Protect and Survive: A Timeline

Discussion in 'Alternate History Discussion: After 1900' started by Macragge1, Aug 20, 2010.

  1. JN1 No longer has the Lurgy

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    It wasn't my decision. The side admins had to do that after a massive hacking attack which followed regular spamming attacks which posted porn.
     
  2. Macragge1 Banned

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    XX - Silent Hedges

    The beautiful downgrade/ Going to hell again/ Going to hell again.

    Following the Exchange, Britain found itself facing a new, silent threat - starvation. Indeed, the brutality of the authorities' response to the attacks stemmed largely from a fear of losing order and succumbing utterly to this threat. These fears were not unfounded; the British Isles are now on the verge of the worst famine since the fourteenth century.

    In the weeks immediately following the end of the world, Britain has been rapidly depleting her central stockpiles of food. Under the control, nominally, of the Ministry of Agriculture, Fisheries and Food (Emergency Division) and, in reality, the British Army, these buffer depots - grey, nondescript buildings filling space on industrial estates - soon became the most important real estate in the country. From these centres shipments of corned beef, boiled sweets, sugar, butter, margarine and sundries (including some of the MAFF's 1.4 million plastic bowls) are moved to feeding centres across their region. It is perhaps telling that the movements of these essentials (in civilian vehicles manned by soldiers) are soon undertaken using the same Standard Operating Procedures drawn up for the pre-war transportation of nuclear weaponry. Those involved in each movement are given only thirty minutes' prior warning - there is no schedule to be followed. The route is changed each time (though, due to the damage to infrastructure, there are few variations available) and movements usually take place at night. Each convoy can expect an escort, when available, of up to one hundred soldiers preceding and following it in lorries or civilian buses. Those convoys seen to be passing through a more dangerous area - an area, for example, that has already seen attacks on food movements or the authorities in general, may be allocated light armoured support or, in exceedingly rare cases, a scout helicopter courtesy of the Air Despatch Wing.

    The depot serving the North East Region is located in the once sleepy town of Wooler, deep in the wilds of Northern Northumberland. The warehouse, owned in theory by the Newcastle Warehousing Co. Ltd. , has the best part of a small battalion (around 400 men) assigned to defending the warehouse and any movement issued from it.

    Here, and across the country, the warehouses are starting to look empty.

    CHANTICLEER is becoming increasingly worried, not only by these dwindling stockpiles, but also by the immense difficulties that have been encountered in restarting agricultural activity. A good portion of Britain's arable land is poisoned - many of the military targets hit during the exchange (radar stations, airfields and the like) were located in the countryside. Within one year, estimates are that only 0.001% of initial radioactivity will persist. We do not have one year. Although farmers were supposed to get their livestock under cover once the air-attack warning was sounded, the obvious practical concerns meant that this didn't really happen anywhere. Therefore, in the blighted areas, poisoned sheep and cattle drank poisoned water until finally expiring in silence and pain.

    In terms of grain storage, the 'best' time for a nuclear war would have been some time in October, just after the harvest had been taken in. At this point, there would have been some 12 million tons of grain in silos and stockpiles across the country. Unfortunately, with the war coming in February, supplies were just skimming around four million tons. Around a quarter of these vital stockpiles were immolated during the exchange.

    It is clear, given these grim statistics, that more food must be produced as soon as possible. Perplexingly, no large-scale planning for this was undertaken pre-war, save for the proviso that Britain should 'promote a reorientation towards subsistence agriculture growing towards subsistence agriculture growing more food crops, particularly cereals'. There are several obstacles. British agriculture has long since relied not only on near -complete mechanisation, but also on complex mixes of pesticides and fertilisers in order to operate. With fuel now extremely scarce, and agricultural chemicals a very finite commodity (the vast majority of British agrochemicals were bought from West Germany), the country will regress to, at best, early Industrial methods of farming. Another problem is the huge demographic shift that has been occuring since the bombs came. With their food supplies having dwindled (even those who managed to overcome empty shelves and obtained the fourteen-day stockpile recommended by the Protect and Survive films) those in the countryside flocked towards the cities. This was common sense. All the work, and by extension, the food, was tied to the initial reconstruction efforts in urban areas. For the first time since the Black Death, whole villages - even some smaller market towns - became literal ghost towns. The experience, for those who found themselves travelling through, was akin to boarding the Marie Celeste. Most of these 'travellers' were small bands of looters, picking through freezing houses for what little had been left by the departed.

