10.5cm Light "Mountain" Howitzer as described. Designed to be broken down into several pieces to be transported more easily.
Stupid Luck and Happenstance, Thread III
- Thread starter Peabody-Martini
- Start date
Part 150, Chapter 2731
Chapter Two Thousand Seven Hundred and Thirty-One
11th November 1978
Near Japara, Java Island
They had been pushing inland through pouring rain, up slick, muddy trails and through dense jungle until they ran into an ambush. As green and red tracers flew through the air, Erich had discovered that he was little more than bit player in this drama with it impossible to tell what was happening more than a few meters away.
The idea was that by destroying the logistics bases of the pirates operating on the Java Sea they would suppress their activities. All to make the world shipping lanes safe for commerce, Erich thought to himself cynically. Apparently, the fact that the freighters were steaming freely through the Malacca Strait was more than paying for the cost of this operation and then some. The world media had also taken notice that the operation had been going and they had been getting some attention. Word was that a Platoon in the 2nd Battalion had a camera crew embedded with them and the predictable problems had followed.
Resistance had also grown considerably as the weeks had dragged on. The trouble was that everyone seemed to realize that but the Oberst and his Staff. Even so, not everything was going to shit. Erich had gotten the Battalion Heavy Weapons Company to unpack everything ahead of the landings. That had included the light, mule transportable 10.5cm “Mountain” Howitzers that had originally been designed for the Alpine Divisions during World War Two. In a rare leap of good sense someone in the High Command had realized that the Marine Infantry could use that sort of fire support when armor or naval artillery was unavailable but still needed to get them across the beach. It was the sort of firepower that no one in the region could match.
The thing was that no one seemed to have told the pirates that.
Erich did his best to stay low as he heard the loud “Snap!” of a Panzerfaust being fired followed a second later by a loud explosion and an even louder secondary explosion. There was the “Clank!” of knee mortars and the sound of automatic rifle fire. The sharp crack of the Marine Infantry’s G44 and Vz.62 rifles, and the bark of Simonov Carbines used by their opponents.
Erich had heard all the jokes. That somewhere in Russia there was a factory pumping out Simonov Carbines by the millions, then selling them to whoever had a small amount of whatever the local currency was and a pulse. He knew that being on the receiving end of those was not in the least bit funny. It seemed like if any idiot got one of those in his hands he suddenly thought that he was equal to Marines with little in the way of discipline or training. The fact that Erich’s men had killed many of those idiots over the last few months told a different story. There seemed to be no shortage of idiots though. There was a distant “Clang!” as the other side fired off one of their own mortars.
Over the tactical network, Erich heard that the Howitzers, the very ones that he had insisted be brought ashore just a few hours earlier were about to fire on enemy positions just a hundred meters or so in front of them. That was entirely dependent on the Heavy Weapons Company getting the powder charges right… No one in the Platoon needed to be told to get down as the high explosive shells shredded the jungle ahead of them.
In the following minutes is was shockingly quiet as Erich’s Platoon advanced until someone started shooting and the process started again.
Havana, Cuba
Doctor James W. Watts had felt growing paranoia over the prior weeks, like if his every move was being watched closely. Eventually, a colleague had suggested that he take a vacation. Havana was far from all of the day-to-day concerns that were probably at the root of the paranoia.
Though he had retired from working full time as a Neurosurgeon more than a decade earlier from George Washington University, he still had obligations. So, getting the time off had taken a bit of time. Even so, flying into Cuba had been like arriving on a different planet and that had been enough to left the feeling that had gripped him over the prior days. He should have known that the warm Caribbean sun would be good for his mental health. James had certainly recommended it for his patients enough times.
The next few days had been idyllic. Every day, James would eat breakfast in the hotel restaurant before spending the day exploring the city of Havana. That was what he had spent the day doing and now he was in the bar for a nightcap before calling it a night. The bar was empty except for him, the bartender, and a woman sitting at the other end of the bar. The woman was in her early forties if James had to guess and like many who people had been born with raven hair she must have gone grey early. Now, it was pure white, and she didn’t try to hide it. James had to respect someone who had a healthy view of aging. That was so rare these days.
A few minutes later James was walking back to the elevator, and he started to notice that his head was swimming as he pushed the button for his floor. The doors started to close, but the woman from the bar stopped them long enough to get on herself. She pressed the button for the basement as James’ was leaning against the wall, struggling to remain standing.
“Hello Doctor Watts” The woman said with a German accent. Seeing her up close, James noticed to his horror that she had a small circular burn scar on her temple.
“Who…?” James managed to croak.
“I am someone who doesn’t just appear at your door” The woman said, “You did something that brought me there.”
She seemed blissful as she said that to James.
11th November 1978
Near Japara, Java Island
They had been pushing inland through pouring rain, up slick, muddy trails and through dense jungle until they ran into an ambush. As green and red tracers flew through the air, Erich had discovered that he was little more than bit player in this drama with it impossible to tell what was happening more than a few meters away.
The idea was that by destroying the logistics bases of the pirates operating on the Java Sea they would suppress their activities. All to make the world shipping lanes safe for commerce, Erich thought to himself cynically. Apparently, the fact that the freighters were steaming freely through the Malacca Strait was more than paying for the cost of this operation and then some. The world media had also taken notice that the operation had been going and they had been getting some attention. Word was that a Platoon in the 2nd Battalion had a camera crew embedded with them and the predictable problems had followed.
