Kings And The Hill

May 12, 1990

Breaking News

This is Dan Rather with a news bulletin. Former Secretary of State John Quincy Hill has died. Hill was said to be in failing health in the nearly two years since his wife Ethel died. He is survived by his three children: Martin, Gertrude, and Harold. He was 75 years old.

President Baker released a statement saying, "Secretary Hill was a dedicated public servant for more than 4 decades. He was a decorated veteran of the Second Civil War, and was the wise old man of American foreign policy for several administrations. I join with the American people in offering my condolences to his family."
 
Details will be forthcoming. What I will say is this is based on the Kaiserreich mod for Hearts of Iron. Albeit with a few changes I've made for story purposes. (in addition to my amusement)
 
August 15, 1923

Colonel Quentin Roosevelt wiped his brow with a handkerchief, before placing it back in his pocket. He glanced over at Major General Wood and wondered how the man could seem so comfortable in the August heat. Leonard Wood was in the process of inspecting the First Pursuit Group's new fighter plane: The Curtis P-1 Hawk.

"These seem to be fine aircraft Colonel", said the General.
"They are indeed Sir. It's a dam-darn shame that we aren't buying more of them", Roosevelt self-corrected.

Leonard Wood turned to face the young aviator. "Son, you had better remember to watch how you talk to people. Some men in Washington would like nothing better then for you to be dishonorably discharged. You're too quick to speak sometimes. You're very much like your Father that way-God rest his soul."

Roosevelt's face tightened as he felt like he was being scolded by his late Father. The General noticed this and sighed. "I can't say you're wrong though. The army's hasn't gotten much funding since congress' last round of cuts. You should count your lucky stars we managed to pry as many as you've got from those misers on Capitol Hill." He shook his head. "You've been put through your paces enough for one day Colonel. Dismissed."

Quentin Roosevelt returned the General's salute and began ordering his men to move the planes back to their hangers. Several hours later he was driving an olive drab Model T towards the rows of housing set aside for officers and their families. He remembered how when he had first arrived at the airfield located near the coast of Lake Michigan, the local brass had given him his own driver. He chuckled as he remembered their expressions as he made a point to drive home himself every night.

He brought the Ford to a stop in front of a brick house and went inside. His Wife-Flora- came to the door to greet him with a kiss.

"How did the General's inspection go?" she asked as she led him into the kitchen.

"He treated me like I was still running around Sagamore Hill in shortpants." Flora put a plate of fried chicken and mashed potatoes in front of her Husband and hugged him from behind.

"I'm Sorry things didn't go the way you had hoped. I do have good news about Ethel though." she said with a smile.

Quentin smirked. "She finally stopped causing trouble?" he asked.

"Heavens no! She's been playing with a doll that arrived today from your cousin Franklin. She just tired herself out a few minutes ago."

Quentin chuckled. "My Father would have taken to her quite nicely. Nothing but energy!"

Flora wagged her finger at her husband. "You need energy. Eat and read your newspaper. We'll talk more after you've eaten." She kissed his forehead and walked away.

Quentin watched his Wife leave the room before opening the copy of The Detroit News and began to read the front page. His brow furrowed. It was just like President Lowden to refuse to offer any military aid to Russia's government. Didn't want to make the German's raise a stink, what with the old world being their domain.

He frowned. If Lenin and his ilk managed to topple Kerensky's government, then it could only bode ill for the future. That the War had gone on so long was in itself a bad omen. His frown grew deeper.
 
Excerpt from Inside the Wilson White house by Thomas R. Marshall: First published in 1925

Far and away the darkest days of my time in office were those around the date of May 7, 1915. The German Empire had been carrying out attacks on Entente flagged shipping by submersible for some time. The sinking of RMS Lusitania was a different matter. More than 100 American lives were lost to an act of modern day piracy. Gone were the days of wooden ships and iron men. This was an act of murder.

For two days the newspapers of the world crowed about this despicable act, and some in the cabinet were advocating war. It was then that a letter written by the German Kaiser was circulated to the press by the German embassy. The Kaiser offered his most sincere apology for the incident, and offered the families of the victims substantial compensation.

This was soon fallowed by a change in Kaiserliche Marine policy. Merchant shipping would no longer be attacked without a warning. These measures were enough to lower the drumbeat of war in the American people.

The Kaiser kept his word over the coming years. Who could guess what would have transpired had he not done so.
 
The original POD was that the Lusitania was not sunk by the Germans, but here we have something quite interesting. Kaiser Billy behaving in a quite sensible way. That's newto me :D
 
June 2, 1923

"MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!"