    This phenomenon led to those remaining in rural settlements forming their own militia (the military had far too much on its plate to provide security to every hamlet and village in its area) in order to combat the threat from looters. Of course, these local defence organisations (often, without a shade of irony, termed the 'Neighbourhood Watch') are rarely above 'requisition' from other nearby villages, leading to a steady undercurrent of nasty little melees amid country pubs and award-winning village greens. The sky is far from the only grey area in the Britain of 1984.

    From a thousand wounds/ Faults of civilisation/ Going to hell again

    Once plans for the agricultural restart had been passed down by CHANTICLEER, it proved one of many logistical nightmares just to get 'volunteers' back to the countryside. Haphazard record keeping (combined with obfuscation from rural refugees who had no desire to leave the relative security of the cities) meant that it was near impossible to divine who to send back to the countryside. Thereby, 'volunteers' were simply chosen at random from the labour pool and given until the next morning to prepare to move. The mechanics of moving these at best sullen and, at worst, seditious citizens out into the wilderness proved another headache for the security forces. More than once, civilian coach drivers were overwhelmed as their passengers attempted to return to the cities. More than once, the soldiers assigned to the convoys were forced to shoot to kill. This included a particularly ugly incident near Truro where a dozen escapees were machine-gunned trying to wade a stream having bludgeoned the driver of their transport into a near-fatal coma.

    Whilst their reaction was extreme, it is understandable that said refugees were reluctant to move. Without modern technology, emergency agriculture will bring new meaning to the term 'back breaking'. Tractors and the like are only brought out in order to tackle what can't be accomplished by hand. Traction engines make something of a comeback, where available, given the availability of coal as compared with petrol or diesel. Though this is slow, dirty, noisy work, it is a luxury compared with the norm. Even draught horses and such are rare, given the lack of feed - most working horses are being held back for breeding rather than risk them in the fields. As was the case during the Great War, a horses' life is now quite a bit more valuable than a human's.

    Further afield, CHANTICLEER is distracted by some interesting developments in Scandinavia. Contact has been established with what purports to be the Swedish Government. Untouched besides a near-miss that wiped out the eastern half of her capital, the committed neutral claims to have two full Vulcan crews safely interred at an unnamed location. The location of the two aircraft, presumably damaged during the attack phase of the war, is not disclosed. The Swedish promise the safe return of the airmen in exchange for all available intelligence on the Baltic and Finland. Whitelaw tentatively...

    *

    'Thomas' and the rest of the control train are closing the distance, the noise swelling from a dull rumble to a roar. The Librarian remains focused, the scratched lens of her binoculars following the locomotive onto the bridge.

    'Bang.'

    Only it doesn't, and the train moves into the distance unhindered. For a moment, the Librarian is motionless, unable to process the failure. Then a lump of ice in her stomach. Weeks of planning, weeks of pain. Scheming and backstabbing and degradation in order to get the explosives. All for nothing. Nothing.

    Still, it would have been really stupid not to come up with a Plan B, thinks the Librarian, as she wipes the twigs and dirt from her knees and elbows and picks up her rifle.

    *

    'Hello, Sultan, this is Saracen Three-One-Niner, are you recieving, over?'

    The Canberra was screaming across the moonscape, occasionally jinking to avoid a hill or one of the few charred buildings that stuck out like smashed teeth.

    'Saracen Three-One-Niner, this is Sultan...we are recieving you but the signal is bad...speak up...over'

    'Err...Sultan, we've seen movement on the ground here, about...fifteen miles south of Hanover.'

