Stupid Luck and Happenstance, Thread III
- Thread starter Peabody-Martini
- Start date
It is always nice to get a slice of life update from Anne as in this timeline is being narrated from unreliable POVs she is the most cleared eye of them.
I have come to the conclusion that this timeline real theme is the families we have and the ones we make.
For Kat having her Aunt Marcella and Uncle Klaus as her surrogate parents to Maria being her cool older "sister" and Emil as the totally " Chill BIL", Grand Duchess Jahane going from protectee to Cousin Gia to younger sister shows us that evolution Kat has made in who she sees as her family beyond the ties of blood.
Anne is giving us a realistic look at the Sisterhood and how no one is guaranteed a happy ending but because of Kat they have a better shot at it.
I have always liked how Kat had Anne and Nancy around the Sisterhood to show the Sisterhood that others will accept them for who they are and how the Sisterhood included them in.
By the way if Anne has told her publishers about how she has been keeping a diary all these years with Kat being a prominent part of it expect to see dump trucks of money showing up at her front door.
I have come to the conclusion that this timeline real theme is the families we have and the ones we make.
For Kat having her Aunt Marcella and Uncle Klaus as her surrogate parents to Maria being her cool older "sister" and Emil as the totally " Chill BIL", Grand Duchess Jahane going from protectee to Cousin Gia to younger sister shows us that evolution Kat has made in who she sees as her family beyond the ties of blood.
Anne is giving us a realistic look at the Sisterhood and how no one is guaranteed a happy ending but because of Kat they have a better shot at it.
I have always liked how Kat had Anne and Nancy around the Sisterhood to show the Sisterhood that others will accept them for who they are and how the Sisterhood included them in.
By the way if Anne has told her publishers about how she has been keeping a diary all these years with Kat being a prominent part of it expect to see dump trucks of money showing up at her front door.
A lot of what is in the volumes of her diary are deeply personal and she would horrified of anyone else reading them. Like in OTL the diary will have to be published posthumously.
Or maybe not. Kat does have a certain reputation, after all. Besides, after the diary incident back in the day, I don't think that Anne would let slip to anyone that her diaries might include tidbits about Kat. In fact, I wouldn't surprised to learn that Anne stores her diaries in an extremely secure office space, in a filing system designed to incinerate the contents if not opened in the correct manner. She might even write them on flash paper. Just in case.
While Kat has had a few protégés over the years, few of them have risen to the same heights. Lea Bäcker, Kristina von Preussen and Sigi Grimmelshausen are examples. However there is a hurdle that exists here. Most women who volunteered for the Armed Services are in logistical and support positions, while there is a serious bias towards higher Command Posts being filled by Officers with Field Experience that would be difficult for them to get. There are also considerations that were alluded to in the last post with Kiki.
I should have made it clear that it was posted before that Anne was told by Leni that her diary would be a best seller and Leni offered to help edit them , Anne refused because they were her personal thoughts and feelings and they were not to be shared with the public.
I was trying to point out that Anne could have told her publishers in a general way that she kept a diary that is now in to several volumes and it would be her publishers who would realize the potential market for them because of the people around her life.
This also shows that I am nowhere the writer that I think I am.
Part 120, Chapter 2006
Chapter Two Thousand Six
25th July 1970
Near Los Grutas, Rio Negro Province, Argentina
After two days on the road, some fifteen hundred kilometers, finally reaching the destination was a relief. The unrelenting sameness of the Patagonian Steppe which National Route 3 ran through was punishing. Even the occasional sight of the Atlantic Ocean, which was always to their right did little to break up the monotony. Turning off the road, the Iltis rolled across first railroad tracks and then a cattle guard onto a dirt track.
“How big is this place?” Manfred heard Christian ask over the radio, he was in the other Iltis that was trailing them.
“This is one small corner of it” Manfred replied, “The estate is the roughly the size of Saxony, and the Don’s interests extend down the coast. I would say that you have probably driven across land that he owns in the Santa Cruz Province.”
