Praetonia
24-09-2006, 17:01
The Grand Fleet, 200nm South of Firenshaven, Spizania
“Allow us this day to serve our King and our Country in a manner appropriate to our grand martial tradition, such that years from now future generations will look back upon us and our deeds with pride in their hearts, safe in the knowledge that His Majesty’s Navy still reigns supreme over those who would have us broken and bloodied, for without the knowledge firm in their minds that any assault upon our Glorious Commonwealth shall be annihilated utterly, our enemies shall surely swarm to our borders.
“This war has been criticised as not our own – one fought in the interests of foreign powers with the blood of Praetonian soldiers. Nothing could be farther from the case. Our comrades in the United Kingdom are hard-pressed against Juumanistran invasion, provoked only be a desire to avenge the murder of their Glorious Queen. It is our sombre duty to do all in our power to smash those who would ally themselves with Regicides and mindless barbarians – to smash their standards, sink their fleets and leave their power broken against the rocks of time.
“Go to your duty today firm in the knowledge that you serve his Majesty King Sarius of Praetonia, the people of All the Commonwealth, and the most basic cause of civilisation itself.
“God Save the King!”
The Air Chief Marshal’s closing shout was echoed by thousands of men across dozens of ships. It would create a wave of patriotic further that would carry these men to their planes and then to the skies over Firenshaven that would surely soon be spattered with Praetonian blood, and Spizanian blood below.
Aircrews ran to their planes. This operation had been planned for months and the massive combined effort, that would have caused chaos and confusion under ordinary circumstances, was carried out with slick military precision, like a well-oiled machine. And a machine, reflected Flight Lieutenant George Harrison as he pulled himself into the cockpit of his Hussar strike fighter, was really what all this was. He strapped himself into the cockpit and prepared the plane for takeoff. He would be right in the vanguard. In past times, no doubt, he would have been an Officer in a cavalry regiment. Sabre in hand he would lead a charging mass of men who would bloody their swords against a massed enemy formation of infantry.
He scanned his instruments displayed on his HUD. Everything was normal. Today he would be not be just one of a massed formation of men and horses and sabres, but a massed formation of planes and missiles and cannon. In the past, he thought with a hint of sadness, a horse was simply an accessory a cavalryman needed to carry him to the enemy lines. Now, he was very much just a cog in an expensive machine.
”Lion Leader to Lion Squadron. Ready for departure?”
His squadron responded to the affirmative.
He heard a roar to his left – it was the Formidable launching the first plane of the day. His own plane taxied to the catapult that would use huge electromagnetic forces to fire his plane off the deck like a ball out of a cannon.
The plane jerked as it was locked into the catapult. The next moment he was being hurled forwards at several hundred miles per hour. He pulled back on the throttle and felt his plane shoot off the deck into the air. At least three squadrons worth of planes were already up, but he doubted a single plane was from the same squadron as any other. He settled in to circle the fleet for the next 20 minutes that would be required to allow the carriers to deploy their deadly payloads into the skies. The fleets had come together in the darkness of the early morning and for the first time in his life George saw the entire Grand Fleet together as one force.
It was vast.
Carriers and battleships and escorts stretched out to the horizon, and he knew that even from his own elevated position, there were yet more ships beyond. To his right, he saw one of the vast new Iron Duke-class supercapital warships. He banked right and swooped down to get a closer look. The name on the bow read Conqueror. The Conqueror was clearly getting ready for battle too – George could see men scurrying about on the vast deck like ants on a huge grey motorway. Her massive guns were being trained upwards, possibly to rain shells down upon the Spizanians as soon as his own attack was finished.
“Den Command to Lion Squadron, you may advance when ready.” The voice coming over his intercom snapped George back to the matter at hand. He noticed his squadron had now fallen in behind him, and a waypoint marker had appeared on his navigational computer.
“Confirmed, Den Command.”
“May I wish you the joy of the day?”
________________________________________________________________________________________
“Lion Leader to Lion Squadron, follow waypoint left.” They had spent the last hour or so flying low to the water, hoping to avoid any radar the Spizanians may have pointed out to sea. It was dark now and the dark-grey planes were all but invisible against both the water, the sky and the land up ahead.
The squadron banked left and entered the hilly terrain that extended for miles around the Spizanian fjord harbour. As part of the first wave, George’s squadron would attack blind and attempt to knock out as many defences as possible. At the same time, twelve other squadrons would attack from all directions in an attempt to avoid detection.