Resistance had also grown considerably as the weeks had dragged on. The trouble was that everyone seemed to realize that but the Oberst and his Staff. Even so, not everything was going to shit. Erich had gotten the Battalion Heavy Weapons Company to unpack everything ahead of the landings. That had included the light, mule transportable 10.5cm “Mountain” Howitzers that had originally been designed for the Alpine Divisions during World War Two. In a rare leap of good sense someone in the High Command had realized that the Marine Infantry could use that sort of fire support when armor or naval artillery was unavailable but still needed to get them across the beach. It was the sort of firepower that no one in the region could match.
The thing was that no one seemed to have told the pirates that.
Erich did his best to stay low as he heard the loud “Snap!” of a Panzerfaust being fired followed a second later by a loud explosion and an even louder secondary explosion. There was the “Clank!” of knee mortars and the sound of automatic rifle fire. The sharp crack of the Marine Infantry’s G44 and Vz.62 rifles, and the bark of Simonov Carbines used by their opponents.
Erich had heard all the jokes. That somewhere in Russia there was a factory pumping out Simonov Carbines by the millions, then selling them to whoever had a small amount of whatever the local currency was and a pulse. He knew that being on the receiving end of those was not in the least bit funny. It seemed like if any idiot got one of those in his hands he suddenly thought that he was equal to Marines with little in the way of discipline or training. The fact that Erich’s men had killed many of those idiots over the last few months told a different story. There seemed to be no shortage of idiots though. There was a distant “Clang!” as the other side fired off one of their own mortars.
Over the tactical network, Erich heard that the Howitzers, the very ones that he had insisted be brought ashore just a few hours earlier were about to fire on enemy positions just a hundred meters or so in front of them. That was entirely dependent on the Heavy Weapons Company getting the powder charges right… No one in the Platoon needed to be told to get down as the high explosive shells shredded the jungle ahead of them.
In the following minutes is was shockingly quiet as Erich’s Platoon advanced until someone started shooting and the process started again.
Havana, Cuba
Doctor James W. Watts had felt growing paranoia over the prior weeks, like if his every move was being watched closely. Eventually, a colleague had suggested that he take a vacation. Havana was far from all of the day-to-day concerns that were probably at the root of the paranoia.
Though he had retired from working full time as a Neurosurgeon more than a decade earlier from George Washington University, he still had obligations. So, getting the time off had taken a bit of time. Even so, flying into Cuba had been like arriving on a different planet and that had been enough to left the feeling that had gripped him over the prior days. He should have known that the warm Caribbean sun would be good for his mental health. James had certainly recommended it for his patients enough times.
The next few days had been idyllic. Every day, James would eat breakfast in the hotel restaurant before spending the day exploring the city of Havana. That was what he had spent the day doing and now he was in the bar for a nightcap before calling it a night. The bar was empty except for him, the bartender, and a woman sitting at the other end of the bar. The woman was in her early forties if James had to guess and like many who people had been born with raven hair she must have gone grey early. Now, it was pure white, and she didn’t try to hide it. James had to respect someone who had a healthy view of aging. That was so rare these days.
A few minutes later James was walking back to the elevator, and he started to notice that his head was swimming as he pushed the button for his floor. The doors started to close, but the woman from the bar stopped them long enough to get on herself. She pressed the button for the basement as James’ was leaning against the wall, struggling to remain standing.
“Hello Doctor Watts” The woman said with a German accent. Seeing her up close, James noticed to his horror that she had a small circular burn scar on her temple.
“Who…?” James managed to croak.
“I am someone who doesn’t just appear at your door” The woman said, “You did something that brought me there.”
She seemed blissful as she said that to James.
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Asia is still on her revenge tour.
Unless Dr Watt is a new name and identity, he isn’t the one who was going to preform a frontal lobotomy on Asia at Danvers State Hospital.
The ones that were going to preform the operation, one was given his own 9mm lobotomy, and the other doctor along with Nurse Pratt, was taken back to Russia by Gia and Spenznet rescue team.
Unless Dr Watt is a new name and identity, he isn’t the one who was going to preform a frontal lobotomy on Asia at Danvers State Hospital.
The ones that were going to preform the operation, one was given his own 9mm lobotomy, and the other doctor along with Nurse Pratt, was taken back to Russia by Gia and Spenznet rescue team.
Asia is going to take her time with this one. This is the guy who did the electroshock torture on her.
For the reasons you stated and having died of cancer in 1972, Walter Freeman was no longer available. James Watts, his longtime business partner and chief enabler is.
I speculated in the previous timeline that instead of being thrown in a dark prison cell and left to rot, Dr. Freeman is teaching other doctors on how to preform lobotomies, and he has an unlimited supply of subjects to experiment on.
I would like to know about the fates of Dr. Freeman and Nurse Pratt in Russia as I have some different theories about them.
Asia, I fear has gone off the deep end in her quest for revenge.
She has blown up the BND-NAA operations in the United States to such an extent that it is going to take years to rebuild it.
