Stupid Luck and Happenstance, Thread III
- Thread starter Peabody-Martini
- Start date
ITTL Spiro Agnew was the 1972 GOP Presidential nominee and he lost in a landslide to Richard Nixon after his IOTL bribery and kickbacks crimes were uncovered one year earlier ITTL.
The most prominent Greek American politician IOTL at this point is MA Governor Michael Dukakis.
Part 142, Chapter 2560
Chapter Two Thousand Five Hundred Sixty
16th May 1976
In transit, Rural Brandenburg near Neuruppin
Perhaps it was a bit of a rebellion, but when Sophie learned that members of her club would be eligible to enter the Berlin to Kiel Audax if they were interested, she had signed up. Everyone else had been daunted by the amount of time involved, the modifications that would need to be made to the bicycle they would use, and how it would need to be done entirely without support according to the rules. Sophie already had a bicycle that met all the criteria, and it seemed like a fun thing to do.
Now it was very late at night, extremely dark and Sophie felt like she was a very long way from anything. She knew that much when she realized that she could hear the arcing of electricity in the power lines that ran parallel to the road. The dynamo light lit the way forward, was supposed to illuminate five meters ahead of her, but it wasn’t capable of much more than that. She took a bit of a risk and reached into the canvas bag in the front basket and grabbed a handful of raisins she had in there.
She was riding her Bianchi bicycle tonight because it suited the sort of race she had gotten herself into after she had upgraded the parts recently. The Campagnolo Super Record groupset had proven almost as good as the Shimano parts she had put on her other bicycles including her favorite, the red No-Name. Every few minutes she popped a raisin into her mouth. She had dried apples, cheese, and bread with her as well but didn’t feel like searching for those in the dark.
It was starting to feel like she had been riding forever. With almost the entire day before spent on the first leg of the race, going from Berlin to Kiel. The sun had set during the return leg and Sophie had realized that she would need to press on through the night to complete the race. It would be something if she made it back to Berlin after traveling seven-hundred kilometers. The expected average time was thirty-odd hours and Sophie had been trying to beat that since she had started out. There had been a few awkward moments along the way with it seeming like the race officials had only belatedly realized that Sophie was a girl, but she figured that she was making good time despite that, or at least that was her hope.
Sophie had passed other riders in the night, but that must have been hours earlier, she didn’t know because it was too dark to see her watch. Now it was just her on what seemed like endless empty stretches of dark roads.
Rounding a turn, Sophie saw the lights of a town ahead. She could hear the freewheel clicking as she coasted down the deserted streets. To her surprise, she saw a sign directing her to the control point, meaning that she was in Neuruppin which was just a few hours out from Berlin.
“You’re early Fraulein Sommers” The official said as soon as he saw her. That meant that she would need to wait until it was time for the next leg, not that Sophie would object to a chance to get a little bit of rest. Still, he stamped her brevet card with the time of her arrival then directed her to where she could fill her water bottles and take care of any other needs. There was no one else around, which was a bit surprising.
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Sophie had dozed off for a little bit but had woken up as other riders had started arriving. The first thing that she noticed was that she was noticing that it had gotten cold, and her woolen cycling gear did little to keep her warm. Checking her watch, she saw that the time to restart the race would be in a few minutes. There were a few curious looks directed at her, as she pulled the sweater out of one of her pannier bags that Kat had insisted she take along. She also noticed that her legs felt rubbery despite having had a chance to get a bit of rest. She quickly ate the rest of the food that she had packed, at this point it was either fuel or dead weight. Sophie knew which of those she preferred.
With a second stamp recording her time of departure, Sophie was back on the road out of Neuruppin a few minutes later. She had been shocked to learn that there had been no one ahead of her because she had outpaced all the other riders and had even overheard a bit of talk among the others about being beat by the mere slip of a girl, much to her amusement.
Back on the dark roads, Sophie knew that Neuruppin had been the last control point. She had a straight shot into Berlin, and she intended to make the most of that. Gaining speed, she shifted into higher gears. Again, she was alone after a few minutes, that was just how it went. Her thoughts turned to the recent interview that she had done. Normally an interview like that was stupid with the interviewer asking her questions geared towards inane things like clothes, cosmetics, or boys. This time had been different. Sophie had been asked what she was planning on doing after she was no longer involved in International Competition? It was something which she had never thought about, so she didn’t have an answer for that question. The other questions had been about the technical aspects of her sport, those she was able to answer fairly easily. She continued to press herself harder, knowing that the finish line was drawing close, still it came as a bit of a surprise as she saw the familiar skyline of Berlin come into sight about the time the sun rose.
16th May 1976
In transit, Rural Brandenburg near Neuruppin
Perhaps it was a bit of a rebellion, but when Sophie learned that members of her club would be eligible to enter the Berlin to Kiel Audax if they were interested, she had signed up. Everyone else had been daunted by the amount of time involved, the modifications that would need to be made to the bicycle they would use, and how it would need to be done entirely without support according to the rules. Sophie already had a bicycle that met all the criteria, and it seemed like a fun thing to do.
