more so that the other officers of the Para Regiments, was of a different cut from the “traditional” British officer, and had a fondness of leading from the front, even if that meant literally being the first man into the thick of things. While it was still far two earlier for the men to respect Drake’s qualities as a commanding officer, once they were able to confirm that he had been recommended to receive the Victoria’s Cross in addition to the Distinguished Service Order that he had been awarded for his actions in the capture of Neumünster, their men knew that for whatever else, their new battalion commander new how to fight.

paras_SgtArthurCainandCorpRegBrownh.jpg

Drake's demolition squad
(lft to right) Pvt. Ken Tomlin, Sgt. Arthur Cain, Pvt. Thomas Kinkaid, and Corporal Reginald Brownhill

Lowering his binoculars Drake cast a wry grin at the still wary looks upon his two NCO’s faces. Motioning them resume their positions, he crossed his legs and offered the men a cigarette before lighting one of his own. Exhaling a plume of smoke while looking toward the bridge, Drake fought to prevent the strain from showing upon his face. It was only a matter of time before the Germans broke through their defenses, despite all their efforts to prevent that occurrence, and he did not wish to spend the rest of the war as a German prisoner, especially with the news that he had received that he was going to be a father again. Taking another drag from his cigarette and allowing the burning smoke to curl about in his nostrils before puffing it out, Drake focused his attention back upon his two demolitions NCOs. “I know you’re a betting man, Sergeant, so what odds are you giving this morning that we’ll be able to hold off this attack?”

How the hell does he know I’m the battalion bookie, Cain thought after a brief flare of fear. Swallowing that fear, realizing that not only was their nothing that could be done about it now but also that if Drake had a real problem with it Cain would not be sitting on the balcony but rather in some stockade back in England, he took a quick glance across the Limfjord before replying. “I’d give two ta one odds in our favor, Major.”

“That good, eh? I’d figured at least three to one against,” Drake said with a very grim smile.

“Oh, aye, I agree, Major,” Cain said with a crooked grin, “but Reggie here went and put a bee in O’Rourke’s bonnet by interruptin’ ‘is breakfast. As much as I hate to admit it, that Mick can bloody well fight when he’s well an’ truly mad.”

Drake’s answering laugh was cut short by the loud whistling sound that only comes from incoming artillery. As the three men on the balcony dove back into the interior of the flat the large shell impacted relatively unscathed building across the street and sent shards of masonry flying through the air and dust billowing about the area. Stalking back onto the balcony Drake was thankful to see that he impacted building was not the one that was housing the heavy weapons squad he had set up to cover the bridge, and even more thankful as he heard the squad opening fire with their Vickers heavy machine gun and firing off the 81-mm mortars that Drake and O’Rourke had “appropriated” from a Danish Army depot. Lifting the field telephone he spoke unconcernedly as he turned to survey the approaching Germans and more shells began screaming in from the German lines. “O’Rourke? Drake here. Alert Regiment, things are about to get a bit dicey.”



Up next: ...

Will Drake and the Paras survive?​

Will the German jackboot crush the British Defense?​
Stay tuned.​
;)
 

Kurt_Steiner

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Of course. It wouldn't be nice to kill him before the story ends.

Or would it? :rofl:
 

Vann the Red

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Seems the Paras are in a pickle at the moment. Hope the cavalry is on the way.

Vann
 

stnylan

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Well we know Drake will survive because he later writes his memoirs! As for the unit as whole, that is a different proposition. I firmly predict that they will not come through unscathed!
 

Rensslaer

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I predict that Drake will get swallowed by the beast...

And that he will eat his way out and be hungry for more!

I'd hate to see Drake captured, but if he is, it's only so he can show us his skills at escaping and sowing mayhem behind enemy lines.

Great work, Draco!

Rensslaer
 

undTirpitz

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I take blame. I went on vacation and come back to find the Empire in a not to good situation. I promise, it won't happen again! :eek:o

Great writing as always Draco! Hope you don't get killed by assignments at work.

Thanks for the appearance, I can actually see myself as a bomber, one can never have to many planes, air superiorety and bombing do win wars.

It seems quite possible that Drake might become a POW all to early, but if he gets captured I bet my tea for the day that he soon will escape/be rescued or released since he can't stop making it hard for the Jerry's. The only other option seems rather unlikely, that the RN will come with enough transports to save them at the last second.
 

