Quasi-War VII - The First Big One

Chapter 14: A new kind of war, a new kind of leader

February 1918

Hakodate


"...we shall defend this island, we shall defend the beaches, we shall defend shores, we shall defend..."

Corporal Adolf Polzl's English had improved a great deal. Even the Austrian conceded that Governor Churchill's speech was rousing. Though young, Polzl knew charisma when he saw it and Churchill had it in spades. Almost against his will, the Detroit tough allowed the New Yorker's odd accent to draw him in. By the end of the speech, even Polzl felt the stirrings of patriotism.

Of course that passed quickly. The Austrian-born Detroiter had long since given up such sentimental nonsense. He merely wanted to see out his time in the army and return to Chicago where Ulyanov better damned well keep his promises for rewarding his right hand man for his services. Only a few years remained on his sentence. He'd hoped to spend them in the casinos of Salt Lake City but that didn't appear likely at the moment. Defending the beaches of Hokkaido against four hundred million Chinamen?

Not overly profitable.

Yerba Buena Army Base

"Hot damn, we got us a war!"

George Patton's cry initiated a surge of officer's attempting to emulate his enthusiasm. For his part, Colonel Joseph Doroteo could not summon the joy. A great deal of en were about to die and the US Armored Cavalry, built at such expense, would no doubt be at the forefront of it all. Indeed, Doroteo proved quite correct. When General Jack Pershing was dispatched to command the American Armies in the Pacific, the first units he demanded from the President were his cherished Armored Cavalry.

By March, the first of the American tank units were en route to Hokkaido, though they would not stay there for long. A rocky island was not the ideal setting for armored tanks (as they were now routinely called). However, the vast expanses of Manchuria? Yes, that would do quite well.

Army Air Signal Corps - Topeka Kansas

Lieutenant Quentin Roosevelt never felt so at peace as when he was in the air. His Stout 1918 was a work of art. Never before had the twenty-one year old felt such a firm yet flexible frame. The engine, a Dodge, was first rate. Only the damned machine guns kept the plane from performing as well as the British or French offerings. Why the hell was that so damned hard?!

But at least it would be a quick fix. When he returned to land (always too soon), Roosevelt learned of the declaration of war. Already the pilots of his squad were volunteering for Pacific Service. Desiring to escape his father's long shadow, Roosevelt did the same.
 
I've been a bit busy these past couple of weeks but I'll try to post a few short chapters a week. The time I have had has been spent on my Pastry War timeline.
 
So I know Doroteo is Pancho Villa, but I can never not picture Inigo Montoya whenever he's mentioned. I have no idea why.
 
I've been caught up with moving recently and only had time for my Pastry War series. Why I have 3 series going on at once, I have no idea.

Quasi-War 7 is still in the early stages too.
 
Chapter 15: Dragging oneself up from the mat

March 14th, 1918

Off the coast of Hokkaido


Lieutenant Commander Tomas Montoya skimmed the letter from home. No doubt when his father wrote the message, war had not yet been declared. Indeed, the entire message was regarding yet another of Montoya's siblings having married into a Creole family. Two more nieces and a second cousin had been born. The family had purchased yet another 300 acres. The sailor assumed that his father must own half of Louisiana by now. The farm (he honestly had not idea the extent of the holdings, it must be more than 4000 prime acres by now) was doing well. As opposed to many Louisianans whom stuck with labor intensive sugar or cotton, the Montoyas filled a profitable niche as a stud farm for horses, mules, donkeys, oxen, etc. The need was always there and father rarely had to hire overly much in the way of help given his god-awful number of children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews, grand-nephews and grand-nieces.

Indeed, father even purchased one of those new Fordson tractors and a Ford truck (being among the first in the county to possess them) to help with the hay and grain harvest. Tomas imagined himself toiling under the Louisiana heat and was oddly grateful to be at war in Asia.

The letter had been sitting in his bunk for weeks, forgotten after the embarrassing defeat (one could only call it that) incurred upon the proud American fleet by a handful of Chinese torpedo boats and submersibles. Montoya shook his head as he left his bunk and headed to the bridge. He was officer of the watch and no doubt YET ANOTHER drill was scheduled for the afternoon.

In an additional humiliation, the British in advertently heaped more misery upon the American sailors. When two British heavy cruisers, one light cruiser and three destroyers arrived off the coast of Hokkaido to join the larger American force, the newfound allies shared their unpleasant experiences with the Chinese. The British eyes bulged upon learning of the dismal American display against the Chinese submersibles and torpedo boats. It had long been suspected that America was late to the party in terms of both material and tactics. One British officer bluntly deemed the American order of battle "incompetent". It was difficult to deny. The British provided their tactical handbook for maneuvers in the age of such pesky menaces and it became apparent at once that they were right. The Americans had completely mis-utilized their destroyers, allowing easy access to the heavier American ships (that was the point of destroyers). Worse, it was pointed out that the American destroyers had the worse depth charge system in the world. When the Americans requested if the British might deliver their own system (it had been quickly ascertained that, once again, the British system was inordinately superior in every way), the irritated Brits pointed out that half a dozen systems had, in fact, been delivered over four months ago to Hakodate where they had been sitting in some warehouse the entire time.

A small supply ship was immediately dispatched to Hakodate to pick up the depth charge systems and deliver them to fleet at a preset rendezvous. Only after the supply ship arrived did it occur to anyone that they should have picked up the 300 depth charges themselves that were similarly sitting in the warehouse. As the British alternated with hysterical laughter and hair-pulling frustration (how the hell did THESE people win independence from Britain?), the supply ship was duly sent back. The British, considerately, offered the half-dozen American destroyers 150 of their own weapons to grant the Americans some opportunity to familiarize themselves with the system.

For weeks, the American ships sailed off the coast of Hokkaido, fearful of returning to harbor and desperately working on joint maneuvers with the British ships. Word arrived of the inevitable. The British pseudo-colony of Kyushu was facing a blockade. The enemy's location was now known.

After the embarrassed American fleet belatedly received their depth charges, they joined the British in sailing south to redeem themselves.

Chicago

Frank "the Barber" Nitto knew he was pushing his luck with Ulyanov. Expanding one's business was one thing. Expanding it at the expense of Ulyanov was quite another.

As it was, Nitto felt obliged to bring in some outside talent to Chicago, namely some of his old friends from New Orleans, where the Sicilians ruled. A half-dozen good gunmen were brought up.

A showdown was inevitable. At least Ulyanov's best gunman, Polzl, was still in the joint (or the army, whatever). That gave Nitto a chance when the peace inevitably fell.
 
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