Manfred heard Christian give a low whistle. El Coronel Don Martzel Asier Ibarra was incredibly rich by anyone’s standards, the land was just a small part of it. There were several mostly legal operations in the countryside that were pouring money into his coffers. The briefing that the BND had given him before they had left Rio Gallegos had been informative filling in a lot of details that he had not known about the man. Having been recruited by Abwehr back in the 30’s, Martzel had been involved with the covert side of the Spanish and Soviet Wars. Somewhere along the way, Martzel had gotten rich, retired to his native Argentina at a relatively young age and come with an impressive résumé from his time in German service. Just the fact that the Argentine Government had given him an Army Officer’s Commission and allowed him to carve out his own kingdom in Patagonia spoke volumes.
They continued north according to the compass for a considerable period of time. Looking out into the distance, Manfred couldn’t imagine what this place would be like during the summertime, flat, hot, and brown as opposed to flat, cold and brown he supposed. They crossed a low range of hills and to Manfred’s amazement, there were trees growing in the wide valley they were dropping down into. They passed through a tiny village that wasn’t even on the map and turned to drive west along the river. Manfred realized that this place probably existed entirely because Martzel wanted it here and it was a planned community, shades of Feudalism.
“Rook to Gold Three, can we get a status update?” Manfred heard a voice crackling with static and the strange distortion caused by the Command Net encoder say. It was all he could do not to tell Rook to fuck off.
“Mission is proceeding as planned” Manfred said, “We are nearing the Casa now.”
Even as he said it, Manfred saw the Casa coming into view. It looked more like a fortress than a house. It was clearly designed to be both functionable as well as defensible. The first question Manfred might have asked was if that was necessary. When he had a chance to think about it though, he realized that if there was trouble out here, they couldn’t just call the police.
“Thank you Gold Three, I’ll pass that on to the Prospector, Rook out” Rook said, and that channel went dead.
As the Commander of this operation, Manfred was given wide latitude in how he went about doing it. However, the Brass liked to be appraised of what was going on. That was where Rook came in and he was a miserable bastard. Leaning back in his seat, Manfred made an obscene gesture at the sky and it was his hope that Rook got a good look. Maus saw what Manfred had done and started laughing.
Driving through the gates of the Casa, Manfred stepped out of the Iltis. After sitting all day in the passenger seat his legs felt rubbery, much to his annoyance. Taking off his helmet, he strode towards the doors of the main building. He got quite a greeting when the door opened. Christian was walking a pace behind Manfred, and he heard him mutter “What the fuck?” The House Staff were lined up in the entry hall. Martzel stood on the front staircase with his wife.
“Welcome to the Casa Graf von Mischner” Martzel said with a smile.
“I think you have me confused with my father” Manfred replied.
Martzel just shrugged. “You are a long way from Berlin, so no one here cares” He said before looking at Christian, “Just who is this?”
“Unterfeldwebel Weise” Manfred replied, “The Leader of the Squad that accompanied me.”
“Very well” Martzel said, “Tell him that he and the rest of your men are my guests tonight.”
Christian was standing right there so Manfred didn’t need to say a word. He wondered what Martzel was playing at with this show. A minute later, he followed Martzel into the Salón and the Staff scattered the instant Martzel’s back was turned.
“We have a meal planned for this evening that will be a treat for you” Martzel said.
“I am not this important” Manfred replied, “If the Oberstlieutent were here I could understand it, not me.”
“You’re a German Dragoon Teniente Primero in Patagonia” Martzel said, “That makes you more important than you realize.”
“Perhaps” Manfred said.
“That also makes you privy to the plans of your Government in Rio Gallegos.”
As soon as Martzel said that, Manfred knew what the game was. He was getting pumped for information in this place where Martzel basically was the State.
“We had been considering winning over the local people in the Far South by providing them with Medical and Educational opportunities” Manfred said.
“That is a load of bullshit” Martzel said, his entire attitude changing. “Where do the guns come in?”
“I have no idea what you are talking about” Manfred replied.
“Perhaps you are out of the loop, but I find that unlikely” Martzel said, “Allende and his attack dog Pinochet are running out of options. So, everyone expects them to start a short, victorious war to keep from getting overthrown.
“What does that have to do with weapons?”