Polynike

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“Yes sir,” the young pilot, who had picked up the unfathomable nick name of Polynike, replied as he stood up, slightly unsure. It was never a good thing to be singled out by an Air Vice-Marshal.


lololol nice one

can i claim royalties :)
 

Kurt_Steiner

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You shouldn't ask if you can claim the, you should ask if you're going to be paid :rofl:
 

Lord E

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Well, well Draco although I am glad to know that I have understood the situation correctly I can’t say I am glad about the development. So the paras are in quit a difficulty situation only holding on to the northern most province of Denmark. The river attack should give the Germans some troubles, but it seems they might be able to cross the bridge soon, I just hope you can destroy the bridge before the Germans get to many men across. Also the Army better hurry or else you shall have to start a Dunkirk operation in Denmark instead of France. I just hope we won’t have to wait very long for the next one, because I don’t think I can wait for much longer. I need to know what happens next ;) I know that Drake will survive, but how will the paras do and will they all end up in a German prisoner camp or will they get out to fight an other day or might we even see the British Army turn up late, but very good and then kick the Germans back. Looking forward to it :)
 

Jape

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I supose even a Danish Dunkirk isn't that bad a result, after all in OTL Denmark fell in 4 hours, an improvement all round I'd say.

Plus the Luftwaffe has been badly mauled, France is still intact, the Wehrmacht is slowed down on two eastern fronts and the British Army is far formidable than in OTL.

Every cloud... ;)
 

Sir Humphrey

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Top stuff. Lets hope they pull through. :)
 

VILenin

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The paras are certainly in quite a tight spot. That's the risk that comes with sticking your neck out: it might get chopped off. I maintain hope, however, that the situation can be salvaged or, at the very least, a Dunkerque-like evacuation orchestrated that will at least preserve the core of the British army.
 

unmerged(28944)

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CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE - Part Three

Engame for Operation Musketeer


Dear Land of Hope, thy hope is crowned.
God make thee mightier yet!
On Sov'ran brows, beloved, renowned,
Once more thy crown is set.
Thine equal laws, by Freedom gained,
Have ruled thee well and long;
By Freedom gained, by Truth maintained,
Thine Empire shall be strong.
Land of Hope and Glory, Mother of the Free,
How shall we extol thee, who are born of thee?
Wider still and wider shall thy bounds be set;
God, who made thee mighty, make thee mightier yet.
God, who made thee mighty, make thee mightier yet.
Thy fame is ancient as the days,
As Ocean large and wide:
A pride that dares, and heeds not praise,
A stern and silent pride:
Not that false joy that dreams content
With what our sires have won;
The blood a hero sire hath spent
Still nerves a hero son.​

Land of Hope and Glory​

Royal Airborne Army Headquarters
Nørresundby, Denmark
October 18, 1939
10:00 a.m.


Striding in to what had in more peaceful times been a lecture hall for a small Lutheran college and was now a conference room for the British Paras, General “Boy” Browning suppressed a grin as he watched the assembled officers leap to their feet. He could not have asked for a better group of officers to lead into combat, these men proving beyond the shadow of doubt that the fighting spirit and ability of the British soldier was the same as it was during the time of the Iron Duke, Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington.

Watching their General march up the dais in the front of the room, the Regiment and Battalion commanders of the Royal Airborne Army waited with as much patience as possible for men in the last stages of being besieged. Reaching the podium that awaited him, Browning removed his grey kid gloves and in a completely unexpected and unusual move, unbuttoned his uniform jacket that was still immaculate despite the Paras being in almost continuous combat for a fortnight and a half. Loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top button on his uniform blouse, Browning placed his hands on his hips. “Chaps, thank you for arriving promptly, I won’t hold you long as we all know Jerry will be trying to punish even more after Major Drake’s bold demolition of the Limfjord bridge in the middle of their attack four days ago.”

Waiting several seconds as the assembled officers cast approving glances at a tired looking Malcolm Drake, Browning continued briskly. “First the bad news. Straight off, the Royal Marines are not coming back and the General Staff is not sending anyone else, so we’re on our own. It seems that Jerry’s U-boats have playing havoc with the merchant marine and even the Royal Navy has been taking losses, so the North Sea has effectively cut off. No one is coming in and no one is coming out. Our dear French friends… well, we love the French, don’t we lads?”

