Stupid Luck and Happenstance, Thread III

[Salamander]

Manfred: "Suse, what are you doing in, and with, that panzer?"
Suse: "Well, like I told you, if they won't let me command them, then I'll just build them. Really Manfred, you need to start paying more attention to our conversations, otherwise you might miss something important."

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Nine Hundred Twenty-Two



2nd August 1969

Nanjing, China

One of the oldest rules of warfare was that you should never do what your enemy thinks you should. It was one that General Sun Li-jen understood and was putting into practice by not having a battle when and where Pan Yong anticipated. The other side understood that there were few crossings of the Yangtze River that a modern Army could use, and that Pan was massing his forces at the most likely. Crossing at Nanjing was something of gamble because of the geography of the area with many potential chokepoints that were easily defended. That was why Sun had sent a token force to Wuhan to keep Pan’s forces occupied while the bulk of his army made the crossing.

The other part of the plan was to maintain room to maneuver because a set-piece battle would play into Pan’s strengths as a commander with a larger army. Sun had an ace in the hole that he was watching cross the Yangtse, dozens Lynx II tanks that had been refurbished by the Argentina and secretly transported to China via Hong Kong as a part of an arms deal brokered by a third party who the British Empire preferred to work with, John Kennedy. That had resulted in Sun’s army having the latest equipment to go along with the clandestine training that he had personally overseen. It was just proof that his rebellion had been years in the making, ever since Chiang Kai-shek had Sun reassigned to a meaningless position because he had come to be seen as an outsider shortly before the Korean debacle, which he had vocally opposed. There were just too many other world powers who had interests bound up in the Korean Peninsula for that operation to have ever been successful.

It had been that treatment as an outsider that had let Sun Li-jen see China clearly as for the first time. How they had been played again and again because they had not understood the rules of the game. How the stagnation and decay that had afflicted them for centuries hadn’t gone away despite Chiang Kai-shek’s assertions because the Generalissimo was just as much a part of it as anyone else because he valued loyalty over competence. Sun understood that eventually would become Chiang’s undoing as all of his favored underlings saw themselves as his replacement even if they lacked the wherewithal to act as yet, but not soon enough.



Cambridge, Massachusetts

The University had offered Hillary help in finding a roommate to split the cost of the apartment. She had accepted with the understanding that they would do their best to match her with someone who had shared interests and hopefully a personality that wouldn’t clash with hers. It had taken her all of five seconds to figure out that they had just looked at the names of the other first year Law Students and referred the first one to her.

“We are going to like, be the very best of friends” Velma Lloyd said as she entered the apartment carrying a potted fern and a cage containing a white ferret that stared banefully out at her. The way she talked with a California vocal fry and the things she said gave the impression that her IQ was somewhere around room temperature. As if the blond hair and blue sweatshirt with UCLA spelled across the front of it in yellow letters above a cartoon bear weren’t already big clues as to who and what she was. Hillary was dumbfounded that someone like this could possibly have gotten into Harvard Law.

Hillary heard Velma squeal in delight when saw the view out the window of her bedroom of the tree shaded backyard. “This is so much nicer than my Mom’s place in North Hollywood” Velma said as she put the fern and the ferret’s cage on the dresser.

“You didn’t say that you had a pet” Hillary said looking at the ferret as Velma walked back towards the front door. Presumably to get more stuff from her car, a red VW Rabbit with California plates that looked like it had about a million miles on it.

“Nigel is harmless” Velma said and then Hillary heard the front door close. She had the sinking feeling that she was going to be stuck with Surfer Barbie and her ferret for at least the next University term.



Montreal, Canada

The threatened meeting of the Ladies Montreal Literary Society was happening in Oma and Opa’s parlor. Marie had been ushered out of the room so that the women in the Literary Society could drink their chardonnay and argue about the books they pretended to read in peace. That was how she had found herself in the back garden with the children and grandchildren of the members as they did their best to play though there really wasn’t a whole lot to do. Mercifully, most of the children were far younger than she was, so Sir Malcolm’s suggestion that she spend time with people her own age hadn’t quite come to pass. There was a girl Marie’s age, but she gave her a sour look when tried to talk to her and pointedly went back to her book.