It would be another ten minutes of winding in and out of deep valleys and steep encompassing peaks before they reached their target. George did not think he would be afraid of battle, but the perpetual waiting had his nerves frayed. This was only made worse by the crumpled terrain below him which created shadows and ghosts that looked one moment like a missile streaking towards him, the next like a squadron of enemy planes ready to swoop in for the kill. He found himself singing quietly to himself a patriotic song that had been one of his favourites as a child:
“For thee, oh pleasant land—all earthly things above—
To thee I devote my life, my unreserved love;”
His squadron inched closer to the mass of Spizanian ships and men that waited, hidden behind some unknown number of valleys ahead, to tear into them with guns and missiles and splatter the ground with their blood.
“I shall take up the sword for thee, and raise my banner high,
And in direst days for thee I should gladly die;”
George thought he could see a building ahead – a radar post, maybe? No – just a trick of the shadows.
“But I look out to sea - ships still float o'er the waves!
And I know that nation-hood—and vict'ry are saved.”
George sighed. Maybe there weren’t any Spizanian ships at all and this was all just some elaborate training exercise. He started the second verse:
“We people of this great nation—shrouded by the sea—
Proud and Noble we stand and sing, wrethed in liberty;”
He squinted. Was that a building?
“Lion 5 to Squadron Leader – radar detected. Engaged!” He heard the shout and banked quickly. A missile was streaking towards him at high speed. His plane rolled and the missile skimmed past by mere metres, before running out of fuel and crashing into the ground below – just a shoulder-held missile! He breathed a sigh of relief. He had had terrible visions in his mind of dozens of long-range SAMs smashing into his squadron and tearing it ragged. Instead, Lion 5 had already launched his two anti-radiation missiles and the sky was lit up as the building ahead – real afterall – hurled debris into the air as it exploded.
“Lion Leader to all Squadrons – The enemy is engaged! Charge!”
The song was still going through his head, although he had stopped singing aloud, as he pushed all his weight onto the throttle, causing the plane to hurtle forwards at maximum speed. One moment he was over a deserted, dark, empty wilderness and the next he was over what looked like a vast city built on the water, bristling with masts and guns. The sky was lit up brighter than the day by luminescent shells and dozens of spotlights which scanned the sky to direct murderous fire into the ranks of his men.
“From Manium to Praeton, to the mists of our great hills;
We stand to guard our Empire, from all evil will;”
“Lion Leader to Lion Squadron – Engage! Engage!” As he shouted the second time, he loosed two missiles at the first ship he saw – a carrier. “Destroy the carriers first! Destroy them first! Don’t let them take off!” His last remark was directed at the Spizanian planes. Below him on a second carrier he could see men rushing to their planes. He eased the throttle forwards and banked his plane to face them. Then he dived, his 35mm cannon ripping great chunks of metal out of the enemy deck and blowing up a plane on the deck. Then the stream of shells reached the mass of men rushing to planes. He turned away from the terrible sight.
Behind him, the carrier he had fired his missiles at was belching a plume of flame into the air. He must have hit a fuel dump that the Spizanians, not anticipating an attack, had left open on the deck to save time in refuelling. The rest of his squadron was dropping torpedoes and firing missiles at the tightly packed ships. He saw dozens more planes burst into the fjord from the North and East, firing ordnance as they went. He saw a 4,000lbs bomb smash into the deck of a destroyer. At first he thought it was a dud, but it was merely waiting for its timer fuse to reach the explosive, having been dropped from such a low height. Deep inside the ship, the bomb exploded, breaking the keel and snapping the ship in half.
All of George’s fears had abandoned him. The thrill of battle had taken its place. And what a thrill! ‘This is so easy!’ He thought to himself, loosing a burst of cannonfire at the deck of a battleship where a group of sailors were trying to put out a fire started by a bomb dropped by another squadron. The Spizanians had no means of defending themselves. Caught unawares, few ships were ready to return fire and those that were could not target the low-flying planes. George saw a 30mm gun crew fire at a plane he recognised as Lion 3 – one of his own! He banked his plane to face the emplacement, swooped down and shredded it with a burst of 35mm cannonfire. Then, remembering he had a single bomb left, he finished off the frigate it belonged to.
”For thee, oh pleasant land, we be proud to give our lives,
So that thy glory may for an—eternity survive!”
He shouted the words allowed – the last two lines of the last verse of the song. The Spizanian fleet was now in disarray and, although this initial wave had all but run out of munitions, carriers and battleships were burning, and numerous escorts lay on the bottom of the fjord. George turned his plane to face a new target – a destroyer – and dived at it, holding his finger down on the cannon trigger. The next moment he saw a 20mm cannon pointed at him from the stern of the ship. He tried to dodge, but it was too late. Cannon shells smashed into his tail plane and sent his plane crashing into the sea. He didn’t have time to eject. As the paint that had moments before read ‘For King and Commonwealth’ smouldered on the side of his sinking aircraft, the battle continued above him. The second wave – a vast armada of 1,200 planes - was just arriving.
