A Shift in Priorities - Sequel
- Thread starter rast
- Start date
So it is those women. Huh... time does fly by.
I must say I like the name Nebojsa. I had no idea that it is an actual name.
And if you take requests, I'd kindly ask for a post about Czechoslovakia if possible. Please.
That seems like a pretty solid summation of where Serbian identity is ITTL. Some are Bulgar-izing, some have emigrated, and some are complacently reminiscing.
Again, I think the EVEG countries, the Baltic states, and Finland are looking for ways to keep their Russian minorities from rebelling. Bulgarian methods are probably a place to start, even if the change we're talking about is generational. It still could be too late for parts of the EVEG countries, but Finland has some time, and probably the Baltics.
Again, I think the EVEG countries, the Baltic states, and Finland are looking for ways to keep their Russian minorities from rebelling. Bulgarian methods are probably a place to start, even if the change we're talking about is generational. It still could be too late for parts of the EVEG countries, but Finland has some time, and probably the Baltics.
"I fear a unicorn less than I did two giants! Seven at one blow is my motto!"
(Brothers Grimm)
When SMMAS Mbam finally arrived on the scene, WAUS Divo was still in deep trouble, and the English task force was off and gone. Approximately the first five metres of Divo's forecastle were missing, chopped off by the English destroyer's bow. There must be more damage deep down, because the ship had been taking water. What remained of the forecastle was low in the water, while the stern had come up. The propellers were twirling awash. There was no real danger that Divo might sink, the strict compartmentisation of German designs required more than such a trivial damage to scuttle a vessel, but she had become pretty much immobile.
Fregattenkapitän Sigmund Z'Ledi had a broken nose, a cracked tooth, some very ugly scratches – and was in an absolutely lousy mood. The forecastle was crew quarters. Because everybody had been on his battle station, and all bulkheads had been shut, loss of life was limited to five missing. But about half of the crew had been injured – broken limbs, nudged heads, contusions, bruises, all the injuries a sudden collision could cause. – Z'Ledi was thankful for the offer of assistance by Mbam's doctor and his medics; however, he declined the offer to tow Divo to Anumabo naval base near Abidjan.
No thank you, one would start flooding several sections in the poop, once the worst wounds had been treated. That should bring the propellers below surface again. And then, one would proceed to Anumabo – slowly, granted, because one would have to sail stern first, but under one's own steam. If Mbam choose to stay in the vicinity, one wouldn't bitch, yet, WAUS Divo was no hulk to be towed away... Korvettenkapitän Magba, Mbam's master, didn't mind to stay close. One could learn a lot, by hook or by crook...
The cursed English hadn't even cared to stop after the incident. Their fucking 'ironclad' – that was Z'Ledi's label for the destroyer which had ploughed across his ship – had just kept on going. Right now, the whole Tommy task force had vanished without a trace. One didn't have the photographs Z'Ledi had wanted... – But one was going to get them, the radio shack Bootsmann came forward: he had called Anumabo naval air. They had sent out two recce floatplanes. The Limeys might be able to ram WAUS Divo and elope, but they hardly would manage to escape the fast Rumplers...
That was Clarke, the cheeky warrant officer from... Alabama? Or was it Arkansas? Z'Ledi was torn between major bollocking and commendation. Okay, praise was appropriate, but in a measured way, after all immediate information was announced, not post-factum smart alecking... But it was good that the bloody Englishmen didn't get away. Z'Ledi wondered why they had reacted so fiercely. Hopefully, the aerial photographs would reveal the secret...
(Brothers Grimm)
When SMMAS Mbam finally arrived on the scene, WAUS Divo was still in deep trouble, and the English task force was off and gone. Approximately the first five metres of Divo's forecastle were missing, chopped off by the English destroyer's bow. There must be more damage deep down, because the ship had been taking water. What remained of the forecastle was low in the water, while the stern had come up. The propellers were twirling awash. There was no real danger that Divo might sink, the strict compartmentisation of German designs required more than such a trivial damage to scuttle a vessel, but she had become pretty much immobile.