She has also killed a retired FBI agent who was part of her initial interrogation team in Boston, and then sent her to Danvers.
Asia has caused the coalition government under Heinz Kissinger to fall and early elections to be held.
What is worse, Asia used Kat's daughter, Tatiana as bait to help set some of these things in motion and I have no doubt that Asia mainly blames the late Empress Kira for preventing any solution that would have gotten Asia out of this problem quickly, and since Kira is dead and cannot be punished for what she did and more importantly failed to do, Asia is going to seek her revenge on Kira's closest advisor.
I would like to know about the fates of Dr. Freeman and Nurse Pratt in Russia as I have some different theories about them.
Asia, I fear has gone off the deep end in her quest for revenge.
She has blown up the BND-NAA operations in the United States to such an extent that it is going to take years to rebuild it.
She has also killed a retired FBI agent who was part of her initial interrogation team in Boston, and then sent her to Danvers.
Asia has caused the coalition government under Heinz Kissinger to fall and early elections to be held.
What is worse, Asia used Kat's daughter, Tatiana as bait to help set some of these things in motion and I have no doubt that Asia mainly blames the late Empress Kira for preventing any solution that would have gotten Asia out of this problem quickly, and since Kira is dead and cannot be punished for what she did and more importantly failed to do, Asia is going to seek her revenge on Kira's closest advisor.
I think that using Tatiana as bait is as close as Asia's going to go in regards to getting revenge on Kat, mainly because she knows that Kat would have scorched Massachusetts to bedrock if Kira had allowed her to do so, and because she knows what Kat is truly capable of. Asia would also have taken great delight in Kristina punching Kira during THAT conversation.
Additionally, bringing down Kissenger's government was a triple play on her part: Kissenger had allowed anti-lgbtqai+ bigots into prominent positions of power and Asia is Bi, his government was putting the empire at risk, and it was the closest she could get to punishing the politicians for not turning up the heat on the US for violating in every sense of the word of a diplomatic courier travelling openly on a diplomatic passport.
Part 150, Chapter 2732
Chapter Two Thousand Seven Hundred and Thirty-Two
16th November 1978
Los Angeles, California
It was a cold night, or at least as cold as it ever got in Southern California. That was enough to keep most of the creepy crawlies in for the night so Central Bureau’s Homicide Division had a relatively quiet night. Not that the weather put a halt to the usual human stupidity that kept them busy, it just slowed it down for a bit.
Big Mike and Tony had drawn the short straw and were stuck working graveyard shift this month. Mike wasn’t complaining, the schedule meant that he would be free for Thanksgiving Dinner this year. That was a double bonus because the Holiday was prime crime with “family togetherness” routinely devolving into extreme violence. So far tonight, Mike had only been called out once, to a body found in a back alley. It looked like another overdose, but Mike had written it up all the same, like he was supposed to with any unexplained deaths. Eventually around midnight, Tony had gone out to the pizza place down the street that was open until one to get lunch.
That left Mike listening to the radio in case a call came in. Mostly it was bored Patrol Officers doing regular radio checks. He couldn’t help but notice that one of them was hovering around a 7-11, waiting for something, or more likely someone, to be the entertainment for a little while. That was the sort of thing that tended to result in citizen complaints when they inevitably went too far.
“Combo without anchovies” Tony said setting down the box on Mike’s desk, “And the newspaper you asked for.”
“Thanks” Mike said as he looked at the front page of the Los Angeles Times. The lead story was about the results of the German General Election, Red and Green Coalition Government, National Liberals knocked to third Place is what the headline read. Mike skimmed the article, apparently the red and green was referring to the Social Democrats and the Democratic Ecology Party. There was a photograph of a man who towered over a much shorter woman, the new Chancellor and Vice-Chancellor apparently. He didn’t know enough to have an opinion, just that this news knocked the stories about their own silly season off the front page. According to the article, the new Vice-Chancellor was the sister of the King of Silesia. Despite her having formally renounced her spot in the line of succession her place in the new Government was not without controversy.
That was all well and good, but Mike was looking for a different story. The developing crisis in the East Indies was a bit of a concern of his. If the US got involved, Little Mike would be among the first ones sent. He couldn’t imagine the Clair would be too happy with their son in the middle of that mess, but there wasn’t exactly a whole lot they could do. They had pushed Little Mike to get into Annapolis and that would be the consequence.
“Can I have the sports section?” Tony asked as Mike opened the paper, “Or the comics?”
It was then that an odd story caught Mike’s eye.
“Icepick lobotomy performed on Doctor who popularized the practice in bizarre abduction” Mike read aloud, “In Cuba.”
Both Mike and Tony had encountered a whole lot of strange and depraved things that people had done. Even so, that would be on the top ten list if it had happened in their jurisdiction.
“That shit happens down there?” Tony asked as Mike handed him the Sports and Entertainment pages.
“This one time obviously” Mike replied as he read down the article. “The Havana Police think that it was payback, a singular event, and want to emphasize that Cuba is still safe for tourism.”
“Sounds just like what one of our own esteemed Department spokesmen might say” Tony said, “No known motive or line forms to the left?”
Tony was very cynical about the LAPD Brass. Someone in the Glasshouse in Parker Center had tried to get him killed for reasons that were still unclear. There had been Department of Justice investigation, but neither Tony nor Mike had heard any more about that.