“Allow us this day to serve our King and our Country in a manner appropriate to our grand martial tradition, such that years from now future generations will look back upon us and our deeds with pride in their hearts, safe in the knowledge that His Majesty’s Navy still reigns supreme over those who would have us broken and bloodied, for without the knowledge firm in their minds that any assault upon our Glorious Commonwealth shall be annihilated utterly, our enemies shall surely swarm to our borders.
“This war has been criticised as not our own – one fought in the interests of foreign powers with the blood of Praetonian soldiers. Nothing could be farther from the case. Our comrades in the United Kingdom are hard-pressed against Juumanistran invasion, provoked only be a desire to avenge the murder of their Glorious Queen. It is our sombre duty to do all in our power to smash those who would ally themselves with Regicides and mindless barbarians – to smash their standards, sink their fleets and leave their power broken against the rocks of time.
“Go to your duty today firm in the knowledge that you serve his Majesty King Sarius of Praetonia, the people of All the Commonwealth, and the most basic cause of civilisation itself.
“God Save the King!”
The Air Chief Marshal’s closing shout was echoed by thousands of men across dozens of ships. It would create a wave of patriotic further that would carry these men to their planes and then to the skies over Firenshaven that would surely soon be spattered with Praetonian blood, and Spizanian blood below.
Aircrews ran to their planes. This operation had been planned for months and the massive combined effort, that would have caused chaos and confusion under ordinary circumstances, was carried out with slick military precision, like a well-oiled machine. And a machine, reflected Flight Lieutenant George Harrison as he pulled himself into the cockpit of his Hussar strike fighter, was really what all this was. He strapped himself into the cockpit and prepared the plane for takeoff. He would be right in the vanguard. In past times, no doubt, he would have been an Officer in a cavalry regiment. Sabre in hand he would lead a charging mass of men who would bloody their swords against a massed enemy formation of infantry.
He scanned his instruments displayed on his HUD. Everything was normal. Today he would be not be just one of a massed formation of men and horses and sabres, but a massed formation of planes and missiles and cannon. In the past, he thought with a hint of sadness, a horse was simply an accessory a cavalryman needed to carry him to the enemy lines. Now, he was very much just a cog in an expensive machine.
”Lion Leader to Lion Squadron. Ready for departure?”
His squadron responded to the affirmative.
He heard a roar to his left – it was the Formidable launching the first plane of the day. His own plane taxied to the catapult that would use huge electromagnetic forces to fire his plane off the deck like a ball out of a cannon.
The plane jerked as it was locked into the catapult. The next moment he was being hurled forwards at several hundred miles per hour. He pulled back on the throttle and felt his plane shoot off the deck into the air. At least three squadrons worth of planes were already up, but he doubted a single plane was from the same squadron as any other. He settled in to circle the fleet for the next 20 minutes that would be required to allow the carriers to deploy their deadly payloads into the skies. The fleets had come together in the darkness of the early morning and for the first time in his life George saw the entire Grand Fleet together as one force.
It was vast.
Carriers and battleships and escorts stretched out to the horizon, and he knew that even from his own elevated position, there were yet more ships beyond. To his right, he saw one of the vast new Iron Duke-class supercapital warships. He banked right and swooped down to get a closer look. The name on the bow read Conqueror. The Conqueror was clearly getting ready for battle too – George could see men scurrying about on the vast deck like ants on a huge grey motorway. Her massive guns were being trained upwards, possibly to rain shells down upon the Spizanians as soon as his own attack was finished.
“Den Command to Lion Squadron, you may advance when ready.” The voice coming over his intercom snapped George back to the matter at hand. He noticed his squadron had now fallen in behind him, and a waypoint marker had appeared on his navigational computer.
“Confirmed, Den Command.”
“May I wish you the joy of the day?”
________________________________________________________________________________________
“Lion Leader to Lion Squadron, follow waypoint left.” They had spent the last hour or so flying low to the water, hoping to avoid any radar the Spizanians may have pointed out to sea. It was dark now and the dark-grey planes were all but invisible against both the water, the sky and the land up ahead.
The squadron banked left and entered the hilly terrain that extended for miles around the Spizanian fjord harbour. As part of the first wave, George’s squadron would attack blind and attempt to knock out as many defences as possible. At the same time, twelve other squadrons would attack from all directions in an attempt to avoid detection.