“Those are my people you are attempting to win over” Martzel said, “They know if there is a war, they are living what will be one of the battlefields and that Buenos Aires doesn’t give a shit about them.”
That was something that Manfred had not considered.
25th July 1970
Near Los Grutas, Rio Negro Province, Argentina
After two days on the road, some fifteen hundred kilometers, finally reaching the destination was a relief. The unrelenting sameness of the Patagonian Steppe which National Route 3 ran through was punishing. Even the occasional sight of the Atlantic Ocean, which was always to their right did little to break up the monotony. Turning off the road, the Iltis rolled across first railroad tracks and then a cattle guard onto a dirt track.
“How big is this place?” Manfred heard Christian ask over the radio, he was in the other Iltis that was trailing them.
“This is one small corner of it” Manfred replied, “The estate is the roughly the size of Saxony, and the Don’s interests extend down the coast. I would say that you have probably driven across land that he owns in the Santa Cruz Province.”
Manfred heard Christian give a low whistle. El Coronel Don Martzel Asier Ibarra was incredibly rich by anyone’s standards, the land was just a small part of it. There were several mostly legal operations in the countryside that were pouring money into his coffers. The briefing that the BND had given him before they had left Rio Gallegos had been informative filling in a lot of details that he had not known about the man. Having been recruited by Abwehr back in the 30’s, Martzel had been involved with the covert side of the Spanish and Soviet Wars. Somewhere along the way, Martzel had gotten rich, retired to his native Argentina at a relatively young age and come with an impressive résumé from his time in German service. Just the fact that the Argentine Government had given him an Army Officer’s Commission and allowed him to carve out his own kingdom in Patagonia spoke volumes.
They continued north according to the compass for a considerable period of time. Looking out into the distance, Manfred couldn’t imagine what this place would be like during the summertime, flat, hot, and brown as opposed to flat, cold and brown he supposed. They crossed a low range of hills and to Manfred’s amazement, there were trees growing in the wide valley they were dropping down into. They passed through a tiny village that wasn’t even on the map and turned to drive west along the river. Manfred realized that this place probably existed entirely because Martzel wanted it here and it was a planned community, shades of Feudalism.
“Rook to Gold Three, can we get a status update?” Manfred heard a voice crackling with static and the strange distortion caused by the Command Net encoder say. It was all he could do not to tell Rook to fuck off.
“Mission is proceeding as planned” Manfred said, “We are nearing the Casa now.”
Even as he said it, Manfred saw the Casa coming into view. It looked more like a fortress than a house. It was clearly designed to be both functionable as well as defensible. The first question Manfred might have asked was if that was necessary. When he had a chance to think about it though, he realized that if there was trouble out here, they couldn’t just call the police.
“Thank you Gold Three, I’ll pass that on to the Prospector, Rook out” Rook said, and that channel went dead.
As the Commander of this operation, Manfred was given wide latitude in how he went about doing it. However, the Brass liked to be appraised of what was going on. That was where Rook came in and he was a miserable bastard. Leaning back in his seat, Manfred made an obscene gesture at the sky and it was his hope that Rook got a good look. Maus saw what Manfred had done and started laughing.
Driving through the gates of the Casa, Manfred stepped out of the Iltis. After sitting all day in the passenger seat his legs felt rubbery, much to his annoyance. Taking off his helmet, he strode towards the doors of the main building. He got quite a greeting when the door opened. Christian was walking a pace behind Manfred, and he heard him mutter “What the fuck?” The House Staff were lined up in the entry hall. Martzel stood on the front staircase with his wife.
“Welcome to the Casa Graf von Mischner” Martzel said with a smile.
“I think you have me confused with my father” Manfred replied.
Martzel just shrugged. “You are a long way from Berlin, so no one here cares” He said before looking at Christian, “Just who is this?”
“Unterfeldwebel Weise” Manfred replied, “The Leader of the Squad that accompanied me.”
“Very well” Martzel said, “Tell him that he and the rest of your men are my guests tonight.”
Christian was standing right there so Manfred didn’t need to say a word. He wondered what Martzel was playing at with this show. A minute later, he followed Martzel into the Salón and the Staff scattered the instant Martzel’s back was turned.
