NationStates Jolt Archive

New York State

“Yankee Doodle went to town a-riding on a pony
Cruiser tank it ran him down and now his wife gets lonely..”

As most of General Beck’s VIII Corps –veterans of Operation Minos, the liberation of Sicily- marched confidently into Buffalo, whistling as they went, many of them really did half expect to be greeted with some manner of respect, if not awe. Yes, probably those colonials whose ancestors had been forced at bayonet-point into the revolution would somehow still remember the fact, and be glad to see proper men returning. The sort who could march in formation, salute the right way, or sail across the Atlantic without being torpedoed.

Thus far the police action was all in good fun, and a hearty cheer went up through the advancing columns with news of their sister units’ apparently successful encirclment of Detroit. SOW commandos were due to drop into Flint by afternoon, too. Then we’d see whether these new weapons had been worth the expense of the Antananarivo Project.
Some jeering followed a brief panic in the forward column as an MFMkIV Wychwood Siren screamed over head with a Corsair on its tail. The unsatisfactory performance of the new Cavalry Cruiser MkII* Anti-Aircraft Sentinel, it’s supposedly radar-sighted twin 1” cannons failing to score a hit on the low-flying American aircraft, hadn’t time to dampen spirits before one of Walmington’s ever-present Dexterity Aircraft MkI** Musca did away with the star-wearing villain. Four 1” auto cannon propelled by a pair of Calarcan 3,500hp radial piston engines were proving no less dominant over the Americas than they had over Europe and Africa.

“What was ‘e doing ‘ere, anyway?” Asked one fusilier of the man nearest to him. “I thought they was naval planes, shouldn’t fleet be dealing with them?”

The man nearest, who –unnoticed to the Private- happened to be one Sergeant-Major Major, replied after a mildly disapproving grunt. “They, ah, couldn’t land them.”

“Couldn’t land ‘em..ah..oh..sir?”

“On the carriers. Couldn’t see over the nose or some such nonsense. Look alive, now!” Finished the Sgt.Major, seeing the city rise into view just as a series of flashes ahead forewarned of whistling incoming rounds.

Iansisle, the North Pacific

“Oh, for the love of..” Colonel Pierce sighed heavily as he trudged towards the waiting diplomatic transport- an ancient O/TMkI Acorn. “Haven’t we a jet for this sort of thing?”

“Ohh, I dunno about that, boyo, I don’t think I’d like that very much at all.” Sir Talfryn Cheeseman’s squeak retorted from inside the little two engine aircraft.

“Well, I’d just as soon get out of here anyway, before someone asks where we’re going. I can’t imagine anyone here’s too keen on seeing WoS and Ferrana getting too close.”

Cheeseman’s only reply as the aircraft clattered out onto the runway was a high pitched sound of uncertain meaning.

“Next stop, Davidsburg.”


(OOC: Spin off from WoS's Empire Day, which may be found here: http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=129403&postdays=0&postorder=asc&start=0 )

OOC: If you don't mind Walmington...I think I'd like to take the Yanks over in this thread...At least the Michiganians...

Interference accepted, or is this period related only? It wouldn't be to fair to put a Raven up against your entrie airforce, I wouldn't want to leave it tottaly hapless...

EDIT* At least let me RP the Texans fighting back...

ooc: I wouldn't mind some input. Either from characters in the field, operating and experiencing on a local scale, or possibly from whatever higher-ups haven't already been killed (by bombs, fighting, or SOW assassination- since having a hand in taking out at least three heads-of-state already, Special Operations Wing has become quite adept at such dastardly things).
Of course, WoS's USA never really abandoned its isolationist leanings, has next to no access to many markets protected, policed, or influenced by WoS and by proxy her weary British allies. They never received much technical help from the British, important to their aviation, naval, and nuclear industries, and radar no doubt, never received Nazi secrets or scientists(/war criminals), and so don't even have the likes of the P51 Mustang and, as referenced, abandoned the Corsair as a naval fighter (because it was the British that made it carrier-worthy). If they have a jet programme it's a laughing stock next to things seen over Europe.
I am not sure where they'd be with tanks.. I mean, certainly the likes of the Pershing wouldn't have evolved, but I hesitate to go so far as to say that they never went past the days of hiding the M2 from Congress, probably convinced at least by WWII's close and the relocation of Cavalry Cruisers to Ontario.

Still, being me, I'm rambling. The core of it is that the US is at least perceived to be a bit of a shambles, and is no doubt absolutely reeling at this stage, after nuclear strikes all over the shop. Of course WoS, like America in RL '45, hasn't entirely understood the nature of the weapons its using, and is about to drop commandos into still-glowing Flint.

I haven't been to specific about a lot of our attacks- I don't know that much about US military deployment in the real 40s/50s, let alone in a universe where they may not even have abandoned the real cavalry, and probably still carry Springfield rifles. If you do choose to take over a person, a unit, a general, or any number of those, you can suppose some sort of attack has been carried out pretty much anywhere significant that WoS can reach. (For the record, our principle bomber is the Distance Bomber MkI Stockley Oak, top speed 274mph, range 2,100miles with 8,500lb bombload, max payload 12,500lb, ceiling 27,800ft, defensive armament 6x.55" machineguns- 2 nose, 2 top turret, 2 tail. Sadly for the Americans, we have heavy fighters (Musca) with 1,780 mile range and 480mph top speed, we have two single-engine fighters and two jet fighters with 1,000+mile range, too)

OOC: Yeah, good RPers can certainly chip in as Americans. I would like to keep ..military involvement limited to the period (in this strange alternate reality), though of course diplomatic interaction and such is still fine.

Other nation states are already becoming involved- you may have noticed that Iansislian warships recently engaged Americans in the Pacific, and that WoS diplomats are off to other 'retro-tech' nations. America's got it coming from all sides ;)

(Don't get offended if I nuked your home! I'd be appauled in reality. I think I just blew up the only girl I ever loved. Attacking the US is..touchy in NS, since so many people are there from. Of course France has been attacked plenty of times, and I have friends.. alright, a friend there! Heh. I'm done.)

OOC: I'll likley just play it just fine. However, what in the hell have you bombed or not bombed? Your previous posts never referenced hitting Flint with a nuke!

In reality by the end of the month your not going to have one nation but a plethera to deal with...most noticably the rise of the New Confederacy.

Oh, if that's the case then it takes at least one month for you to produce a single radar. Considering it was us poor Yanks who figured out how to make the Radon sorces cheaply and quickly....

OOC: Like I say, not been too specific with the attacks. I mean, when I started out, no one was actually going to play America, so I just let it be generally known that we were bombing the crap out of them, and was going to throw in a few posts from time to time on efforts to hush-up reports of terribly side effects, surprising trouble with citizen militias, and maybe the latest attempt to sink some fleeing battleship on one great ocean or another (how many times was Bismarck sunk by British propaganda before we actually got her?).
And yes, there are things lost by not co-operating with the yanks- just think of all the would-be-parents-of-decent-garage-bands I just wiped out! It is well that Walmingtonian per capita GDP is significantly higher than America's, I suppose, or our smaller armies wouldn't be so much better supported (colonial conscripts excepted).

Edit:Uh, yeah, so that is to say, most of the major centres of industry, military bases, political and financial institutions of the northeast have been carpet bombed, nuked, or struck by fighter bombers, the Panama has been ceased, Oahu has been attacked but not so badly as by the Japanese in reality, and WoS troops are pouring into New York and Michigan, while naval assets attack throughout the Caribbean and east coast.. that does leave a fair bit of America untouched, but for the first days of conflict, I'd say it's a pretty good shot to the jaw.

OOC Can you give me a hint on what you have and haven't hit, like, Texas wise...I have an idea for how I can help.

OOC: Walminton, what manner of craft is this "Acorn"? Once I know that, I'll get you a post right sharp.

OOC: Like I say, not been too specific with the attacks. I mean, when I started out, no one was actually going to play America, so I just let it be generally known that we were bombing the crap out of them, and was going to throw in a few posts from time to time on efforts to hush-up reports of terribly side effects, surprising trouble with citizen militias, and maybe the latest attempt to sink some fleeing battleship on one great ocean or another (how many times was Bismarck sunk by British propaganda before we actually got her?).
And yes, there are things lost by not co-operating with the yanks- just think of all the would-be-parents-of-decent-garage-bands I just wiped out! It is well that Walmingtonian per capita GDP is significantly higher than America's, I suppose, or our smaller armies wouldn't be so much better supported (colonial conscripts excepted).

OOC: Well, I'm going to assume that your high command hit Detroit, Washington, and New York. Since that's what you've Rped. You haven't hit Bay City, Oscoda, Midland, or Ypsilanti in bombing raids yet. Let alone Lansing, Jackson, Chicago, Kalamazoo.

ooc:The Acorn is a small twin-engine (piston engine) utility transport that can operate off pretty poor surfaces. We supposed a jet would scare the locals and probably struggle to find anywhere to land..

OOC: Crap...I dunno how to do combat pre-Vietnam...Ya sure I just cant...send a few Ravens in? Just a platoon or two from the ICMC? Eh, its ok, I'll wait till you catch up with everyone else, then let ya have it!