It would be another ten minutes of winding in and out of deep valleys and steep encompassing peaks before they reached their target. George did not think he would be afraid of battle, but the perpetual waiting had his nerves frayed. This was only made worse by the crumpled terrain below him which created shadows and ghosts that looked one moment like a missile streaking towards him, the next like a squadron of enemy planes ready to swoop in for the kill. He found himself singing quietly to himself a patriotic song that had been one of his favourites as a child:
“For thee, oh pleasant land—all earthly things above—
To thee I devote my life, my unreserved love;”
His squadron inched closer to the mass of Spizanian ships and men that waited, hidden behind some unknown number of valleys ahead, to tear into them with guns and missiles and splatter the ground with their blood.
“I shall take up the sword for thee, and raise my banner high,
And in direst days for thee I should gladly die;”
George thought he could see a building ahead – a radar post, maybe? No – just a trick of the shadows.
“But I look out to sea - ships still float o'er the waves!
And I know that nation-hood—and vict'ry are saved.”
George sighed. Maybe there weren’t any Spizanian ships at all and this was all just some elaborate training exercise. He started the second verse:
“We people of this great nation—shrouded by the sea—
Proud and Noble we stand and sing, wrethed in liberty;”
He squinted. Was that a building?
“Lion 5 to Squadron Leader – radar detected. Engaged!” He heard the shout and banked quickly. A missile was streaking towards him at high speed. His plane rolled and the missile skimmed past by mere metres, before running out of fuel and crashing into the ground below – just a shoulder-held missile! He breathed a sigh of relief. He had had terrible visions in his mind of dozens of long-range SAMs smashing into his squadron and tearing it ragged. Instead, Lion 5 had already launched his two anti-radiation missiles and the sky was lit up as the building ahead – real afterall – hurled debris into the air as it exploded.
“Lion Leader to all Squadrons – The enemy is engaged! Charge!”
The song was still going through his head, although he had stopped singing aloud, as he pushed all his weight onto the throttle, causing the plane to hurtle forwards at maximum speed. One moment he was over a deserted, dark, empty wilderness and the next he was over what looked like a vast city built on the water, bristling with masts and guns. The sky was lit up brighter than the day by luminescent shells and dozens of spotlights which scanned the sky to direct murderous fire into the ranks of his men.
“From Manium to Praeton, to the mists of our great hills;
We stand to guard our Empire, from all evil will;”
“Lion Leader to Lion Squadron – Engage! Engage!” As he shouted the second time, he loosed two missiles at the first ship he saw – a carrier. “Destroy the carriers first! Destroy them first! Don’t let them take off!” His last remark was directed at the Spizanian planes. Below him on a second carrier he could see men rushing to their planes. He eased the throttle forwards and banked his plane to face them. Then he dived, his 35mm cannon ripping great chunks of metal out of the enemy deck and blowing up a plane on the deck. Then the stream of shells reached the mass of men rushing to planes. He turned away from the terrible sight.
Behind him, the carrier he had fired his missiles at was belching a plume of flame into the air. He must have hit a fuel dump that the Spizanians, not anticipating an attack, had left open on the deck to save time in refuelling. The rest of his squadron was dropping torpedoes and firing missiles at the tightly packed ships. He saw dozens more planes burst into the fjord from the North and East, firing ordnance as they went. He saw a 4,000lbs bomb smash into the deck of a destroyer. At first he thought it was a dud, but it was merely waiting for its timer fuse to reach the explosive, having been dropped from such a low height. Deep inside the ship, the bomb exploded, breaking the keel and snapping the ship in half.
All of George’s fears had abandoned him. The thrill of battle had taken its place. And what a thrill! ‘This is so easy!’ He thought to himself, loosing a burst of cannonfire at the deck of a battleship where a group of sailors were trying to put out a fire started by a bomb dropped by another squadron. The Spizanians had no means of defending themselves. Caught unawares, few ships were ready to return fire and those that were could not target the low-flying planes. George saw a 30mm gun crew fire at a plane he recognised as Lion 3 – one of his own! He banked his plane to face the emplacement, swooped down and shredded it with a burst of 35mm cannonfire. Then, remembering he had a single bomb left, he finished off the frigate it belonged to.
”For thee, oh pleasant land, we be proud to give our lives,
So that thy glory may for an—eternity survive!”
He shouted the words allowed – the last two lines of the last verse of the song. The Spizanian fleet was now in disarray and, although this initial wave had all but run out of munitions, carriers and battleships were burning, and numerous escorts lay on the bottom of the fjord. George turned his plane to face a new target – a destroyer – and dived at it, holding his finger down on the cannon trigger. The next moment he saw a 20mm cannon pointed at him from the stern of the ship. He tried to dodge, but it was too late. Cannon shells smashed into his tail plane and sent his plane crashing into the sea. He didn’t have time to eject. As the paint that had moments before read ‘For King and Commonwealth’ smouldered on the side of his sinking aircraft, the battle continued above him. The second wave – a vast armada of 1,200 planes - was just arriving.