“It doesn’t say” Mike replied, “But it looks like there are a lot of people who think this guy got his just deserts.”
“Glad that one didn’t fall onto my lap” Tony said as he opened to the comics page.
With most Homicide cases, or a major crime like this one where the victim wouldn't be able to tell them much, it was simply a matter of finding out who wanted someone hurt or dead. Usually it was some sort of petty conflict that got out of hand. While Hollywood loved Who-done-its when they made movies, those were the worst kind of cases. If there wasn’t an obvious suspect and the investigation didn’t turn up any red flags, things got cold really quick. On the opposite extreme were cases where there were potentially hundreds of suspects and a decidedly unsympathetic victim which were just as bad. There was also the added complication of it happening in a place like Cuba where whoever had done it could easily have been on a plane out of the country before the victim had even been found dumped in the lobby of the hotel he had been staying at. Mike knew that if he had to deal with a case like that, he might as well just take the file straight to Open/Unsolved to save time.
16th November 1978
Los Angeles, California
It was a cold night, or at least as cold as it ever got in Southern California. That was enough to keep most of the creepy crawlies in for the night so Central Bureau’s Homicide Division had a relatively quiet night. Not that the weather put a halt to the usual human stupidity that kept them busy, it just slowed it down for a bit.
Big Mike and Tony had drawn the short straw and were stuck working graveyard shift this month. Mike wasn’t complaining, the schedule meant that he would be free for Thanksgiving Dinner this year. That was a double bonus because the Holiday was prime crime with “family togetherness” routinely devolving into extreme violence. So far tonight, Mike had only been called out once, to a body found in a back alley. It looked like another overdose, but Mike had written it up all the same, like he was supposed to with any unexplained deaths. Eventually around midnight, Tony had gone out to the pizza place down the street that was open until one to get lunch.
That left Mike listening to the radio in case a call came in. Mostly it was bored Patrol Officers doing regular radio checks. He couldn’t help but notice that one of them was hovering around a 7-11, waiting for something, or more likely someone, to be the entertainment for a little while. That was the sort of thing that tended to result in citizen complaints when they inevitably went too far.
“Combo without anchovies” Tony said setting down the box on Mike’s desk, “And the newspaper you asked for.”
“Thanks” Mike said as he looked at the front page of the Los Angeles Times. The lead story was about the results of the German General Election, Red and Green Coalition Government, National Liberals knocked to third Place is what the headline read. Mike skimmed the article, apparently the red and green was referring to the Social Democrats and the Democratic Ecology Party. There was a photograph of a man who towered over a much shorter woman, the new Chancellor and Vice-Chancellor apparently. He didn’t know enough to have an opinion, just that this news knocked the stories about their own silly season off the front page. According to the article, the new Vice-Chancellor was the sister of the King of Silesia. Despite her having formally renounced her spot in the line of succession her place in the new Government was not without controversy.
That was all well and good, but Mike was looking for a different story. The developing crisis in the East Indies was a bit of a concern of his. If the US got involved, Little Mike would be among the first ones sent. He couldn’t imagine the Clair would be too happy with their son in the middle of that mess, but there wasn’t exactly a whole lot they could do. They had pushed Little Mike to get into Annapolis and that would be the consequence.
“Can I have the sports section?” Tony asked as Mike opened the paper, “Or the comics?”
It was then that an odd story caught Mike’s eye.
“Icepick lobotomy performed on Doctor who popularized the practice in bizarre abduction” Mike read aloud, “In Cuba.”
Both Mike and Tony had encountered a whole lot of strange and depraved things that people had done. Even so, that would be on the top ten list if it had happened in their jurisdiction.
“That shit happens down there?” Tony asked as Mike handed him the Sports and Entertainment pages.
“This one time obviously” Mike replied as he read down the article. “The Havana Police think that it was payback, a singular event, and want to emphasize that Cuba is still safe for tourism.”
“Sounds just like what one of our own esteemed Department spokesmen might say” Tony said, “No known motive or line forms to the left?”
Tony was very cynical about the LAPD Brass. Someone in the Glasshouse in Parker Center had tried to get him killed for reasons that were still unclear. There had been Department of Justice investigation, but neither Tony nor Mike had heard any more about that.
“It doesn’t say” Mike replied, “But it looks like there are a lot of people who think this guy got his just deserts.”
“Glad that one didn’t fall onto my lap” Tony said as he opened to the comics page.
With most Homicide cases, or a major crime like this one where the victim wouldn't be able to tell them much, it was simply a matter of finding out who wanted someone hurt or dead. Usually it was some sort of petty conflict that got out of hand. While Hollywood loved Who-done-its when they made movies, those were the worst kind of cases. If there wasn’t an obvious suspect and the investigation didn’t turn up any red flags, things got cold really quick. On the opposite extreme were cases where there were potentially hundreds of suspects and a decidedly unsympathetic victim which were just as bad. There was also the added complication of it happening in a place like Cuba where whoever had done it could easily have been on a plane out of the country before the victim had even been found dumped in the lobby of the hotel he had been staying at. Mike knew that if he had to deal with a case like that, he might as well just take the file straight to Open/Unsolved to save time.