Fregattenkapitän Sigmund Z'Ledi had a broken nose, a cracked tooth, some very ugly scratches – and was in an absolutely lousy mood. The forecastle was crew quarters. Because everybody had been on his battle station, and all bulkheads had been shut, loss of life was limited to five missing. But about half of the crew had been injured – broken limbs, nudged heads, contusions, bruises, all the injuries a sudden collision could cause. – Z'Ledi was thankful for the offer of assistance by Mbam's doctor and his medics; however, he declined the offer to tow Divo to Anumabo naval base near Abidjan.
No thank you, one would start flooding several sections in the poop, once the worst wounds had been treated. That should bring the propellers below surface again. And then, one would proceed to Anumabo – slowly, granted, because one would have to sail stern first, but under one's own steam. If Mbam choose to stay in the vicinity, one wouldn't bitch, yet, WAUS Divo was no hulk to be towed away... Korvettenkapitän Magba, Mbam's master, didn't mind to stay close. One could learn a lot, by hook or by crook...
The cursed English hadn't even cared to stop after the incident. Their fucking 'ironclad' – that was Z'Ledi's label for the destroyer which had ploughed across his ship – had just kept on going. Right now, the whole Tommy task force had vanished without a trace. One didn't have the photographs Z'Ledi had wanted... – But one was going to get them, the radio shack Bootsmann came forward: he had called Anumabo naval air. They had sent out two recce floatplanes. The Limeys might be able to ram WAUS Divo and elope, but they hardly would manage to escape the fast Rumplers...
That was Clarke, the cheeky warrant officer from... Alabama? Or was it Arkansas? Z'Ledi was torn between major bollocking and commendation. Okay, praise was appropriate, but in a measured way, after all immediate information was announced, not post-factum smart alecking... But it was good that the bloody Englishmen didn't get away. Z'Ledi wondered why they had reacted so fiercely. Hopefully, the aerial photographs would reveal the secret...
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Oh joy, the next diplomatic crisis. Red Albion really cannot catch a break.
Frankly, after all the shit they've pulled off, they're not really in a position to get good breaks.
Most men are not wicked... They are sleep-walkers, not evil evildoers.
(Franz Kafka)
The Rocket Riots had been an unpleasant surprise for Luigi Esposito, or rather their annoying end, when most of his German end users had been sent to jail. Luigi was selling to all of Europe, except Red Albion, but the spoilt kids of the German upper classes had been his best customers, by far. – It was a financial debacle that almost had ruined him; only by chipping in all his savings had he been able to save Frutti Esotici from bankruptcy. – But then, a small miracle had happened: many fugitive rioters were gathering in the Prague metropolitan area, and they were interested in buying his merchandise. It wasn't big business, real big business, but it could be enough to stabilise his reeling enterprise.
The Bohemian nationalists, led by disloyal folks like Edvard Beneš and Tomáš G. Masaryk, who had sided with the Entente powers, had been outright disappointed by the outcome of the Great War. Nevertheless, the collapse of the Austro-Hungarian Empire had eventually led to the creation of a Czech state, however one that was considerably smaller than the traitors had dreamt of. Between the loyal Austrian troops of General Conrad and the threat of German intervention, a plebiscite had defined the borders of the new nation, leaving all areas with German speaking majority – and, to the ire of the nationalists, also several with Czech speaking majority – outside. The industrial agglomerations of Pilsen and Brünn had gone to the Bavarian Kingdom and the Austrian Archduchy respectively. Only the Prague factory works, mainly PČMS, Kolben & Co, Danĕk & Co, Praga, and Ringhofer-Tatra had remained.
Thus, Prague, attracting job seekers from all over the republic, had grown to a veritable metropolis, where eventually half the Czech population was living and working. In addition, the city was the capital of the Czecho-Slovakian state und accommodated all joint administrative bodies, pulling in even more people. – The Slovaks, cherishing their hard-won autonomy, had preferred to send all their paper pushers to Prague, instead of receiving a share of Czech mandarins in Baňská Bystrica. – To this large city, the German peaceniks and rioters had fled in troves, because Prague, at least the downtown, still was bilingual. Well, and because the Czech authorities didn't show any zeal in executing German requests for extradition.