OOC: Crap...I dunno how to do combat pre-Vietnam...Ya sure I just cant...send a few Ravens in? Just a platoon or two from the ICMC? Eh, its ok, I'll wait till you catch up with everyone else, then let ya have it!

ooc: Heh, I'll erm.. look forward to it? [worries] What I need now is for our allies to out-atrocity WoS and take the flak for it. Okay, people, I need you to top nuclear attack on NYC.. (I wonder how many people would live there, given different migration patterns brought on by the WoS Empire and the survival of Nazi Europe)

Okay, people, I need you to top nuclear attack on NYC.. (I wonder how many people would live there, given different migration patterns brought on by the WoS Empire and the survival of Nazi Europe)

*Quickly points all plasma weapons at WoS, Iansisle, Larkinia, Celeborne, Agrigento, A&H...and everyone else who has in some way shape or form had a nasty thought about Imitora...*

OOC: Heh, the fact that it's a fixed-wing craft will probably scare them enough as it is. Anyhows, here's a post.

McGuire Aerodrome, outside Davidsburg, Bayreuth Consulate, Ferrana

"Sir, they're coming in! Inbound from the South!"

Fredrico Mitchell reluctantly put down his tea - thick, sweet, and above all hot - and abandoned the warmth of the Flight Scheduling Office for the chill of the Aerodrome.

Two airships of the Truman Air Line corporation, Mountain Star and Mountain Wind, were at the mooring masts today, but Mitchell was headed for the gyrorotor landing fields, where the Walmingtonian craft was scheduled to arrive.

They were over at the far side of the Aerodrome, less prominent than the mooring masts of the great Ferranan airships, and it was a long walk through the blustery South wind to reach them. But the Walmingtonians had been scheduled to land there, to the suprise of Mitchell and the other diplomats involved; after all, surely a rotor with enough fuel to reach Ferrana from Iansisle would be too heavy to lift?

When he finally reached the strip, the boxy shape of a motor-carriage was waiting by the hangars, and Mitchell felt annoyed. He could have spent the trip in relative comfort, instead of having to trudge across the entire Aerodrome!

But the odd shape of the Walmintonian rotor was already growing from a speck on the southern sky to a muted roar of machinery.

As a young man, Fredrico had been fascinated by the (then) new technology of gyrorotors and airships, and that long-ago knowledge told him that the foreign rotor couldn't possibly stay in the air. Granted, it had not one but two propulsion rotors, but there was no lifting rotor that he could see. Unless those strange winglike protruberances could flap, like an albatross or dragon?

However it worked, it certainly seemed to be doing a good impression of flight, as it came in to land on the tarmac. But it took a long time to stop - dear God, it had nearly run off the end of the strip, the signalman was running hastily aside!

Finally it was still, and Fredrico breathed a sigh of relief at disaster averted, hurrying forward to greet the Walmingtonian diplomats.

"Good afternoon!" he said, with as much cheer as he could manage on such a dismal afternoon. "Fredrico Mitchell, Imperial Knight of the Golden Keys. I've a motor-carriage waiting."

OOC: Well, I'm going to assume that your high command hit Detroit, Washington, and New York. Since that's what you've Rped. You haven't hit Bay City, Oscoda, Midland, or Ypsilanti in bombing raids yet. Let alone Lansing, Jackson, Chicago, Kalamazoo.

((Well, I sunk Chicago...does that count? :P

As for Iansislean involvement, I haven't quite decided what's going on; as with all of our doings, we're probably going about it scatter-shot and with a fair deal of confusion.

One thing I haven't really RPed so far (but have been kicking around the back of my head) is steadily more friendly relations between the Empire of Japan and the Iansislean Commonwealth, ever since Japan won Iansislean approval for the conquest of China and continious oil imports from the rick Dianatran fields in exchange for trade and diplomatic concessions. They'll be a friendly neutral, probably.

I imagine the first thing Iansisle'd do would be to hit Manila with everything they can muster and start landing troops...I've still got to get all this sorted out in my head, and the reaction from Iansisle'd probably be delayed by a day or two after the initial shock.

This was really just a long-winded tag ;)))

((Just a word of warning to anyone starting this: it's rather long and only very loosely tied to WoS' Empire Day celebrations. I honestly didn't mean for it to be this long when I started typing, I swear! It just sort of..happened ;).

Oh, and it's only been 'sort of' proofread (by that, I mean I scrolled down across the text very quickly before hitting 'submit') so please excuse any grammatical errors. Technical errors, on the other hand, please do not excuse! The only way I can learn is if someone calls me on my bone-headedness!

PS: I moved this over from the other thread since it seems better suited here.))

"Still no word on the condition of Monday turret?" asked Commander Ronald Garland, captain of His Iansislean Majesty's brand-new Elemental-class light cruiser Jason. His new command was steaming north-north-east at an easy twenty knots, in the company - obviously, their Lordships had nothing better to do with their time than think up such pairings - of the destroyer Argonaut.

Garland's only previous cruiser assignment had been third lieutenant on the ancient, lumbering, coal-fed monstrosity of a cruiser Ajax. Compared to her, Jason tasted as sweet as ambrosia. The Elementals were the crux of Iansislean wartime ship design: they had lost the next to useless seaflyer catapults, gained nearly ten knots of speed, as well as mounting both the extremely rapid-firing 6"/50 Mk. VI guns (a VAST improvement over the 6"/50 Mk. IV on Ajax) on fresh-from the designer much faster tracking triple mounts and the also brand new HA/LA 4.9"/52 Mk. I.

Jason was just five weeks out of her acceptance trials, but the squeaky new-ship smell was canceled out by lingering problems with her machinery. Currently, the hydraulics in Monday turret - Iansislean crews had started gradually switching to Walmingtonian nomenclature during the war - were acting up, freezing the forward turret straight ahead. As Jason was on her way to participate in wargames with elements of the South China Sea fleet, Garland wanted to make sure his command was, well, ship-shape.

"I'm afraid not, skip," replied the gunnery officer and first lieutenant, one Lieutenant Commander Calvin Kilgore. "I've had Henderson looking at it for the past few hours, but he hasn't figured out what's wrong with the ruddy thing yet."

"Very well," said Garland, fighting every impulse he had to sigh with dissatisfaction. Jason would be arriving in the operation zone inside of four days, where she was to serve as part of Aggressor Squadron, and she HAD to arrive ready.

As a matter of fact, Jason was Garland's very first major command. He thought his career was doomed when they'd put him into Iansisle's torpedo boat squadrons rather than with the fleet proper. After the war, however, the Royal Iansislean Navy's expansion had provided him with nearly unlimited potential for advancement, even if his contacts in Ianapalis were sub-par. Now, here he was, a mere commander in charge of what was (according to the Fifth Sea Lord's papers, at least) a post captain's slot. Garland was keenly aware, however, that there was a nearly unlimited bunch of eager younger officers who would claw tooth and nail to grab his spot if he slipped up - a group which doubtlessly included Mr Kilgore.

His first lieutenant didn't give off the immediate appearance of a dedicated career officer, but Captain Garland had gotten to know his diminutive second-in-command well over the past few months of working up and outfitting a brand new ship. Kilgore made up for a lack of real knowledge about how to run one of the King's men of war with a nearly unbridled power of will. He was cruel to the men who served under him and aloof from the officers he served with; indeed, Garland was the only person he seemed willing to get on all right with. He was also the youngest son of Vice Admiral Sir Joseph Hall, the Fourth Sea Lord, and made no secret of his desire to sit on the Admiralty Board himself someday.

"Conn, radranger," called the NCO manning Jason's radar display. "Now reading three unidentified surface contacts at green fifteen, sir."

"Bearing?" asked Garland.

"Eighty one degrees, sir. They're coming on fast, too - I'd say upwards of twenty eight knots."

"Probably warships, then, not merchies," commented Kilgore. "Any indication they've spotted us, radranger?"

"No, sir. No course changes; at this range, sir, only the Walmies, Brits, or Clerks, and maybe the Hun, could've picked us up at all."

"I'm well aware of that, Clarkson," snapped Kilgore, continuing to act in his role as the captain's mouthpiece. Garland couldn't repress a frown; sometimes, the first lieutenant was just a little too eager to snap at his underlings. After all, Iansislean radranger technology had improved greatly since the start of the war. Even warships were now able to pick up oil-powered surface vessels well before they were actually sighted.

"Estimated time to visual range?" asked Garland, rubbing his chin.

"With current courses, they'll come into sight off the starboard bow about 1500, sir." Clarkson sounded much subdued, even reluctant to give the information. Garland shook his head. He needed men he could trust to tell him the facts without worrying about Kilgore snapping at them.

"Signal from Argonaut, sir," called Midshipman Jacob Fellows, who was acting signal officer. The R.I.N. had been reluctant to restart the practice of sending midshipmen to sea to learn their craft, but the officer crunch resulting from the expansion had forced many old expedients to be reintroduced. "'Contact to Starboard.'"

"Acknowledge, Mr Fellows," replied Garland. Kilgore arched an eyebrow at his captain.

"What do you make of the situation, if I may ask, sir?"

"Whoever they are, they're in a hurry somewhere." Garland shrugged his shoulders. "Iansisle's not at war anymore, so there's really no reason to be worried. And, like Clarkson said, they can't have seen us yet unless they're allied anyway." Kilgore's grunt indicated just what the first lieutenant thought of the Clerks as 'allies,' or perhaps just his distaste for the common-born Clarkson.

----

"There she is, captain, sir!" called a young rating excitably, pointing over Jason's starboard bow. Garland peered through his binoculars in the given direction. For a second, all he could see was water, then Jason rolled onto the top of a swell and he could just make out two distant, grey blobs.

"Good eyes, Vanderham," nodded Garland. The rating beamed brightly at such high praise from his master under God. As Jason and the other ships closed, more and more details could gradually be made out.

"That bigger one's probably a cruiser," said Kilgore, who was looking through his own binoculars. "Three main turrets. Looks pretty front-heavy in the superstructure. She's not ours, anyway. Look at those seaflyer catapults." Garland grunted.