Now it was very late at night, extremely dark and Sophie felt like she was a very long way from anything. She knew that much when she realized that she could hear the arcing of electricity in the power lines that ran parallel to the road. The dynamo light lit the way forward, was supposed to illuminate five meters ahead of her, but it wasn’t capable of much more than that. She took a bit of a risk and reached into the canvas bag in the front basket and grabbed a handful of raisins she had in there.
She was riding her Bianchi bicycle tonight because it suited the sort of race she had gotten herself into after she had upgraded the parts recently. The Campagnolo Super Record groupset had proven almost as good as the Shimano parts she had put on her other bicycles including her favorite, the red No-Name. Every few minutes she popped a raisin into her mouth. She had dried apples, cheese, and bread with her as well but didn’t feel like searching for those in the dark.
It was starting to feel like she had been riding forever. With almost the entire day before spent on the first leg of the race, going from Berlin to Kiel. The sun had set during the return leg and Sophie had realized that she would need to press on through the night to complete the race. It would be something if she made it back to Berlin after traveling seven-hundred kilometers. The expected average time was thirty-odd hours and Sophie had been trying to beat that since she had started out. There had been a few awkward moments along the way with it seeming like the race officials had only belatedly realized that Sophie was a girl, but she figured that she was making good time despite that, or at least that was her hope.
Sophie had passed other riders in the night, but that must have been hours earlier, she didn’t know because it was too dark to see her watch. Now it was just her on what seemed like endless empty stretches of dark roads.
Rounding a turn, Sophie saw the lights of a town ahead. She could hear the freewheel clicking as she coasted down the deserted streets. To her surprise, she saw a sign directing her to the control point, meaning that she was in Neuruppin which was just a few hours out from Berlin.
“You’re early Fraulein Sommers” The official said as soon as he saw her. That meant that she would need to wait until it was time for the next leg, not that Sophie would object to a chance to get a little bit of rest. Still, he stamped her brevet card with the time of her arrival then directed her to where she could fill her water bottles and take care of any other needs. There was no one else around, which was a bit surprising.
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Sophie had dozed off for a little bit but had woken up as other riders had started arriving. The first thing that she noticed was that she was noticing that it had gotten cold, and her woolen cycling gear did little to keep her warm. Checking her watch, she saw that the time to restart the race would be in a few minutes. There were a few curious looks directed at her, as she pulled the sweater out of one of her pannier bags that Kat had insisted she take along. She also noticed that her legs felt rubbery despite having had a chance to get a bit of rest. She quickly ate the rest of the food that she had packed, at this point it was either fuel or dead weight. Sophie knew which of those she preferred.
With a second stamp recording her time of departure, Sophie was back on the road out of Neuruppin a few minutes later. She had been shocked to learn that there had been no one ahead of her because she had outpaced all the other riders and had even overheard a bit of talk among the others about being beat by the mere slip of a girl, much to her amusement.
Back on the dark roads, Sophie knew that Neuruppin had been the last control point. She had a straight shot into Berlin, and she intended to make the most of that. Gaining speed, she shifted into higher gears. Again, she was alone after a few minutes, that was just how it went. Her thoughts turned to the recent interview that she had done. Normally an interview like that was stupid with the interviewer asking her questions geared towards inane things like clothes, cosmetics, or boys. This time had been different. Sophie had been asked what she was planning on doing after she was no longer involved in International Competition? It was something which she had never thought about, so she didn’t have an answer for that question. The other questions had been about the technical aspects of her sport, those she was able to answer fairly easily. She continued to press herself harder, knowing that the finish line was drawing close, still it came as a bit of a surprise as she saw the familiar skyline of Berlin come into sight about the time the sun rose.
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I just am trying to figure out why she would have to be done with the competitions. She's young enough to be participating in races for a decade or more easily baring injury and then coaching a team or leading an organization that holds races and competitions could easily be in her future as well. She could easily participate in that sport until she is Manfred the Elder Richthofen's age.
She's in her teens, it's the 1970s, people are mostly conservative, so they're expecting her to either concentrate on her studies and/or find a nice boy, get married and start producing children.
There is a good chance that Sophie if she stays injury free can compete until the 1992 Olympics, and depending on how the rules regarding professionalism in the Olympics change, she can make a very good living competing without worrying about having to get a,job and cutting in her training time.
I think, so long as she's not competing for prize money, she should be OK.
If she's riding for a team, she can be paid by the team for non racing work. If she is paid as a consultant engineer, but races for "fun" that might be enough of a get out.
