Greattttt!
Been reading your work. Very impressive style.
Keep it coming and can we get some maps?
Been reading your work. Very impressive style.
Keep it coming and can we get some maps?
-
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Stalingrad - The movie
Worth a very long look! Made in the 50's or 60's by a German producer and caused a mass hysteria in Germany because they never realised just how bad their loss there was until the movie was shown.
Subtitles mean it is best viewed over and over and over and over and over and over!
Not that I would do that.........
Duritz.
P.S. Wow! That fight see nwas so formulaic! Loved it!
Stalingrad - the movie. And a few notes about us danes.
Well the stalingrad movie that I know is from 1993 and it is (as previosly mentioned) great. A german "saving private Ryan" but stripped of unrealistic heroism and happy ending. See http://us.imdb.com/Title?0108211 for further info.
A few notes on the Danish WWII history discussed earlier in the thread. We don't have much to be proud of. Overrun before lunch and the danish government and royalty cooperated with the Germans up until 1943. We were in many ways a german experiment, where they allowed us some independence and instead they didn't have to deploy nearly as many troops compared to e.g. Norway. After Stalingrad (when it became obvious even to the danes that the germans were losing) the cooperating policies fell through, the danish police (that had actively helped the germans capture the danish communists including members of the parliament and thus violating the constitution) where dissolved and resistance movements (until that point called terrorists by the danish government) grew beyond insignifficance.
So is there nothing that we can pride ourselves in. Well nearly all of the danish jews managed to escape to Sweden. This is something that danes never forget to mention, but what is often left out is that this was only made possible by a tip from the german authorities in DK. They simply warned the danish jews and then looked the other way as they escaped across the Øresund. That had to take some guts from the german governor Werner Best. More guts than from the danish fishermen that sailed the jews across the sound and demanded incredible amounts of money for doing it.
So all in all we were in many respects lucky to be considered an allied after the war. This was to a large extent the result of the danish government in excile led by conservative politician Christmas Møller (sic!) and the danish resistance movement (until 1943 almost exclusively made up by communist groups) that in the last part of the war actually did make some ... resistance to the german occupation.
All in all more danes fought on the german side than on the allied. The king himself directly encouraged this in a radio speech.
Whether we should have put up more of a fight is still debated in Denmark. The "resistance was futile" arguments still have proponents, since we got through the war a lot easier than e.g. our neighbours in Norway.
Finally about this thread. Great reading though I have a fealing that the game behind this actually wasn't that exciting. I've played many games that were a lot more dramatic. This AAR though manages to produce that drama in itself. Keep it up.
Well the stalingrad movie that I know is from 1993 and it is (as previosly mentioned) great. A german "saving private Ryan" but stripped of unrealistic heroism and happy ending. See http://us.imdb.com/Title?0108211 for further info.
A few notes on the Danish WWII history discussed earlier in the thread. We don't have much to be proud of. Overrun before lunch and the danish government and royalty cooperated with the Germans up until 1943. We were in many ways a german experiment, where they allowed us some independence and instead they didn't have to deploy nearly as many troops compared to e.g. Norway. After Stalingrad (when it became obvious even to the danes that the germans were losing) the cooperating policies fell through, the danish police (that had actively helped the germans capture the danish communists including members of the parliament and thus violating the constitution) where dissolved and resistance movements (until that point called terrorists by the danish government) grew beyond insignifficance.
So is there nothing that we can pride ourselves in. Well nearly all of the danish jews managed to escape to Sweden. This is something that danes never forget to mention, but what is often left out is that this was only made possible by a tip from the german authorities in DK. They simply warned the danish jews and then looked the other way as they escaped across the Øresund. That had to take some guts from the german governor Werner Best. More guts than from the danish fishermen that sailed the jews across the sound and demanded incredible amounts of money for doing it.
So all in all we were in many respects lucky to be considered an allied after the war. This was to a large extent the result of the danish government in excile led by conservative politician Christmas Møller (sic!) and the danish resistance movement (until 1943 almost exclusively made up by communist groups) that in the last part of the war actually did make some ... resistance to the german occupation.