    '...'

    'Sultan, are you still recieving, over'

    'Saracen, what type of movement do you think you saw? Over'

    'It was people. We saw some people'

    'Saracen, this is Sultan. Say again your last, over'

    'Sultan this is Saracen' - almost shouting down the radio - 'We saw people. Alive. Moving around. Search Area 'Chelsea'. Over'

    '...'

    'Sultan?'

    'Saracen...are you sure, over?'

    'Sultan, we are flying at treetop height. Can make out license plates and street signs. We saw people. Over'

    '...'

    'Saracen, this is Sultan. Do you have film? Over'

    'Sultan, this is Saracen. Half a reel, over''

    A new voice

    'Saracen One-Three-Niner, I need film of your survivors. Do you understand? Over'

    'We understand, Sultan'

    'Saracen One-Three-Niner, we are trying to get through to the French or Swiss, but they are not going to send men into somewhere that hot based on hearsay. Switch your cameras on. Over'

    'Sultan, this is Saracen One-Three-Niner' - the old jet banks hard to port, back towards the sighting - 'we are returning to search area 'Chelsea', cameras are rolling. Saracen One-Three-Niner out'

    *

    Oblivious to the close call that it has avoided, the Mobile Control Train rattles through Morpeth. It was here that the planned stop was to take place, and a small army contingent, combined with local representatives were extremely surprised when 'Thomas' failed to stop. For security reasons, the train stopped instead down the line at Pegswood. More a platform and a couple of benches, the Controller is met here by the Lieutenant and the twenty men he came with a couple of days ago. For security reasons. Even the Controller isn't quite sure who he's trying to keep in the dark anymore.

    *

    After half an hour's drive, the Controller's contingent and the Lieutenant's men arrive back at Morpeth. The Mayor and the soldiers that had been waiting at the station, despite having been radioed about the change of plan (after the fact, of course) are doing surprisingly little to hide their terseness.

    'Well, sir, the first item of business was to show you around the town itself. Of course, we'll have to skip this in order to stay on schedule, so we'll head straight out into the countryside and have a look at the agricultural efforts, shall we?'

    'Whatever you say.' - the Controller is rising above the Mayor's peevish tone.

    *

    The Controller is thankful for his wellington boots as he steps out onto the muddy verge.

    'As you can see, Controller, we're utilising as much land as is feasible' - the Mayor gestures over into a field busy with workers. It could be a scene from a thousand years ago, if one ignored the tracksuits and the plastic bags. Even further off in the distance, the Controller could make out a traction engine trundling through the brush.

    'Where does one go about getting one of those?'

    'An enthusiast, Controller. He...didn't have any need for it anymore',

    'I see.' replies the Controller, regretting having asked.

    The Mayor clears his throat - 'Ahem - shall we walk down to that farmhouse? Theres' a reception prepared.'

    'Lead the way, Mr Mayor' - the Controller forces a smile.'

    *

    The Volunteer digs and furrows until he can dig no more. He takes his rest as soon as the mounted soldier directing this operation is well away in a distant field. He sits and sweats at the big back wheel of an equally exhausted traction engine. His eyes can't stop darting towards the filthy sports bag he keeps by his side.

    He soon disappears into his own thoughts. He is jolted back onto Planet Earth when a woman in a tattered greatcoat sits at his side.

    'What a waste of fucking time!'

    'Hang on - it didn't work?'

    'Did it fuck.'

    The Volunteer takes a long, deep sigh.

    'Wait a moment. That means he's here.'

    'Suppose so.' replies the Librarian. They don't know who gave them all this intelligence - so many within the army in particular deeply resented the Controller, and most of Morpeth hated their Mayor.

    'Right...right. Get the Neighbourhood Watch together. We'll do it in an hour'

    'An hour!?'

    'We're not going to get all of the bastards in one place again. This is a gift - we go in, we get them, we use them... it's a gift'

    *

    'And so if you'll step in here, you'll see that we've provided some refreshments...'