For lack of anything better to do, Marie tried to measure the concrete patio with her feet. It was easy to do in the ballet slippers that she was wearing. She was engrossed in that for a considerable period.

“Are you really a German Princess?” The girl asked.

“Hardly” Marie replied, “Who told you that?”

“No one” The girl said, and she went back to her book.

 

[Salamander]

So Hillary Rodham meets TTL's inspiration for 'Legally Blonde' and may be pleasantly surprised (or outright stunned) when she realises the Surfer Barbie isn't an idiot.

Meanwhile, China continues to live in interesting times. Shu Li-jen seems to realise that China has fallen behind in the Great Game due to its own insularity, and seeks to play the British off against the rest, possibly failing to see that he, too, might be being played. Britain (& the others) will have plans for Shu Li-jen turning on them in the event that he wins. As for the difference between what the Brits had JFK do & what Arbusto did, is that JFK is acting on an (un)official basis, while Georgie Boy was purely private enterprise.

As for the girl with the book in Canada, is she Marie's cousin or is she a daughter/granddaughter of one of Margot's cronies?

Edit: Nigel the Ferret sounds like he might be fun

 

[ejpsan]

British Intelligence is playing smart by having Jack Kennedy who is known to basically every intelligence agency in the world as "Kat's Irish Shyster Mouthpiece" as the point man and with all the paperwork and money starting and ending in Dublin leads to everyone else thinking that he is working on behalf of the Germans.
As long as this operation is not stepping on the Germans toes and going against their interests they are going to leave Jack alone but it wouldn't surprise me if Kat has someone working in Jack's office keeping tabs on him.

 

[ferdi254]

At least depending on the room measured in Fahrenheit you get 75 to 80. In Celsius it would be a totally different matter. But then again in Kelvin.... wow.

 

[Salamander]

British Intelligence is playing smart by having Jack Kennedy who is known to basically every intelligence agency in the world as "Kat's Irish Shyster Mouthpiece" as the point man and with all the paperwork and money starting and ending in Dublin leads to everyone else thinking that he is working on behalf of the Germans.
As long as this operation is not stepping on the Germans toes and going against their interests they are going to leave Jack alone but it wouldn't surprise me if Kat has someone working in Jack's office keeping tabs on him.

She does. P-M even named him. John Fitzgerald Kennedy. Jack is far more terrified of what Kat could do to him than what the others, Brits & IRA included, can do. If she asks, he'll tell her.

 

[Dan]

Of course, this assues that the British haven't just used John Kennedy's name to tweak the Tigress' tail for sport.

I think I have my new favourite character too: Nigel.
Hillary can expect to get nipped if she just sticks her fingers in the cage, but it won't be malicious, it will just be a "how do I play with these things that have just been shoved in my cage?" kind of way.
Also, if Nigel is let out, expect socks, keys or any tasty snacks to go missing and turn up stashed in the darkest corner of the room.
subject though. Note: while ferret biscuits will be available, they love raw chicken, (including the bones), and a normal sized chicken wing will last a single ferret for a couple of days. They also like fish. Although that makes their shit really stink. For fun though, you can put them on a lead and take them for a walk. Just not very fast.

Ferrets are great. I may be biased on this subject though.

 

[theg*ddam*hoi2fan]

I think I have my new favourite character too: Nigel.
Hillary can expect to get nipped if she just sticks her fingers in the cage, but it won't be malicious, it will just be a "how do I play with these things that have just been shoved in my cage?" kind of way.
Also, if Nigel is let out, expect socks, keys or any tasty snacks to go missing and turn up stashed in the darkest corner of the room.
subject though. Note: while ferret biscuits will be available, they love raw chicken, (including the bones), and a normal sized chicken wing will last a single ferret for a couple of days. They also like fish. Although that makes their shit really stink. For fun though, you can put them on a lead and take them for a walk. Just not very fast.

