Keynes' Cruisers Volume 2
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If the Western Allies end up on the outskirts of Berlin first I would imagine the German army surrendering, or soldiers deserting in larger numbers and the fight not being anything like what the Soviets had to deal with. A possible coup in the bunker?
More of them then did when presented with the Russians? Sure. But the SS, particularly the foreign SS units, know the only thing awaiting them regardless who takes the city is a rope.
If they get lucky, they can find a home in the Foreign Legion. A bunch of SS types did volunteer IOTL.
I think it was more a case of "volunteer" or we will really look into your wartime activities. I read a book by a U boat captain who ended up at Dien Bien Phu as a result of being "volunteered" for the legion, he was pretty clear he didn't get much choice in the matter.
Not the same story, but “The Damned Die Hard” has a couple of stories about ex-Germans fighting in the Legion in SE Asia.
IF it's the book I'm thinking of, they were mostly ex-SS. And formed a long range penetration group to disrupt Viet Minh supplies.
No. It was a while ago back about 25-30 years ago. I read it when I was unemployed and got it from the local library, I also suspect it is out of print which makes it a bugger to find, I know I've been looking.
George Robert Elford: The Devil's Guard (1971). I read it many years ago. It is an extremely dubious "historical" source.
Martin Windrow: The Last Valley - Dien Bien Phu and the French Defeat in Vietnam (2004) is a brilliant book on what the title says, and much else. There may have been a fair few of these people initially in the FFL, but:
Orion pb ed 2005: Windrow uses as a source Douglas Porch: The French Foreign Legion - A Complete History(1991), ch 25 passim.
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Story 2608
Haiphong, Occupied French Indochina, September 29, 1944
The laborers flattened themselves amid the rice sacks. They had been working since dawn lugging rice sacks up a trio of gangways to fill the hold of a three thousand ton coal burning merchant vessel. They had first stopped for a brief meal two hours into their shift. And now there were several dozen four engine bombers overhead, they were waiting for the bombs to fall. A few antiaircraft batteries were throwing shells into the air but the weight of fire was too light to deter the Free French and Royal Air Force pilots from holding straight and level before their bomb bays opened and each aircraft suddenly became four to six tons lighter.
The laborers waited for the bombs to finish exploding. Across the harbor, a pair of Japanese patrol boats had disappeared. Most of the bombs landed in a district that had few factories nor warehouses. There was a small Japanese garrison building that was smashed along with hundreds of other structures. Soon the whistle was blown and the work resumed loading a ship that would, sooner rather than later, attempt to run a gauntlet of mines, submarines, destroyers and medium bombers along the Chinese Coast until the straits of Formosa. Once there, it would become part of a convoy that would head to the Home Islands.
The laborers flattened themselves amid the rice sacks. They had been working since dawn lugging rice sacks up a trio of gangways to fill the hold of a three thousand ton coal burning merchant vessel. They had first stopped for a brief meal two hours into their shift. And now there were several dozen four engine bombers overhead, they were waiting for the bombs to fall. A few antiaircraft batteries were throwing shells into the air but the weight of fire was too light to deter the Free French and Royal Air Force pilots from holding straight and level before their bomb bays opened and each aircraft suddenly became four to six tons lighter.
The laborers waited for the bombs to finish exploding. Across the harbor, a pair of Japanese patrol boats had disappeared. Most of the bombs landed in a district that had few factories nor warehouses. There was a small Japanese garrison building that was smashed along with hundreds of other structures. Soon the whistle was blown and the work resumed loading a ship that would, sooner rather than later, attempt to run a gauntlet of mines, submarines, destroyers and medium bombers along the Chinese Coast until the straits of Formosa. Once there, it would become part of a convoy that would head to the Home Islands.
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Story 2609
Norfolk, Virginia September 30, 1944
The Navy Yard was busy. It was not quite as busy as it was before the invasion of Southern France where most of a Corps shipped out from a variety of James River docks. But it was still busy as tens of thousands of workers built ships, repaired weather damage, and made sure that almost ready warships and merchant ships had enough fuel and food to go to sea again. The dry dock was empty for the first time in months. The gates had been opened last night and a cruiser was now tied up along one of the many piers extending into Hampton Roads where several hundred yard workers and most of her crew were still validating the major repairs, making upgrades to her radar and reworking her antiaircraft fit.
Half a dozen tugboats nudged the French battleship Jean Bart into the dry dock. She had been stripped down to a parts hulk over the past two years. She had been savaged to keep Richelieu, Strasbourg and Dunkerque in operation. Now she would be restored to at least the point that she could safely make the journey to Toulon in the spring of 1945 where the French government could make a decision as to what to do to one of their four major capital assets. She would go there without her main battery, but the secondaries would be modern American 5"/54s of the newest type along with dozens of Bofors for antiaircraft defense.
The Navy Yard was busy. It was not quite as busy as it was before the invasion of Southern France where most of a Corps shipped out from a variety of James River docks. But it was still busy as tens of thousands of workers built ships, repaired weather damage, and made sure that almost ready warships and merchant ships had enough fuel and food to go to sea again. The dry dock was empty for the first time in months. The gates had been opened last night and a cruiser was now tied up along one of the many piers extending into Hampton Roads where several hundred yard workers and most of her crew were still validating the major repairs, making upgrades to her radar and reworking her antiaircraft fit.