    The Controller looks around the dining room and bites his tongue. There's more food here than he's seen since... since what seems like forever. Various roast animals, all the trimmings...pastries, - starters, for heaven's sake. There's cakes, jellies - even the Controller's been on army ration packs for the last two weeks. He is immediately uncomfortable. Other than him, the Mayor and a couple of other 'dignitaries', there's no-one else at this banquet.

    'Well, this all looks...this is...'

    'It's marvellous isn't it? Don't you know there's a war on? Sometimes I don't!' - the Mayor laughs heartily.

    The Constable, the Lieutenant and a few police and soldiers file in and take positions around the room.

    Both the Lieutenant and the Constable are well aware of the fact that they're scowling, but not massively inclined to do anything about it.

    'Oh, Controller - there's rations for your boys in the barn'

    The Controller is silent. He turns to the Lieutenant and shoots him an apologetic look.

    The boys in green and blue file out. The Constable barely hides his opinion of the Mayor in a well-timed cough.

    'So as you can see, Controller.' - the Mayor gestures around the lavish room - 'we're doing an excellent job up here. In fact, I think I shall be so bold as to propose a toast. To reconstruction!'

    The Mayor holds up a glass of - inexplicably - champagne. As he holds it aloft, it starts to shake - little trembles at first. Now it's bouncing, and soon it's spilling out of the glass, which drops to the ground.

    'What on Earth?'

    Before the Controller can reply, the whole back wall of the living room dissapears in a roar of masonry and a whoosh of steam. Shouting.

    The front half of a traction engine, wheezing as if in agony, replaces the wall. Through the entry wound, a dozen or so skinny, ragged figures train old, old weaponry on the stunned party guests.

    'RIGHT YOU FUCKERS! HANDS ON YOUR HEADS!'

    Hesitation.

    'NOW!' The Librarian fires a shot into the air, smashing a chandelier.

    The Controller complies - one hand on his head, at least. Only the Mayor refuses.

    'Now what the Hell do you think you are playing at?' - the Mayor, drunk on shock and champagne, prods his finger into the Volunteer's chest.

    'PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!'

    'Answer me! Who the hell do you think you are?'

    'PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS UP! NOW!'

    '-the nerve to come barging in here'

    'GET YOUR FUCKING-' The Librarian raises her gun and blows the Mayor away - 'FUCK!' - The Volunteer turns round, face sprayed with blood.

    'He was a spare.' Calmly, the Librarian brushes her hair back behind her ear and moves up towards the Controller.

    'You're coming with us. Maybe you'll end up useful after all'

    'Well...I mean...' the Controller spies shapes in a mirror that's somehow survived the ruckus - '...there's no need to be unreasonable - after all -'

    The Controller dives onto the ground. Behind him, the policemen and soldiers open fire, cutting down one of the Neighbourhood Watch. The others sprint back out of the farmhouse, and begin firing from behind a nearby wall. Two policemen grab the Controller and pull him to safety as the rest of the group begin firing and maneuvering towards the retreating attackers.

    The Lieutenant raises his SLR and fires a couple of rounds at the fleeing shapes. A window smashing above him forces his head down. The attackers are covering their own retreat. The sick feeling flashes through the Lieutenant's mind and throat - someone's training them; no doubt one of the Officer's men who couldn't stomach taking orders from the Controller. 'Goddamnit!' - he raises his rifle - BANG BANG BANG.

    The Constable runs past the Lieutenant and fires his revolver towards the treeline. A couple of soldiers run past him. They hit the ground behind some bales of hay and start shooting towards the shifting shapes.

    'Constable!' the Lieutenant shouts - ' Get to that trough! I'll cover you! Go!'

    This is it, thinks the Constable as he vaults the wall...
     
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  3. JN1 No longer has the Lurgy

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    Yea, MAFF plastic bowls! A real Cold War icon that! :D
    We need to see soyer boilers next.

    Frankly I've no sympathy for the Mayor considering how much food everybody else it getting.
     
