Mers El Kebir, French North Africa March 29, 1944
USS New York and USS Arkansas had arrived on the morning tide. They had accompanied yet another convoy of flat bottomed landing ships built in Pittsburgh and Indiana and Iowa. The military harbor was almost too full. Warspite, Malaya and Barham had arrived the night before. They were taking on fuel and trading some of their rum and bitter for wine. Lorraine was next to a repair ship. She would be ready for sea in another week if there was no emergency. Her crew could get her to sea, and into combat on a day's notice with perhaps a mild degradation of the secondary fit and a busted condenser.
All along the ports of the Western Mediterranean Sea, Allied naval and landing forces were assembling. Some ports had half a dozen sub-chasers standing down to perform maintenance. Other ports had a dozen destroyers and gunboats going to sea daily for anti-aircraft drills. Cruisers practiced in their new role as fighter direction ships while tens of thousands of men waded through the surf to land on a dozen different beaches from Tripoli to Oran and from Cape Bon to the Gulf of Sagone.
Fighter aircraft wearing a dozen nations' colors scrambled every morning to harrass and occassionally destroy German high speed photo passes. Medium bombers had been seeking out every rail yard within range. Fighter bombers strafed anything with an engine west of Milan. Heavy bombers roamed deep into the underbelly of German industry. Transport aircraft dropped thousands of paratroopers in coordinated practice drops. Black painted transports and old bombers emptied their fuselage of supplies, secret agents, commandos and dummies with firecracker strings attached to their uniforms on a nightly basis.
USS New York and USS Arkansas had arrived on the morning tide. They had accompanied yet another convoy of flat bottomed landing ships built in Pittsburgh and Indiana and Iowa. The military harbor was almost too full. Warspite, Malaya and Barham had arrived the night before. They were taking on fuel and trading some of their rum and bitter for wine. Lorraine was next to a repair ship. She would be ready for sea in another week if there was no emergency. Her crew could get her to sea, and into combat on a day's notice with perhaps a mild degradation of the secondary fit and a busted condenser.
All along the ports of the Western Mediterranean Sea, Allied naval and landing forces were assembling. Some ports had half a dozen sub-chasers standing down to perform maintenance. Other ports had a dozen destroyers and gunboats going to sea daily for anti-aircraft drills. Cruisers practiced in their new role as fighter direction ships while tens of thousands of men waded through the surf to land on a dozen different beaches from Tripoli to Oran and from Cape Bon to the Gulf of Sagone.
Fighter aircraft wearing a dozen nations' colors scrambled every morning to harrass and occassionally destroy German high speed photo passes. Medium bombers had been seeking out every rail yard within range. Fighter bombers strafed anything with an engine west of Milan. Heavy bombers roamed deep into the underbelly of German industry. Transport aircraft dropped thousands of paratroopers in coordinated practice drops. Black painted transports and old bombers emptied their fuselage of supplies, secret agents, commandos and dummies with firecracker strings attached to their uniforms on a nightly basis.
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