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Not sure why Asia would have any pressing business in Moscow, seeing as how they were the ones who helped Gia spring her from that hellhole. As for Berlin, she's already got her payback on Kat by involving Tatiana in one of her revenge schemes, even if only peripherally. She also knows that Kat made damned sure that Gia knew where the FBI was holding her.
As for the "good" doctor and his medical misadventure, it sounds like the police in Havana bumped it up to their foreign affairs department once they realised who the victim was and the possible motive/reasoning for the crime. Said government department looked at the available information about both the crime and the 'victim' and decided (as the police probably had) that:
a) he had it coming,
b) the perp almost certainly had left Cuba,
c) they needed to reassure the US government that they had carried out a full investigation and that the perp was probably an American, since the crime was totally barbaric act typically carried out by the victim in the USA, and
d) they needed to reassure their cash cow, I mean tourists, that they were totally safe from a similar fate.
As for the "good" doctor and his medical misadventure, it sounds like the police in Havana bumped it up to their foreign affairs department once they realised who the victim was and the possible motive/reasoning for the crime. Said government department looked at the available information about both the crime and the 'victim' and decided (as the police probably had) that:
a) he had it coming,
b) the perp almost certainly had left Cuba,
c) they needed to reassure the US government that they had carried out a full investigation and that the perp was probably an American, since the crime was totally barbaric act typically carried out by the victim in the USA, and
d) they needed to reassure their cash cow, I mean tourists, that they were totally safe from a similar fate.
Nurse Pratt is still in Russia...
This is a very good analysis, but it is predicated on Asia still being a rational person, and in my opinion, she is not rational as her acts of revenge keeps growing crueler each time.
I still think that Asia used Tatiana as bait in hopes that the Americans would arrest her and cause a major diplomatic incident with the added benefit of having Kat go in to "Berserker Mode" and making things worse.
Ironically the only major player in all of this that Asia would not have problem with is John Aleshire, as Asia would have found out later that Aleshire tried to get the FBI to release her, and that he also informed the BND that the FBI had her in custody and was about to send her to Danvers State Hospital.
The BND having problems with Kira's "Little Birds", did not think that Asia was worth risking the potential exposure of a prime asset like John Aleshire, leaving Asia to her own fate.
I still think that Asia will ultimately go after Kat, first as a stand in for Kira, and also for "not doing everything possible" to help her.
Cuba, for all of its problems with the American Government, the United States is still their largest trading partner and the amount of tourist dollars that flow into Cuba is staggering, plus there are the rumors that Havana is getting a Major League Baseball expansion team soon.
With intel provided by the widow of the God of SIGINT, no less.
Part 150, Chapter 2733
Chapter Two Thousand Seven Hundred and Thirty-Three
18th November 1978
South Kalimantan, Borneo, near Satui
This had been a hard fight with the forces they had engaged retreating into the interior while the local Government was furiously asking them to leave Borneo preventing pursuit. Muller had a feeling that they’d had the chance to end this today just had not been allowed to. So they were left with the cleanup on the site of a mineral export terminal that was on the banks of a river on the southern coast of the Island of Borneo. The pirates had made a stand there and Muller knew that they could not have done it without the aid of the local population. Once again the Marine Infantry was paying the cost for the actions that psychopath Peiper. If he was still alive, it was Muller’s most sincere hope that he was in a whole lot of pain.
In a surreal moment, it seemed like the instant fighting stopped helicopters ferrying in supplies and personnel from Jakarta started arriving. It was from one of the helicopters that a strange figure exited from.
“That motherfucker” Lee muttered as he saw the man.
“Friend of yours? Muller asked.
Lee gave Muller a look that suggested that this was anything but a friend. He was wearing was looked like American Army issue trousers and a Moondogs T-shirt under an aftermarket version of a Flak vest. The camera with a telephoto lens on a strap around his neck spelled out exactly what he was. The big smile on his face suggested that he was a bit clueless about the area they were in and how there had been a raging battle there only a couple hours earlier.
“Ever see Captain Blood?” Lee asked.
“Yeah, old movie” Muller replied, “Errol Flynn, Olivia de Havilland.”
“That’s Flynn’s kid, Sean” Lee said, “And he was a major pain in the ass back in San Diego awhile back after the Army Airbourne got tired of him.”
“Did he not get along with the Soldaten?” Muller asked.
“No” Lee said, “The men tend to love him, and he is good at ingratiating himself with the Officers while being unable to stay out of the way. Care to guess where that leaves the Noncoms?”
Muller had heard of situations like this before with someone outside the chain of command, which those like Muller were tasked with enforcing. It was different with Lee because he took his job as an observer seriously and did his best to stay out of the action. A Photographer wanting to capture that same action on film wouldn’t be as interested in staying out of the way.
“Sergeant Lee?” Flynn asked as he approached them and received a baneful look in reply, which he seemed oblivious to. “What are you doing here?”
“Observing” Lee replied coldly and got a quizzical look in return. Brushing that aside, Flynn turned to Muller.
“I was told by your Colonel that I should look for an Aaron Muller” Flynn said.
“That is Oberfeldwebel, or Oberfeld, Muller” Muller snapped, correcting Flynn. “Most of the men don’t speak English, so don’t bother them.”
