Feel the Bearn - A Timeline of France's Only Carrier in WWII and Beyond

This randomly popped into my head but I wonder how Anton Ludwig Friedrich August von Mackensen or August Mackensen is doing, hopefully his chickens are okay.

But the serious question will be if he outlives Germany from seeing it's birth from the Kingdom of Prussia as the North German Federation, then the German Empire to the Wiemar Republic and now the death of the Third Reich.

Mackensen has 6 months otl to live but he can always squeeze a extra few months or years although I have reasons to believe Mackensen will be unhappy to live longer in this dreadful world.

Makensen is 95 years old but by his death he was a month away from 96...
Makensen will be making an appearance.
 
Chapter 12 - Rendezvous
June 18, 1945
10:09AM EST

Tokyo, Japan

Prime Minister Kuniaki Koiso sagged back in horror as he listened to the applause. Of the other members of the Supreme War Council, not all spoke English. But he did, and as Truman continued the ramifications of the Allies policy towards Germany were clear. There can be no peace, he thought with a mixture of alarm and fear. This fight is now joined to the bitter end.

10:10AM EST
Moscow, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
A translator spoke the Russian translation of Truman's speech over the radio as the President continued. "We must not be deterred," said the translator. "Our foes have shown no pity or remorse. Now that will be granted back to them in just punishment."

For many of the various generals and aids who were gathered about in the meeting room, the translator was necessary. But Stalin could understand English, a fact that he had used to his advantage in his dealings with Winston Churchill and Truman's predecessor.

He allowed himself the thinnest of smiles, and allowed his gaze to wander to the situation map of Europe. Countless forces were arrayed across the continent, in positions that three weeks ago seemed unthinkable.

Very soon, he thought.

10:11AM EST
London, United Kingdom
First Lord Brendan Bracken sat at the conference table across from Anthony Eden and Ernest Bevin. Aids rushed about, creating for Bracken the impression of almost being within the center of the whirlwind. For indeed they were. They all were. Prime Minister Churchill lay in the hospital, unconscious and with news of his condition unrevealed.

"Let us be clear," said Harry Truman on the radio at the center of the conference room. "We do envision the day where the descendants of the former Nazi Empire can rejoin the community of nations. A community build upon peace, tolerance, and freedom. But it is clear that this day is not soon at hand, but can only won by the persistence and firmness of America and our Allies."

10:12AM EST
Even though it was a summer day, in the afternoon it felt unusually cool for Ian Fleming. His passengers had remained quiet, spell cast as they listened to the live transmission of President Truman's address.

"This is a most grave course that we embark upon," continued Truman over the radio within the Ford Anglia. "Should we fail, the forces of darkness would descend once more, first upon Europe and then the rest of the world. The love of freedom would be snuffed out forever by the darkness of subjugation. This we cannot allow to stand. As your President, I commit us to a course that would maintain these freedoms. We must not falter. We must endure. Great responsibilities have been placed upon us, and these responsibilities we shall endeavor to meet. I speak with utmost confidence that the American people and the Congress will face these responsibilities squarely."

There was an explosion of applause from the radio. Fleming looked through the rear view mirror to Morgenthau, who had said nothing during the address.

"It sounds as if they went with your plan," said Fleming.

The United States Treasury Secretary did not reply. Whatever this was, he thought, this was far more than his plan.

The applause coming from the radio continued as they approached the town on Tintagel.
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10:14AM EST
Munich, American Zone of Occupation

It was raining heavily, and the almost black skies gave a nightmarish feel to the makeshift office that had been given to the mayor of Munich. Repeated lightning flashes illuminated the tabletop radio, around which was gathered Karl Scharnagl, Karl Meitinger, and several other aides. Their faces were drained of color. The American President's speech was now over, and all that remained to be heard was the cacophonous applause from the gathered representatives of the House and Senate.

And then another noise began to be heard, above the din of the clapping. It could scarcely be made out, but then grew louder. It came not from a single source, but from dozens. And within moments, it seemingly was everywhere.

The two American soldiers who stood guard at the door could hear it too. Each tightened their grips on the weapons they held in hand.

Scharnagl sagged back in his chair as the noise grew ever louder.

They were the guttural cries of those in the ruins of Munich. They had heard the speech too.
 