Part 142, Chapter 2561
Chapter Two Thousand Five Hundred Sixty-One
17th May 1976
Tempelhof, Berlin
Kat had told Sophie that she was proud of her, finishing the bicycle race from Berlin to Kiel and then back. She really didn’t care what the final tally had been, just that Sophie had crossed the finish line. As it was, Sophie had completed the ride in just under twenty-three hours with an average speed of 28.5 Kilometers Per-Hour. The Berlin-to-Kiel-to-Berlin Audax wasn’t considered an actual race with the prize being bragging rights with Sophie receiving only a certificate stating that she had completed the race. Still, the open rules of Randonneuring had allowed Sophie to compete in what was a male dominated field in a way that existed in few other venues. Of course, Kat remembered what it had been like when she had been not much older than Sophie and she had been forced to push herself like that to get through Judenbach. She figured that Sophie would be paying a price for her accomplishments today.
“Good morning” Kat said pushing the door to Sophie’s room open with part of the day’s edition of the BT under her arm and a bottle of aspirin in her hand. The day before, Sophie had just enough energy to stagger up to her room and had not emerged afterwards. Sophie just groaned and put a pillow over her head. Sprocket, who had spent the night with Angelica had followed Kat into the room and he was overjoyed to finally be with his favorite person. He jumped up on Sophie’s bed and had his face under the pillow licking her nose, his stubby tail wagging furiously.
“No fair” Sophie said sitting up, pushing Sprocket away, the dog went to the foot of her bed and looked at expectedly. Kat noticed that Sophie was wearing the red and black checkered flannel nightgown that had been a gift from her and Doug the prior Christmas. Regardless of what Sophie had accomplished, she still wanted the comforts that came from her adopted family and Kat was more than happy to let her stay as long as she wanted. It wasn’t a surprise that a look of pain crossed Sophie’s face as much as she tried to hide that sort of thing.
“You rode a bicycle for an entire day, Zoe” Kat said as she handed Sophie the bottle of aspirin. “Two or three of those will help and I figure that you will not turn down a ride to school today.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” Sophie asked.
“You’ll manage” Kat replied, “And I am sure your friends will be very interested in seeing you when you get there.”
With that, Kat handed Sophie the portion of the newspaper she had brought with her. It was the Sport section with a photograph of Sophie on her bicycle from the day before, above the fold with the headline reading; 17-Year-Old Cycling Prodigy and Olympic Hopeful Sophie Sommers smashes record in Bicycle Endurance Race.
“Is this a joke?” Sophie asked.
“Hardly” Kat replied, “And this is far better news that the front page. More dreary news out of Anatolia and the reaction about what the Navy did to the Greeks a couple weeks ago. What the Hell were they thinking by getting involved with that mess?”
Sophie gave Kat a blank look, the International aspects of the day’s events seldom entered her thinking. She supposed that was a good thing, if the madness that consumed the Greeks and the Turks affected Sophie directly it was because she was somehow caught up in it. Instead, it was events that were occurring somewhere far away.
“My job is to know these things because they have a direct bearing on matters here” Kat said.
“If you say so” Sophie said as she finally got out of bed, opening the aspirin bottle as she went, Sprocket at her heels.
“Hurry if you don’t want your breakfast to be cold” Kat said as Sophie walked into the hallway just ahead of her.
Sophie grumbled something before closing the bathroom door with Sprocket taking exception to her not letting him follow. A few seconds later, Kat heard the shower turn on. In the end Sophie was still Sophie, an extremely private, guarded young woman who was stubborn to a fault. She had come a long way in learning to trust Kat and Doug over the last few years, but Kat understood better than anyone that it was a slow, ongoing process. As Kat descended the stairs she could hear the clicking of Sprocket’s toenails on the hardwood following behind her. When Kat reached the dining room on the garden floor it was a scene of domestic chaos that greeted her as everyone in the household was enjoying breakfast.
Sprocket rushed past Kat to take his place under Angelica’s chair. He obviously knew who the easiest mark was. Tatiana was home, normally she left while everyone was still asleep to avoid having the same arguments with Kat that they had been having since she was thirteen. Presently, she was talking with Malcolm about the Japanese number puzzles that had appeared in the newspapers. While Malcolm had always had issues with reading, he was a wizard with numbers. Doug was reading the newspaper, probably the same story that Kat had read earlier. His angle was that there were parts of the world where he simply couldn’t go. In Doug’s thinking that was the most galling aspect. He had wanted to lead a photo expedition to Petra for the American magazine National Geographic, but the security could not be guaranteed. That had resulted in the entire thing getting called off. Now with stories about how the Greeks had turned to erasing the history of the lands they were taking over from the Turks; he had asked where it was going to end?