“It seems the French,” the General continued after allowing his officers to express their affections for their ally, feelings that were shared by a clear majority of the British Empire, “are steadfastly guarding the frontier and are proud to report that they are tying down many, many divisions of Jerry’s best troops.”

“Aye, sure they be,” a disgruntled Australian accented voice called out from the center of the room.

“Now lads, let’s not be harsh,” Browning commanded. “Besides, I’d rather you direct your energies into keeping the Germans on their side of the Limfjord, thank you very much. Now moving on, our area of operations are not the only bleak spot in Europe these days. Despite our forcing the German General Staff to transfer enough divisions from Poland to react to our little excursion into northern Germany, they were able to reinforce General von Lebb’s Heeresgruppe C with sufficient forces to allow von Lebb to kill the Polish counter offensive and recapture Toruń two days ago. And while the Jerry’s were moving closer to Warsaw again, the Hungarians continued their rape of Yugoslavia with the capture of Zenica and Uzice. So we're not the only ones having a rosy time of things, what?”

Taking a pause, Browning looked about the room at the tired and battle sore men before him. Despite being pounded for eleven straight days by eight of Germany’s best divisions, all of which were fresh and close to their own supply depots, his Paras still shone with the pride that comes from not only holding their own against superior numbers, but also inflicting significant casualties to that superior host. Pulling a sheet of folded paper from his jacket pocket, Browning unfolded it while speaking. “The information that I just shared with you could have passed on to you gentlemen by courier, of which you are all aware, so you are all, I can safely conclude, wondering the real reason why I called you in from the front for this meeting.”

Holding the sheet of paper, now unfolded, in front of him, the Para General smiled slightly. “The first reason is this. A message from His Majesty that I felt should be shared with all of you, and for you to share with the men. Let me read it for you.

'All your countrymen have been following with pride and admiration the courageous resistance of the Royal Airborne Army during the continuing fighting of the last one and a half fortnights. Faced by circumstances outside their control in a position of extreme difficulty, they are displaying a gallantry which has never been surpassed in the annals of the British Army. The hearts of everyone of us at home are with you and your magnificent troops in this hour of peril.'

So, if any of the lads in the lines might be thinking that we Paras have been forgotten by England, please enlighten them.”

Glancing toward the man in the uniform of a colonel of the Danish Royal Army that had followed him into the hall, Browning heaved a heavy sigh at the sad look upon the officer’s face and then looked back to his assembled officers. “You can also pass the word that we will not be staying in Denmark for much longer.”

Impacted by the meaning of their General’s offhand pronouncement, the assembled officers looked to their mates sitting next to them or leaned forward toward Browning expectantly. Col. Walingsham of the Royal Paras cleared his throat and mentioned politely yet skeptically, “You did say that the North Sea was closed to shipping, did you not General? Are you planning to follow in the footsteps of Xenophon*?”

“And if I were, Colonel,” Browning asked with an arched eyebrow. While his face portrayed the look of a slightly outraged superior, behind that façade Browning was glad to see that at least one of his officers had not yet become numb to reality. As much as he would have liked to executed a modern day version of the ancient Greek’s triumphant, Browning knew better than most of the assembled officers of the impossibility of that feat from occurring.

“I would counsel against it, sir,” Walingsham replied after a moment’s thoughtful pause.

“Glad to hear that, Walingsham,” Browning replied with a wide smile. “No, we are leaving in the same manner that we arrived, gentleman. We are leaving by way of the RAF’s Air Transport Command.”

Quickly realizing the General’s plan, Drake allowed his fatigue to overrule his common sense. “No disrespect, General, but how are we going to pull off the feat of removing all four Regiments from our main line of defense, move them back to the airfields, load them on the Albatross’, and then take off all without the Germans getting wise to the plan and rushing into the vacuum?”

Ignoring the startled looks that played between himself and the young newly promoted major, Browning silently re-appraised the King’s former ADC. Operating on only several hours of sleep over the last week, and the lad still recognizes the problem before the majority of his brother officers, Browning thought while crossing his arms across his chest. Not only is he a tiger in battle, his excellence in small unit tactics have followed him to battalion level. This young man will go far, I think, if he stays lucking and he isn’t laid low by a bullet before this all over. Uncrossing his arms when he realized that several seconds of pained silence had passed, Browning planted his fists back upon his hips and removed his gaze from Drake and cast it about the rest of the men in the room. “Major Drake has raised a very serious question, gentleman, and one that I’m surprised that more of you haven’t raised yourselves. My compliments, Major, on having the fortitude to make your point.”