    Last edited: Jun 2, 2011
  4. ivfl Well-Known Member

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    Feb 3, 2011
    Kinda weird the swedes are in contact with Great Britain but seem to know very little about their neighbours.Finding out about Finland would involve basically tuning in to finnish radio.At the worst they could ask swedish border guards or send a swedish ship towards Finland and report back.The only logical explanation is that Finland is gone,whatever remains of the finnish authorities having fled to who knows what bunker.The attack on Stockholm probably killed over 200 thousand in the immediate aftermath,tens of thousands would have died due to burns and radiation sickness in the following weeks.Non-fatal injuries are probably about equal to the number of dead excluding persons blinded by the flash.Following such a strike most surviving residents would likely have fled to other regions,radiation fears unfounded or not driving them away.Untouched is a bit on the light side.Somewhat weird that the lucky ones are in this situation.
     
  5. Lemon flavoured British Miami Dolphins fan

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    Awesome update. For some rather odd reason the librarian is reminding me of me ex girlfriend.
     
  6. Macragge1 Banned

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    Glad you liked it! The bowls thing is just one of so many mad things you realise when you look into the plans; we were prepared enough to make a million and a half party bowls but apparently skimmed over any long-term plans for putting food in them.

    Yeah,the Mayor was a dick - unfortunately for him, he was also very poor at hiding this trait, right up until the end.

    You're right in saying that the Swedes could turn on the radio/send a ship to check out Finland and the Baltic, and of course they have done this and are pursuing this avenue of exploration. The view though - and it's perhaps an optimistic one - is that a relative big player like Britain will have satellite imagery, targetting data and so on for these areas that it was unable to give to a non-NATO neutral during the combat; it's hoped that this information could save the Swedes time, and perhaps more importantly, lives and equipment that would otherwise be risked heading into nominally hostile and heavily irradiated territory.

    'Untouched' is of course, very subjective in this case - those living in eastern Stockholm or the other poor souls burnt or blinded by the blast are unlikely to feel so blessed. In comparison with other, similar size countries, however, Sweden has done quite well.


    Glad you enjoyed it; that the Librarian reminds you of an ex seems somewhat... unsettling... given what we've seen her do, but hey, what the hell!
     
  7. JN1 No longer has the Lurgy

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    Making a million and a half plastic bowls is easy and probably cheap. They also have the great advantage of lasting almost litterly for ever.
    OTOH food is not so easy to store, apart from some things like the ones you mentioned. It goes off, it takes up room, it's expensive and so on and so forth.

    During the TTW phase it was intended that the government take over food stocks of the big supermarkets for post-strike use. I think there was also an implicit assumption that it was pointless to stockpile food for 55 million people if 20, or 30 million of them would be dead within 18 months of a strike.

    Btw I'm now the proud owner of a copy of the Emergency Planning Guidance to Local Authorities. I've already spotted a couple of Home Office porkie pies. :D
     
  8. Lemon flavoured British Miami Dolphins fan

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    Well, I can completely imagine my ex behaving like that if needed lol.
     
  9. JN1 No longer has the Lurgy

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    Your ex sounds...how shall I put it...interesting. :D
     
  10. Lemon flavoured British Miami Dolphins fan

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    Yeah, she is, in the Chinese sense lol. The other fictional character(s) she reminds me of is a cross between Susan and Adora Belle Dearhart from the Discworld novels.
     
  11. DrakonFin Operator Donor

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    I have been away from AH.com for a while, but I had to come back to see what's happening. Glad to see this TL is still going strong, you are doing an excellent job as always Macragge.

    About Sweden and Finland: they were engaged in pretty extensive secret cooperation in the 80s, and had - for example - plans for building a joint defense of the Åland Islands in time of war. Hence, I think the Finnish and Swedish militaries would have the means to communicate between each other also below the governmental level. I am thinking especially about the naval forces near Stockholm on the Swedish side and around Åland and on the Archipelago Sea on the Finnish side.