Luigi had travelled to Prague in company of Ulrike Freifrau von Drosedow, his lover. – The city had been an important stage in his main trade route to Germany. Therefore, he had old business partners he could meet. – Ulrike had come along to do some exclusive shopping, on the move in Vienna, now in Prague. She didn't know about Luigi's problems, because he hadn't told her, and was lavishing his precious money. But it served also as his agenda: the successful Italian fruit merchant from Naples and his noble Teutonic paramour had come on a luxury shopping trip to Central Europe. That was as innocuous a story as could be. After all, the frightful Arthur Nebe was still in office...
When Luigi returned to the hotel from the preliminary discussion with his business partners, Ulrike had also just arrived. She had bought a lot – and drunk a lot. All those high-end premises were serving free French or Crimean champagne to their customers. Right now, Ulrike wanted sex, rough-and-tumble. – It was a very exhausted Luigi, virtually pumped dry, who started his sightseeing tour three hours later, after Ulrike had finally fallen asleep. Downtown Prague was a huge red light district after dark, he discovered. Customers from all over Europe, even from Russia and the Ottoman Empire, were out to enjoy the myriads of offers. The fugitive Rocket Rioters obviously made their living by selling their bodies, girls and boys alike. But many poor women from the outlying workers' quarters – and many other wenches from everywhere and the Balkans – were also advertising their services. There were bars, brothels, clubs, striptease establishments, whatever your taste...
It was a real pity he was sucked dry, Luigi was grumbling, seeing some really beautiful broads. – Well, by law all this was illegal, his business partners told him. But the City of Prague was profiting greatly from all the international punters, who also had to sleep, eat, drink... So, the police was turning two blind eyes to events. – Now, if that wasn't an ideal premise for an excellent business... – Yeah, acceded his business partners, but one better hurried, the Pan-Turan competitors had already been seen in Prague, surveying the situation. Well, alluded Luigi, they were coming from outside the COMECON and had to pass the common customs boundary. He was intra-COMECON and could deliver far quicker and cheaper. He had beaten them before.
[FONT="]But they were mean, opined his business partners, and they were in league with the Czech hooligans, who were even meaner. The hooligans resided in the satellite suburbs, where the going was rough, they stuck at nothing. – Well, who was in control downtown? Who was protecting whoreland from the bad lot? – Oh, the local business community had organised a kind of protective service, rather soft, because the Rocket Rioters hadn't turned rabid yet – and weren't particularly organised. – Well, this was going to change, certainly. But one could arrange a profitable agreement with whoever was the boss. He, Luigi, had ample experience with arrangements of all kinds... [/FONT]
(Franz Kafka)
The Rocket Riots had been an unpleasant surprise for Luigi Esposito, or rather their annoying end, when most of his German end users had been sent to jail. Luigi was selling to all of Europe, except Red Albion, but the spoilt kids of the German upper classes had been his best customers, by far. – It was a financial debacle that almost had ruined him; only by chipping in all his savings had he been able to save Frutti Esotici from bankruptcy. – But then, a small miracle had happened: many fugitive rioters were gathering in the Prague metropolitan area, and they were interested in buying his merchandise. It wasn't big business, real big business, but it could be enough to stabilise his reeling enterprise.
The Bohemian nationalists, led by disloyal folks like Edvard Beneš and Tomáš G. Masaryk, who had sided with the Entente powers, had been outright disappointed by the outcome of the Great War. Nevertheless, the collapse of the Austro-Hungarian Empire had eventually led to the creation of a Czech state, however one that was considerably smaller than the traitors had dreamt of. Between the loyal Austrian troops of General Conrad and the threat of German intervention, a plebiscite had defined the borders of the new nation, leaving all areas with German speaking majority – and, to the ire of the nationalists, also several with Czech speaking majority – outside. The industrial agglomerations of Pilsen and Brünn had gone to the Bavarian Kingdom and the Austrian Archduchy respectively. Only the Prague factory works, mainly PČMS, Kolben & Co, Danĕk & Co, Praga, and Ringhofer-Tatra had remained.