Muller had no idea how much English the men in the Platoon actually knew. Most of them had been students in the sorts of schools that didn’t offer comprehensive language programs before joining the Marine Infantry so it would be limited to what they had picked up from movies and television. Muller himself was an exception. He was the son of a Warrant Officer and had spent much of his childhood with his mother’s family in the borderlands of Baja California where learning English had been a matter of survival.
“I guess I’ll just need to play it by ear then Oberfeld” Flynn said with an easy grin and Muller saw exactly what Lee had been getting at.
Wunsdorf-Zossen
While the 140th Regiment was in garrison it seemed like Manny spent more time battling boredom than anything else. As much as he hated to admit it, Manny wished that something would happen. At the moment, there were no foreign invasions or natural disasters for the Regiment to respond to though. It left him with too much time to think about things, the results of the recent elections and how they had affected his life for example.
If there was one thing that Manny didn’t go for, it was politics. It was sort of hard to do when his mother was now the Vice Chancellor of Germany. Manny, Suse, and their two-year-old son Johannes helped present exactly the sort of family image that his mother, and by extension the voters, liked. The only quibble was that Manny and Suse only had one kid with no real desire to have any more. They had no desire to explain the reason for that because it was really no one else’s business.
The truth was that when Suse had been pregnant with Johannes it had been extremely noticeable from the end of the first trimester. That had gotten Suse six months of unwanted attention and unnecessary deference. That and after the scare that they’d had when they had been teenagers, Suse had strongly suggested that Manny keep his sperm to himself.
The situation was going to change in a few months when Christian and Ina had their first. Manny understood that his younger sister had always been the maternal sort, so it was unimaginable that Ina would only have one child. Manny just hoped that Christian knew what he was in for.
The whole time all this was going on, Manny’s father had been largely invisible in the press coverage. Being a sports commentator and talking Football was a dream job that he was not about to give up. It was something that had hardly merited mention in the press. If Manny had to guess there wasn’t a whole lot of crossover between politics and sports, so his parents continued their respective careers.
18th November 1978
South Kalimantan, Borneo, near Satui
This had been a hard fight with the forces they had engaged retreating into the interior while the local Government was furiously asking them to leave Borneo preventing pursuit. Muller had a feeling that they’d had the chance to end this today just had not been allowed to. So they were left with the cleanup on the site of a mineral export terminal that was on the banks of a river on the southern coast of the Island of Borneo. The pirates had made a stand there and Muller knew that they could not have done it without the aid of the local population. Once again the Marine Infantry was paying the cost for the actions that psychopath Peiper. If he was still alive, it was Muller’s most sincere hope that he was in a whole lot of pain.
In a surreal moment, it seemed like the instant fighting stopped helicopters ferrying in supplies and personnel from Jakarta started arriving. It was from one of the helicopters that a strange figure exited from.
“That motherfucker” Lee muttered as he saw the man.
“Friend of yours? Muller asked.
Lee gave Muller a look that suggested that this was anything but a friend. He was wearing was looked like American Army issue trousers and a Moondogs T-shirt under an aftermarket version of a Flak vest. The camera with a telephoto lens on a strap around his neck spelled out exactly what he was. The big smile on his face suggested that he was a bit clueless about the area they were in and how there had been a raging battle there only a couple hours earlier.
“Ever see Captain Blood?” Lee asked.
“Yeah, old movie” Muller replied, “Errol Flynn, Olivia de Havilland.”
“That’s Flynn’s kid, Sean” Lee said, “And he was a major pain in the ass back in San Diego awhile back after the Army Airbourne got tired of him.”
“Did he not get along with the Soldaten?” Muller asked.
“No” Lee said, “The men tend to love him, and he is good at ingratiating himself with the Officers while being unable to stay out of the way. Care to guess where that leaves the Noncoms?”
Muller had heard of situations like this before with someone outside the chain of command, which those like Muller were tasked with enforcing. It was different with Lee because he took his job as an observer seriously and did his best to stay out of the action. A Photographer wanting to capture that same action on film wouldn’t be as interested in staying out of the way.
“Sergeant Lee?” Flynn asked as he approached them and received a baneful look in reply, which he seemed oblivious to. “What are you doing here?”
“Observing” Lee replied coldly and got a quizzical look in return. Brushing that aside, Flynn turned to Muller.
“I was told by your Colonel that I should look for an Aaron Muller” Flynn said.
“That is Oberfeldwebel, or Oberfeld, Muller” Muller snapped, correcting Flynn. “Most of the men don’t speak English, so don’t bother them.”
Muller had no idea how much English the men in the Platoon actually knew. Most of them had been students in the sorts of schools that didn’t offer comprehensive language programs before joining the Marine Infantry so it would be limited to what they had picked up from movies and television. Muller himself was an exception. He was the son of a Warrant Officer and had spent much of his childhood with his mother’s family in the borderlands of Baja California where learning English had been a matter of survival.
“I guess I’ll just need to play it by ear then Oberfeld” Flynn said with an easy grin and Muller saw exactly what Lee had been getting at.