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Oh god.

This has been one hell of a slow burn but Jesus Stalin, you have weaved Europe right into Moscow's hands with the help of some "friends".

Combined with the Japanese Aero craft R&D departments likely given a new lease of life with the Soviet Union.
 
Chapter 12 - Rendezvous
11:38AM EST
Koblenz, French Zone of Occupation

Caporal Jean Phillipe Martin was lost. And terrified. He had stepped into a deserted, half destroyed bar minutes earlier, his stomach rebelling against the spoiled rations that he had eaten before leaving base to go on patrol. When he had returned the other two members of his group were dead, the downpour of rain mixing with the crimson ebbing from their still forms.

He ran through one narrow street, then another. Although tens of thousands lived in Kolbenz it may have well have been no one. Scarcely a light could be seen, and the only visibility came from lightning flashes overhead. Shadows cast by the streaks of light piercing the sky presented a thousand possible enemies from the rubble that had been pushed to each side of the street. Martin paused, hyper ventilating for a few moments. I must get my bearings, he thought. These are fanatics, no more than a handful that -

That thought ended in a blinding flash that wiped out everything thereafter.

Several seconds later the weathered face of German civilian stood up from behind a non-existent storefront window. The panzerfaust may have been overkill, but one had to use the weapons at hand. He and countless other retired, World War I veterans had been issued such devices as the Allied invasion of Germany had approached. He left his firing position and approached the smoking remnants of his opponent. The lingering fires were quickly doused by the continuing deluge from above.

"You will not take my grandchildren," he said quietly.


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Chapter 12 - Rendezvous
11:55AM EST
Tintagel, United Kingdom

Stuart Adams crouched on the rocky shore of Tintagel Haven. One meter waves crashed onto the beach of the small cove, sweeping salt water past his feet. He looked out at the ocean and sighed. "What are we waiting for?" he asked.

Ian Fleming stood on a rocky outcropping that thrust itself out into the cove, the wind whipping salty mist up and around him. The sun would soon be setting. He scanned the horizon. Still, nothing.

"You'll know it when you see it," he replied.

Further up the beach, away from the surf stood Henry Mogenthau. The Treasury Secretary was unbound, but he did not dare countenance a run for it. It was not an easy trek to this hidden cove, the three of them have descended down a cliff trail before finally ending up in this gray and desolate inlet. The idea of trying to slip away was beyond reason, and based upon the events of the last two days he no longer considered it the most viable of options. Whatever they were waiting for, the British journalist had not said.

Adams felt colder, and realized he was now falling into the shadow of Tintagel Castle. The ancient fortification stood silently overhead, much as it had for so many years. He sniffed. It would be night soon, and they would have to either make camp further away or seek a new destination.

"Commander, I think we should consider leaving for the -"

"There they are!" yelled Fleming. He allowed a small smile to creep across his face for the first time.

A launch boat emerged into view, having rounded the corner of the cove. Fleming waved at them, then hurried off the outcropping.

"A few minutes tardy," he sighed. He then turned to Morgenthau, "But this is our exfiltration from here."

The small launch motored up towards the beach. "Commander Flemming?", asked a sailor at the boat's prow.

"Here!" shouted Fleming back. He turned to Adams and Morgenthau. "Let's go."

Fleming and Adams began wading into the chilly surf, with the Treasury Secretary reluctantly following them. The waves came rolling in, threatening to carry the launch onto the beach and nearly knocking Morgenthau over. Fleming reached out and hooked the older man under the arm, bolstering him up and heading back towards the launch.

A sudden crack was heard, followed by the splash six inches from where Morgenthau had stumbled. The three of them whipped back, and saw that half a dozen uniformed men now standing in the cove. All armed, they began to fire at the fleeing trio.

"Just what I feared!" yelled Fleming. "Hurry!"

The three of them trudged further into the ocean, the launch beckoning ahead. The sailors aboard, their forms not clear in the throbbing surf returned an unsteady fire. The gunmen on the beach took cover behind outcroppings within the cove and shot back.

Panic overtook Morgenthau as he pushed himself forward to what he hoped would be safety. More bullets whistled overhead, this time hitting the prow of the beckoning launch. A sailor aboard was hit and plummeted out of sight. The remaining men shot back again.