“We have a meal planned for this evening that will be a treat for you” Martzel said.
“I am not this important” Manfred replied, “If the Oberstlieutent were here I could understand it, not me.”
“You’re a German Dragoon Teniente Primero in Patagonia” Martzel said, “That makes you more important than you realize.”
“Perhaps” Manfred said.
“That also makes you privy to the plans of your Government in Rio Gallegos.”
As soon as Martzel said that, Manfred knew what the game was. He was getting pumped for information in this place where Martzel basically was the State.
“We had been considering winning over the local people in the Far South by providing them with Medical and Educational opportunities” Manfred said.
“That is a load of bullshit” Martzel said, his entire attitude changing. “Where do the guns come in?”
“I have no idea what you are talking about” Manfred replied.
“Perhaps you are out of the loop, but I find that unlikely” Martzel said, “Allende and his attack dog Pinochet are running out of options. So, everyone expects them to start a short, victorious war to keep from getting overthrown.
“What does that have to do with weapons?”
“Those are my people you are attempting to win over” Martzel said, “They know if there is a war, they are living what will be one of the battlefields and that Buenos Aires doesn’t give a shit about them.”
That was something that Manfred had not considered.
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Ah, the pseudo morality argument with a dosage of practical reality.
Medical Supplies and education can only go so far - and can only foster actual goodwill, but, when people are literally willing to fight and die, and also willing to kill in order to get what they believe is a better future, medical supplies and education mean diddly squat.
Eh, come in with the idea of arming them as a likelihood, but being to dump med supplies ASAP, spend some time "training the trainers," on basic field medic craft so more allies can at least help keep themselves alive. Yeah, the weapons will get there, but try to increase competence whenever possible. Especially in a way that prints its own PR.
How much does Manfred know about who Martzel is actually and what he has been involved with? Given his connections with Schutz and Kat's family, I would think that Manfred would have some kind of briefing from the Adwer before this happened to keep him in the loop and make sure he was able to find out is Martzel was still on their side. Martzel might think he is seeing a ghost when he saw Christian and might talk to him further to try and find out information.
We are now in a timeline where Salvador Allende and Augusto Pinochet are allies, it does make sense while Allende is most likely isn't a Marxist ITTL he still has the same ambitions that he did IOTL the question is what direction is it going to take.
For Gen. Pinochet having a limited war against Argentina over disputed territory is right up his alley and would support any government that would carry out any such plans and operations.
With no East- West Cold War, no Castro in Cuba ITTL the United States has far less influence in the area and since Argentina is firmly allied with Germany Chile sees the United States as mostly as a weapon supplier with some American advisors thrown in but otherwise it is not consulting Washington D.C. on it's plans.
For Gen. Pinochet having a limited war against Argentina over disputed territory is right up his alley and would support any government that would carry out any such plans and operations.
With no East- West Cold War, no Castro in Cuba ITTL the United States has far less influence in the area and since Argentina is firmly allied with Germany Chile sees the United States as mostly as a weapon supplier with some American advisors thrown in but otherwise it is not consulting Washington D.C. on it's plans.
He isn't. What he is, is a politician who has painted himself into a corner.
Which is never a good thing. Such a person is much more likely to bring down the house attempting to succeed rather than backing down and retiring from the field gracefully (assuming such an option even exists).
"What this country needs is a short, victorious war to stem the tide of revolution."
V.K. Plehve, Russian Minister of the Interior to General A.N. Kuropatkin, Minister of War, on the eve of the Russo-Japanese War
"The belief in the possibility of a short decisive war appears to be one of the most ancient and dangerous of human illusions."
Robert Wilson Lynd
Part 120, Chapter 2007
Chapter Two Thousand Seven
29th July 1970
Comodoro Rivadavia, Chubut Province, Argentina
After a few days spent as guests of Coronel Ibarra and the relative paradise that was his house on the banks of the Rio Negro, the long drive back to Rio Gallegos had been something that no one had been looking forward to. All they needed to do was to look at a map to see why, they had driven nearly two thirds of the way across this country. Parked in the parade ground of the Argentine Army garrison, Christian could see that the Commander was apparently less than thrilled to see them back so soon.