17th May 1976
Tempelhof, Berlin
Kat had told Sophie that she was proud of her, finishing the bicycle race from Berlin to Kiel and then back. She really didn’t care what the final tally had been, just that Sophie had crossed the finish line. As it was, Sophie had completed the ride in just under twenty-three hours with an average speed of 28.5 Kilometers Per-Hour. The Berlin-to-Kiel-to-Berlin Audax wasn’t considered an actual race with the prize being bragging rights with Sophie receiving only a certificate stating that she had completed the race. Still, the open rules of Randonneuring had allowed Sophie to compete in what was a male dominated field in a way that existed in few other venues. Of course, Kat remembered what it had been like when she had been not much older than Sophie and she had been forced to push herself like that to get through Judenbach. She figured that Sophie would be paying a price for her accomplishments today.
“Good morning” Kat said pushing the door to Sophie’s room open with part of the day’s edition of the BT under her arm and a bottle of aspirin in her hand. The day before, Sophie had just enough energy to stagger up to her room and had not emerged afterwards. Sophie just groaned and put a pillow over her head. Sprocket, who had spent the night with Angelica had followed Kat into the room and he was overjoyed to finally be with his favorite person. He jumped up on Sophie’s bed and had his face under the pillow licking her nose, his stubby tail wagging furiously.
“No fair” Sophie said sitting up, pushing Sprocket away, the dog went to the foot of her bed and looked at expectedly. Kat noticed that Sophie was wearing the red and black checkered flannel nightgown that had been a gift from her and Doug the prior Christmas. Regardless of what Sophie had accomplished, she still wanted the comforts that came from her adopted family and Kat was more than happy to let her stay as long as she wanted. It wasn’t a surprise that a look of pain crossed Sophie’s face as much as she tried to hide that sort of thing.
“You rode a bicycle for an entire day, Zoe” Kat said as she handed Sophie the bottle of aspirin. “Two or three of those will help and I figure that you will not turn down a ride to school today.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” Sophie asked.
“You’ll manage” Kat replied, “And I am sure your friends will be very interested in seeing you when you get there.”
With that, Kat handed Sophie the portion of the newspaper she had brought with her. It was the Sport section with a photograph of Sophie on her bicycle from the day before, above the fold with the headline reading; 17-Year-Old Cycling Prodigy and Olympic Hopeful Sophie Sommers smashes record in Bicycle Endurance Race.
“Is this a joke?” Sophie asked.
“Hardly” Kat replied, “And this is far better news that the front page. More dreary news out of Anatolia and the reaction about what the Navy did to the Greeks a couple weeks ago. What the Hell were they thinking by getting involved with that mess?”
Sophie gave Kat a blank look, the International aspects of the day’s events seldom entered her thinking. She supposed that was a good thing, if the madness that consumed the Greeks and the Turks affected Sophie directly it was because she was somehow caught up in it. Instead, it was events that were occurring somewhere far away.
“My job is to know these things because they have a direct bearing on matters here” Kat said.
“If you say so” Sophie said as she finally got out of bed, opening the aspirin bottle as she went, Sprocket at her heels.
“Hurry if you don’t want your breakfast to be cold” Kat said as Sophie walked into the hallway just ahead of her.
Sophie grumbled something before closing the bathroom door with Sprocket taking exception to her not letting him follow. A few seconds later, Kat heard the shower turn on. In the end Sophie was still Sophie, an extremely private, guarded young woman who was stubborn to a fault. She had come a long way in learning to trust Kat and Doug over the last few years, but Kat understood better than anyone that it was a slow, ongoing process. As Kat descended the stairs she could hear the clicking of Sprocket’s toenails on the hardwood following behind her. When Kat reached the dining room on the garden floor it was a scene of domestic chaos that greeted her as everyone in the household was enjoying breakfast.
Sprocket rushed past Kat to take his place under Angelica’s chair. He obviously knew who the easiest mark was. Tatiana was home, normally she left while everyone was still asleep to avoid having the same arguments with Kat that they had been having since she was thirteen. Presently, she was talking with Malcolm about the Japanese number puzzles that had appeared in the newspapers. While Malcolm had always had issues with reading, he was a wizard with numbers. Doug was reading the newspaper, probably the same story that Kat had read earlier. His angle was that there were parts of the world where he simply couldn’t go. In Doug’s thinking that was the most galling aspect. He had wanted to lead a photo expedition to Petra for the American magazine National Geographic, but the security could not be guaranteed. That had resulted in the entire thing getting called off. Now with stories about how the Greeks had turned to erasing the history of the lands they were taking over from the Turks; he had asked where it was going to end?
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Doug is at a point in his professional life where he is considered to be one of the greatest photographers in the 20th Century.
While he is an adventurer at heart, after Albania he probably promised Kat not to go to any more war zones.
That limits him in the kind of jobs that he can take, this one of the reasons I think he is going to Montreal for the Olympics this summer.
One of the ways he can make money for himself is to put together "Coffee Table" books on the various subjects he has covered like battlefield photos, and the famous people that he has taken both formal portraits and candid shots.