Thus, Prague, attracting job seekers from all over the republic, had grown to a veritable metropolis, where eventually half the Czech population was living and working. In addition, the city was the capital of the Czecho-Slovakian state und accommodated all joint administrative bodies, pulling in even more people. – The Slovaks, cherishing their hard-won autonomy, had preferred to send all their paper pushers to Prague, instead of receiving a share of Czech mandarins in Baňská Bystrica. – To this large city, the German peaceniks and rioters had fled in troves, because Prague, at least the downtown, still was bilingual. Well, and because the Czech authorities didn't show any zeal in executing German requests for extradition.
Luigi had travelled to Prague in company of Ulrike Freifrau von Drosedow, his lover. – The city had been an important stage in his main trade route to Germany. Therefore, he had old business partners he could meet. – Ulrike had come along to do some exclusive shopping, on the move in Vienna, now in Prague. She didn't know about Luigi's problems, because he hadn't told her, and was lavishing his precious money. But it served also as his agenda: the successful Italian fruit merchant from Naples and his noble Teutonic paramour had come on a luxury shopping trip to Central Europe. That was as innocuous a story as could be. After all, the frightful Arthur Nebe was still in office...
When Luigi returned to the hotel from the preliminary discussion with his business partners, Ulrike had also just arrived. She had bought a lot – and drunk a lot. All those high-end premises were serving free French or Crimean champagne to their customers. Right now, Ulrike wanted sex, rough-and-tumble. – It was a very exhausted Luigi, virtually pumped dry, who started his sightseeing tour three hours later, after Ulrike had finally fallen asleep. Downtown Prague was a huge red light district after dark, he discovered. Customers from all over Europe, even from Russia and the Ottoman Empire, were out to enjoy the myriads of offers. The fugitive Rocket Rioters obviously made their living by selling their bodies, girls and boys alike. But many poor women from the outlying workers' quarters – and many other wenches from everywhere and the Balkans – were also advertising their services. There were bars, brothels, clubs, striptease establishments, whatever your taste...
It was a real pity he was sucked dry, Luigi was grumbling, seeing some really beautiful broads. – Well, by law all this was illegal, his business partners told him. But the City of Prague was profiting greatly from all the international punters, who also had to sleep, eat, drink... So, the police was turning two blind eyes to events. – Now, if that wasn't an ideal premise for an excellent business... – Yeah, acceded his business partners, but one better hurried, the Pan-Turan competitors had already been seen in Prague, surveying the situation. Well, alluded Luigi, they were coming from outside the COMECON and had to pass the common customs boundary. He was intra-COMECON and could deliver far quicker and cheaper. He had beaten them before.
[FONT="]But they were mean, opined his business partners, and they were in league with the Czech hooligans, who were even meaner. The hooligans resided in the satellite suburbs, where the going was rough, they stuck at nothing. – Well, who was in control downtown? Who was protecting whoreland from the bad lot? – Oh, the local business community had organised a kind of protective service, rather soft, because the Rocket Rioters hadn't turned rabid yet – and weren't particularly organised. – Well, this was going to change, certainly. But one could arrange a profitable agreement with whoever was the boss. He, Luigi, had ample experience with arrangements of all kinds... [/FONT]
Nice. Thanks for the update!
It's nice to see these updates about the minor countries as well. (Of course I asked for this because I am Slovak.)
I must say I didn't expect Brünn/Brno to be German. It's quite far "inland".
A small nitpick though. It's Banská, not Baňská, Bystrica. (Unless the rules of the language were changed because of the Czech influence, which they probably didn't, as Slovakia has autonomy.) I also didn't expect BB to be the capital of Slovak autonomous land. With the two largest OTL Slovak cities being part of Hungary in TTL, I guess there's no other choice then. I just always imagine either Turčiansky Svätý Martin (just Martin in OTL now) or Nitra to be Slovakia's capital in such cases. (For historical reasons.)
Again, thanks for the update!
It's nice to see these updates about the minor countries as well. (Of course I asked for this because I am Slovak.
)I must say I didn't expect Brünn/Brno to be German. It's quite far "inland".
A small nitpick though. It's Banská, not Baňská, Bystrica. (Unless the rules of the language were changed because of the Czech influence, which they probably didn't, as Slovakia has autonomy.) I also didn't expect BB to be the capital of Slovak autonomous land. With the two largest OTL Slovak cities being part of Hungary in TTL, I guess there's no other choice then. I just always imagine either Turčiansky Svätý Martin (just Martin in OTL now) or Nitra to be Slovakia's capital in such cases. (For historical reasons.)