The Treasury Secretary glanced backward and saw one of the assailants on the cove grazed in the shoulder and disappear behind the outcropping that Fleming had been standing on only minutes before. He turned to again face the launch, just in time for a wave to smack into his face and send saltwater shooting down his throat. Morgenthau collapsed, trying to cough and losing his balance. The water began to close over his head.

Suddenly strong hands grabbed him by the fabric of his shirt, hauling him up and out of the ocean and into the launch. He curled into a fetal position, coughing reflexively as Adams and Fleming scrambled aboard. Fleming turned to one of the sailors and shouted, "Go!"

The men on the beach still firing at them, the boat quickly reversed itself and headed back out to sea. As they rounded the bend of Tintagel Cove, the gunfire ceased. Morgenthau coughed the last of the saltwater out and tentatively sat up. He looked around at his rescuers. United States Navy. All of them. Several of the men recognized him, and looked at him with amazement.

"You're back from the dead to them," said Fleming.

"I suppose," replied Morgenthau with a shudder. "Where are we going?"

"There, and then home," answered the British Reporter, pointing ahead. About a kilometer away sat an American cruiser.

USS Marblehead.

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The really sick irony is that it’s basically forcing the Germans to resist, which reinforces the need to exterminate the society’s future.

It’s hard to imagine a world where people who literally fought tooth and nail to keep the Red Army away would fly into Stalin’s arms, but you’ve created just such a scenario here. Well played.

The main thing that stretches things is that it’s hard to imagine US political will being persistent enough to so truly crush Germany and take its children like this for an extended time.
 
All,

A quick update. This story is not dead; rather I have simply had to prioritize other items over fictional writing. It will be finished, perhaps slowly, but it will be done.

Meanwhile one item that has bothered me is the rather brief nature of the beginning of the story. Feel the Bearn began as a very short-in-detail timeline. As I wrote it, I eventually shifted into writing it as an actual story. I've taken the liberty to expand the beginning of it today and I'll be doing some of that in the future as well.

Hope that you enjoy!
 
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Chapter 13 - The Marblehead
JUNE 18, 1945 1:35 PM EST
London

Major-General Colin Gubbins held the glass of Ararat brandy in his hand, the receiver of the telephone in the other. Quietly, he placed the receiver down and sat back in his office. He had returned there minutes earlier, following the Prime Minister's transportation to the hospital.

This could be the end, he thought as he starred at the swirling contents of the glass before him. I am to blame.

He shook his head violently. No, it is that traitor, Fleming. Curses coursed through his brain as he recounted the conversation thirty minutes earlier. The turncoat had delivered Henry Morgenthau to a waiting boat, and more importantly he had been brought to an American warship. Gubbins had ordered the ship surveiled, but so far they had remained in a state of radio silence. If the Americans were going to notify their superiors that they had the supposedly dead Secretary of Treasury in hand, they had not done so yet.

And there in lies the opportunity. The thought exploded in his mind, followed by the beginnings of a plan. One that was of the highest risk, he thought. But one that could save the British Empire.

He downed the glass and stood up, a decision having already been made. But first and most importantly, I need the Prime Minister.

Whoever that now may be
.
 

Pangur

Donor
JUNE 18, 1945 1:35 PM EST
London

Major-General Colin Gubbins held the glass of Ararat brandy in his hand, the receiver of the telephone in the other. Quietly, he placed the receiver down and sat back in his office. He had returned there minutes earlier, following the Prime Minister's transportation to the hospital.

This could be the end, he thought as he starred at the swirling contents of the glass before him. I am to blame.

He shook his head violently. No, it is that traitor, Fleming. Curses coursed through his brain as he recounted the conversation thirty minutes earlier. The turncoat had delivered Henry Morgenthau to a waiting boat, and more importantly he had been brought to an American warship. Gubbins had ordered the ship surveiled, but so far they had remained in a state of radio silence. If the Americans were going to notify their superiors that they had the supposedly dead Secretary of Treasury in hand, they had not done so yet.

And there in lies the opportunity. The thought exploded in his mind, followed by the beginnings of a plan. One that was of the highest risk, he thought. But one that could save the British Empire.