Another good revenue stream would be calendars as people need ones every year, and they make great last minute Christmas gifts for people who are not that important to you to give them something more personal.
While he is an adventurer at heart, after Albania he probably promised Kat not to go to any more war zones.
That limits him in the kind of jobs that he can take, this one of the reasons I think he is going to Montreal for the Olympics this summer.
One of the ways he can make money for himself is to put together "Coffee Table" books on the various subjects he has covered like battlefield photos, and the famous people that he has taken both formal portraits and candid shots.
Another good revenue stream would be calendars as people need ones every year, and they make great last minute Christmas gifts for people who are not that important to you to give them something more personal.
Hmm, I know it is probably far far too late to pick apart on this, but considering where Petra is located, I'd have thought that there would be some semblance of stability around Jordan. Granted different WW1, butterflies etc, but once the Ottoman's shat the bed, and considering they weren't straight up backstabbed by Sykes-Pikot as per OTL, one would have imagined that as authority from Constantinople collapsed, the British foreign office would have tried to at least get one friendly nation in the area.
Granted Palestine still being a mess and everything else in the Arabian peninsula is not a fun time, Jordan has access to the one resource in the region that should have allowed a stable, though small, nation to exist. That being plentiful fresh water.
Anyway, that's just me idle world building, what can I say, you give me a lot to work with. As per the Mischner domestic chaos, glad things are going well enough for them all, though I do have to ask if Malcolm has gotten to go on that Antarctic trip yet? Or did I miss it? I could swear there was some plotline about that somewhere. Sadly I'm too swamped with academic work to go re-read.
Granted Palestine still being a mess and everything else in the Arabian peninsula is not a fun time, Jordan has access to the one resource in the region that should have allowed a stable, though small, nation to exist. That being plentiful fresh water.
Anyway, that's just me idle world building, what can I say, you give me a lot to work with. As per the Mischner domestic chaos, glad things are going well enough for them all, though I do have to ask if Malcolm has gotten to go on that Antarctic trip yet? Or did I miss it? I could swear there was some plotline about that somewhere. Sadly I'm too swamped with academic work to go re-read.
Valid criticism, tho I honestly read this story more like a novel than hard AH. It’s strengths are, uncharacteristically for this site, characters and character development, not so much historical plausibility. Like I’m not sure if the Germans winning Verdun like they did or Austria staying separate despite nationalism is really likely, but I can ignore it cause it’s never been the scope of the story.
He has been splitting his time between working as the head of a Luftwaffe Satellite Intelligence Section as a Reserve Officer while studying Computer Sciences at the Friedrich Wilhelm University of Berlin. The Artic Expedition is still his fantasy.
Part 142, Chapter 2562
Chapter Two Thousand Five Hundred Sixty-Two
18th May 1976
Limassol Port, Cyprus
After almost a year of being run hard, the wear and tear on the Grindwal was starting to show. Louis Ferdinand Junior was left feeling like if the effort had become like damage control. Yet he had not heard from Wunsdorf-Zossen or Kiel about how much longer they were supposed to remain on station in the Eastern Mediterranean. In a bit of a historical irony, they were presently moored in Limassol, one of the few relatively friendly seaports in the region which served the British Exclave located on the island.
The news coming in from the crew was not great, the main gun was reliant on the cooling jacket around the barrel to keep from melting during periods of sustained fire and that was part of a larger system with the heat-exchanger deep in the hull. The problem was that the coolant was found to be contaminated by seawater. That meant that one or more of the hundreds of pipes in the exchanger had corroded to the point that it was leaking. So, Borchardt had some men down in the chamber where seawater flooded in from an opening in the hull while the Grindwal was underway. With the valve in the sea-chest closed, it was a very cramped, damp space where they were trying to figure out which pipes were leaking so that bronze plugs could be driven into the water intake which would temporarily solve the problem. The key issue was that it wasn’t the only heat-exchanger on the ship. Louis knew that after so many months at sea, the Grindwal needed to return to the yard so that all her systems could be inspected and replaced if needed. Fixing the pipes in the exchangers alone would be a massive job and who knew what else there was lurking in the ship’s systems. There were also three other ships that were increasingly held together with duct tape and bailing wire. Louis had ordered the Ship’s Captains under his command to have a report about their present status on his desk as soon as they had it completed.
Curiously, SMS T39 “Estoc” was in the best shape of Louis’ Flotilla. The old Fleet Torpedo Boat was a product of a different era and her systems reflected that. They had needed to be more robust by necessity. His father had once told him that new wasn’t always better, this seemed to be an example of that. Finally, there were the complaints from the Grindwal’s Petty Officers that came up every time they did anything involving the ship’s cooling systems. The ship used industrial alcohol as a coolant and there was always someone stupid enough to try to drink it. That never ended well.