Again, thanks for the update!
This scene will last not even two seconds, if the German government decides to eliminate it.
And there is no reason that this will not happen anytime now.
And there is no reason that this will not happen anytime now.
Participation from German refugees might be ended quickly, but I don't think you turn downtown Prague into the continent's red light destination over night. That had to be preexisting.
Also, Germany's MO ITTL has been to ignore what happens outside her borders for the past 10-15 years. Though maybe *directly* outside will be close enough.
According to my information, it was Baňská until 1927 IOTL, by when it was changed to Banská. Therefore, I assumed Czech influence in the change, which ITTL wouldn't happen.
By the way, could I ask how much money exactly Europe is making. I'm not sure if you've posted GDP or anything like that before, besides that Germany and Russia are leading, but it would be interesting to see a top 15 or top 20 countries of Europe. Not asking for an entire post, just a small list showing the advances that have been made when it comes to economies. Just to see the difference from OTL's stagnation due to the war, without the post-war boom.
The dead man, however, got up and cried: "Now will I strangle you."
(Brothers Grimm)
The busted WAUS Divo was safely moored at Anumabo naval base – and Fregattenkapitän Sigmund Z'Ledi had collected a severe reprimand for having one of the navy's capital ships seriously damaged, pointlessly damaged. – At least the Rumpler recce planes had provided first-class images of the English task force. But looking at them, one was none the wiser. One of the miscellaneous vessels had been a troopship, good for an infantry regiment – or equivalent. There had been soldiers on board. A second vessel looked like a military replenishment ship, yet, one couldn't discern what it had been carrying. The other five miscellaneous vessels were simple cargo steamers, none of them deeply loaded. The men of war looked like English men of war used to look. The aircraft carrier had been identified as HMS Rodney, commissioned in 1924; the two fast battleships were found to be HMS Courageous and Hood, junk, even older than the obsolete carrier.
Divo couldn't be repaired at Anumabo. She needed a dry dock. That meant Duala; but the high level negotiations with the Middle Africans were still pending. Therefore, the ancient military mantra "hurry up and wait" applied. Anumabo, situated reasonably close to the border to Gold Coast, was considered the navy's outpost opposite the English threat. That meant: no leisure, no leave, no fun. The crew was kept busy tidying up the ship; Z'Ledi was integrated into the duty schedule of the post command. That was tedious, but opened up all information channels for him. – To no avail regarding the English task force. They had left Accra after four days and were well on their way back to England. Because Deygbo and London had broken off diplomatic relations already during the Sierra Leone imbroglios – and never had resumed them, one couldn't even properly protest the damage done.
Eventually, the clearance for Duala arrived. A navy tug, WAUS Emere, was to escort Divo. The journey passed off uneventfully. – Duala naval station was something to stare with wide eyes. Z'Ledi knew the place, of course, but the crew was agape. Well, the Germans had built this all, years ago. The arrogant Middle Africans had received all these wonderful facilities as a morning gift, while the poor West Africans had to work hard for every tiny improvement. But nevertheless, it was impressive... – And while Divo was being repaired, one could go on leave, in turns, sure, but... – Duala was no cheap precinct, however, and the purses were small. So, one quickly ended up with chips and beer at the enlisted men's club.
The news of the epidemic in Gold Coast almost got lost in the hassle of the Middle African electoral campaign. But Z'Ledi was still tuned to be observant of things which might be – even if loosely – connected to his mischief. Once detected, it was, however, not difficult to obtain more information. The English had tried to sweep the word under the carpet, but the Ashanti were keen to tell the world what was afflicting them. – Again it was Clarke, the smart aleck, who first jumped to a conclusion...
"Herr Kapitän," he addressed Z'Ledi, "what, if the Limeys are trying to kill two birds with one stone? – And the furious task force was bringing the weapon to Accra?"
"What are you talking about, Bootsmann?"
"They test a new weapon – and use the test to decimate the trouble-making Ashanti."