Beginning to pace in front of his officers while a very startled Drake realized what he had done, Browning explained away the question that had been raised. “At the moment, the Albatross’ are crossing the North Sea with a heavy escort of fighters and should be beginning to land within the next several hours. Approximately one hour prior to their landing, this Army’s attached artillery brigades will begin a massive bombardment of the far shore of the Limfjord, keeping Jerry’s head down and by mixing in smoke rounds with the masking our withdrawal, the boarding of the aircraft and the departure of the Albatross.”

“What of the artillery, General,” a battalion commander from the Royal Highland Paras asked as Browning finished.

“We will be forced to abandon our cannon, in order to expedite our withdrawal,” came the heavy answer, "but only after each battery has fired off it’s stock of shells and then spiked their guns. No sense in adding to Jerry’s arsenal, what?”

“My apologies again, General,” Drake said while his mind fought the engagement and sought out potential problems. “What shall we do if Jerry suspects something and begins crossing the Limsfjord before we have completed the evacuation? Who will be delegated to fight the rear-guard action?”

“No apologies needed, Major Drake. You seem in top form this morning, my compliments again, sir,” Browning replied with a respectful tip of his head. “To answer your question, I direct your attention to Colonel Anker Høyer-Larsen of the Royal Danish Army.”

Stepping forward, Høyer-Larsen smiled sadly. “Gentleman, on behalf of His Majesty, Christian X, I wish to thank you for the service you have done for Denmark in assisting in the defense of our borders. It is, however, now time for you to return to Britain so that you may recoup and take the fight to the Germans another day. To that end, His Majesty and the General Staff have been able to conglomerate enough survivors of our regiments mauled from the invasion to create a full strength regiment to support the Dronningens Livregiment* that along with several militia units are currently moving into the area as we speak. Under the command of Prince Knud, these units will take up positions just behind your current dispositions and hold fast as you and your Paras pass through. If the Germans do catch on and attempt to cross over, Prince Knud wants you all to know that we shall, no matter the cost, buy enough time for the last aircraft to depart safely.”

“What of Copenhagen, and His Majesty,” Colonel Jack Frost of the Royal Highland Paras asked with a show of concern toward the Danish capital and Royal family.

Surprised and cursing himself for being surprised at the concern echoed in the looks on Frost’s brother officers, the Dane glanced toward General Browning who gave a quick nod of his head. “Copenhagen is in good hands, Colonel. The Slesvigske Fodregiment* is has been reinforced by the arrival of the Norrlands dragonregemente*, Jämtlands fältjägarregemente*, and the Västergötlands storregemente* from our friends in Sweden. I do not doubt that Denmark will fall under the German jackboot, gentleman,” Høyer-Larsen smiled grimly, “we will make a tough enough fight of it that you will have an easy go of it when you return to the Continent.”

“Gentlemen, I will be frank,” General Browning said as the Danish officer stepped back toward the door. “Despite my firm belief that this operation will go off without a hitch, it will be a dicey affair. However, I have confidence that we will be able to succeed and I plan on being on the last Albatross just to ensure that we do succeed. Any questions?”

Seeing, after taking the time to slowly scan the faces looking back at him, that each officer understood that the gamble they were about to take was the only one that would take them back to England without going by way of German POW camps, Browning finished. “Now, I bid you to return to your Regiments, when you hear the word, move out quickly. Until we are once more all in England, may God hold us in the palm of his hand.”

Paras.jpg

the Paras​

* - Xenophon – just check out this: Xenophon
* - Dronningens Livregiment - Queen's Life Regiment
* - Slesvigske Fodregiment - Schleswig Foot Regiment
* - Norrlands dragonregemente - Norrland Dragoon Regiment
* - Jämtlands fältjägarregemente - Jemtia Field Ranger Regiment
* - Västergötlands storregemente - Westrogothia Grand Regiment



Up next: Some rational for the little Danish... expedition. :(
 

caffran

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Feb 25, 2006
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time to leave i think. unfortunatley Denmark has fallen. bring the troops back to blighty for a little R&R, they're sure to be needed again soon.

great stuff D, bring it on.

later, caff