"I think I can see the stars and stripes, sir," cut in Vanderham. "American, I'd wager."

That makes sense, thought Garland. We're right in the least-time passage between Manila and Pearl Harbor. Wonder why they're in such a hurry?

"I've seen something like her before, when I was with Admiral Rice during the war," mumbled Kilgore, mostly to himself. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. "Heavy cruiser, sir. Northampton class. The other two are probably destroyers."

"You sound pretty confident," said Garland, glancing over at the first lieutenant.

"Yes, sir. When I was with Gadsan, the Yanks used to love sending over the Louisville to get in our way. You'd almost think they wanted the Chiangs to win."

"Captain!" That was Lieutenant Danby, the wireless officer and fourth lieutenant. "We've just received instructions from the Admiralty, sir, heavily encrypted! For your eyes only, sir."

"Give them here, Mr Danby," said Garland, holding out his hand. He read over the trim sheet of paper, and his face grew progressively more ashen. At last, he looked up with a deep sigh. "Mr Kilgore, please beat to quarters. I want this ship ready for action within ten minutes. Mr Fellows, please tell the Argonaut to do the same."

"Sir?" There were questions written all over Kilgore's face.

"I am not accustomed to having my orders questioned, Mr Kilgore!" snapped Garland.

"Aye aye, sir!" Kilgore turned on his heel and marched away. A few seconds later, Jason's General Quarters alarm was ringing all over the ship. Garland still stood for a second longer, watching the American ship as it plunged on to the east. The communication he'd received, relayed from the office of the First Sea Lord via Iansislean Mindanao, had been short and to the point. 'HIMS JASON, you are now required to take, sink, burn, or destroy any shipping, military or commercial, sailing under the colors of the United States of America encountered enroute to Port Laughlin. Fail in this task at your peril.' With those simple words, he and his light cruiser, which had a third of her guns out of commission, was committed to a fight to the death against a heavy cruiser three thousand tons heavier.

At last, Garland snapped out of his reverie. "Helm, bring us thirty degrees to port."

"Aye aye, sir," was the response, and Garland heard his orders being relayed into the bowels of Jason's armored hull.

The American cruiser was much closer now. Through the bridge's windows, Garland could see her signaling as Tuesday and Wednesday turrets were trained on her.

"Captain, the message says 'Iansislean vessel: we are the United States Ship Chicago. Please signal your intentions.'" Garland didn't say anything in response, so the eighteen year old Fellows cleared his throat and asked "Orders, sir?"

"Tell Mr Danby to encode a wireless message for Mindanao. 'Have encountered American cruiser Chicago; am engaging. Jason.'" Fellows clearly though this wasn't nearly enough; surely, the captain wanted to explain why he was attacking an American ship in international waters during a time of peace?

Of course he didn't.

"Range to target?" Garland asked instead.

"Fifteen thousand yards, sir," replied Clarkson, watching his radranger keenly. Garland nodded. They were seven thousand yards inside the 6"/50s maximum range, but still two or three thousand outside the maximum effective range, even with the new radio directed range-finder equipment.

"Thank you, Clarkson." Garland looked over at the intraship communication midshipman. "Mr Avon, please give Mr Kilgore my compliments and direct him to open fire on the enemy cruiser at twelve thousand yards."

"Aye aye, sir!" said the young man, perhaps only seventeen years of age, before opening the voice pipe connected to Tuesday turret's command center and relaying the captain's orders.

"Argonaut's requesting orders, sir!" called Midshipman Fellows.

"Tell them to follow us aft and to port," said Garland after a moment's thought. "And tell them to engage enemy destroyers if they close."

"Aye aye, sir," replied Fellows, giving the proper orders to the men in charge of the signal flags. Garland sincerely hoped he was getting them right; the list of battles which turned on a single missed signal by some midshipman somewhere was easily longer than his arm. However, time couldn't be spared to check on Fellows now; the boy had seemed pretty competent in previous instances, and there was no reason to believe he wouldn't be now.

Garland kept his eyes fixated on Chicago. Their turrets had been fixed fore-and-aft; whatever was going on, they hadn't been expecting a battle with Jason. Now, however, the three 8" gun batteries were turning, training themselves on Jason's sleek form. Suddenly, the Iansislean cruiser's 6" guns of Tuesday turret cracked, sending three hundred and eighteen pounds of shells hurtling towards Chicago.

"Mr Parker's compliments, sir, and he wishes to tell you that the aft turret cannot bear on the target!" shouted Midshipman Avon. Lieutenant Parker, sixth lieutenant, was the officer in charge of directing the rear turret in action.

"Inform Mr Parker that we will be turning to bring the broadside to bear at nine thousand yards," said Garland. Suddenly, he saw a flash from all of Chicago's guns; less than a second later the resounding report confirmed that nine eight inch shells were hurtling down at his fragile command. He saw the bursts from Mr Kilgore's first shots blast into the water just a few hundred yards short of the American heavy cruiser; his second salvo was probably close enough to send splinters into the other ship. Not bad shooting, he thought, Maybe I've underestimated Mr Kilgore.

And then Chicago's shots landed, well ahead of Jason but still close enough to make their awesome power known. Garland hoped that no one saw his grimace of fear as the shots plumed water in front of his light cruiser two hundred feet high; a captain leading a ship out-gunned two to one in to the enemy's teeth wasn't supposed to show fear.

Fortunately, Jason's six inch guns could fire seven rounds a minute; right now, Lieutenant Kilgore was holding down his rate of fire so he could evaluate better where his shells were falling. Chicago's guns on the other hand, big American 8"/55s, had been designed way back in 1922 and were only capable of firing about three rounds a minute. However, if one of those 260 lb shells hit Jason at 9,000 yards, it would tear through her 4" armor belt as if it weren't even there, with more than enough momentum left to destroy whatever internal component it hit. If one of Jason's 106 lb shells hit Chicago, it'd be much harder pressed to punch through the same 4 inches of steel.

Granted, their Lordships were always reminding the world how Shieldian steel was second to none and light years ahead of Yankee efforts; Garland hoped to hell that they were right. Otherwise, Jason could keep pounding away at Chicago to no effect until a lucky eight inch shell found its mark, and...

"A hit!" cried Vanderham, pointing at Chicago. "By God, Mr Kilgore's found the range!" There was no doubt about it; a plume of smoke was rising from Chicago's bow, and Jason's crew raised a small cheer before returning to their tasks. The answering fire showed that the shot hadn't put any guns out of action, but the American shells were still falling well ahead and short of Jason.

"Coming up on nine thousand yards, skipper," said Lieutenant Reynolds, the navigation officer and second lieutenant.

"Turn another fifteen degrees to port, Mr Reynolds." Garland didn't wait for the acknowledgment of his orders, but instead turned directly to the communication center. "Kindly give my compliments to Mr Parker and instruct him to open fire as his guns bear, Mr Avon."

"Aye aye sir!" replied the chirpy midshipman. His young face wasn't showing any of the strain and fear Garland could see on the older, more experienced men; maybe Mr Avon just expected to live forever, come hell, high water, or heavy cruisers. A moment later: "Mr Parker thanks you, sir, and would like to know if he should open up with the port secondary battery." Garland paused to consider for a moment; he hadn't really thought of using the 4.9" guns in this fight; at 9,000 yards, they'd not have any penetration value at all. On the other hand, they'd shower any repair or firefighting crews with shards; a barbaric step, but sadly a necessary one.

"Thank Mr Parker, and tell him to have the secondary battery fire at will."

Garland had been watching the battle; Mr Kilgore really was doing an exemplary job. Six of his last seven salvoes had fallen close on Chicago, scoring another five or six hits. Whether or not the hits were doing any good - or bad, depending on the point of view - was anyone's guess.

Chicago's next salvo fell well short of the Jason. Garland was starting to see how Mr Avon could maintain a sense of complete invincibility; no matter how hard they tried, the American gunners couldn't seem to hit the elusive Iansislean cruiser. Meanwhile, one of Kilgore's hits seemed to do some real damage at last; there was a bright explosion forward, just behind the American ship's Tuesday turret, and all six of her forward guns stopped firing. The bridge crew raised another cheer as the American vessel veered off to starboard and her pair of destroyer consorts started making smoke.

They don't even know why they're cheering thought Garland, somewhat bitterly. Christ, not an hour ago, we were at peace with the Americans; now, my crew, despite not even knowing the reasons for the war, rejoices at slaughtering them? What sort of people are we?

Garland knew he couldn't break off the action now, though, no matter all his humanitarian concerns. Even if the cruiser was badly damaged and unlikely to make it back to Manila without air attack, retiring when he had every advantage could only be seen as a sign of weakness. After all, had Captain Halders pressed home his initial advantage against the Graf Spee in the last war, Queen Jessica wouldn't have taken half the mauling she ended up enduring.

"Bring us to starboard, Mr Reynolds," ordered Garland with only a second's hesitation. "Mr Avon, please inform Mr Kilgore of the course change and tell him to continue firing with my compliments."

Jason seemed to surge forward towards the wall of smoke with a renewed energy. The smoke was making it harder for their radrangers to function, but the newer model fire controller was able to burn through most of it at such short range. Kilgore continued to pound his guns at the Chicago, which fired back with its rear 8" guns.

"Skipper!" exclaimed Vanderham, pointing. "The starboard destroyer! It looks like it's trying to make a torpedo run!"

The tiny destroyer off Jason starboard bow did indeed seem to be trying just that. It had radically altered course and was cutting back almost directly at Jason. "Mr Avon! Tell Mr Kilgore to switch fire to the starboard destroyer. Where's the Argonaut!?"