The trip north had been productive. Manny had told Christian that he had been able to secure agreements regarding the provisioning of the 7th Recon with the Coronel. That would simplify things immensely and it meant that they would have better food in the Mess Hall. Manny had also told him that his many of his suggestions about what to do about the locals down in Santa Cruz Province had come up almost immediately. Just he had not told Christian which suggestions though he didn’t need too many guesses to figure out what might have been said.
When Christian had returned from the patrol that had taken him to Rio Turbio they had spoken at length. He’d told Manny that if the balloon went up, they would be in a world of shit with a scattered civilian population and an iffy logistical situation. It had been that last part that had prompted Manny to make a call to Rook, asking if there was anyone in Patagonia who was trusted by the German Army. Coronel Ibarra, who Manny’s Aunt Katherine vouched for, had been the first name mentioned. As for what to do about the civilians, Christian had suggested that they ask for volunteers along the lines of the Landwehr Corps they had encountered in Galicia a couple years earlier. Christian had seen how effective farmers could be with old bolt-action rifles could be if they knew the land they were fighting on. Manny had pointed out that was an idea that had several problems. The next step was obvious, once they had an army of irregulars the question would be whether or not they armed them, and Buenos Aires would probably be furious regardless of what happened. As far as they were concerned, a Mestizo with a rifle was a revolutionary regardless of context. Christian had seen how the Gauchos he had met typically carried knives and he had no doubt that they knew how to use them. Still, they weren’t stupid, and they knew that if they got caught between two armies, they would get ground to paste if they couldn’t defend themselves.
Past that, Christian had seen how even things like teaching basic literacy or offering medical services would probably go a long way here. If they really wanted to win the locals over, they would get a team of Veterinarians to Argentina. Dogs, horses, and sheep were all highly regarded in the parts of rural Argentina that Christian had seen.
“We got Rook on the Command Net” Ralf said from the back seat, “What do you want me to tell him?”
Christian knew that it wouldn’t do him any good to bite Ralf’s head off over Rook calling. No one wanted to deal with the High Command’s messenger boy who called every few hours asking what was going on after they had made his acquaintance when he had been assigned to them a couple weeks earlier. There were rumors that he could see them where they were, but Christian found that a bit implausible.
Plugging his headphones into the main radio, Christian keyed the microphone. “What do you want Funker Oberst?” He asked.
“You are not supposed to call me that Gold Three” Rook said indignantly, “Radio protocol.”
“I don’t care” Christian replied, he was tired, and he didn’t feel like playing the Micky Mouse games that a Rear-echelon fuckwit like Rook seemed to thrive on.
“Where is Gold Two?” Rook said, “He is not responding.”
Christian looked out at Manny as the argument with the Garrison Commander grew more heated. He wasn’t sure what this was about exactly. This being South America, it could be a local Official looking to get his palm greased, the Garrison Commander trying to pull rank on a Foreign Officer who was outside his chain-of-command, some strange beef he had with Manny, or who knew what else.
“He is practicing a bit of diplomacy and isn’t in a position to talk to you at the moment” Christian replied.
“Can I get a status update from you then?” Rook asked.
“We are trying to avoid sleeping in our vehicles tonight” Christian replied, “And the Commander of the Garrison here in Comodoro Rivadavia has a problem with us. Need anything else?”
“No” Rook said, “Is there anything I can do to help?”
It was a stupid question considering where Rook was.
“Not from sixteen thousand kilometers away” Christian replied.
Rook was silent for a few seconds. He could provide intelligence and put them in touch with friendly assets. What he could not do, was get them out of an annoying situation from halfway around the Globe.
Technology couldn’t solve every problem, Christian thought to himself. It was something that was painfully obvious to everyone but the likes of Rook it seemed.
29th July 1970
Comodoro Rivadavia, Chubut Province, Argentina
After a few days spent as guests of Coronel Ibarra and the relative paradise that was his house on the banks of the Rio Negro, the long drive back to Rio Gallegos had been something that no one had been looking forward to. All they needed to do was to look at a map to see why, they had driven nearly two thirds of the way across this country. Parked in the parade ground of the Argentine Army garrison, Christian could see that the Commander was apparently less than thrilled to see them back so soon.