    After the exchange, the surviving Swedish and Finnish naval and air units in this area would certainly try to communicate with each other and to determine the extent of damage on the mainland. Even if the main population centres like Turku, Rauma, Pori, Vaasa etc. on the Finnish west coast and navy bases like Pansio (near Turku) are hit, there would be some surviving Finnish ships out, presumably maintaining some sort of "neutrality patrols" (and/or ostensibly upholding FCMA Treaty responsibilities towards the USSR) and some of these would seek to contact the Swedish Navy especially if they only find ruins when returning to the Finnish coast.

    The exchange took place in the winter, and the Finnish coast will likely be icebound until April: thus we are talking only about those ships with at least some icebreaking capabilities - icebreakers, larger merchant ships pressed into service during the emergency, the larger Finnish Navy ships like the Turunmaa class corvettes or the minelayers. Quite likely the civilian ships coming from the south / the Swedish coast to Finland have already been running in escorted convoys before the exchange: even during normal winters icebreakers and cargo ships travel in convoy-like formations out of necessity (like last winter), now they would have been escorted by Finnish and Swedish navy ships, in turn.

    If all major centers in Finland have been hit (the capital area, Turku, Tampere, Oulu, Rovaniemi, etc.), the best bet for finding at least some surviving Finnish authorities would be the western countryside in southern Pohjanmaa (Bothnia), say in a small parish south of Vaasa or Seinäjoki. This is the traditional area for evacuating parliament members and government notables, given its good connections (rail and sea) and distance to the eastern border (and the strategic targets along it). It would also be very reachable by Swedish navy and air units.
     
  12. BrianD From OTL or ATL depending on your perspective

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    Free Kentucky
    Excellent update.

    Perhaps Whitelaw - besides asking Sweden for some of its food reserves in exchange for the intel and airmen - has his people working on plans for population control?

    Specifically, having enough people to perform agricultural (and other) work, while targeting a certain percentage of people to starve.

    Cruel and inhuman, without a doubt. At this point, post-exchange, survival is top priority...and I'd imagine numerous options that none of the leaders pre-war would even consider are being planned out.
     
  13. ivfl Well-Known Member

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    One problem for the finns is that any surviving soviet citizens would likely have fled over the border.While Leningrad would have been nuked perhaps 20-30% of the population would have survived of these maybe half would have fled towards Finland.Most survivors while unaware of what the rest of the USSR looked like would have been smart enough to assume there are only ruins so they would run towards the nearest safe place or presumed safe place.
    Considering the small size of Finlands population combined with the loss of Helsinki and maybe several other cities, in the coming years russian speakers may end up even a majority in many places.Of course the finns won't look to kindly at russian refugees and some inevitable clashes are to be expected.
     
  14. DrakonFin Operator Donor

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    I sort of disagree with the idea of a huge influx of Soviet refugees into Finland in the near future, mainly on geographical grounds. North of the Ladoga, the Finno-Soviet border is mostly wilderness; more, it is wilderness with a lot of closed military areas on the Soviet side. Considering that the bigger centres, like Murmansk or Arkhangelsk, are important targets, the population post-exchange would be pretty low here.

    South of the Ladoga, there is the Isthmus, also with military targets, and the radiating field of rubble that was just recently Leningrad. Any Soviet refugees from outside the Isthmus (part of which has been likely evacuated in the early days of the war) and the city itself would have to wander through the destroyed Leningrad area on their way to SE Finland. I think this would present an obstacle of sorts, at least in the short run.

    But certainly if there is no cohesive (national or local) government to (try to) maintain order, eastern Finland would be, in time, a chaos of civilian refugees and armed groups of men from both sides and the national border would become a legal fiction. Some of this future balance hinges on the level of Finnish mobilization at the time of the exchange: can any local Finnish groups or armed units (or "units") offer a counter to the Soviet (ex)military or civilian groups present here, as well as on the actions of Sweden and other governments / forces active in the Baltic area.
     
  15. modelcitizen note2self, no ranting ninjas

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    an update!