Ferrets are great. I may be biased on this subject though.

They really are.

 

[M. A. Dickens]

So Hillary Rodham meets TTL's inspiration for 'Legally Blonde' and may be pleasantly surprised (or outright stunned) when she realises the Surfer Barbie isn't an idiot.

U-C-L-A-sucks.

I have to say it, my inner Trojan compels me.

But really though, HR's in for an interesting time at Harvard.

Marc A

 

[ferdi254]

Then there are people who put ferrets into their trousers (legs of course not open) and make a contest who can keep his trousers on longest...

 

[baldipaul]

Then there are people who put ferrets into their trousers (legs of course not open) and make a contest who can keep his trousers on longest...

Have a look at Hale & Pace's Yorkshire Airlines sketch.

 

[Dan]

Then there are people who put ferrets into their trousers (legs of course not open) and make a contest who can keep his trousers on longest...

That was originally a spoof using a piece of wire to make it look like there was something in there.
Of course someone had to take it seriously...

However, having personally had experience with how sharp a ferret's teeth are when they actually want to bite, there is no amount of money you could realistically pay me to put a ferret, even a friendly one, down my trousers. that's a definite hard NO.

 

[ferdi254]

Dan there are some videos of that on the net. It does not look nice I can tell you.

But no amount of money? One bilion Euro and a ferret?

 

[Dan]

Do you have 1bn Euro?

 

[Salamander]

Of course, this assues that the British haven't just used John Kennedy's name to tweak the Tigress' tail for sport.

I think I have my new favourite character too: Nigel.
Hillary can expect to get nipped if she just sticks her fingers in the cage, but it won't be malicious, it will just be a "how do I play with these things that have just been shoved in my cage?" kind of way.
Also, if Nigel is let out, expect socks, keys or any tasty snacks to go missing and turn up stashed in the darkest corner of the room.
subject though. Note: while ferret biscuits will be available, they love raw chicken, (including the bones), and a normal sized chicken wing will last a single ferret for a couple of days. They also like fish. Although that makes their shit really stink. For fun though, you can put them on a lead and take them for a walk. Just not very fast.

Ferrets are great. I may be biased on this subject though.

Can't get them as pets here in New Zealand anymore. Banned as an introduced pest species. Although some people do keep ones they catch as babies in the wild.

 

[Dan]

Can't get them as pets here in New Zealand anymore. Banned as an introduced pest species. Although some people do keep ones they catch as babies in the wild.

They're great help for flushing rabbits out and into nets.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Nine Hundred Twenty-Three



3rd August 1969

Schwielochsee, Spreewald National Park

Laying in her bunk, Sophie was doing her level best to take a nap on a rainy Sunday afternoon. That was difficult with all the noise that the other three girls were making only a few meters away in the tiny cabin’s front room. How could working on a jigsaw puzzle be such a loud activity? It was a mystery that Sophie didn’t care to solve. Unable to sleep, she just listened to the rain drumming on the roof of the cabin and wished that were the only noise. It would be restful.

They had been informed that they were free to do whatever they liked on Sundays after breakfast and the daily chores were complete. There was also the promise of ice cream and cartoons the mess hall that evening after supper. Sophie had decided that she wanted to catch up on sleep because they had been woken up before sunrise every day and kept busy until late in the day when they had been too exhausted to do more than just fall into bed.

It had been nice to see how happy Ziska was here. For her entire life she had always been the odd one out, unable to do most of the things that the others around her did. In the Spreewald most of the exploring was done on punts and the small boats by pole just required a lot of upper body strength, so Ziska was in the same boat as everyone else as it were. Mostly that involved falling into the rivers or lakes a dozen or more times a day and Ziska had always liked swimming because her leg wasn’t a handicap in the water.