"Behind us to port, as ordered, sir!" called back Fellows. "She'll not be able to intervene!" Garland cursed his orders; if only the Argonaut had been abaft of Jason's starboard quarter, she might have been able to help the cruiser. Now, they'd just have to try and outmaneuver the torpedoes. Kilgore's gun tracked very fast for such a large caliber, but it'd never be able to turn, make calculations, and actually hit the American destroyer before it could loose its deadly fish.

"Tell the helmsman to be ready for sudden maneuvers," said Garland to Reynolds.

"She's fired torpedoes!" exclaimed a rating just as Kilgore's first shots splashed down near the destroyer. "Four - check, five! - fish inbound, bearing green one-three at three thousand yards!"

Garland smiled. That was good news, at least. Kilgore's shots had scared the Americans into firing early. They might have a chance. "Helm, ten degrees to starboard!" He had to be careful; too fast a maneuver, and the torpedoes would strike Jason's stern as she turned; too slow, and they'd strike her on the bow.

As they were turning, Kilgore's battery suddenly struck home. Two of the three shells crashed into the ocean to port and starboard, but the third hit the destroyer right next to her unfired port torpedoes. The fire they started and resulting explosion blew a hole in the chemical smoke screen before replacing it with a darker, more sinister shroud. Of the destroyer, they saw only two broken, burning halves that quickly vanished below the waves.

"Order Argonaut to detach and aid survivors," said Garland to Fellows, feeling as though he'd be sick to his stomach.

Meanwhile, the five torpedoes passed easily between Jason and Argonaut, destined to run fruitlessly until they ran out of fuel and sank. But just as Jason's crew was about to sigh from relief, Chicago struck home for the first time. Garland's evasive maneuver had taken his ship right under Chicago's guns. One of their aft 8"/55s fired directly at the Iansislean cruiser, and its shell flew true and steady to rip right through Jason's superstructure. Fortunately for the crew of the Iansislean ship, the round was a dud, but it still caused massive damage forward and killed two unlucky sailors who'd happened to be right in the path of the shell and its shrapnel.

It was really one of the shell's companions that missed that caused the real damage, however. It burst right off the starboard side of the bridge, and three fragments managed to tear through various windows. Of those, one lodged itself in the floor, another jammed itself into the bridge's compass.

The third sliced right through Mr. Midshipman Richard Avon's chest, as if his rib cage had not even been there. It severed his spine on the way out. The young boy collapsed on the floor; his mouth gaped open and shut again, trying in vain to draw breath into destroyed lungs. Dark arterial blood poured from the wound and ran all over the bridge's deck.

Garland pulled himself back up after the severe concussion. He glanced at Avon, and hoped no one saw the expression of shock and horror on his face. Captains were supposed to be unflappable, even when seventeen year old boys got bloodily cut down by shell fire right next to them. "Get him below," Captain Garland ordered, surprising mostly himself with how steady his voice was. "Reynolds, bring us about ...ten degrees to port. Don't let them hit us again."

Meanwhile, Kilgore had switched his fire back to the Chicago. Garland decided he was going to have to write whoever invented this new radranger fire control and offer his first born child; once again, Kilgore straddled the American ship with only his second salvo. The third and fourth came in directly on target, and Garland could see a dark black smoke pouring out of Chicago's hull.

"She's slowing down, sir," reported someone or the other - Garland didn't have time to notice who - a few seconds after the fifth salvo landed off target to port. "Look at that - we must've gotten her right in the boilers!"

Garland had only a few seconds to ponder the two remaining ships' actions before a huge grin spread across his face. Both Chicago and her remaining destroyer escort turned hard to port, cut their engines, and moved turrets (slowly, in the Chicago's case) to fore and aft. Then they both struck their colors.

----

Garland realized he hadn't had any idea of how badly Jason had mauled the Chicago until his prize crew had reported back on the ship's condition. She'd had both her forward turrets put out of action, her seaflyers destroyed, all but one of her boilers completely trashed, been burning in four different places, and had her rudder and propulsion systems severely damaged by a lucky hit that punched straight through her armor and exploded inside the ship's stern. She was also taking on water faster than her pumps could handle, and already had a slight list to port.

In light of the extensive damage, Garland decided it would be better to sink the Chicago with torpedoes than try and take her back to Port Laughlin. Argonaut dealt the death knell at 1300 hours the day after the battle, having rejoined Jason after being able to rescue just six of the sunk destroyer's compliment despite her best efforts.

The second destroyer, USS Foote, had suffered only a few shell fragments. These had been in rather vital control centers. It took about a day of repairs by parties from Jason and Argonaut, but the destroyer was able to make ready for transport to New Weshield, on Iansislean Borneo's north-eastern coast, where the American prisoners could be unloaded and a proper prize crew provided for the Foote before the Iansislean ships continued to the fleet base at Port Laughlin.

The Foote was actually a very advanced ship, at least compared to the Chicago. She was better than 2,000 tons and really very nicely comparable to an Iansislean Tiger class, except in fire control. But that could be easily fixed; more than likely, the Admiralty would see fit to buy her into Iansislean service. And that meant a hefty amount of prize member for every man on Jason and Argonaut, something which kept the sailors' spirits high as they went about the tedious business of guarding prisoners.

Five men killed and seven injured; that really isn't such a bad trade-off for a heavy cruiser and two destroyers, Garland tried to tell himself the night after the battle. Really, we had no right to come off even that well; if it wasn't for these new fire control radrangers and a bit of good luck, we would have been - should have been - blasted straight out of the water.

But somehow, that neat arrangement of men lost to enemies killed which was so dear to the Admiralty's bean counters wasn't very comforting to Captain Ronald Garland as he sat composing a letter to Mr and Mrs Avon.

OOC note: Well nuking Detroit would take out Ontario's second largest port Windsor...(Lake St. Clair isn't very big you realize)
And when has my government ever had a nasty thought about Imorta?...

IC: The troops around Detroit were enjoying the fact that most of the locals appeared to be sick, and hardly resisting any kind of invasion.

Of course, any Walmington Aircraft flying out to the west would have noticed the bridges over the Huron River appeared to be gone.

Chicago
The ruins of the city burned brightly, the carpet bombing had been effective...in destroying the rendering plants and butcher shops that fed the northwest and Europe with beef and pork. Well the Walmington Gentry were going to be happy with the skyrocket in food prices. Unfortunatly Walmington had been so preoccupied with crushing the crap out of the northwest industrial might they hadn't had enough bombers to go after some potluck airbase on the north shore.

17 B-17 Bombers launched that evening for the western shore of Lake Huron. They were followed by 25 Wildcats

Midland
Shells that should have never even existed were loaded out of a armory on the Dow Chemical plant grounds and onto flat bed cars. They had been ordered north. A man in an Army Uniform with the words Chemical Corps supervised the operation...


The odd fact was for a nation that had been decapitated, things were moving. A good deal was disorginized, but key events were occuring across the devistated nation. They had been attacked, of the surviving five northeastern governors, four had military experience in the Great War and had ordered the national Guard to the feild and empty the armories.

And for all of the armories in places like Chicago, Detroit, Buffallo, Flint that were now rubble. The ones in places like Ypsilatini, Flint, White River, Mobile, Birmingham. They might only be armed with Springfeilds and 1917 Brownings, and old copies of French 75's. They were either wet behind the ears or old salts.

Walmington listening posts could hear various chatter orders, and where to group. Yet they became almost impossible to figure out where some of the places were. The names had long vanished off maps and into the dust bin of history. The Yanks were using ghost town name locations to orginize at, places that were nothing more than memories and broken promises...

And a whole second line of orders was hidden in the mass of transmissions.

OOC: Alright, now before anyone blows a gasket remember that the Army may have been small in the U.S. pre-1941 but the National Guard that had existed since 1898 wasn't. It was just equiped with WWI surplus, remember that a good deal of equipment at the end of the war went into the state milita's because they could buy them at 4% of their value...(Yes 4%)...

IC:
Somewhere in the command structure of the Walmington was the message Roosevelt-L. White House

Ferrana

While their pilot was still cursing under his breath and insisting that they’d never get off the ground again on such a small airstrip, Sir Talfryn’s shrill Welsh-Walmingtonian voice pierced the air in Ferrana for the first time.

“Ah, good afternoon, ah, Sir Fredrico.” He started. “Sir Talfryn Cheeseman, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Waaalmington on Sea, you see. Colonel Pierce, ah, army, isn’ it.”

A weary-looking Pierce gave a quiet salute and almost hobbled forwards. No, he still wished they’d get jet driven diplomatic transports, even if the landing would have killed him.

The Colonel would have struggled to look completely free of wear and tear even if he’d nipped across in a Mach 1.1 Hussar. His drab olive uniform and faded forage cap looked modest next to tidy German POWs in Sicily, the Iansislian naval sorts he’d probably tried to associate with in the Shield, and now likely any formal dress he’d meet in Ferrana. Tiny Sir Talfryn held up the Walmingtonian norm by virtue of his black suit and bowler hat.




(ooc: WoS’s nuclear devices are as yet fairly small, and we were of course well aware that Windsor’s dangerously close to the US- I spent an slightly drunken evening cursing you all, across the water :) Of course that doesn’t mean that we made anything close to flawless calculations, and when this is all over we’ll probably have a job covering up signs of radiation sickness in Canada. I’m half looking forward to claimants trying to track down the culprits, and fully expect Sir Henry’s fortune to be markedly depleted.)