"What weapon?"
"The disease, the epidemic, the fever..."
(Brothers Grimm)
The busted WAUS Divo was safely moored at Anumabo naval base – and Fregattenkapitän Sigmund Z'Ledi had collected a severe reprimand for having one of the navy's capital ships seriously damaged, pointlessly damaged. – At least the Rumpler recce planes had provided first-class images of the English task force. But looking at them, one was none the wiser. One of the miscellaneous vessels had been a troopship, good for an infantry regiment – or equivalent. There had been soldiers on board. A second vessel looked like a military replenishment ship, yet, one couldn't discern what it had been carrying. The other five miscellaneous vessels were simple cargo steamers, none of them deeply loaded. The men of war looked like English men of war used to look. The aircraft carrier had been identified as HMS Rodney, commissioned in 1924; the two fast battleships were found to be HMS Courageous and Hood, junk, even older than the obsolete carrier.
Divo couldn't be repaired at Anumabo. She needed a dry dock. That meant Duala; but the high level negotiations with the Middle Africans were still pending. Therefore, the ancient military mantra "hurry up and wait" applied. Anumabo, situated reasonably close to the border to Gold Coast, was considered the navy's outpost opposite the English threat. That meant: no leisure, no leave, no fun. The crew was kept busy tidying up the ship; Z'Ledi was integrated into the duty schedule of the post command. That was tedious, but opened up all information channels for him. – To no avail regarding the English task force. They had left Accra after four days and were well on their way back to England. Because Deygbo and London had broken off diplomatic relations already during the Sierra Leone imbroglios – and never had resumed them, one couldn't even properly protest the damage done.
Eventually, the clearance for Duala arrived. A navy tug, WAUS Emere, was to escort Divo. The journey passed off uneventfully. – Duala naval station was something to stare with wide eyes. Z'Ledi knew the place, of course, but the crew was agape. Well, the Germans had built this all, years ago. The arrogant Middle Africans had received all these wonderful facilities as a morning gift, while the poor West Africans had to work hard for every tiny improvement. But nevertheless, it was impressive... – And while Divo was being repaired, one could go on leave, in turns, sure, but... – Duala was no cheap precinct, however, and the purses were small. So, one quickly ended up with chips and beer at the enlisted men's club.
The news of the epidemic in Gold Coast almost got lost in the hassle of the Middle African electoral campaign. But Z'Ledi was still tuned to be observant of things which might be – even if loosely – connected to his mischief. Once detected, it was, however, not difficult to obtain more information. The English had tried to sweep the word under the carpet, but the Ashanti were keen to tell the world what was afflicting them. – Again it was Clarke, the smart aleck, who first jumped to a conclusion...
"Herr Kapitän," he addressed Z'Ledi, "what, if the Limeys are trying to kill two birds with one stone? – And the furious task force was bringing the weapon to Accra?"
"What are you talking about, Bootsmann?"
"They test a new weapon – and use the test to decimate the trouble-making Ashanti."
"What weapon?"
"The disease, the epidemic, the fever..."
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Uh-Oh. I wonder what this disease is. If this can be traced back to the British in any way, they are going to be so screwed. On the western side of the Atlantic, the USA (and other non-red countries) are going to want Canada freed from British control - the danger of disease coming across that big border. In Europe, total embargo on the UK.
Britain doesn't care about its reputation any longer and as long as they get their resources from Canada they can survive.
I am not sure if the US can do anything substantial. Threats of course, but more? Britain is a nuclear power which shoots arrows at Canada and decimates its enemies with biological weapons. Not an enemy you want to start a war with.
I am not sure if the US can do anything substantial. Threats of course, but more? Britain is a nuclear power which shoots arrows at Canada and decimates its enemies with biological weapons. Not an enemy you want to start a war with.
The US and the rest of the world can do quite a lot. Let's recall how many wars and changes in regime took place during the Cold War even though those countries were under the sway of nuclear powers.
Unlike the Cold War, the UK's support states are scattered and (except for Canada) are still controlled under imperialist, colonial structures. IOTL those collapsed everywhere as soon as an example was set, and there's no reason to think popular discontent wouldn't set in in Nigeria et al here.