Keynes' Cruisers Volume 2
- Thread starter fester
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When "the" Chief asks, "Is the (fill in officer rank here and you can go all the way to Admiral if you want) sure that is what he wants to request?" it's NOT really the question being asked and everyone knows it
That's the good ones though and unfortunately dealing with a "bad" Chief is difficult at best.
Randy
So, he's eating as well as he did before the war. Around Lashio, this is an enormous improvement.
He is the kind that will get his Warrant, with just enough time to process it, that he receives his pension at that rate!
Hell, he might be eating slightly better with more animal protein than he typically had.
I never served but I bet if you asked people who did they'd almost all say they'd much rather have a boring day than an exciting one.
I can attest to that. As a student pilot, I had one exciting time. That was enough. It was also the time I discovered the true meaning of IFR. I Follow Roads.
That's the case for battalion and maybe Brigade level QMs.
At higher levels or rear area Commands, they're more anti-scroungers. Poacher turned gamekeeper.
You are certainly not the first person to have employed that method of navigating. When that adage was first coined it often meant "I Follow Railroads."
In the bush high tension transmissions lines served as useful navigation aids especially under a low overcast and other lousy visibility conditions. There was a semi-official rule about flying along the Hydro corridors. Same as driving, keep to the right hand side. Very good idea when you can't see more then a couple of hundred yards ahead.
I would think the GPS navigation aids has greatly reduced the need for that kind of navigating. Especially in the High Arctic where the compasses get unreliable.
Story 2289
Outside of Parma, Italy, October 31, 1943
The riflemen hit the ground. A German machine gun was firing again. Corporal Jaroschek looked around. He narrowed his eyes as steel flew a foot over his head. Even as his eyes sought information for his brain, his rifle was already moving from pointing in front of him to a position to his right. Three more seconds and he had a target. A few more seconds and his loaded clip was now empty as suppressive fire was sent in the general direction of the German hardpoint. The BAR gunner shifted fire slightly and began to send two and three round bursts overhead in the general direction of the now revealed Germans. The LT was yelling for another squad to begin moving to the right and work their way around through cover while his sergeant was already setting up a base of fire. The machine gunners attached to the platoon were hurrying forward.
Within minutes, both machine guns were chattering back at the German. Corporal Jaroshek had found good cover and was sending a few rounds down range whenever he felt like the incoming was not near him. The other riflemen in the squad were copying the actions of their junior NCO as he had been in the shit long enough and often enough and had so far survived. SOme of the men were veterans of Tunisia, and Sicily like him; most of them were veterans of only the occassional sharp rear guard action that the Germans had been setting during the march north of Rome. The rest were replacements who had only come to the platoon in the past five days. One of the replacements was firing in the general direction of the Germans. Another was in excellent cover that was getting deeper every time his entrenching tool struck the hard earth.
The American advance was stalemated for another twenty minutes as the Germans counter-attacked the flanking squad. They too had to take cover and call in for medics. The rest of the company was beginning to flow around the deadlocked platoon and then Jaroshek felt a heavy hand on his shoulder a moment after he displaced from his last firing position. He looked back and saw the forward air controller who had been attached to the company. The LT was quickly taking notes of the situation and a moment later, he left the small depression in the ground and began to crawl back to a miniscule reverse slope. Even as he was moving, all the mortars in the battalion were beginning to walk their way into the target. The goon guns had started to lay down smoke while the 60 and 81 millimeter mortars had sprayed steel shards and high explosives all around the German position .
Twenty one minutes later, a quartet of P-40s swooped down and dropped a single heavy bomb apiece and then strafed the German's rear. Even before the fighters left sight, a platoon of Shermans started to advance. When the metal monsters passed the squad's position, the nine lightly or not at all wounded infantrymen rose and sprinted into the attack.
The riflemen hit the ground. A German machine gun was firing again. Corporal Jaroschek looked around. He narrowed his eyes as steel flew a foot over his head. Even as his eyes sought information for his brain, his rifle was already moving from pointing in front of him to a position to his right. Three more seconds and he had a target. A few more seconds and his loaded clip was now empty as suppressive fire was sent in the general direction of the German hardpoint. The BAR gunner shifted fire slightly and began to send two and three round bursts overhead in the general direction of the now revealed Germans. The LT was yelling for another squad to begin moving to the right and work their way around through cover while his sergeant was already setting up a base of fire. The machine gunners attached to the platoon were hurrying forward.