The other two girls were Lina Kauffmann, the daughter of Aunt Kat’s dear friend Anne and a newcomer by the name of Ilona Kirch who had been given the fourth bunk in the cabin. It seemed that the camp assigned bunks based on geography because all four of them lived within a few kilometers of each other and had even attended the same schools. It seemed as if someone had decided that they should all be in the same circle of friends, but Sophie thought that was absurd. Nothing in her life had ever been that contrived, instead it had always been a mess even at the best of times.

Recently Sophie had received the news that both her grandparents had died within a few hours of each other. Apparently, her grandfather had died of advanced emphysema. Her grandmother had suffered a stroke a few years earlier and had been left unable to speak or care for herself. It was a mercy that she had peacefully passed while efforts had been underway to figure out what to do with her. Sophie had returned to the apartment that had been her family’s home for the first time in nearly two years and it had seemed far smaller than she remembered. It was just a dingy collection of rooms with nicotine stained walls and broken-down furniture. Sophie’s mother had been seething in the kitchen, sitting there smoking a cigarette and giving Sophie a withering glare as she had taken a box of keepsakes that her grandmother had supposedly wanted her to have. Fortunately, the cashier’s check that was her grandparent’s meager savings had been given to her by the Solicitor handing what there was of their estate. Sophie had a feeling that if her mother would fly into a rage if she ever found out about where it had gone because her mother had always behaved strangely when it came to money. Claiming poverty and resenting how much Sophie was costing her every time Sophie needed something, while at the same time she had rarely spared any expense when it came to her appearance. Sophie had no clue as to what she had ever done to earn the hatred, abuse, and neglect she had received from her mother.

The entire time the Solicitor had seemed confused about what was going on. He had been informed that Sophie had not seen her mother since she had been removed from her custody. Still, it had felt like if he had expected it to be a different sort of reunion, bonding in a difficult time or some other deluded nonsense. There were several good reasons why Elke wasn’t allowed to be alone with her daughter. He should have watched the video taken by Kiki’s friend of some of the things that Sophie’s mother had done to her and would have known better.

That all seemed very distant as Sophie stared at the ceiling of the cabin. Out in the front, she could hear the others singing along with a pop song on that seemed to be everywhere this summer that was playing on Lina’s tape recorder. Like most other pop songs, it left her cold. She sometimes doubted that she liked music at all. Ziska told her that was nonsense and that she would eventually find something that was to her taste. The music playing on the tape recorder was decidedly not to Sophie’s taste.

For lack of anything better to do, Sophie put her pillow over her head and wished that she had a cabin all to herself. Perhaps even a tent pitched on the shore of the lake as a compromise. Though as soon as Sophie had the thought, she realized that a tent would be terrible on a rainy afternoon like this one.

 

[ejpsan]

Poor Sophie, the death of her grandparents while closing a chapter in her life it brought back all the reasons and memories of that life before that first summer at Kiki's Castle.
Elke is still the monster that keeps Sophie from being free to fully feel safe with Kat and family.
It must be universal that just because adults are friends with each other that means that their children will be friends but it doesn't work that way but to be fair Sophie is not giving Lina and Ilona a chance.

 

[A. Morgan]

I think we are starting to see the healing process with Sophie. Eventually she will be able to see her mother has no power over her and the choices she makes for her life. Having a close friend will not hurt at all in that regard. Your friends will always tell you the facts of life when other will not.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Nine Hundred Twenty-Four



7th August 1969

Rural Brandenburg, near Nauen

For what must have been the thousandth time this hour, Zella cursed the clothes that she was wearing. Someone at ARD figured that it would be fun to send her out a replica of a Medieval farming village that had been built by the History Department of Friedrich Wilhelm University of Berlin. That had included a period correct costume that Zella was supposed to wear when on camera, an absurd Milkmaid getup that Zella wouldn’t otherwise be caught dead in. It was the little things like this that were the reason why she had a doll that looked a lot like the Production Manager at ARD’s Berlin affiliate with several pins shoved through it hidden in the bottom drawer of her desk.