All in all more danes fought on the german side than on the allied. The king himself directly encouraged this in a radio speech.
Whether we should have put up more of a fight is still debated in Denmark. The "resistance was futile" arguments still have proponents, since we got through the war a lot easier than e.g. our neighbours in Norway.
Finally about this thread. Great reading though I have a fealing that the game behind this actually wasn't that exciting. I've played many games that were a lot more dramatic. This AAR though manages to produce that drama in itself. Keep it up.
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1: we should have mobilized the army when we were warned
2: we should have set up a defensive line at the Limfjord thus protecting the airfield in Aalborg thus denying the Germans the closest airfield to Norway as an operation base for the Luftwaffe
3: Give up Copenhagen to spare it from a bombardment.
4: Let the government set up an exile government in UK
5: as fast as possible ask the allies to protect poor little week Denmark (Preferably before the Germans attack)
2: we should have set up a defensive line at the Limfjord thus protecting the airfield in Aalborg thus denying the Germans the closest airfield to Norway as an operation base for the Luftwaffe
3: Give up Copenhagen to spare it from a bombardment.
4: Let the government set up an exile government in UK
5: as fast as possible ask the allies to protect poor little week Denmark
(Preferably before the Germans attack)
Simply brilliant.
You have saved me from some extremely boring hours at work this week.
You have saved me from some extremely boring hours at work this week.
RH-
July 9, 2003
Zeebon Morgo frowned as he tapped through the pages on his display. He shoveled a steady supply of funnel cakes into his eating jaw, licking fragments out of his baleen.
"Veenok!" Veenok glanced up from the pile of papers on his desk, rubbing his primary eyes in exhaustion.
"What is it, Lord High Editor-in-Chief?"
"This Earth-thing is mocking me!"
Veenok set his chin on his fist and drummed his fingers on the desk. "I can't imagine why he would do that, sir."
"Look! Right here! He's lowering a CURTAIN over me! As though I'm supposed to be hidden away from sight!" Zeebon's threat fronds slid out and trembled, the eye-spots glaring menacingly over his furiously frowning face. "I should eat him! Then he'll know the meaning of Horror! And... uh... Veenok, how should I teach him the meaning of Rocky?" Veenok held up a marble paperweight. "Excellent! I'll smash in his skull with a paperweight and eat his brain first!" Veenok sighed.
"Actually, sir, I was wondering if you could get me a larger paperweight. Your half of the paperwork is starting to drift."
July 9, 2003
Zeebon Morgo frowned as he tapped through the pages on his display. He shoveled a steady supply of funnel cakes into his eating jaw, licking fragments out of his baleen.
"Veenok!" Veenok glanced up from the pile of papers on his desk, rubbing his primary eyes in exhaustion.
"What is it, Lord High Editor-in-Chief?"
"This Earth-thing is mocking me!"
Veenok set his chin on his fist and drummed his fingers on the desk. "I can't imagine why he would do that, sir."
"Look! Right here! He's lowering a CURTAIN over me! As though I'm supposed to be hidden away from sight!" Zeebon's threat fronds slid out and trembled, the eye-spots glaring menacingly over his furiously frowning face. "I should eat him! Then he'll know the meaning of Horror! And... uh... Veenok, how should I teach him the meaning of Rocky?" Veenok held up a marble paperweight. "Excellent! I'll smash in his skull with a paperweight and eat his brain first!" Veenok sighed.
"Actually, sir, I was wondering if you could get me a larger paperweight. Your half of the paperwork is starting to drift."
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Ah, it felt good to go back there.
Waffo- Maps coming with the next cluster of updates.
Duritz- Thanks!
USB- I didn't know a lot of that, really interesting. Thanks!
HITO- thanks!
Thames- Thanks, and likewise!
Waffo- Maps coming with the next cluster of updates.
Duritz- Thanks!