Most Walmingtonians, even in military and government, weren't really too concerned by minor flaws in the plan here and there. They weren't really fighting a war, after all, so enemy tactics and capabilities weren't of so much interest. They'd be pushed out of the way and stay there.

But then, most Walmingtonians in any position of serious authority (or enjoying such an illusion) still thought of war much as a grand and bloody game; somewhere between chess and rugby. Commondant Dunn, head of Special Operations Wing, had chanced to see the Americans play rugby, so he thought. They may have done it all wrong, but they wore helmets into the bargain.
That meant something to the funny, guarded fellow.

Near Kitchener

“We’re not going to be well served by playing rugby with the enemy, boys. And heaven only knows what’ll happen if we play chess.”

“What’s he talking about, Godders?”
“I haven’t a clue, shut up and listen, maybe they’ve decided to settle it with cricket.”
“I hope we can field imperials. I sin the army team play Port Mavis when I were on leave from bush orientation up Chalisbury, and them Capers can really...”

“No, this is a serious operation, and we’ve got to think ice hockey.”

“Oh, bother.”
“I think he’s speaking metaforikally, isn’ it?”
“Well I know that, din I?”

“For God’s sake, Milliner, shut up... and put down that Tripoli, good God man, haven’t you been issued your Catania Pattern?”

“No sir, Jones-B’s not even got ‘is Lupine, and ‘e’s ‘anded in ‘is Camel.”

Walmington may have built the world’s first (and probably loudest) computer (not that many people knew it), and may have secretly cracked enigma, and may be reading just about every domestic or international communiqué this side of the Shield (yes, it..probably stops there [cough]), but their hadn’t been much effort put into writing Walmingtonian codes. No one thought they were much needed, for some reason...

Regardless, it seemed that Dunn’s follow-up punch was already running into supply problems. Most new weapons were already in the field in Panama, isolated naval and airborne operations to the south and Caribbean, Buffalo, and Flint, and the damn Civil Service was pressuring recruits to turn in their old, perfectly servicable weapons for training, imperial forces, or melting-down. Worse yet, many of those soldiers waiting in Ontario. If SOW was going to operate as an elite wing of the army, it needed better administrative co-operation there with, and if it was going to act as the cloak and dagger outfit it was formed to be, it needed less interference from civilian authorities.

While to his credit Dunn quickly recognised this, and coped by enlarge fairly well with the handicap, he wasn’t much inclined to take the bureaucratic steps to alter the problems he saw. The exact opposite was true in other services, as bitter, stuffy old failures only in command because good officers were killed in the last war happily embroiled themselves in politicking and procedure.

At least the experienced and professional air force was doing a good job of damage control- radar coverage was good across the Ontario border area. Relatively common Wychwood Sirens made good use of their 4,300fpm climb-rate, Tern, Super Tern nightfighters, Cricket (Sledgehammer to the Calarcans), and Hussar jets fared even better. Everyone was glad, where American bombers were encountered, that .30 and .303 machineguns had been abandoned for .55” and cannon when faced with German aircraft mounting 13, 20, and 30mm weapons. And gosh, it was fun to loose eighteen or even thirty-six Wychwood AARMkI Grapeshot 2” Air-to-Air rockets into formations, even if half of the rockets would tend to spin off along unpredictable paths, or fail to explode on impact. One worry as some few officers, dismissed as wet blankets, saw it, was the tendency for relatively big wings to be scrambled at the slightest sign of something airborne or on the ground that might need destroying.

“Tosh!” Said Air Commander Walker, a highly respected (with some good reason for once, he was a fighter ace, after all) aviator. “It’s good to let the lads get flying time, good to ease them into action. And besides, there won’t be much left to shoot at, soon enough!”

(Army) Colonel Winters, riding aboard an Observation/Transport MkI Acorn utility aircraft over Michigan in the observation role only hoped that Walker was right about there being aviation fuel enough to last given such generous deployment of jet aircraft. Added to that, the Colonel seemed to be spending as much time looking at the sky around as at the ground he was out to survey. If they do have much left in reserve, what assurance do we have that it won’t hit a sector in which everybody’s off chasing down a scout plane or a damnable little Jeep? He wondered.

Irony of ironies, it was in the middle of one of these mental wanderings that Winters’ plane was hit- by any number of rounds from the eight 20mm cannon shoehorned into a three Graye-Hudson turbojet engined JFMkI Cricket of the RWAF. The largely wood and starched Newrian linen airframe would be rather the worse for wear by the time that it came to a stop. This was probably well considering the amount of army planning documentation left in her charge when, just Southwest of Saginaw, Winters was persuaded out the flame-licked door by the two airforce crewmen.

“Well.. we flew over a couple of Spotter Gun Cars about twelve miles back, didn’t we?” Said Winters, drawing his .40 automatic Custodian after his first parachute jump.

“I’d say closer to twenty, sir.”

(Yeah, that came out piecemeal, didn't it? I just got out of bed, thank you, dawn chorus. I supposed that I could post whatever came out now, or get mad at the unreliability of the forums by the time I've had tea :) )

McGuire Aerodrome, outside Davidsburg, etc...

"Very pleased to meet you," Fredrico replied, shaking the Walmingtonian's hand, still mantaining his polite smile as if the wind had frozen it to his face. "The motor-carriage is this way - shall we get out of this wind?"

He led the way to the carriage, giving a friendly nod to the driver huddled under the canopy. The interior of the Wells-Monserrat "Patrician" was cheerfully warm, undispelled even by the somber presence of an Imperial Lictor in the cabin.

"Good afternoon," the Lictor, O'Neill, said, in a polite tone of voice which gave no hint as to wether he thought it truly was a good afternoon.

Most Imperial Lictors were perfectly friendly, but Fredrico had met Shadow Legionnaires who seemed to cultivate that tone, and he would not be at all suprised if O'Neill suddenly reversed his coat to reveal the black-and-grey of the Shadow Legion.

"We won't actually be going into the city at all today," Fredrico explained to Sir Cheeseman, eager to divert attention from the Imperial agent. "The Imperator is at Bayreuth Hall, so we'll go around on Newcircle Road to get there."

Insula Modesta had never been of use to the Patria. Its only natural harbor was so logged with sand that any ship drawing more than a destroyer would be grounded at low tide, it had no value as farm land, no natural resources; no anything beyond a few square miles of relatively flat rock and dirt.

But Insula Modesta did have one redeeming quality: it was seventy miles off the eastern Effitian coast; as the crow flies, only seven hundred miles south-west of Midway and fifteen hundred miles from Oahu. While Iansislean fighter technology had slacked off since the end of the War, Chiang Maï had taught the Commonwealth a bitter lesson in the proper employment of heavy bombers.

The BAF-5 Daedalus, though it numbered just one hundred and two in military service, was the final result of that lesson. Evolved from the BAF-3 Dasher and BAF-4 Beetle, the Daedalus could carry 18,000 pounds of bombs at a cruising speed of two hundred and thirty five miles per hour for just less than four thousand miles.

Much to the surprised of many observers, the turnabout time from the Walmingtonish inanition of hostilities to the Iansislean response was quite short. Though Prime Minister Tarriff was, ironically, away in Walmington on Sea, a vote taken just a day after the Walmington’s bombing in his absence confirmed Iansisle’s desire to “Support our Atlantic allies in any way possible.” Within an hour of Jameston’s announcement, the Admiralty ordered all units at sea to consider a state of war existent with the United States of America. Seventeen American-flag merchant ships were seized in harbor in ports throughout Iansisle and her Empire within three hours. Four hours after the declaration, a hasty strike of thirty-odd Dasherss and Beetles, supported by the omnipresent MPAF-6 Colt jet fighter (which, now in its ninth major variant, had finally solved the problem of occasional and seemingly-random burnouts in their Graye-Hudson jet engines) flew out of Iansislean Mindanao and dropped half a million tons of high explosive on airfields, fuel dumps, and various other military targets throughout the American Philippines. Due to the haste with which the strike had been prepared, many targets were doubtlessly left untouched, but several follow-up runs, using mainly the real workhorse of the aerofleet, the MPAF-8 Spirit, were planned.

Back at Insula Modesta, the air was torn by the thunder of arriving giants. Modesta’s airfield had been specifically designed to take and launch the Daedalus, but actually seeing flight after flight of the behemoths rumble down out of the sky and land with a thud on one of the vast ribbons of pavement that crisscrossed Modesta was something to tell the children about.

The next afternoon, Modesta’s original complement of bombers, thirty-six Dashers and twenty-two Beetles, took off in the company of thirty MPAF-8 Mk. VI SuperSpirits. At first glance, a SuperSpirit looked rather like the clunky, two engined BAF-1 Blinder of yore; however, its twin Graye-Westerton engines bulled it through the air at upwards of three hundred and eighty miles per hour, its advanced nose-mounted radar gave it a deadly drop on most older fighters, it could climb to over 40,000 feet, and it carried eight 20mm cannons, four under the cockpit and two in each wing. The flyers arced gracefully around to the north-east and rumbled off.

At eleven o’clock in the evening, just after the remainder of Strike Force Midway returned, the twenty-four Daedali launched themselves back into the air. This time, they were accompanied by what had also been their escort from the Shield: twenty-four MPAF-8 Mk. IX FarSpirits. The FarSpirits traded some ceiling, fifty miles per hour, and their entire bombload for more than 4,000 miles of range. Their pilots settled back into the chairs; it was going to be almost seven hours until their dawn raid on Oahu; might as well be comfortable.