Within minutes, both machine guns were chattering back at the German. Corporal Jaroshek had found good cover and was sending a few rounds down range whenever he felt like the incoming was not near him. The other riflemen in the squad were copying the actions of their junior NCO as he had been in the shit long enough and often enough and had so far survived. SOme of the men were veterans of Tunisia, and Sicily like him; most of them were veterans of only the occassional sharp rear guard action that the Germans had been setting during the march north of Rome. The rest were replacements who had only come to the platoon in the past five days. One of the replacements was firing in the general direction of the Germans. Another was in excellent cover that was getting deeper every time his entrenching tool struck the hard earth.
The American advance was stalemated for another twenty minutes as the Germans counter-attacked the flanking squad. They too had to take cover and call in for medics. The rest of the company was beginning to flow around the deadlocked platoon and then Jaroshek felt a heavy hand on his shoulder a moment after he displaced from his last firing position. He looked back and saw the forward air controller who had been attached to the company. The LT was quickly taking notes of the situation and a moment later, he left the small depression in the ground and began to crawl back to a miniscule reverse slope. Even as he was moving, all the mortars in the battalion were beginning to walk their way into the target. The goon guns had started to lay down smoke while the 60 and 81 millimeter mortars had sprayed steel shards and high explosives all around the German position .
Twenty one minutes later, a quartet of P-40s swooped down and dropped a single heavy bomb apiece and then strafed the German's rear. Even before the fighters left sight, a platoon of Shermans started to advance. When the metal monsters passed the squad's position, the nine lightly or not at all wounded infantrymen rose and sprinted into the attack.
I hadn't really remembered much about this TL's Italian front - that's a lot further north than OTL, a hell of a lot earlier.
Effectively, the Italians were able to switch sides far more readily in TTL than OTL.
Story 2290
Lemnos, November 1, 1943
The mechanics were checking the first fighters that had landed. Eight were in their revetments already and six of them had either combat damage or maintenance checks. The base firefighters were already entombed in their asbestos coats and sitting by their trucks. The radar operators were controlling the squadron of American flown and British made Spitfires overhead. Twice in the past month, German fighter bombers had flown low and fast to lob bombs onto the crowded runways as the escorting fighters from raids on the Danube Valley were caught unready. The first attack had been mostly harmless, the second had destroyed five Mustangs and damaged another four. Next to the fighter controllers and electronic look-outs for intruders, more operators were looking at their scopes and coaching scarred and scared young men back to base.
By nightfall, fifty seven fighters had returned. Forty eight machines could fly tomorrow morning if needed, and another three would be ready again within three days. Nine machines and their pilots had not returned. At least five were known to have been shot down, and two were suspected to have flown through a flak trap. A fighting pair had made the turn for home and then disappeared somewhere between the target and the airbase. The group had taken heavy losses, but they had succeeded in the mission. Two Liberators had been shot down by fighters while another half dozen had been taken out by flak. Over two hundred heavy bombers had nearly perfect visual drops on the target. The photo-recon Mosquitoes were already seeing good results from visual inspection as their lenses caught the devestation on the ground.
The mechanics were checking the first fighters that had landed. Eight were in their revetments already and six of them had either combat damage or maintenance checks. The base firefighters were already entombed in their asbestos coats and sitting by their trucks. The radar operators were controlling the squadron of American flown and British made Spitfires overhead. Twice in the past month, German fighter bombers had flown low and fast to lob bombs onto the crowded runways as the escorting fighters from raids on the Danube Valley were caught unready. The first attack had been mostly harmless, the second had destroyed five Mustangs and damaged another four. Next to the fighter controllers and electronic look-outs for intruders, more operators were looking at their scopes and coaching scarred and scared young men back to base.
By nightfall, fifty seven fighters had returned. Forty eight machines could fly tomorrow morning if needed, and another three would be ready again within three days. Nine machines and their pilots had not returned. At least five were known to have been shot down, and two were suspected to have flown through a flak trap. A fighting pair had made the turn for home and then disappeared somewhere between the target and the airbase. The group had taken heavy losses, but they had succeeded in the mission. Two Liberators had been shot down by fighters while another half dozen had been taken out by flak. Over two hundred heavy bombers had nearly perfect visual drops on the target. The photo-recon Mosquitoes were already seeing good results from visual inspection as their lenses caught the devestation on the ground.
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