The trip north had been productive. Manny had told Christian that he had been able to secure agreements regarding the provisioning of the 7th Recon with the Coronel. That would simplify things immensely and it meant that they would have better food in the Mess Hall. Manny had also told him that his many of his suggestions about what to do about the locals down in Santa Cruz Province had come up almost immediately. Just he had not told Christian which suggestions though he didn’t need too many guesses to figure out what might have been said.
When Christian had returned from the patrol that had taken him to Rio Turbio they had spoken at length. He’d told Manny that if the balloon went up, they would be in a world of shit with a scattered civilian population and an iffy logistical situation. It had been that last part that had prompted Manny to make a call to Rook, asking if there was anyone in Patagonia who was trusted by the German Army. Coronel Ibarra, who Manny’s Aunt Katherine vouched for, had been the first name mentioned. As for what to do about the civilians, Christian had suggested that they ask for volunteers along the lines of the Landwehr Corps they had encountered in Galicia a couple years earlier. Christian had seen how effective farmers could be with old bolt-action rifles could be if they knew the land they were fighting on. Manny had pointed out that was an idea that had several problems. The next step was obvious, once they had an army of irregulars the question would be whether or not they armed them, and Buenos Aires would probably be furious regardless of what happened. As far as they were concerned, a Mestizo with a rifle was a revolutionary regardless of context. Christian had seen how the Gauchos he had met typically carried knives and he had no doubt that they knew how to use them. Still, they weren’t stupid, and they knew that if they got caught between two armies, they would get ground to paste if they couldn’t defend themselves.
Past that, Christian had seen how even things like teaching basic literacy or offering medical services would probably go a long way here. If they really wanted to win the locals over, they would get a team of Veterinarians to Argentina. Dogs, horses, and sheep were all highly regarded in the parts of rural Argentina that Christian had seen.
“We got Rook on the Command Net” Ralf said from the back seat, “What do you want me to tell him?”
Christian knew that it wouldn’t do him any good to bite Ralf’s head off over Rook calling. No one wanted to deal with the High Command’s messenger boy who called every few hours asking what was going on after they had made his acquaintance when he had been assigned to them a couple weeks earlier. There were rumors that he could see them where they were, but Christian found that a bit implausible.
Plugging his headphones into the main radio, Christian keyed the microphone. “What do you want Funker Oberst?” He asked.
“You are not supposed to call me that Gold Three” Rook said indignantly, “Radio protocol.”
“I don’t care” Christian replied, he was tired, and he didn’t feel like playing the Micky Mouse games that a Rear-echelon fuckwit like Rook seemed to thrive on.
“Where is Gold Two?” Rook said, “He is not responding.”
Christian looked out at Manny as the argument with the Garrison Commander grew more heated. He wasn’t sure what this was about exactly. This being South America, it could be a local Official looking to get his palm greased, the Garrison Commander trying to pull rank on a Foreign Officer who was outside his chain-of-command, some strange beef he had with Manny, or who knew what else.
“He is practicing a bit of diplomacy and isn’t in a position to talk to you at the moment” Christian replied.
“Can I get a status update from you then?” Rook asked.
“We are trying to avoid sleeping in our vehicles tonight” Christian replied, “And the Commander of the Garrison here in Comodoro Rivadavia has a problem with us. Need anything else?”
“No” Rook said, “Is there anything I can do to help?”
It was a stupid question considering where Rook was.
“Not from sixteen thousand kilometers away” Christian replied.
Rook was silent for a few seconds. He could provide intelligence and put them in touch with friendly assets. What he could not do, was get them out of an annoying situation from halfway around the Globe.
Technology couldn’t solve every problem, Christian thought to himself. It was something that was painfully obvious to everyone but the likes of Rook it seemed.
Air Fields! Coronel Ibarra i would expect to have at least a dirt strip. Improving these and operating a flying doctor service would make a huge impact on the locals. Just think Australian outback in the 1940's. These dirts strips then make insertion and resupply a lot easier.