“I just wish the Walmies had given us more notice they were about to start something like this,” grumbled Sir Richard Tri, the First Sea Lord, tapping his thumbs together hard enough to cause blisters as he inspected the ‘big map.’ The R.I.N., with an amazingly small number of screw-ups and delays, was effecting one of the largest redeployments in its history. The Bay of Bengal fleet, save the light cruiser Antilochus and the destroyers Tiger, and Bulwark, and Arrogant, was being moved from Nusheld to Fort Manly, where it was to somehow cover both the Bay of Bengal and South China Sea areas; just to make Vice Admiral Samuelson, now the ‘Southern Seas Area Commander,’ even more annoyed, the R.I.N. was stripping his only capital ship, the 46,000 ton Collosus, and giving in to Admiral Rice’s new Mindanao Fleet, which consisted of the old South China Sea Fleet, minus the battleship Gargantuan and battlecruiser King Ian V (both sent back to home waters). Mindanao Fleet was charged with making sure that no American ships in Manila survived, and then covering landings for Third Corps, 15,000 men stationed in Borneo.

Admiral Lord Westergate’s Home Fleet, meanwhile, was forming up at Harbor City. Ten destroyers were being left behind to guard Troobodia Bay against submarine incursion while the old sloops and frigates were taken out of mothballs and re-crewed, and most of his light units were detailed for convoy duty. Still, he had the Behemoth, King Ian V, Gargantuan (once they arrived), the aeroflyer docks Salvador, Augsburg, and Veritas, Rear Admiral Redford’s Third Cruiser Squadron (Gadsan, Laughlin, Redoubtable, Quest, Aquatic, and Duke of Dorchet) and Rear Admiral Jones’ Seventh Destroyer Group (8 Alphas, 6 Tigers, 4 Protectors and 6 Betas). Lord Westergate was to escort the newly forming Four Corps (Field Marshal Lord Atlawat) from Chateau to their landing zone at Midway, and provide both coastal bombardment and close air support for the landings.

Meanwhile, Iansisle’s top man in Walmington on Sea - besides Tarriff, of course (who couldn’t be trusted with any matter of importance) - made a discreet call to the proper authorities. (sorry about the excessive vagueness...I’m sure I’ve sent an ambassador to WoS, but can’t think of his name for my life, and I’m not really sure who I’d be supposed to contact for this inquiry.)

He wondered, perhaps, if Walmington on Sea might be willing to sell their Red Bear engine?

“You see,” he said, “our engineers have this wonderful plan for the next generation of Shieldian fighter-jet, but Hudson Rockets of Copplestone simply hasn’t been able to design us the proper engine to fit in it. From all we’ve heard of the after-burning Red Bear, it’d be perfect.” He concluded with some remarks about the “eternal bond of friendship between His Iansislean and His Walmingtonian Majesties” and that “I’m sure our two great states will maintain the closest of relationships and partnerships for all time.”

He didn’t *quite* reference the Graye-Hudson turbojets sold in the opening days of the war, but hoped that the implication would be clear enough.

(wow...that was a much more scatter-shot post than I first intended...oh well)

OOC:Ah Oahu is fairly much a burning pile of rubble at this moment. Infact it isn't going to remain part of the U.S. much longer....

... Oahu has been attacked but not so badly as by the Japanese in reality...

(I'm sure we can find something left to bomb ;))

OOC: I missed that...sorry...

OOC:Ah Oahu is fairly much a burning pile of rubble at this moment. Infact it isn't going to remain part of the U.S. much longer....

You're darn right it's not. *Covets in a paranoid fashion* Mine! All mine!

Sorry, it is likely going to become an independent nation.

(not if Fourth Corps has anything to say about it :P...unless, perhaps, the newly independent Hawaiian state would care to be a Shieldian protectorate?..no, I didn't think so.)

Sorry, it is likely going to become an independent nation.

We shall see. I plan to take Hawai'i, even if I have to sow the fields with the salt of tears and water them with the salt of blood.

Anyway, we should get back to the regularly scheduled RP.

OOC: Knowing the Royal Family of Hawaii, the answer might be a more resounding yes than anything...just as long as they get to re-establish the constitution of 1864...

edit: corrected date

ooc: Heehee, such chaos in the Pacific, so many vultures. It's well that WoS isn't a run of the mill Nation State out to conquer as much territory as possible. Anyway, yes, we attacked O'ahu with just two carriers (Sparrow and Carthage) of the Gallagan Ocean Fleet.

Captain Bingham's report to Vollombo, which may have been picked up by the Ians and just about anyone else in the area, claimed that, "Many aircraft had been destroyed on the ground, but a significant number were thought to have survived. Several capital ships were at least crippled, a torpedo had hit one carrier and rockets, guns, and bombs damaged others, but most of them would probably not be long out of action."

I suppose that our flotilla, considering how quickly Iansisle joined the war, might favour a stop-off at one of their ports- Royal Oak's with the carriers if there's call for ex-Toto/Ian's 12" guns (still can't remember which we make Royal Oak and which Iansisle). Failing that, Maybe Ferrana will take the ships in. They're in no hurry to run back across the Bay of Bengal and out of the war. Two carriers, two battlecruisers, one battleship, three heavy cruisers, one light cruiser, four destroyers, three corvettes, and four submarines previously listed as part of the fleet, I've not completed working out the post-war expansion yet, but then most of the corvettes at least will remain at Ceyloba for convoy escort. We can as such heavily support allied operations, but don't fancy taking on the US Pacific fleet or major US holdings on our own.

Must get to Ferrana's and Iansisle's IC posts, but I'll be back later for that.

I suppose that our flotilla, considering how quickly Iansisle joined the war, might favour a stop-off at one of their ports- Royal Oak's with the carriers if there's call for ex-Toto/Ian's 12" guns (still can't remember which we make Royal Oak and which Iansisle). Failing that, Maybe Ferrana will take the ships in. They're in no hurry to run back across the Bay of Bengal and out of the war. Two carriers, two battlecruisers, one battleship, three heavy cruisers, one light cruiser, four destroyers, three corvettes, and four submarines previously listed as part of the fleet, I've not completed working out the post-war expansion yet, but then most of the corvettes at least will remain at Ceyloba for convoy escort. We can as such heavily support allied operations, but don't fancy taking on the US Pacific fleet or major US holdings on our own.


((I'm pretty sure King Ian became Iansisle and King Toto IV became Royal Oak...not positive, but that seems familiar, anyhow.

Anyhow, Walmingtonish ships are always welcome in Iansislean and Imperial ports! We're pretty desperate to keep WoS more in our good graces than Calarca's, and (Tarriff excepted) are willing to bend over backwards for them most of the time.))

The flat lands of the Saginaw River valley seemed to streach out before the Colonel Winters. Hedged in by windbreaks and woodlots.

Corn on one side of a dirt road and some sort of potato plants on the other. A white farmhouse and barn stood in the distance in a clump of trees. To the west was a line of trees and thick underbrush. The nose of some black sedan could just made out poking out back into the road. On the other side of the corn feild stood the high tree line of a woodlot.

There was a flash of light from the large, red barn and a crack...dirt spattered upwards into dust as a 0.38 shell slammed into the road nearby.

Flint
The Airdropped troops had little problems in the city. At least initally. The Airport had been almost completely distroyed by the same bombing runs that had taken out a GM Assembly plant. And north of the Flint river was a wasteland of burning frame houses and dead bodes from the attack on the Buick plant. The resistance started later, men being shot down by apparent snipers. Small groups of paratroopers being ambused if they tried to go northwest into the Thumb.

Of couse someone would have noticed the awards plaques infront of the Genesse County Court House. For some odd reason there was four divisions listed under "Marines" with some casualty lists being fairly long. Most with the words Belle Woods.

Oscoda
If Oscoda wasn't a ghost town, it's sister Ausauble was. Of once had once been a major area during the lumber boom. Now the regrowth of ceder and birch covered over the remains of Ausauble. The only reason Oscoda still existed was the massive concrete runway built durring the depression. In another time and place B-52's would sit on that runway waiting to launch and deleiver nuclear payloads on the other side of the iron curtain.

Now, here...B-17s and Wildcats sat being loaded with fuel. The odd shaped bombs being loaded into the aicraft by crews.

Ypsilanti
Walmington forces had attempted to cross the Huron River along U.S. 12 and capture the University of Michigan after seizing the Willow Run Aircraft plant. The only problem had been the sudden disappearence of the bridge and a hail of gun fire and mortar rounds from summit hill on the other side of the river.

The Huron wasn't deep or fast here, but had cut itself a wide channel deep into the soil. To cross ment to attempt to go down into a valley and then back out while being pinned down from machine gun nest sprinkeled in among the trees and concrete retaining walls of the downtown buildings.

And the enemy held the tallest structure in the city, a massive stone water tower that dominated the landscape for miles around. In a nearby park, and the Normal School campus old rifled guns fired round after round into depot town and the eastern section of the city.

Under the trees of Sylavant Hall a group of young men listened in awe to a 43 year old man sitting astride a motor bike. The right hand was missing a few fingers, and the uniform had only the stripes of a corporal. But two purple hearts and a Bronze Star with clusters seemed to counter act that point. "Now our job will be to cut their communications. This is going to be a tough, dangerous assignment. So keep your eyes peeled and tommy guns at the ready...."

Most of the motor bikes appeared to have rider's carts attached. The men, some old some boys...One the twenty year younger brother in law of the Marine, were a bit miffed at what had happened. The U.S. never really wanted a war with anybody. Now they had these blasted Walleye's invading them for no apparent good reason. It was a mixture of confusion and anger...One that would likely lead to hate for several generations. A few minutes later the group started to move north, spead out along the tree lined roads heading for an ancient covered bridge...