At the same time, the situation in Cyprus was somewhat tenuous. The Greeks on the island had learned the role that the flotilla had played in Finike and there had been violent protests outside the gates of the Port. This was just the best they could do until they got further orders. It wasn’t like if they were going back to Constantinople any time soon. The Hellenic Army and by extension the Greek Government were thoroughly pissed over what had happened and how this had exposed their actions in the parts of Turkey that they were occupying. There had been protests in front of the German Consulate located on Cyprus and the Embassy in Constantinople as well. Borchardt had said that if they really wanted to see a meltdown among the Greek populace they would lock the door around the side of the building that was the entrance to the office where the applications for travel visas and work permits were processed. That was an incredibly cynical take, but Louis suspected that Borchardt was probably correct on that score. The present outrage that they were seeing was largely performative and if he had to guess, Louis figured that the Greeks would not be too comfortable if they had to depend on the Russians as their only allied power for long. His mother’s family was Russian, so he knew that it was never a relationship of equals. Sooner or later, the Russians would call in the debts and the Greeks would basically find themselves as tenants in their own country. The Russians had wanted the Bosporus for centuries and if they could get it by helping the Greeks beggar themselves in their crusade against the Turks so much the better.
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The oddest part for Erich was that it was as if Finike had never happened. The men who had died there had been replaced and the Company had gone about business as usual. There had been a debrief, but the written reports had been submitted and that had been the last he had heard about the matter. Hauptmann Dunkel had told him that they’d had a job to do, and they had done it, that was all.
Oberfeld Muller told him not to worry about it, everyone had seen that he had done his bit and they had saved the Medics, so the mission had been far less pointless than usual. Erich had been told what the lot of the Marine Infantry was when he had been in training in Cuxhaven. That they did the dirty, thankless jobs so that their betters wouldn’t need to ever have to think about what was being done in their name. Erich was getting quite an education about what that really meant.
18th May 1976
Limassol Port, Cyprus
After almost a year of being run hard, the wear and tear on the Grindwal was starting to show. Louis Ferdinand Junior was left feeling like if the effort had become like damage control. Yet he had not heard from Wunsdorf-Zossen or Kiel about how much longer they were supposed to remain on station in the Eastern Mediterranean. In a bit of a historical irony, they were presently moored in Limassol, one of the few relatively friendly seaports in the region which served the British Exclave located on the island.
The news coming in from the crew was not great, the main gun was reliant on the cooling jacket around the barrel to keep from melting during periods of sustained fire and that was part of a larger system with the heat-exchanger deep in the hull. The problem was that the coolant was found to be contaminated by seawater. That meant that one or more of the hundreds of pipes in the exchanger had corroded to the point that it was leaking. So, Borchardt had some men down in the chamber where seawater flooded in from an opening in the hull while the Grindwal was underway. With the valve in the sea-chest closed, it was a very cramped, damp space where they were trying to figure out which pipes were leaking so that bronze plugs could be driven into the water intake which would temporarily solve the problem. The key issue was that it wasn’t the only heat-exchanger on the ship. Louis knew that after so many months at sea, the Grindwal needed to return to the yard so that all her systems could be inspected and replaced if needed. Fixing the pipes in the exchangers alone would be a massive job and who knew what else there was lurking in the ship’s systems. There were also three other ships that were increasingly held together with duct tape and bailing wire. Louis had ordered the Ship’s Captains under his command to have a report about their present status on his desk as soon as they had it completed.
Curiously, SMS T39 “Estoc” was in the best shape of Louis’ Flotilla. The old Fleet Torpedo Boat was a product of a different era and her systems reflected that. They had needed to be more robust by necessity. His father had once told him that new wasn’t always better, this seemed to be an example of that. Finally, there were the complaints from the Grindwal’s Petty Officers that came up every time they did anything involving the ship’s cooling systems. The ship used industrial alcohol as a coolant and there was always someone stupid enough to try to drink it. That never ended well.
At the same time, the situation in Cyprus was somewhat tenuous. The Greeks on the island had learned the role that the flotilla had played in Finike and there had been violent protests outside the gates of the Port. This was just the best they could do until they got further orders. It wasn’t like if they were going back to Constantinople any time soon. The Hellenic Army and by extension the Greek Government were thoroughly pissed over what had happened and how this had exposed their actions in the parts of Turkey that they were occupying. There had been protests in front of the German Consulate located on Cyprus and the Embassy in Constantinople as well. Borchardt had said that if they really wanted to see a meltdown among the Greek populace they would lock the door around the side of the building that was the entrance to the office where the applications for travel visas and work permits were processed. That was an incredibly cynical take, but Louis suspected that Borchardt was probably correct on that score. The present outrage that they were seeing was largely performative and if he had to guess, Louis figured that the Greeks would not be too comfortable if they had to depend on the Russians as their only allied power for long. His mother’s family was Russian, so he knew that it was never a relationship of equals. Sooner or later, the Russians would call in the debts and the Greeks would basically find themselves as tenants in their own country. The Russians had wanted the Bosporus for centuries and if they could get it by helping the Greeks beggar themselves in their crusade against the Turks so much the better.