USB- I didn't know a lot of that, really interesting. Thanks!
HITO- thanks!
Thames- Thanks, and likewise!
I miss those guys... I think they should come back and give Hitler and Stalin a taste of some Zorthon medicine!
Hmm... Austria tends to have a lot of problems in HoI, I wonder who could possibly stop them then?!
Oh wait, I forgot about Laval and Gaspard and the bunch, the Zorthons don't stand a chance!
Great AAR, Pruf, long time fan here... although a not very vocal one.
October 27, 1942
Field Marshal Erwin Rommel studied the map. The Belgians in disarray, fleeing south to hide in the French fortifications. Only 20,000 men opposing the drive on Antwerp, and they were barely more than a mob with pitchforks. The British and French already fled behind the walls of Maginot du Nord.
Intelligence intercepts and reconnaisance overflights showed the Allies had no inkling of his march on Sedan. Rommel smiled grimly. He glanced briefly at the other fronts; the Russians were still stalled in eastern Poland and probing forces had brought their southern offensive to a halt along an arcing line from Budapest to Varna. Von Kluge had performed masterfully in his Alpine operations; the braggart De Gaulle had been nearly encircled in Bolzano. Of the 90,000 French soldiers, De Gaulle would be lucky to rescue 25,000.
He frowned briefly as he reviewed his manpower estimates. He'd wanted to punch through Antwerp and encircle Brussels, but the Fuhrer had overridden his plans. "They must bleed," he'd said. Bleed they had, but his men had bled too.
Rommel mumbled a quote to himself. "Another victory like this, and we shall have to surrender." He redoubled his concentration. The beginning of the end, for good or bad. Five days, and he would be in France. With a deep breath, Rommel plunged again into the maps...
Field Marshal Erwin Rommel studied the map. The Belgians in disarray, fleeing south to hide in the French fortifications. Only 20,000 men opposing the drive on Antwerp, and they were barely more than a mob with pitchforks. The British and French already fled behind the walls of Maginot du Nord.
Intelligence intercepts and reconnaisance overflights showed the Allies had no inkling of his march on Sedan. Rommel smiled grimly. He glanced briefly at the other fronts; the Russians were still stalled in eastern Poland and probing forces had brought their southern offensive to a halt along an arcing line from Budapest to Varna. Von Kluge had performed masterfully in his Alpine operations; the braggart De Gaulle had been nearly encircled in Bolzano. Of the 90,000 French soldiers, De Gaulle would be lucky to rescue 25,000.
He frowned briefly as he reviewed his manpower estimates. He'd wanted to punch through Antwerp and encircle Brussels, but the Fuhrer had overridden his plans. "They must bleed," he'd said. Bleed they had, but his men had bled too.
Rommel mumbled a quote to himself. "Another victory like this, and we shall have to surrender." He redoubled his concentration. The beginning of the end, for good or bad. Five days, and he would be in France. With a deep breath, Rommel plunged again into the maps...
I wonder how much manpower the Germans have left, anyways? Probably not much at all..
im sure the germans have reserves, not alot but they all ways do, even if its just Milita.
That's it...
I can no longer hold my silence after reviewing AAR's for the past two years...
THIS IS ONE OF THE MOST IMPECCABLE AND ENGROSSING AAR's EVER PENNED!
Not since reading Orwell have I been as engrossed by this impeccable piece of literature of a war that could have been...It even made me feel ashamed that I liked the French for once, for they actually did something in a conflict following the creation of the Republic...
And the characters are just done with incredible detail, historical or not, giving you a sense of their conflicts, their characteristics, etc.
For this, I say, rally against the night and send the Germans scurrying into Hamburg (or have I just lost my mind)...
I can no longer hold my silence after reviewing AAR's for the past two years...
THIS IS ONE OF THE MOST IMPECCABLE AND ENGROSSING AAR's EVER PENNED!
Not since reading Orwell have I been as engrossed by this impeccable piece of literature of a war that could have been...It even made me feel ashamed that I liked the French for once, for they actually did something in a conflict following the creation of the Republic...