How on Earth was it possible for a dress to be both suffocating and a bit too revealing at the same time? Zella wondered to herself as she tried to adjust the bodice that was tightly laced around her abdomen. It was pushing everything up and leaving her feeling like she was about to spill out of it at any second. If she found out that this had been selected for the purpose of driving up ratings, then she was going to do some extremely unpleasant things to whoever was responsible.

“This dress is awful” Zella muttered to herself as she and Yuri walked across the Common, a muddy field that reeked of cow manure. He was wearing ordinary street clothes and lugging the heavy camera equipment and had no clue as to how much she envied him at this moment.

“It looks perfect” Yuri said, “My mother would say that you are lucky to have the figure to wear it.”

“You would say that” Zella said sourly, “But it was made with someone different in mind.”

“How so?” Yuri asked.

“It was made for a woman with smaller…” Zella started to say only to pause when she noticed that Yuri was no longer looking her in the eye. “Would you mind looking at something else.”

“Sorry” Yuri said, his eyes snapping forward at something in the distance. As if Zella needed more proof that this stupid dress was an adolescent fantasy, and she was going to be interviewing University students. It was something she was not looking forward to.



Halle, Anhalt

Shooting with an elevated heartrate proved trickier than Manny had anticipated as he had relearned the day before. Considering all the years he had spent shooting various rifles, it was something that he should have known about innately. That was why shooting a paper target with a pistol proved difficult after running an obstacle course. And once he had finished that, there were the real-world scenarios that were part of the live fire drills that needed to be completed with passing scores. The minor detail that he was having to do this with a weapon that he had long regarded as basically useless didn’t help.

“This training course was developed by a woman!” The Feldwebel who was today’s Instructor yelled, “And here we are with a group of men who are supposed to be from one of the most elite Units in the Heer struggling with it. What a disgrace!”

Manny knew better than to mention that he personally knew the woman in question, Kristina von Preussen, and she was an Officer in the FSR. The Jäger Corps of the Joint Medical Service was as hard to get into as any other Special Forces Unit and she had done it. He also didn’t mention that Kristina had based this course on training that she had received early on from Manny’s Aunt Katherine, the Tigress herself. It was supposedly difficult by design because real life was unforgiving.

“Mischner, you are up” The Instructor said, “Four-man Squad, GO!”

That meant that he would be leading a Fireteam, something he had a great deal of experience in doing. Like always the exercise would be timed and scored. With any luck, today would go far better than the previous one had.



Montreal

Oma Blackwood had shooed Marie Alexandra out of the sunroom so that she could have afternoon tea with her good friends in peace. She said that they wanted to have an adult conversation and that Marie’s presence was not needed. That was why she was again out in the back garden with the same girl who she had given her nothing aside from sour looks a few days earlier. The only real difference was that Marie now knew her name, Henriette Lane. Like before, Henriette seemed interested in her book while pointedly ignoring Marie.

It was a warm afternoon and the Maid had promised them that as soon as the ladies in the house were situated, she would bring snacks and refreshments out to them. That didn’t bother her, she was fine with waiting. It gave her time to explore and the multitude of ways that she could go about doing that.

Taking off her shoes, Marie took the time to feel the differences between the parts of the concrete that were warmed by the sun and those that were cool in the shade. The feel of the moss between her toes was a bit of a pleasure.

“Everyone is talking about you” Henriette suddenly said, “Margot Blackwood’s beatnik granddaughter who is supposedly a Princess in Germany.”

“I told you the other day that I am not a Princess” Marie said, “And what is a beatnik?”

“You know, Bohemian” Henriette said, “Look at how you dress.”

Marie looked at the light blue sundress that she was wearing, nothing about it seemed out of the ordinary. It was perfectly seasonable. Compared to some of the other clothes she had worn, Oma Blackwood had found absolutely nothing objectionable about it.

“I’ve been to Prague” Marie replied, “It seemed like anywhere else I’ve been. What does that have to do with me?”

Henriette looked at Marie as if she had grown a second head. It was something that had been happening with increasing frequency over the last year or so.