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The oddest part for Erich was that it was as if Finike had never happened. The men who had died there had been replaced and the Company had gone about business as usual. There had been a debrief, but the written reports had been submitted and that had been the last he had heard about the matter. Hauptmann Dunkel had told him that they’d had a job to do, and they had done it, that was all.
Oberfeld Muller told him not to worry about it, everyone had seen that he had done his bit and they had saved the Medics, so the mission had been far less pointless than usual. Erich had been told what the lot of the Marine Infantry was when he had been in training in Cuxhaven. That they did the dirty, thankless jobs so that their betters wouldn’t need to ever have to think about what was being done in their name. Erich was getting quite an education about what that really meant.
So, Greek invasion of Cyprus this time instead of Turkish?
At present Cyprus is at least nominally independent. If the British are being seen as Pro Turkish, (or not suitably anti Turkish by the Greeks), then I wouldn't be surprised to find the Greeks attempt an invasion of Cyprus.
That's something that could prove "interesting" given that there are likely to be Royal Navy, Royal Marines & Royal Air Force on the Island, plus the KM and German Marines present. If the Greeks are lucky, they'll only get a bloody nose from this.
At present Cyprus is at least nominally independent. If the British are being seen as Pro Turkish, (or not suitably anti Turkish by the Greeks), then I wouldn't be surprised to find the Greeks attempt an invasion of Cyprus.
That's something that could prove "interesting" given that there are likely to be Royal Navy, Royal Marines & Royal Air Force on the Island, plus the KM and German Marines present. If the Greeks are lucky, they'll only get a bloody nose from this.
If it is not already obvious, the British and German forces are way out at the end of the line in Cyprus. If the Hellenic Military does decide to invade they are going to have a serious problem and not just the ethnic Greeks who would welcome the invaders as liberators. There are some things that happened in the past which would come back to really bite the KM and the RN in the ass if that occurs.
Part 142, Chapter 2563
Chapter Two Thousand Five Hundred Sixty-Three
28th May 1976
Köpenick, Berlin
The new fingerless cycling gloves were a crocheted black mesh on the back with a double layer of leather on the front protecting Sophie’s hands and reducing the shock felt through the handlebars. Aunt Marcella had given them to her. She had told Sophie that she wanted to see her wow the entire world when Sophie wore them in Montreal in July. That had been the high point of the week and Sophie was glad that she had them as she rode her bicycle up the cracked asphalt of the road to the top of the hill. Sprocket was riding in his basket that had been reattached to the front cargo rack. The slow progress upward didn’t interest him. He preferred when Sophie was riding fast so that he could have his nose in the wind.
Today, she was on her ride to the top of Müggelberge and back, something that she did often because she enjoyed it. Visiting the ruins of the old observation tower and restaurant in the middle of the forest was a nice change from the frenetic movement that defined Berlin. Recently, the forested range of hills had been declared a National Park, protecting it from development. This was not without controversy as it was seen as further closing off the borders of the City of Berlin. The outward expansion of the city was increasing being limited by such efforts. Sophie didn’t mind though. It gave her a nice place to ride to and the final climb was one of the few that she found much a of challenge.
The State had torn down the old observation tower to keep people from climbing it even if it was unsafe several years earlier, so Sophie could only imagine what the view must have been like. She could only catch glimpses of the river on one side, the lake on the other, and the City to the north-west through the trees. When she arrived at the tower, she unclipped Sprocket from the leash that held him into his basket and lifted him out. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he started sniffing everything in sight. Many people in this neighborhood walked their dogs here, so there were probably a lot of things for him to smell.
Sitting on the weathered concrete of the tower, Sophie was admiring the view as she listened to the sound of distant traffic on the wind and the birdsong from the trees. Everything was distant here, which was far better than her daily life. It was her life which was the problem. When the story about her riding in the Berlin-Kiel-Berlin Audax came out there had been a sudden amount of interest in Sophie’s life. It had only taken journalists a short amount of time to learn about her childhood. The worst part was they had interviewed her teacher who had described exactly what she had seen. She described Sophie as this poor little girl wearing old, tattered clothes and always seemed to have unexplained bruises. That much was the truth, but why had she felt the need to mention the food? How the teacher had known that Sophie had stolen pieces of fruit or bread from her when she thought no one was looking and that she had left it within easy reach quite deliberately. Sophie didn’t want people to know of that part of her life.
