Don't you dare leave me hanging at the start of battle!
I'm looking forward to seeing what happens next.
I'm looking forward to seeing what happens next.-
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May 8, 1940
Genoa. Again.
Denel marched silently through the rubble of the ancient buildings. This time, both armies had pledged to leave the downtown an open city, but a man under fire didn’t care much about an imaginary line. And accidents will happen. The first time the French had pushed through, Genoa had been scarred. Now it was levelled. Denel kicked at a piece of marble.
”Goddamn waste, Sergeant.” Nicoletti lit a fresh cigarette. Denel nodded. He lifted his hand and gestured the squad forward. By twos, his men trotted up. The Italian offensive had petered out before the fortifications on the French border, and now Denel’s Second Corps was rolling the Italians up before them. There was something big in the air back at HQ, but mere sergeants didn’t rate high on the “need to know” list. His orders were just to hold the line here.
“Jacques, Roland, on that roof. Bernard, Patrice, Henri, you take position in that building. Giacomo, you’re with me.” Nicoletti went into a crouch as he followed Denel through the maze of fallen bricks and burnt frames. Suddenly, Nicoletti grunted and a wet smacking noise came from him, a second before a report echoed through the streets. Denel threw himself to the ground and screamed.
“SNIPER! SNIPER!” Nicoletti groaned.
“Goddammit, my arm! Goddammit!” Denel glanced back.
”Quiet, for God’s sake. That won’t even get you off the front line.” Denel took the safety off his Renault and scanned the nearby buildings. Too much smoke, too many echoes… no way to know where the bastard was. Denel slapped Nicoletti on his good shoulder and started backing up. A bullet kicked up dust next to him, and in unspoken agreement both men got up and ran back to the squad. Denel shouted up to Jacques Revalle.
“Any sign?” Revalle grunted, sweeping his sniper rifle back and forth.
“You’ll know.” Two minutes passed. Suddenly, Revalle whipped his rifle up and snapped off two shots. “That’s got it.” Denel stood.
“Henri, Bernard.” The two men vaulted out of their position and ran, Revalle shouting the position. Six minutes later, they returned, carrying a hunting rifle.
“Couldn’t have been more than sixteen, seventeen. Militia.” Denel nodded. The radio squawked, and Denel picked up the handset.
“Yes. Acknowledged. Yes. One injured. Yes.” Denel hung the handset back up and grinned. “That bastard De Gaulle! That beautiful bastard!” Nicoletti gave in first.
“What?”
“De Gaulle broke the Italian line in the Alps and he’s back in Milan. There’s 150,000 Italian troops surrounded here in Genoa, and their commander’s talking surrender. All we have to do is sit tight.” Denel dug into his pocket and fished out a cigarette. “God, I love sitting tight.”
Genoa. Again.
Denel marched silently through the rubble of the ancient buildings. This time, both armies had pledged to leave the downtown an open city, but a man under fire didn’t care much about an imaginary line. And accidents will happen. The first time the French had pushed through, Genoa had been scarred. Now it was levelled. Denel kicked at a piece of marble.
”Goddamn waste, Sergeant.” Nicoletti lit a fresh cigarette. Denel nodded. He lifted his hand and gestured the squad forward. By twos, his men trotted up. The Italian offensive had petered out before the fortifications on the French border, and now Denel’s Second Corps was rolling the Italians up before them. There was something big in the air back at HQ, but mere sergeants didn’t rate high on the “need to know” list. His orders were just to hold the line here.
“Jacques, Roland, on that roof. Bernard, Patrice, Henri, you take position in that building. Giacomo, you’re with me.” Nicoletti went into a crouch as he followed Denel through the maze of fallen bricks and burnt frames. Suddenly, Nicoletti grunted and a wet smacking noise came from him, a second before a report echoed through the streets. Denel threw himself to the ground and screamed.
“SNIPER! SNIPER!” Nicoletti groaned.
“Goddammit, my arm! Goddammit!” Denel glanced back.
”Quiet, for God’s sake. That won’t even get you off the front line.” Denel took the safety off his Renault and scanned the nearby buildings. Too much smoke, too many echoes… no way to know where the bastard was. Denel slapped Nicoletti on his good shoulder and started backing up. A bullet kicked up dust next to him, and in unspoken agreement both men got up and ran back to the squad. Denel shouted up to Jacques Revalle.
“Any sign?” Revalle grunted, sweeping his sniper rifle back and forth.
“You’ll know.” Two minutes passed. Suddenly, Revalle whipped his rifle up and snapped off two shots. “That’s got it.” Denel stood.
“Henri, Bernard.” The two men vaulted out of their position and ran, Revalle shouting the position. Six minutes later, they returned, carrying a hunting rifle.
“Couldn’t have been more than sixteen, seventeen. Militia.” Denel nodded. The radio squawked, and Denel picked up the handset.
“Yes. Acknowledged. Yes. One injured. Yes.” Denel hung the handset back up and grinned. “That bastard De Gaulle! That beautiful bastard!” Nicoletti gave in first.
“What?”
“De Gaulle broke the Italian line in the Alps and he’s back in Milan. There’s 150,000 Italian troops surrounded here in Genoa, and their commander’s talking surrender. All we have to do is sit tight.” Denel dug into his pocket and fished out a cigarette. “God, I love sitting tight.”