He downed the glass and stood up, a decision having already been made. But first and most importantly, I need the Prime Minister.

Whoever that now may be
.
Yippie! the story is back
 
And there in lies the opportunity. The thought exploded in his mind, followed by the beginnings of a plan. One that was of the highest risk, he thought. But one that could save the British Empire.

He downed the glass and stood up, a decision having already been made. But first and most importantly, I need the Prime Minister.

Whoever that now may be
.
What could possibly go wrong?
Great to see this back!
 
And there in lies the opportunity. The thought exploded in his mind, followed by the beginnings of a plan. One that was of the highest risk, he thought. But one that could save the British Empire.
Okay guys as long as that Nightmare that Winston Churchill had of London burning, doesn't turn out to be some kind of premonition of the future that is yet to come, then with total confidence I can say that the British Empire will most definitely saved in the history book of failed Empires.



Great to see this story back Seafort!
 
Chapter 13 - The Marblehead
JUNE 18, 1945 1:35 PM EST
USS Marblehead

Captain Kraker folded his arms as he leaned back against a bulkhead in the officer's mess. It had been cleared out and sealed, leaving himself, Doctor Pritchard, and his three guests. He had seen a lot during this war, but never anything such as this.

"I still cannot believe it," he finally said quietly.

"Believe it, Captain," replied Henry Morgenthau. The Secretary of Treasury had changed out of his dampened, torn clothes and had been given a spare set of clothes. Thomas Prichard, the ship's doctor had examined him and determined that aside for various bruises he simply was suffering from exhaustion. A thick blanket wrapped around his shoulders and holding a cup of coffee, the caffeine kept the fatigue at bay. For the moment. Morgenthau took another sip and said, "I was there. I saw the Prime Minister for himself, and had I not done so I never would have believed such a story to be possible. He is, unwell."

"That he would have ordered the Bearn attacked. My ship attacked! My men!"

"The lives of you and your crew are inconsequential at this point, Captain," came the reply from the other end of the room. Ian Fleming ran his hand through his still wet hair and added. "There is far more at stake for him now. If the world were to know that Churchill had ordered the Bearn attacked first, that the French were merely retaliating it would shatter the Allied Coalition. And if they were to know that he had then ordered the assassinations, the bombings..."

"The British Empire would become the new Reich," added Stuart Adams. He shook his head. "We may all as well all be Nazis in the eyes of the world."

There was silence for several moments. No one spoke as the light cruiser sliced through the waves, the only sound the hum of her engines.

"How many know the truth?" asked Kraker.

"Far less than you might realize," replied Fleming. "Aside from the men in this room, and the crew who have seen us thus far, just Major General Donovan. He pulled the necessary strings to redirect your ship for the pickup at Tintagel. Nobody under him knows yet. Or over him."

The Marblehead's captain sighed. "We cannot remain in a state of isolation indefinitely."

"For now, we must. By now Churchill must know something. Gubbins' men were there to intercept us at Tintagel. But it is a large ocean, Captain. And we are Allies." Fleming groaned, rubbing his shoulders. "No, we must do what your Major General advised. Maintain radio silence until we are at least half way across the Atlantic."

"Will that work?", questioned Kraker.

"The evidence - all of it - is here. It has to."

1:53 PM EST
London

Ernest Bevin was uncomfortable sitting at the Prime Minister's desk. For how long it would remain unoccupied remained uncertain. They had received word that Churchill's condition had stabilized, but his return still more of a matter of it, and less about when. Still, the office within the bunker was almost completely sound proof, and what Major-General Colin Gubbins had just said certainly could not be shared outside the confines of the room and to the participants within. Not that he would have wanted to. The news they had just received could cause an incident, if not an outright panic.

"Are you sure, General?"

"Quite certain," replied Gubbins. "The traitors in this government, we know that not all of them have been rooted out. And perhaps some of them have taken hold within the American government. But that is an issue for another time. Right now, we know with certitude that the Marblehead was lured to within miles of our shores under false pretenses. That the ship was swarmed and boarded. And that the ship's company and crew are now quite dead. The Hun now control that vessel."

"What could possibly be their aim," asked Andrew Cunningham. The First Sea Lord appeared dismissive. "It is an American light cruiser. An old one at that. Do you propose that they intend to shell us?"