The grounds of Eastern Michigan were littered with crude attempts at having mulitple Lewis guns lashed up into anti-aircraft postions.

The flat lands of the Saginaw River valley seemed to streach out before the Colonel Winters. Hedged in by windbreaks and woodlots.

Corn on one side of a dirt road and some sort of potato plants on the other. A white farmhouse and barn stood in the distance in a clump of trees. To the west was a line of trees and thick underbrush. The nose of some black sedan could just made out poking out back into the road. On the other side of the corn feild stood the high tree line of a woodlot.

There was a flash of light from the large, red barn and a crack...dirt spattered upwards into dust as a 0.38 shell slammed into the road nearby.

Flint
The Airdropped troops had little problems in the city. At least initally. The Airport had been almost completely distroyed by the same bombing runs that had taken out a GM Assembly plant. And north of the Flint river was a wasteland of burning frame houses and dead bodes from the attack on the Buick plant. The resistance started later, men being shot down by apparent snipers. Small groups of paratroopers being ambused if they tried to go northwest into the Thumb.

Of couse someone would have noticed the awards plaques infront of the Genesse County Court House. For some odd reason there was four divisions listed under "Marines" with some casualty lists being fairly long. Most with the words Belle Woods.

Oscoda
If Oscoda wasn't a ghost town, it's sister Ausauble was. Of once had once been a major area during the lumber boom. Now the regrowth of ceder and birch covered over the remains of Ausauble. The only reason Oscoda still existed was the massive concrete runway built durring the depression. In another time and place B-52's would sit on that runway waiting to launch and deleiver nuclear payloads on the other side of the iron curtain.

Now, here...B-17s and Wildcats sat being loaded with fuel. The odd shaped bombs being loaded into the aicraft by crews.

Ypsilanti
Walmington forces had attempted to cross the Huron River along U.S. 12 and capture the University of Michigan after seizing the Willow Run Aircraft plant. The only problem had been the sudden disappearence of the bridge and a hail of gun fire and mortar rounds from summit hill on the other side of the river.

The Huron wasn't deep or fast here, but had cut itself a wide channel deep into the soil. To cross ment to attempt to go down into a valley and then back out while being pinned down from machine gun nest sprinkeled in among the trees and concrete retaining walls of the downtown buildings.

And the enemy held the tallest structure in the city, a massive stone water tower that dominated the landscape for miles around. In a nearby park, and the Normal School campus old rifled guns fired round after round into depot town and the eastern section of the city.

Under the trees of Sylavant Hall a group of young men listened in awe to a 43 year old man sitting astride a motor bike. The right hand was missing a few fingers, and the uniform had only the stripes of a corporal. But two purple hearts and a Bronze Star with clusters seemed to counter act that point. "Now our job will be to cut their communications. This is going to be a tough, dangerous assignment. So keep your eyes peeled and tommy guns at the ready...."

Most of the motor bikes appeared to have rider's carts attached. The men, some old some boys...One the twenty year younger brother in law of the Marine, were a bit miffed at what had happened. The U.S. never really wanted a war with anybody. Now they had these blasted Walleye's invading them for no apparent good reason. It was a mixture of confusion and anger...One that would likely lead to hate for several generations. A few minutes later the group started to move north, spead out along the tree lined roads heading for an ancient covered bridge...

The grounds of Eastern Michigan were littered with crude attempts at having mulitple Lewis guns lashed up into anti-aircraft postions.

OOC:

Damn... I missed all the fun :P hmm... is Oahu part of Hawaii? if so... hmm Walmington... do you remember some of my TGs and Posts about the posibility of Calarcian troops supposedly enroute to canada for final training before moving south to secure south america and What I said about possibly taking Hawaii by diverting them to Hololulu?

It's been so long I've forgotten a lot of what I was doing...

/OOC

(Hey, Calarca! Glad to see you back!

I'd just like to say, first off, that any plans you made WoS before you had to leave us (:() still stand; in my eyes, if any of them contradict IC statements of mine, please ignore my actions.

That said, Oahu is an island north west of "the big island" (Hawaii); if memory serves, it's about 2/3rds of the way across the main part of the chain (I don't have a map handy, so forgive me if I just pulled that out of my ass ;)). Honolulu and Pearl Harbor are both on Oahu.

Once again, welcome back!

OOC: Ohau is an island in the Hawai'ian island chain. The second-biggest, I think. And it's mine, all mine! Muahahahahaha!
*Glares at all these people who seem to think Hawai'i isn't the rightful, God-given territory of the Imperium Ferranum*

... and Iansisle beat me to it. Grr. Argh.

OOC: Sorry about the lack of IC development in this thread so far- personally I'm in no rush. I don't have anything planned until killing myself and/or possibly buggering off to Australia next year. I might have a shower to-day, too, who knows?

Welcome back, Cal! Good ol' Pacific. Three of you, all at least nominally or nearly WoS allies, all competing to carve up the best bits of WoS's primary enemy. Funny old world, this, one'd almost think Sir Henry was running the whole show.. (there aren't nearly enough conspiracy theories in NS). Can't wait to see what happens when I get New Eastgate into trouble with Abargrapt- I think they're about to get Fascist on the Pacific.

Anyway, yes, WoS is still hoping that Calarca will join the war on America, possibly even going through with that invasion of California thing. You may have noticed that WoS threw a significant part of its strength into taking Panama on the first day of war (I mean, I'm sure we've not made all the interior safe, but then we really couldn't care less about that). It's pretty heavily defended on each coast by now, if anyone requires a staging area :)

We're not in this to conquer America. The public, by enlarge, wants to see those damn rebels pay respect to one Anglo Saxon monarch or other, and Sir Henry wants to take out a growing competator to his financial empire. Iansisle, Calarca, and Ferrana won't find WoS trying to begrudge them American soil (though I suspect we'll be after a Pacific coast port in the States, at some point).

Ah ha! I do still have at least one related TG from Calarca (183 days ago)

So yes I could invade America if haiwaian naval forces weren't in the way, I've 4 subs and 2 carriers, the carriers should soon be being launched, a Fast Heavy Cruiser (Admiral Coney class) and a standard Heavy Cruiser class each given a flat deck and the rest of the carrier fitments.

Given the Wasp II is a modified fighter, it's considerably faster and more agile than the Swordfish or the Japanese torp bombers, two carriers of wasps and the third of fighters covers and it's Pearl Harbour again. And the Invasion forces can slip past and cut the naval supplies to pearl harbour at the source. America.

WoS will have Calarcas support in an invasion of AMerica if Iansisle can hold back the Asian Hordes. And if the Detroit/Chicago area is taken over from the north, the rest of the US would be paralysed due to the lack of manufactoring capacity.

Obviously that was at the height of WWII, so things have changed somewhat...

Well, a quick run-down of events thus far-

WoS South Seas Fleet attacks Panama, with some elements having progressed around Cape Horn and others joining Home Fleet assets headed through the Caribbean and Gulf to attack American assets there. SOW Commandos lead assaults by air, ground, and sea, securing the coasts and the canal.

WoS Gallagan Ocean Fleet attacks O'ahu with two carriers, destroying a lot of aircraft on the ground and damaging several major ships, including at least one carrier. Over all, the attack is not as destructive as the larger Japanese attack was in reality. We could, so far as I'm concerned, suppose that Calarcan assets followed up this attack more quickly than can now happen- after all, the nation never vanished, and we've evidence of plans half a RL year old..

WoS diplomats sent to Ferrana to discuss that nation's involvement in the conflict. Ferrana probably faces an up-hill struggle to be considered a major partner next to more advanced nations such as WoS, Iansisle, and Calarca. (No offence. I think it should be interesting to see how you struggle to avoid being screwed over, and what happens if everyone else ends up drained by fighting the Yanks)

WoS Bomber Command attacks American cities and bases in the north and east, dropping (several, relatively low yield, and largely misunderstood) nuclear weapons in Washington DC, Michigan and New York, and employing carpet bombing and straffing runs with bombs, rockets, and cannon.

WoS forces from Army Group Canada cross the border, advancing against Buffalo and Detroit; paras drop in and around Flint; American resistance attempts to rally against invaders.

Anyway, I'm er, not making much progress here.

A note that WoS hasn’t forgotten about its latest expedition. However, I think a reassessment in RP terms. I’ve rather rambled myself into a corner again, because, gosh darn it, I’m not very good at saying no. This, largely speaking, was really meant to be a background thing that’d run on behind Walmingtonian threads in the near future... something to move the nation on, magic up a new character or two, and maybe get some killed-off. Certainly a way to drag us towards a more modern age, anyway. I never really wanted to RP the capture of each individual US city or whatever else, there’s too darn much of it. I just did the North African war (well, half of it) and am probably going to get into quite a detail-heavy tussle with Abargrapt (uhm, as New Eastgate, that is, not WoS). So I’d be liable to bore myself to death and take a few others with me if I did the same with this.

As things stand -that is, barring the reasonable intervention of another relevant era nation state (DK’s return, for example)- WoS is eventually going to ..uhm.. completely steamroll the US military across the north east and most of the coast. The Americans alone can’t avoid military defeat there. If you were to check the appropriate records, you’d see evidence of Walmingtonian buffuglement at British restrain with the rebels first time round- WoS isn’t so likely to be impressed by KLA-style tactics once the regular military breaks down. We’ll just kick the stuffing out of them- civilians aren’t British subjects anymore, which is a shame for them, with Sir Henry holding so much sway over military affairs.
While WoS, being WoS, will try to pull civilians out, try to convince them that they’d prefer to be part of a proper Anglo-Saxon empire again anyway, there’ll clearly be no hesitation to take a severe hand with the black sheep of the family.