Sprocket jumped up onto the foundation in an astonishing feat because it was considerably taller than him at and lay down at Sophie’s side. If only more people could be like Sprocket who never judged Sophie nor asked probing questions. Sophie knew that it was only a matter of time before some enterprising journalist tracked down her mother and not be aware of how destructive and manipulative she was. That would be dreadful as it was all too easy to see the sort of narrative that people would glom on to. While Sophie’s mother only shared a similar name as one adopted by a famous actress’ stage name as a coincidence, she was all too good at putting on a show. How she was poor and put upon, how her only daughter had refused to talk to her for years. The public would eat that up and press for reconciliation. Sophie knew full well that it would all be performative at best. In the movies or on television, people like Elke Sommers got their just deserts. This was real life though, so she had done well in the years since Sophie had been removed from her custody at the request of the Princess Royal and the former Empress. Sophie was disgusted by that. It was very predictable how that reunion would go. Elke would swiftly learn that Sophie wasn’t going to get rich by going to the Olympics and then it would be going right back to how it had been before. Now it would only be worse because Sophie knew that wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
At the same time it was like what her friend Annett had to say about the woman who was her biological half-sister who she had learned was incarcerated in Oranienburg. Nan had said that until she confronted the daughter and enabler of her mother’s rapist, she felt that couldn’t truly move with her life. All Sophie knew was that if she never saw her mother again it would be too soon.
28th May 1976
Köpenick, Berlin
The new fingerless cycling gloves were a crocheted black mesh on the back with a double layer of leather on the front protecting Sophie’s hands and reducing the shock felt through the handlebars. Aunt Marcella had given them to her. She had told Sophie that she wanted to see her wow the entire world when Sophie wore them in Montreal in July. That had been the high point of the week and Sophie was glad that she had them as she rode her bicycle up the cracked asphalt of the road to the top of the hill. Sprocket was riding in his basket that had been reattached to the front cargo rack. The slow progress upward didn’t interest him. He preferred when Sophie was riding fast so that he could have his nose in the wind.
Today, she was on her ride to the top of Müggelberge and back, something that she did often because she enjoyed it. Visiting the ruins of the old observation tower and restaurant in the middle of the forest was a nice change from the frenetic movement that defined Berlin. Recently, the forested range of hills had been declared a National Park, protecting it from development. This was not without controversy as it was seen as further closing off the borders of the City of Berlin. The outward expansion of the city was increasing being limited by such efforts. Sophie didn’t mind though. It gave her a nice place to ride to and the final climb was one of the few that she found much a of challenge.
The State had torn down the old observation tower to keep people from climbing it even if it was unsafe several years earlier, so Sophie could only imagine what the view must have been like. She could only catch glimpses of the river on one side, the lake on the other, and the City to the north-west through the trees. When she arrived at the tower, she unclipped Sprocket from the leash that held him into his basket and lifted him out. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he started sniffing everything in sight. Many people in this neighborhood walked their dogs here, so there were probably a lot of things for him to smell.
Sitting on the weathered concrete of the tower, Sophie was admiring the view as she listened to the sound of distant traffic on the wind and the birdsong from the trees. Everything was distant here, which was far better than her daily life. It was her life which was the problem. When the story about her riding in the Berlin-Kiel-Berlin Audax came out there had been a sudden amount of interest in Sophie’s life. It had only taken journalists a short amount of time to learn about her childhood. The worst part was they had interviewed her teacher who had described exactly what she had seen. She described Sophie as this poor little girl wearing old, tattered clothes and always seemed to have unexplained bruises. That much was the truth, but why had she felt the need to mention the food? How the teacher had known that Sophie had stolen pieces of fruit or bread from her when she thought no one was looking and that she had left it within easy reach quite deliberately. Sophie didn’t want people to know of that part of her life.
Sprocket jumped up onto the foundation in an astonishing feat because it was considerably taller than him at and lay down at Sophie’s side. If only more people could be like Sprocket who never judged Sophie nor asked probing questions. Sophie knew that it was only a matter of time before some enterprising journalist tracked down her mother and not be aware of how destructive and manipulative she was. That would be dreadful as it was all too easy to see the sort of narrative that people would glom on to. While Sophie’s mother only shared a similar name as one adopted by a famous actress’ stage name as a coincidence, she was all too good at putting on a show. How she was poor and put upon, how her only daughter had refused to talk to her for years. The public would eat that up and press for reconciliation. Sophie knew full well that it would all be performative at best. In the movies or on television, people like Elke Sommers got their just deserts. This was real life though, so she had done well in the years since Sophie had been removed from her custody at the request of the Princess Royal and the former Empress. Sophie was disgusted by that. It was very predictable how that reunion would go. Elke would swiftly learn that Sophie wasn’t going to get rich by going to the Olympics and then it would be going right back to how it had been before. Now it would only be worse because Sophie knew that wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
At the same time it was like what her friend Annett had to say about the woman who was her biological half-sister who she had learned was incarcerated in Oranienburg. Nan had said that until she confronted the daughter and enabler of her mother’s rapist, she felt that couldn’t truly move with her life. All Sophie knew was that if she never saw her mother again it would be too soon.
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