"Not with conventional shells. You are aware of the progress German atomic weapons program, sir?"

"There was no progress," dismissed the Sea Lord. "At least nothing that could manifest itself into the weapons that we feared."

Gubbins pulled a folder from his briefcase and handed it to Cunningham. "These are intelligence reports, photographs, and testimony from captured workers on the nature of the Nazi nuclear weapons program. While a bomb was not produced, we do know that they have generated copious amounts of uranium oxide. And therein lies our threat. Per the intelligence that we have received which is in that binder, we believe that the Germans intend to use projectiles that are saturated with these materials. Whether they can hit individual targets with their 150mm cannon is irrelevant. That they can contaminate entire regions is what is pertinent in this situation."

Cunningham clenched his jaw and closed the binder. "How can you be sure that they can retrofit American munitions for such a task?"

"Our intelligence indicates training with American POWs. Perhaps with the help of Japan before German's supposed surrender. Irregardless, this is what they intend to do."

"Dear Lord," gasped Brendan Bracken. "They must be stopped!"

"Indeed," replied Gubbins. "That is why I have requested all of you here. Prime Minister Churchill was aware of this threat, but chose to keep it compartmentalized for the sake of sensitivity in our relations with the Americans. Now, I have no choice but to share it with you all."

He turned and faced that map of the North Atlantic on the wall. "We have one item in our favor," he said quietly. "We know roughly where the Marblehead is. And we do not know for certain that the United Kingdom is the target. There is equal reason to believe that New York may be the intended point of attack."

"We must alert the Americans!" cried Bevins in alarm.

"I would strongly advise against that. The Prime Minister was quite concerned about the effect on our relations with them if such a plan were to reach fruition. As much as we may not wish to admit it, we need American resources and funding. This sort of incident - Germans working in collaboration with British sympathizers might push public opinion away from our Empire at a time that we need their assistance the most."

Gubbins turned to the Sea Lord. "Sir, we know that there is a rogue German submarine still out there. The same one that attacked the Bearn. It is still unaccounted for. Any misfortune that befalls the Marblehead can be attributed to this craft."

Cunningham was silent, staring at the leader of the Special Operations Executive.

"Sir," said Gubbins. "We must do this ourselves. Can we count upon the Royal Navy to execute this task?"

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Pangur

Donor
The British are digging themselves a deeper hole - not clever at all but 100% plausible. Churchill is out of the picture for now and at a guess permanently, yet all of this has taken on a life of its own in the name of hiding what happened.
 
They are almost certainly going to fail.

Unless every member of the crew of the american cruiser are all juggling multiple idiot balls, there is no way in hell for a type XXI submarine to cintercept a Omaha Class that is in a hurry.

The economical cruise speed of the Omaha is higher than the top speed of the submarine.

Given the situation, the least insane choice for the cruiser is to leave at high speed and put as much distance as possible between them and anyone that might want them dead.

The interception of the Bearn worked ITTL because the Bearn :
1) was not that fast to begin with
2) could not go at max speed
3) could not evade even if they saw the torpedoes
4) followed a course that was known in advance with precision

and
5) the sub started from a position allowing an interception

Here with the US cruiser, even if 5 was still true (no reason to believe so), 1 to 4 are NOT.
 
They are almost certainly going to fail.

The sub is sunk I believe. At any rate, the sub is simply going to be blamed for the attack. The RN is going to see to this personally. Ideally this would be by a visit from an RN ship that then torpedoes/guns down Marblehead at short range. However, Marblehead knows that they are coming, so that won't work. She should have enough fuel to return to the US, though not at speed. The best bet is to aim for the nearest US task group. And run at every one of the 35 knots that they can reach.
 

Pangur

Donor
The sub is sunk I believe. At any rate, the sub is simply going to be blamed for the attack. The RN is going to see to this personally. Ideally this would be by a visit from an RN ship that then torpedoes/guns down Marblehead at short range. However, Marblehead knows that they are coming, so that won't work. She should have enough fuel to return to the US, though not at speed. The best bet is to aim for the nearest US task group. And run at every one of the 35 knots that they can reach.
and every man jack of the crew of the RN ship will stay silent ? yeah right
 
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