Great update, seems Denel and the gang had to do very little work. Could you give us a more solid update With the German front in it? You seem to have the Italians under control, you just need to keep the Maginot/Gamelin line from breaking.
July 12, 1940
Laval studied the map, pulling on his cigar in satisfaction. The Italians had been pushed back out of Milan and La Spezia, and they’d lost another field army to surrender. They were practically out of the war. The French had suffered grim losses, especially in the recent naval battle in the harbor outside Naples, but the Italian losses were totally irrecoverable. And Duval, God bless him, had taken Sicily with the loss of just two hundred men. Another campaign like the recently concluded Second Alpine, with another hundred thousand dead and wounded… Laval shuddered. And six weeks to the election. Lucky, lucky…
Verdillac came up and saluted. Laval snapped the salute back.
“Congratulations, Field Marshal.” Verdillac blushed with pleasure. His promotion had been unexpected, but he was an able general and he was already mastering his new duties.
“Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.” Verdillac held out a freshly typed report. “My new Seventh Armee will be ready for battle and at the Italian lines by the end of October. Operation Bonaparte is on schedule. My boys will do the job.” Laval grinned and shook Verdillac’s hand. A secretary burst in, palefaced and shaken. Laval frowned.
“Will you excuse us, Field Marshal? I’ve been expecting a report.” Verdillac saluted crisply and left the room. Laval leaned forward.
“I’m not going to like your news, am I?” The secretary shook his head.
“I’m afraid not, M’sieur President. Agent Bourchard was caught red-handed with the gold.” Laval groaned.
“Any response yet?” The secretary shook his head.
“No, sir. Although we’ve received news that martial law was declared this afternoon. It looks like they’re gearing up for war.” Laval slammed his fist on the desk.
“I should have known my luck wouldn’t hold forever.”
Laval studied the map, pulling on his cigar in satisfaction. The Italians had been pushed back out of Milan and La Spezia, and they’d lost another field army to surrender. They were practically out of the war. The French had suffered grim losses, especially in the recent naval battle in the harbor outside Naples, but the Italian losses were totally irrecoverable. And Duval, God bless him, had taken Sicily with the loss of just two hundred men. Another campaign like the recently concluded Second Alpine, with another hundred thousand dead and wounded… Laval shuddered. And six weeks to the election. Lucky, lucky…
Verdillac came up and saluted. Laval snapped the salute back.
“Congratulations, Field Marshal.” Verdillac blushed with pleasure. His promotion had been unexpected, but he was an able general and he was already mastering his new duties.
“Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.” Verdillac held out a freshly typed report. “My new Seventh Armee will be ready for battle and at the Italian lines by the end of October. Operation Bonaparte is on schedule. My boys will do the job.” Laval grinned and shook Verdillac’s hand. A secretary burst in, palefaced and shaken. Laval frowned.
“Will you excuse us, Field Marshal? I’ve been expecting a report.” Verdillac saluted crisply and left the room. Laval leaned forward.
“I’m not going to like your news, am I?” The secretary shook his head.
“I’m afraid not, M’sieur President. Agent Bourchard was caught red-handed with the gold.” Laval groaned.
“Any response yet?” The secretary shook his head.
“No, sir. Although we’ve received news that martial law was declared this afternoon. It looks like they’re gearing up for war.” Laval slammed his fist on the desk.
“I should have known my luck wouldn’t hold forever.”
You managed to squeeze all that out of Lebanon and Vietnam? (French Africa is pretty resource-less AFAIK)
Looks like the majority of Italy is undefended. You could take the province with the biplane and cut off two provinces worth of the Italian army.
You could also do an amphibious assault somewhere along the Italian coast like Anicosti and march straight to Rome splitting the country in half.
You could also do an amphibious assault somewhere along the Italian coast like Anicosti and march straight to Rome splitting the country in half.
For the first and last time- I have plenty of rubber. I didn't expand my industry very much, and a lot of it was down while I finished the Little Maginot. Also, those Italian provinces produce a lot of coal and iron. I maxed out my resources honestly. *folds arms* And if you don't believe it, I'll roll up my sleeves and whup you one! You whippersnappers! *shakes cane*
JP- Oh, I have plans for Italy. Oh yes.
JP- Oh, I have plans for Italy. Oh yes.
Heh, the more things change, the more they stay the same. Sure, it may be 500 years on, but France is still engaging in its Italian adventures.
The German front is VERY scary. Im not sure I want to see what happens when they finally gear up.
The German front is VERY scary. Im not sure I want to see what happens when they finally gear up.
Actually, I think the German front looks pretty solid. Having 44 divs in the "vulnerable" spot makes that line darn near impregnable.
I have to agree with Sharur. Looks like the germans could be in big trouble. Especially if they go around attacking tanks again with cavalry.
Great updates Prufrock!
Great updates Prufrock!
But if they launch a "Schwerpunkt" operation with a few division of tanks at one spot, and achieve a breakthrough, then your screwed.
Yeah, that's obviously a weak point, but I wouldn't give the AI much chance of thinking of that
Of course, it wouldn't hurt for Prufrock to put all of his produced divisions for the time being into Sedan and Lille. Speaking of which, wasn't there supposed to be a fortress in Lille
There is, but it's off the border of that picture.
I'm proud to see I've sparked such debate.
Thanks, everybody. More to come soon.
I'm proud to see I've sparked such debate.
Thanks, everybody. More to come soon.