    I'm not ready to read it yet.

    preparing myself :D
     
  16. Macragge1 Banned

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    You're quite right. Another problem was that the emergency stocks kept getting depleted during the seventies when we were doing a passable impression of a second world country. Tate and Lyle sugar, for example, was released from war stocks during a 1975 shortage.

    Apparently pilferage was another low level problem involved with storing these foodstuffs - one can only assume most casual stealers of Mars bars would think twice once the army rocked up.

    Oh my; are they trying to pass anything on the 'fallout-is-actually-really-noisy' level of misinformation?

    Thinking about it, I've realised that the subconscious basis for the Librarian is probably the girl character in 'If...' (which is a fantastic film); certainly, I've got the 'Neighbourhood Watch' visualised similarly to the 'Crusaders' on the roof at the end of the film - [​IMG]

    And somehow that's the best shot I can find online, but oh well.

    Glad to see you're still enjoying it, and thanks for the kind words.

    Thanks also for the information on all the Scandinavian stuff; it's one of my many blind-spots, and stuff like this will make keeping the story going all the easier.

    Similar here; I basically rely on bluffing hard and fast and hoping whoever is marking just doesn't care. I've been using the same fake historian as reference since A-Levels; it seems no-one ever checks.

    Glad you liked the update!

    Thanks!

    There's going to have to be an element of 'expediency' in order to keep the country from the brink; the only real certainty is that it's unlikely to be a pleasant process.

    Yeah, I was going to put something like this. Leningrad, Murmansk and all the towns in that sort of area were amongst the most targetted places on earth - we'd hit them more than once, and then the Americans would hit them a few times as well. Far from a 20-30% survival rate, I'd think that anything north of 5% in these areas would be very optimistic.


    Interestingly, though I put two good-sized atomic bombs on Newcastle in this timeline, I've still not managed to do as much damage as Geordie Shore, which must be testament to MTV's awesome, terrible power.
     
  17. Falkenburg CMII & Bar Donor

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    A (slightly) better If... shot.

    [​IMG]

    Hey at least they're both armed. ;)

    Falkenburg
     
  18. Unknown Member

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    Corpus Christi, TX
    Studying the fallout patterns in the U.S., East Texas (again, under the assumption that the Beaumont-Port Arthur-Orange area is still intact) appears to avoid the heaviest fallout (from the Midwest, although cold fronts may have a hand in bringing this to Texas), and most of the blasts in East Texas are probable airbursts over Dallas-Fort Worth, Marshall, Lufkin, Houston, and Galveston.

    OTOH, they are going to have a heck (understatement) of a refugee crisis, because there is a probable partial evacuation of the DFW, Austin, San Antonio, and Houston-Galveston areas between the time of the first exchange and the final exchange.

    Assuming both of them weren't killed in Austin (75/25 shot that one or both die in the exchange) the governor (Mark White in OTL) and/or lieutenant governor (William Hobby, Jr.) is going to have a lot of disaster to handle (Bryan-College Station is probably the acting captial, since it is in a relatively central locaton in East Texas, and Texas A & M is nearby).

    (Rick Perry is in Haskell County (probably) in 1984, which in this TL is still standing, but gets Abilene's refugees. Assuming he wasn't in a city that got hit.)
     
  19. JN1 No longer has the Lurgy

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    Tut, tut, that's not the right way to hold a Sten gun. Fire it like that and it'll be uncontroleable.
    I must be more conservative than I thought because at the end of If I found myself sympathising more with the Establishment figures and their ideas of responsibility and duty. It could be argued that the end scene is a fantasty; after all remember the scene when the chaplain is in the headmaster's drawer after they've shot him? :D

    Need to double check the EPGLA again, but there was a bit about not being able to predict targets. I thought yeah, we don't know what was in the minds of Soviet targeteers, but we could make an educated guess. :p
     
  20. Dan ...Not that I remember, as I was quite drunk!

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    A slightly less civilised part of the Fens
    A particularly bloke-ish response now but...

    She's cute enough to be allowed to hold the Sten any way she likes. lol :p