Wunsdorf-Zossen
While the 140th Regiment was in garrison it seemed like Manny spent more time battling boredom than anything else. As much as he hated to admit it, Manny wished that something would happen. At the moment, there were no foreign invasions or natural disasters for the Regiment to respond to though. It left him with too much time to think about things, the results of the recent elections and how they had affected his life for example.
If there was one thing that Manny didn’t go for, it was politics. It was sort of hard to do when his mother was now the Vice Chancellor of Germany. Manny, Suse, and their two-year-old son Johannes helped present exactly the sort of family image that his mother, and by extension the voters, liked. The only quibble was that Manny and Suse only had one kid with no real desire to have any more. They had no desire to explain the reason for that because it was really no one else’s business.
The truth was that when Suse had been pregnant with Johannes it had been extremely noticeable from the end of the first trimester. That had gotten Suse six months of unwanted attention and unnecessary deference. That and after the scare that they’d had when they had been teenagers, Suse had strongly suggested that Manny keep his sperm to himself.
The situation was going to change in a few months when Christian and Ina had their first. Manny understood that his younger sister had always been the maternal sort, so it was unimaginable that Ina would only have one child. Manny just hoped that Christian knew what he was in for.
The whole time all this was going on, Manny’s father had been largely invisible in the press coverage. Being a sports commentator and talking Football was a dream job that he was not about to give up. It was something that had hardly merited mention in the press. If Manny had to guess there wasn’t a whole lot of crossover between politics and sports, so his parents continued their respective careers.
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Hans is still doing that? How often does he and Doug cover the same game? Since those two have been friends for over thirty years now, I'm sure Doug has had a separate portfolio just covering the ITTL Bundesliga by now.
Hans covering Hertha winning the title would be the pinnacle of his life.
Part 150, Chapter 2734
Chapter Two Thousand Seven Hundred and Thirty-Four
22nd November 1978
Semangka Bay, Lampung, Sumatra
Just a few hours earlier Erich had seen Krakatoa in the distance as the ships of the flotilla had passed by. In the starlight, the cinder cone poking only a couple hundred meters above the water had not been too impressive. He remembered reading about the massive eruption that had almost completely destroyed the island about a century earlier. It was hard to imagine that from what he had seen. The volcano that had done that was there though, ticking away, ready to explode with equal violence at any time. The events of the following hours made plain to Erich that he should have paid a bit more attention to his own thoughts in the lead up to the start of this latest operation. Had no one in the Regiment’s Command Staff thought to look at a map while they were planning the whole thing?
It had started simply enough. They had landed on the beach at Semangka Bay and had found the location of the suspected pirate hideout had been hastily abandoned with its former occupants having poured gasoline over everything they couldn’t take with them hours before. It meant that they had lost the element of surprise long before the landing craft had left the well dock. It was something that had happened several times over the prior weeks and like before, what they had burnt wasn’t just cheap consumer products. They found corpses amongst the ashes. The frustration over that was why Erich had been forced to follow along as his men had gone charging after the contacts that had been made on the western edge of the encampment.
That was where it all went wrong.
Erich had seen how the road heading to the north and west was just a muddy track running between palm oil plantations. As soon as he saw it, he knew what he would have done if the situation had been reversed, lead the opposing force into an ambush. Almost as soon as he had that thought, that was exactly what happened. Mortars and machine guns opened up catching them flatfooted. Erich had watched as a half-dozen of his men had become casualties before he had a chance to react. They swiftly retreated dragging the casualties after them.
Falling back to the encampment, Erich had tried to restore order as he saw that the fire was increasing from the tree lines around them. That was when he felt something lace across his left calf and felt a sharp pain. Looking down he saw that his left leg looked like it was still attached, so he resumed yelling at the men as the gunners in his Platoon started firing at the tree line ignoring whatever had just happened. Bursts of 8mm and 6.5mm bullets flying in had a way of being a distraction. So, Erich had time to get on the tactical network and heard the expanding chaos as much of the rest of the Battalion had come under attack. Hauptmann Dunkel was furious when he managed to contact him the Company’s Headquarters Section with the 3rd Platoon had been hit at the same time that his had been. As near as Erich could tell Dunkel was only a few hundred meters away, but it was hard to tell.
To Erich’s surprise, the area they had just vacated was engulfed in fire. He heard the sound of a low flying aircraft’s turboprop engine before he noticed the garlic/petrochemical smell of incendiary bombs. Despite this being during the monsoon season, the palm trees in the plantations were burning like torches.
The airplane circled back around and was firing it’s guns at something to the west of them as it was joined an additional three planes. The small turboprop was one of the new design that Erich had heard about. It was the result of the experiences in Argentina where dedicated close air support had been deemed necessary. It was said that it was the final project of Kurt Tank before he had retired to his country estate in Posen. Being relatively close to Jakarta meant that they had some air support, which was always welcome. What wasn’t welcome was the sound of artillery from the top of the ridges that overlooked Semangka Bay. The rest was heard over the radio as the Ozelot led the ships out of the narrow bay after requesting that the aircraft cover that retreat.
This wasn’t the first time that something like this had happened. The last time there had been grumbling about the Captain of the Ozelot was bad combination of craven and connected. His job was to provide fire support for the Marine Infantry after they went ashore, but he seemed to be more worried about the ships under his command taking damage than doing that job. The last time Erich had not accomplished anything by yelling at them over the radio. Today was no different. Instead, he got on the strategic network using the backpack radio the Platoon's Radio Operator carried trying to get a handle on what was happening.