And the characters are just done with incredible detail, historical or not, giving you a sense of their conflicts, their characteristics, etc.
For this, I say, rally against the night and send the Germans scurrying into Hamburg (or have I just lost my mind)...
Alikchi & M-Dog: The Germans still have hundreds of thousands of men left. Ech.
Inquis: Thanks!
Inquis: Thanks!
November 28, 1942
“M’sieurs et madames, bonsoir.” The smooth announcer’s voice, so calm, so unruffled. It barely seemed real. Jean Denel and his unit listened raptly. Their breath combined in a swirl of fog that drifted away from their camp, thirty kilometers west of Paris. The frontline troops were retrenching east of the city, but the government had already relocated to Vichy. A sense of panic was building throughout the country, and rumors had been flying that the government would come to an agreement with the Germans, that the Russians were sending troops, the Americans were sending troops… this unscheduled broadcast couldn’t be a good sign. This time of night, the station always played classical music, to soothe the nerves of a people staring a nightmare in the face.
“I have the great pleasure of presenting our President, His Excellency Pierre Laval.” The soldiers stirred and murmured. Laval had never addressed the nation over the wireless. Denel had heard him speak before, when he received the Legion d’Honneur for his escape from the Alps. The voice from the wireless seemed older, thinner. The voice of a man scraping up his last ounce of strength.
“People of France, my brothers and sisters. Good evening. I will be frank with you. We have suffered great losses in this war, and our travails are not over. Tonight, we have received confirmation that Hitler’s forces march on Paris. The German has summoned up his last reserves and the outcome of the war now stands on a razor’s edge, on one last battle.
“Since the dawn of time, France has looked east in the morning to see the sun rising. One morning, we looked up and saw only darkness in the east. That darkness now threatens to envelop us, and the world. You have seen the reports, the photographs, the movie reels that the Soviets have produced from eastern Poland. There are rumors that this is all propaganda, that not even the Nazis could be capable of such horror. I tell you today, these accusations are true. Agents inform us that the same horrors are being visited on the Dutch, the Belgians, and surely they shall be inflicted on us.
“We have a grave responsibility, therefore. We fight now not simply for the survival of our nation. We fight for the very soul of humanity. Should we fail, should we fall under the German heel, then the darkness will spread unchecked. We cannot falter. We must fight with every ounce of strength, we must fight in the hedgerows, in the fields, in the cities. We must strive and we must prevail. And we will.
“This, then, is our nation’s destiny- to fight, to bleed, and, yes, to triumph.
“All of our struggles are come to this point. Our sacrifices, our blood and our tears, all will be rewarded this day. This day, France will stand against the night.”
The pause seemed to go on forever. Denel did not feel the cold, and he did not feel the need that had coursed through his veins. After an eternity, the radio crackled back into life, and a swell of violins rolled across the camp like a gilded carriage, a beautiful chariot. The voice of Edith Piaf swelled, in a new song.
“Oh, my little soldier boy, oh, how you have grown,
I can’t believe you’re gone.
Oh, my little soldier boy, what times are these?
I can’t believe you’re gone.
I’m looking east now, and I can only see the moon,
I cannot see your face.
I know you’re looking back at me,
But I cannot see your face…”
The song went on, and the soldiers could hear Edith’s heart breaking in every word. Their hearts broke too. Silent tears drifted down more than one face. Suddenly, the pained heartbeat of the rhythm stirred to life, and courage seeped back into Edith’s beautiful voice. Her words swelled into a hymn of hope.
”But I know you’ll be back soon, I know that you’ll be fine,
I know we’ll walk again among the trees.
Those quiet trees in our old path,
You will walk again with me.”
“M’sieurs et madames, merci beacoup.” The radio went silent. Denel switched it off. The soldiers huddled around the fire looked at each other. The speech and Edith Piaf’s beautiful song had given them something they hadn’t had in a long time. A vision of hope. A vision of peace. They went back to their work with a new determination in their hearts. This war wasn’t over yet, Denel thought. It was just getting started.