Half a dozen tugboats nudged the French battleship Jean Bart into the dry dock. She had been stripped down to a parts hulk over the past two years. She had been savaged to keep Richelieu, Strasbourg and Dunkerque in operation. Now she would be restored to at least the point that she could safely make the journey to Toulon in the spring of 1945 where the French government could make a decision as to what to do to one of their four major capital assets. She would go there without her main battery, but the secondaries would be modern American 5"/54s of the newest type along with dozens of Bofors for antiaircraft defense.
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Kyoto is inland. If Kansai region was destination, they should either head to Kobe or Osaka.
Story 2610
Western Pacific, October 1, 1944
The carrier's engines were thrumming along at only a fraction of the rated horsepower. Most of the crew as asleep as they had been on flight operations for the past three days. Buried underneath the flight deck a Marine officer inventoried the remaining paperwork. Josh stretched his hands. There were, thankfully, no letters that needed to be written. But a fighter squadron ran as much on paper, ink and triplication as high octane gasoline and heavy fifty caliber slugs. A few forms needed to be completed immediately. Two machines were downchecked for the next day or so, and another would probably be available by mid-afternoon if the squadron scroungers could get the right part from the carrier's stores. If the part was not available, that aircraft would become a squadron hanger queen until it had either been stripped of anything useful, it could be craned off the carrier or the needed parts could be sourced from the fleet train.
He sighed as this work, even the short amount of critical work that he decided that he had to do would take at least another two hours and a cup of coffee. At least tomorrow he was not on the flight schedule until late afternoon.
The carrier's engines were thrumming along at only a fraction of the rated horsepower. Most of the crew as asleep as they had been on flight operations for the past three days. Buried underneath the flight deck a Marine officer inventoried the remaining paperwork. Josh stretched his hands. There were, thankfully, no letters that needed to be written. But a fighter squadron ran as much on paper, ink and triplication as high octane gasoline and heavy fifty caliber slugs. A few forms needed to be completed immediately. Two machines were downchecked for the next day or so, and another would probably be available by mid-afternoon if the squadron scroungers could get the right part from the carrier's stores. If the part was not available, that aircraft would become a squadron hanger queen until it had either been stripped of anything useful, it could be craned off the carrier or the needed parts could be sourced from the fleet train.
He sighed as this work, even the short amount of critical work that he decided that he had to do would take at least another two hours and a cup of coffee. At least tomorrow he was not on the flight schedule until late afternoon.
Story 2611
Warsaw, October 2, 1944
The young woman did something she had rarely done in the past five years.
She smiled without inhibition.
She smiled without hesitation.
She smiled without performance nor expectation.
The long, hard rod of steel in her hand was the source of her pleasure, with a pleasant weight at the end away from the barrel hole. She had waited so long and could barely wait to see how she could operate an improvised Sten gun. Only half a dozen girls that she had met through her cell were armed with anything more modern than a revolver. Many of the young men in the cell had a Sten, a few had anti-tank rifles and PIATs that had been air dropped by Free Polish transport squadrons operating from Italy. But now she had a weapon. She caressed it like it was her lover's chest and her head jerked forward as the cell leader handed her five loaded magazines.
A few minutes later, the newly armed squad was receiving instructions on how to load and unload their weapons, how to clear jams, and how to counter-act the tendency of the submachine guns to jerk around when on full automatic fire. Her frame was her constraint. She was not strong enough to fire more than a two or three round burst, she that is what she would do once the call to arms had been sounded. The rumors throughout the city had made it abundantly clear that liberation was on the way with Soviet Armies in Belarus and British Imperial armies to the south. Sooner or later, the nightmare of occupation would end, and when the city woke, they would wake with violence and determination.
The young woman did something she had rarely done in the past five years.
She smiled without inhibition.
She smiled without hesitation.
She smiled without performance nor expectation.
The long, hard rod of steel in her hand was the source of her pleasure, with a pleasant weight at the end away from the barrel hole. She had waited so long and could barely wait to see how she could operate an improvised Sten gun. Only half a dozen girls that she had met through her cell were armed with anything more modern than a revolver. Many of the young men in the cell had a Sten, a few had anti-tank rifles and PIATs that had been air dropped by Free Polish transport squadrons operating from Italy. But now she had a weapon. She caressed it like it was her lover's chest and her head jerked forward as the cell leader handed her five loaded magazines.
A few minutes later, the newly armed squad was receiving instructions on how to load and unload their weapons, how to clear jams, and how to counter-act the tendency of the submachine guns to jerk around when on full automatic fire. Her frame was her constraint. She was not strong enough to fire more than a two or three round burst, she that is what she would do once the call to arms had been sounded. The rumors throughout the city had made it abundantly clear that liberation was on the way with Soviet Armies in Belarus and British Imperial armies to the south. Sooner or later, the nightmare of occupation would end, and when the city woke, they would wake with violence and determination.
Talk about a bait-and-switch--reminds me of the scene in Hot Shots! Part Deux where it turns out that the two female leads were talking about bungee-jumping...
NotBigBrother
Monthly Donor
There is no a bait-and-switch in a story about a young woman happily smiling and holding something long and hard that is ready to sputter out when she'll hold it tight.
OTL's started on 1 August 1944. This is indicative of the slightly better German performance in the East, no doubt partly caused by the more limited African and Mediterranean commitments.
Kanal (Andrzej Wajda's brilliant 1956 movie about the uprising) is really worth seeing. It's the middle of a trilogy, between A Generation and Ashes and Diamonds.
Slightly better German performance in the East, as well as the Red Army's Summer Offensive targeted at destroying the German armies in the Ukraine rather than Belarussia as BAGRATION did OTL.
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