This isn’t to say that there won’t be a lot of fighting to be done, and a lot of damage to be suffered, but that’s not the RP I’m really after. It’ll impact upon the Walmingtonian domestic scene over time. It’s not to say that the fight in the Pacific can’t be better detailed- that’s where most of the international political manouevering will go on.
It’s not meant to imply that the Americans can’t operate a country with a large part of it shot to bits, it’s just that... California..Sun reports Fort Jackson besieged, carpet-bombed; America already knows, Britain has too much to lose by getting directly involved without WoS say-so, continental Europe is Nazi-controlled and their propaganda already says we do worse, the Soviet Union is still under Uncle Joe (for a couple of years yet, anyway) who...does worse, and is too busy worrying about that Nazi-controlled continent, Japan is..still run by the people who oversaw such things as the rape of Nanking.. and well, you get the idea. Maybe they could get Mexico to care, but then maybe Sir Henry’s already selling tracts of Texas.

Ahem.. in short, uhm, sorry, I’ve slept a bit now, so don’t look out for the detailed story of how VIII Corps get from city A to city E. Just watch threads in which WoS characters get a chance to prattle on about, “the Op.” or some such. (Plus the Atlantic’s a boring playground since DK and Erco ceased to be a part of it :) )


Now, it should be noted that i was drunk when I wrote this, and that I'm foru or five pints drunker, now, so I haven't bothered to revise..or even read it, and I can't remember what it says, so.. blame that guy (yeah, the 80s guy who briefly ran Planet Expresss. You all watch Futurama, right?

Well which is why I sort of 'intervened' in this is my feeling you've gotten the U.S. completly off by about twenty degrees. And it likely extnds from the apparent misunderstanding of both the social-ecconomic nature of the United States at the time period and how it would respond to an invasion. Since you (WoS) and Calarca worked this 'out', which makes me worry about your sorces. Although I respect your abilities as Rpers, neither one of you is an American or a Canadian. And a 1920's Briish War plan is not exactly a strong suit. And I don't doubt your research, I doubt the researchers who have tended to be overly skewed to the 'cult' of Roosevelt...and dismissive of other social trends outside of the Hudson River valley.

Two major structural problems: First, the distributed nature of american industry in the 1930's and all the way into the 1960's would make a nightmare in terms of trying to 'stop' the creation of arms to prosacute the war. I mean really, you can drive through tons of small towns with a few heavy industrial factories scattered about. Most now are just rusting hulks but they were operating during the Second World War. The other problem is just distances and logistics for an invading army. At this time there were only a few marked 'highways' across the United States. The decade previous people had to use detailed intstruction books to get from one major metropolatin area to another when not by rail.

Second, the population was a fairly large pool of untrained but technically compentant and decently educated men and women. In reality these people had ample acess to such materials as small arms, dynamite, gun powder and wire. I should also note that the United States army lacked funding...not weapon designs. The most notable being artillery...there had been a few but not many. Or the center of the country is filled with people who you don't exactly want to training to fight you...

I'm also going to present another problem. After the second world war most of Europe needed both grain and beef shipments from the U.S. Remember that in 1898 the Spanish had said that American's were small, tiny men because they sold all their beef to Europe. Or, an extended war is going to drive up food prices in Europe. And those increasing food prices will make socialism look even more promising to some people. Especially in Britian.

Now then, I'm not against this being a Walmington background item or even Walmington 'winning' the war and forcing the United States back into the fold. (How about the United Duchies anyone?) I guess part of my whole buisness in this is my own reading of your posts has come across a bit to 'easy' as though Walmington's were going to roll across the land and then people would come back to the 'faith' in droves. No, America was far less pro-monarcist until the second world war and the crowining of Elizabeth the second. More than likely the populace would be even more anagostic than the Irish were to the British.

That may be the best analogy. Walmington just inherited a 'Ireland' full of people with guns. Some with military training, and vast expanses of uninhabited space for them to operate from. It's Ireland, but with a 'jungle' thrown in for good measure. And with a population of fourty million...that would assume say 1.2 million men at arms? So if you put your entire military (note: everyone from generals to the guys doing the laundry) then you would have about 1.2 men per square mile to control twenty percent of the territory of the United States, with a local population exstreamly hostile to you.

ooc: Heh, I think you may fear too much from the initial successes. A fairly introspective state that just sat out a world-wide conflict has just been hit by a surprise attack on multiple fronts by several proportionally richer nations with fairly long-term military build-ups behind them. The US has taken a massive hit (several, really) and stands to take several more. This doesn't mean there won't be a fight back. Probably several fight-backs by each side over time. The US is a big place, even the east coast -all that Walmington intends to take- is a fairly big place, too. But then so was Europe, and the Germans rolled right over that with less technical superiority than has WoS.
We may not stop arms production, but we'll put a big dent in the US's capacity to catch-up the huge technical gulf that's opened, and there-after, well, we're not lead by dive-bomber-happy Hitler and there'll be no unreachable Tankograd-USA.

I think you slightly underestimate our recruitment potential, too. By now we're slightly larger than was the UK during WWII, and after a couple of years build-up, the UK had multiple millions in terms of servicemen. It's not sustainable in the long-term, no, but that's part of this background and development thing I speak of. As it happens, you did roughly estimate the current strength of the Walmingtonian army, but that's in the opening stages when most people who aren't.. calculating sods at the controls, like Sir Henry Chaspot Wayne, or long-suffering visionaries such as Lt.Sykes (even most politicians and generals) view the operation as one more against a continental militia and/or private army/armies than a real national military. There'll be fresh drafts hitting in coming months.

There's going to have to be the first major flood of immigration onto WoS's shores since ..well, since the C15th and 16th, really. Men and women from around the Empire will be arriving to take up jobs across Walmington in the hopes of sustaining the economy, there's a womens' movement due to bring women out of the home and into the workplace, and so on. I believe WoS, as the old-fashioned nation it has been, is quite well placed to lift out a big chunk of its workforce and to replace it quickly, easily, even more cheaply. It may not make everyone happy, but I never said this adventure was going to be a flawless success now, did I?

The views and beliefs expressed by various WoS characters are not always my own, but then I don't come from.. a land with barely a thousand television sets, with an Empire at its feet, with a public and governmental tradition such as Walmington's. I say that many Walmingtonians expect the Americans to see the error of their ways and to eventually fall in-line, but you see the tone in which I convey that, surely? I know its an unrealistic and slanted view, but when has Walmington ever expressed a realistic or even opinion?

Greater Commonwealth?

(Long story short, Wayne-driven WoS would like to see a summit of 'respectable powers' (WoS, Britain, Canada, Calarca, Iansisle, Ferrana, maybe Australia, maybe New Eastgate) regarding the American war- deciding strategy, carving up territory and forming related treaties, and far beyond that possibly forming some sort of new global economy. It's hopelessly ambitious and vague! :) )

WoS being what it is has long been keen to establish some sort of grand Anglo-Saxon/Celtic alliance of civilised, God-fearing states (some, the PM himself amongst them, are less awed by that last bit, but the likes of Sir Henry profess great faith). In their eyes a Greater Britain, because they are after all British in origin, and recognise Britain’s monarch as the head of their religion (though King Godfrey III is the keeper of the Walmingtonian church). Now, with this, “American thing” interest is all the greater.

I wonder if we couldn’t perhaps have some manner of summit, to which “allied” combatant powers would be invited along with other relevant British-ish states. Mainly it would be an attempt to co-ordinate the war effort... and likely to carve up America’s territories somewhat prior to America actually giving them up.

Of course you’re probably getting the impression that Mainwaring just might be behind this :)

There’s likely to be a lot of conflict over the Pacific side of things, I’d imagine, what with Iansisle, Calarca, and Ferrana involved. They’d all be invited, WoS too, and probably Britain, Canada, maybe even Australia. I suppose New Eastgate should be invited, but then I’d be controlling two and crowding the Pacific even more, so it’ll have to suffice to say that WoS still doesn’t like NE (too Catholic, which we overlook in the Ians...because of the reason. I’m sure no one would complain at keeping them out- plus it’ll make whoever wins the NE/Abargrapt war really bitter, which is fun).

It doesn’t have to work properly, someone is sure to walk-out, and it might be difficult to speak for none player controlled countries, but its just a thought. I’m thinking a meeting in maybe WoS, Canada, or Ferrana could be interesting, at least. We might even be able to give it some sort of spiffy title and create a document that’ll be remembered as the naive mistake that damn Mainwaring pushed the Pacific into, leading to such and such a war ten years from now, or such a grudge, or hey, even an improvement in relations.

Plus WoS wants to get British Commonwealth troops in to police captured American soil :) Our empire’s pretty sparsely populated and gearing up to plug labour gaps. Ooh, ooh, maybe Sir Henry could push his new philosophies, too. He’s desperate to industrialise the Cape, make Waynesia the bread (or beef) basket of the Anglo-Saxon world, and improve Ceyloba’s tea, spice, and opium production and export. Big ideas on “Greater British” migration and trade. He wants to start rebuilding the world to benefit his sort of people, and that means a sort of planet-wide federal empire.

WoS has copper, iron, gold, diamonds, fish, and beef, but is a tad short on oil and manpower, Iansisle has access to those, I dunno what Calarca and Ferrana have, but I’m sure it’s useful, and if not I’m sure Sir Henry can have a jolly good try at bullying them into producing whatever he lacks (more beef?). It’s a terribly fun vision, even if WoS may never convince rival Pacific powers to get on board. We can always try to convince them it’ll be profitable, stable, and that it’ll get them new technologies.