“M’sieurs et madames, bonsoir.” The smooth announcer’s voice, so calm, so unruffled. It barely seemed real. Jean Denel and his unit listened raptly. Their breath combined in a swirl of fog that drifted away from their camp, thirty kilometers west of Paris. The frontline troops were retrenching east of the city, but the government had already relocated to Vichy. A sense of panic was building throughout the country, and rumors had been flying that the government would come to an agreement with the Germans, that the Russians were sending troops, the Americans were sending troops… this unscheduled broadcast couldn’t be a good sign. This time of night, the station always played classical music, to soothe the nerves of a people staring a nightmare in the face.
“I have the great pleasure of presenting our President, His Excellency Pierre Laval.” The soldiers stirred and murmured. Laval had never addressed the nation over the wireless. Denel had heard him speak before, when he received the Legion d’Honneur for his escape from the Alps. The voice from the wireless seemed older, thinner. The voice of a man scraping up his last ounce of strength.
“People of France, my brothers and sisters. Good evening. I will be frank with you. We have suffered great losses in this war, and our travails are not over. Tonight, we have received confirmation that Hitler’s forces march on Paris. The German has summoned up his last reserves and the outcome of the war now stands on a razor’s edge, on one last battle.
“Since the dawn of time, France has looked east in the morning to see the sun rising. One morning, we looked up and saw only darkness in the east. That darkness now threatens to envelop us, and the world. You have seen the reports, the photographs, the movie reels that the Soviets have produced from eastern Poland. There are rumors that this is all propaganda, that not even the Nazis could be capable of such horror. I tell you today, these accusations are true. Agents inform us that the same horrors are being visited on the Dutch, the Belgians, and surely they shall be inflicted on us.
“We have a grave responsibility, therefore. We fight now not simply for the survival of our nation. We fight for the very soul of humanity. Should we fail, should we fall under the German heel, then the darkness will spread unchecked. We cannot falter. We must fight with every ounce of strength, we must fight in the hedgerows, in the fields, in the cities. We must strive and we must prevail. And we will.
“This, then, is our nation’s destiny- to fight, to bleed, and, yes, to triumph.
“All of our struggles are come to this point. Our sacrifices, our blood and our tears, all will be rewarded this day. This day, France will stand against the night.”
The pause seemed to go on forever. Denel did not feel the cold, and he did not feel the need that had coursed through his veins. After an eternity, the radio crackled back into life, and a swell of violins rolled across the camp like a gilded carriage, a beautiful chariot. The voice of Edith Piaf swelled, in a new song.
“Oh, my little soldier boy, oh, how you have grown,
I can’t believe you’re gone.
Oh, my little soldier boy, what times are these?
I can’t believe you’re gone.
I’m looking east now, and I can only see the moon,
I cannot see your face.
I know you’re looking back at me,
But I cannot see your face…”
The song went on, and the soldiers could hear Edith’s heart breaking in every word. Their hearts broke too. Silent tears drifted down more than one face. Suddenly, the pained heartbeat of the rhythm stirred to life, and courage seeped back into Edith’s beautiful voice. Her words swelled into a hymn of hope.
”But I know you’ll be back soon, I know that you’ll be fine,
I know we’ll walk again among the trees.
Those quiet trees in our old path,
You will walk again with me.”
“M’sieurs et madames, merci beacoup.” The radio went silent. Denel switched it off. The soldiers huddled around the fire looked at each other. The speech and Edith Piaf’s beautiful song had given them something they hadn’t had in a long time. A vision of hope. A vision of peace. They went back to their work with a new determination in their hearts. This war wasn’t over yet, Denel thought. It was just getting started.
ah! The French have regained their heart! Most excellent. Now kick some nazi butt!
Was that speech one that Laval delivered IRL, or did you write it yourself? Because if you did, wow. You are an amazing writer.