The German infantry company ran for the cover of several low stone walls at on the outside of the village. Johann Strauss didn't know the name of this village (or any of the previous few he had fought thorugh on the road to Arkhangelsk), but the Bolsheviks had been fighting more and more like the devil was at their back as the closed on the port. More likely Commissars then devils he guessed.

Johann chambered another round in his Mauser and took a sip of warm water from his canteen. He hadn't thought that the German expeditionary force would still be in Russia after two years. Kerensky's government was hanging by a thread after the end of the Weltkrieg. He didn't care much about the troubles of the Russian's, but nobody in Berlin fancied a Bavarian soldier's opinion.

Several Soviet inspired terrorist attacks within Germany had been enough to convince the Kaiser to prop up the Russian Republic. All of these thoughts went through his head in the blink of an eye as three soldiers hunkered behind an overturned tractor were suddenly blown away by a grenade.

"Gott im Himmil!" he exclaimed. Those were good men who were just killed: Hans had just joined the unit when they shipped out and was barely old enough to shave, Martin was the greatest poker player in the entire division and an incredible braggart, and while he had no great affection for Adolf, the man had won an Iron Cross in France.

With a guttural cry Johann and his men charged the Russian position to avenge the deaths of their kameraden. 'After all' he thought cynically, 'what was one more man's face in the graveyard inside his head.'
 
July 1, 1923

Chancellor Ludendorff sat behind his desk in the Reich Chancellery reading a series of dispatches from Russia. Following the fall of Arkhangelsk (And the discovery of Lenin's body) the Bolshevik revolution was effectively dead. The Four Divisions sent to Russia could begin preparing to return home after two years of hard fighting. General Von Seeckt would most likely receive his baton for bringing the communists to heel.

That would certainly please Kaiser Wilhelm II. He was almost killed in an assassination attempt two years before. Had that Luxemburg woman had better aim... It did not bear thinking about. At any rate, she wasn't in a position for a second attempt.

Things had certainly gone well for the young man who saw to that. Luftwaffe pilot Hermann Göring was lauded by the Kaiser and was about to be named Governor of the German Kongo. Slightly young for the job; but between his Father having been Governor of German Southwest Africa, and saving the Kaiser's life: that could be overlooked.
 
January 3, 1924

John Quincy Hill hated France. He had been living in Paris with his Father for two years since he was confirmed as United States Ambassador to that country. Being pulled out of school and sent across the Atlantic would be a change for anyone, let alone a nine year old. He missed his friends. He missed his Mother-now six years dead. Most of all, he missed his own language. He couldn't say any of this to his Father. Especially not during dinner with some French government stooge.

"As I said to President Millerand, the position of the United States government is final." said Harold Hill before taking a sip of Cabernet.

The Frenchman put down his fork and steepled his fingers. "Monsieur Hill," he began, "France is at a crossroad. Our economy has been a shambles since the end of the war. The damn Bosche have all but bankrupted us. We need this loan to stay afloat, and your government is no longer willing to extend credit! We are drowning!" he seethed.

John looked at his Father and could see that his face would give nothing away. Harold Hill never became visibly angry. He became unnaturally quiet and introspective until he thought of just the right response. It was one of many things that created a distance between the elder and younger Hill.

As Harold was about to respond, the wall behind them blew inward with an almighty bang. John was thrown from his chair and slammed into the wall. When he regained consciousness he was in the back of a speeding car with his Father, who had a terrible gash on his forehead.

"Father?" he croaked, "What...?"

Harold Hill continued to look forward. "God Damn anarchists!" he exclaimed.

John brought his head up to look through the windshield of the car. Flames shot into the sky from several parts of Paris. He had seconds to see several men in red armbands setting fire to a storefront, before the car sped past. To his dying breath, John would swear he never heard the bullet that came through the window that killed his Father. However, he did hear the sound of his own horrified shrieks.

Paris burned around him.
 
This is good stuff.
Was that who I think it was that got popped by the nade?

Gefreiter Adolf Hitler served in the 16th Bavarian Reserve Regiment, and won the Iron Cross while serving in France as a dispatch runner, an honor rarely bestowed on a man of his low rank. Ironically, the recommendation which secured him the medal was filed by an officer named Hugo Gutmann, who was a German Jew.
 
Excerpt from Operation Magic Carpet by John F. Kennedy: First published in 1948

Operation Magic Carpet was (among other things) the USS Langley's first deployment. However it was not one of war, but a rescue and retrieval mission. As the situation in France was spiraling out of control, most countries had begun pulling its diplomatic personnel from the country. The United States sent a task force centered around The Langley to transport the body of the late ambassador, as well as his family and staff. They were brought by lighter out of Calais to the ships. They were brought aboard the USS President Buchanan and brought to New York City on January 29, 1924. This would add to the Langley's reputation as a support ship that exemplified the US Navy's prewar carrier doctrine.
 
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