“You’re bleeding heavily Sir” The Platoon’s Medic said. Erich had forgotten about that with everything else going on. He now noticed that blood had soaked the leg of his trousers and was filling the lightweight tropical boots he was wearing. “That needs attention.”
Erich knew that the Medic was just doing his job, but it was one more thing he didn’t need in what was quickly becoming a bad day. It was all he could do not to cuss the man out as he told the Medic to deal with it.
22nd November 1978
Semangka Bay, Lampung, Sumatra
Just a few hours earlier Erich had seen Krakatoa in the distance as the ships of the flotilla had passed by. In the starlight, the cinder cone poking only a couple hundred meters above the water had not been too impressive. He remembered reading about the massive eruption that had almost completely destroyed the island about a century earlier. It was hard to imagine that from what he had seen. The volcano that had done that was there though, ticking away, ready to explode with equal violence at any time. The events of the following hours made plain to Erich that he should have paid a bit more attention to his own thoughts in the lead up to the start of this latest operation. Had no one in the Regiment’s Command Staff thought to look at a map while they were planning the whole thing?
It had started simply enough. They had landed on the beach at Semangka Bay and had found the location of the suspected pirate hideout had been hastily abandoned with its former occupants having poured gasoline over everything they couldn’t take with them hours before. It meant that they had lost the element of surprise long before the landing craft had left the well dock. It was something that had happened several times over the prior weeks and like before, what they had burnt wasn’t just cheap consumer products. They found corpses amongst the ashes. The frustration over that was why Erich had been forced to follow along as his men had gone charging after the contacts that had been made on the western edge of the encampment.
That was where it all went wrong.
Erich had seen how the road heading to the north and west was just a muddy track running between palm oil plantations. As soon as he saw it, he knew what he would have done if the situation had been reversed, lead the opposing force into an ambush. Almost as soon as he had that thought, that was exactly what happened. Mortars and machine guns opened up catching them flatfooted. Erich had watched as a half-dozen of his men had become casualties before he had a chance to react. They swiftly retreated dragging the casualties after them.
Falling back to the encampment, Erich had tried to restore order as he saw that the fire was increasing from the tree lines around them. That was when he felt something lace across his left calf and felt a sharp pain. Looking down he saw that his left leg looked like it was still attached, so he resumed yelling at the men as the gunners in his Platoon started firing at the tree line ignoring whatever had just happened. Bursts of 8mm and 6.5mm bullets flying in had a way of being a distraction. So, Erich had time to get on the tactical network and heard the expanding chaos as much of the rest of the Battalion had come under attack. Hauptmann Dunkel was furious when he managed to contact him the Company’s Headquarters Section with the 3rd Platoon had been hit at the same time that his had been. As near as Erich could tell Dunkel was only a few hundred meters away, but it was hard to tell.
To Erich’s surprise, the area they had just vacated was engulfed in fire. He heard the sound of a low flying aircraft’s turboprop engine before he noticed the garlic/petrochemical smell of incendiary bombs. Despite this being during the monsoon season, the palm trees in the plantations were burning like torches.
The airplane circled back around and was firing it’s guns at something to the west of them as it was joined an additional three planes. The small turboprop was one of the new design that Erich had heard about. It was the result of the experiences in Argentina where dedicated close air support had been deemed necessary. It was said that it was the final project of Kurt Tank before he had retired to his country estate in Posen. Being relatively close to Jakarta meant that they had some air support, which was always welcome. What wasn’t welcome was the sound of artillery from the top of the ridges that overlooked Semangka Bay. The rest was heard over the radio as the Ozelot led the ships out of the narrow bay after requesting that the aircraft cover that retreat.
This wasn’t the first time that something like this had happened. The last time there had been grumbling about the Captain of the Ozelot was bad combination of craven and connected. His job was to provide fire support for the Marine Infantry after they went ashore, but he seemed to be more worried about the ships under his command taking damage than doing that job. The last time Erich had not accomplished anything by yelling at them over the radio. Today was no different. Instead, he got on the strategic network using the backpack radio the Platoon's Radio Operator carried trying to get a handle on what was happening.
“You’re bleeding heavily Sir” The Platoon’s Medic said. Erich had forgotten about that with everything else going on. He now noticed that blood had soaked the leg of his trousers and was filling the lightweight tropical boots he was wearing. “That needs attention.”
Erich knew that the Medic was just doing his job, but it was one more thing he didn’t need in what was quickly becoming a bad day. It was all he could do not to cuss the man out as he told the Medic to deal with it.
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Seems like Erich’s wound was messy but not too severe. On the upside, he’s now got a Wound Badge 3rd class (in Black) for his trouble. He might also possibly win an EK II for his “coolness under fire while wounded” if ‘politics’ doesn’t get in the way.
Even if he doesn't get an medal for this, the post-action report will highlight his actions. This will tick of another box for the higher command in the evaluation of this junior offices.
Maybe soon we can have Erich amending relations with his father due to his injuries and some medal.
Also commenting him about some Ozelot captain and his less than stellar behaviour...