If you have never seen or heard a helicopter before, how in the heck are you going to know that it is underpowered? You have no frame of reference.

What exactly does this mean? Most countries can only assert their sovereignty by acting belligerent.
You can tell just from the size and sound of the aircraft that it is under powered,they are on Guam, where there are major air bases and many of the Navy and Marine officers have served either on aircraft carriers or other air bases.
Also there are probably more than a few officers who are in the engineering career path and I am pretty sure that they can figure out from experience on how much power the helicopters engines are producing.
Another thing helicopters are not a secret, the reason that the United States does not have helicopters is while Sikorsky and Bell Aircraft have prototypes, they have not solved the problem of producing enough power to make it commercially viable, remember the United States is not at war and the main thrust of the aircraft industry is geared to the commercial market.

As for the United States asserting their sovereignty, well that is something for the diplomats to figure out and for me to punt to the other readers on this timeline to answer.


I rather think @FBKampfer means under the pressure faced by the doctors of a MASH unit, like the sheer quantity of wounded, the triage (basically letting some of the men that can't or just might be saved to die and concentrate on the ones that have better chances), the number of lost patients, operating as long as possible as fast as possible etc., rather than simple the medical knowledge.
She's probably a capable doctor in her own specialization, but from what I remember Peter Holtz has been a field medic in every European war after WW1, with a side specialization in psychiatry, in which his main field of interest is shell shock, a more specialized area of what was later known as PTSD. So it's quite understandable that he doesn't have an in-depth knowledge of what she's railing at him for.


Tangerman has all the luxeries of being a civilian doctor. Well lit operating theater, surgical lights she can point wherever she wants, ample support staff, x-ray machines right down the hall, patients going into surgery without imminent risk of death, high chances of a good prognosis likey no more than two surgeries on the worst of days, people to take her place if she's too tired, and time.

Tangerman has it incredibly easy, and she has no idea how easy she has it, just as Peter has no real idea how much he's simply overlooking.

I'm sure they're both excellent doctors in their own rights, they just have very different experiences, little true understanding of how the others experiences have shaped who they are, and their abilities.
The KLM should know that most of their food that they are eating comes from the United States, most of the fuel for their ships and aircraft comes from the United States, the KLM in the Pacific is getting most of their supplies from the United States because it was cheaper and easier than importing them from Europe and the United States is the only nation that can produce and transport in large quantities and before anybody jumps on me, consider that IOTL Australia and New Zealand were dependent on the United States to supply their forces, and IOTL the Dutch East Indies did not have the oil refinery capacity to supply several fleets in a continuous combat operations.

We must remember that Japan has had to use their own ships on the "Manila Express" to get the commodities they bought, Germany and the Allies having control of the seas their supplies are being brought directly to them by American and neutral flagged ships to the port of Freemantle, and other Allied controlled ports.

Now the ammunition and other military items are coming from the Allies home countries and everything that is not directly related to combat that doesn't need to shipped from home means that there is more room to ship the combat related items.
Chapter Four Hundred Thirty-Three

15th November 1944

Tilo had a new sword but he preferred the bolo he carried with him since he had left Cuxhaven, a lifetime ago. The sword itself was a thing of beauty, it had been carried by a Japanese General when they had stormed the Garrison Headquarters on the first day. He’d drawn his sword intending to make a last stand against the MA. No one ever accused the Japanese of not having balls but Tilo’s outfit didn’t have time for that sort of theatrics. So Tilo had stepped inside the swing of the sword knocked out the General with the butt of his rifle. The last they had seen of the General he’d been hog tied with an extremely pissed look on his face as they had loaded him onto a helicopter and Tilo had all the replacements looking at him in awe.

Tilo and the General's sword, the perfect metaphor for TTL's Pacific war.
General pulls out an heirloom that's been in his family for hundreds of years and Tilo buttstrokes him with an issue rifle.
Part 36, Chapter 438
Chapter Four Hundred Thirty-Eight

27th November 1944


The radio traffic from the German Fleet, the Marine and Army elements was an odd mix. At a tactical level they were fine broadcasting in the clear using only the most rudimentary level of security that boiled down to slang and jargon. That had allowed the OSS listening post on Guam to follow the battle of Saipan. However, above that level it was the maddening burst transmissions that as far as George knew no one had come close to being able to decipher. Then the Commander of the Naval Garrison on Guam had invited the Commander of the German Fleet detachment to dinner. This Vice Admiral Canaris had arrived suddenly in the four helicopters bringing his aides and a platoon of some extremely rough looking men. It was said that they were the German Navy’s answer to the SKA.

As George had watched one of them had chased off Jason Wilson and James McPherson with just a quiet word which showed him to be a professional. A pair of 12-year-olds wouldn’t be seen as much of a threat but some of the Marine Noncoms, including their own fathers, would probably not be shy about giving them the boot to speed them on their way. The rank epaulets that this man wore on the shoulder straps of his vest said that he was a Sergeant. He then turned at looked right at George who had thought that he wouldn’t be visible looking out through the screened in second floor balcony before walking back to the helicopters.


“We’re being watched” Tilo said to Reier.

“No shit, Kid” Reier replied.

“No, I mean the whole Division, the Fleet, everything” Tilo said as he pointed over his shoulder at the building with his thumb to where he’d seen the American Officer peeking out at them, “That building has way too many aerials, even for the radio room of a garrison like this one.”

“Spook city” Reier said. He had a soldier’s disdain of spies. He was perfectly aware of the fact that his own nation employed them, but skulking around in the shadows was cowardly.

“Yeah, looks like it” Tilo replied.

With that there was nothing more to say. The two of them stood around on the bare earth of the Parade Ground. They had already been rotated through the Americans Enlisted Mess to get a proper meal. That was the real reason that they had volunteered to go on this tail chase in the first place. Now they were waiting for the Admiral to finish meeting with the Americans so they could go back to Saipan. The rub was that they had been ordered not to drink any alcohol while on Guam. It was a hot day, like every other day in the tropics, and no beer, that was just uncivilized. It might have been boredom but Tilo had a thought.

“Want to have some fun?” Tilo asked, “Get out of sun for a few minutes?”

“What’ve you got in mind?” Reier asked in reply, mindful that Tilo’s idea of fun was very different from his.

“Just follow my lead and back me up” Tilo said as he started walking towards the building.


When George looked out again two of the German Marines were gone, including the one who had been talking to the kids earlier.

“We were wondering if you needed any help?” A voice called up from the stairs. George looked and saw a face with an easy grin looking up at him. “Any questions you need answered.”

With that the two of them came walking up the stairs. George realized that if they made it to the top of the stairs they would see the wall charts. The entire OSS mission would be exposed. He started down the stairs to try to head that off.

“That’s far enough” George said aware of the panic in his voice. Up close he could see that they had the Australian made, Belgian pattern rifles that German Marines tended to be armed with slung over their shoulders and that they were 3rd Division Sealions. They were the ones who had had sprung an extremely nasty surprise on the Command Staff of the Japanese 43rd Infantry Division in first hours of the Battle of Saipan.

“Is there something up there that we aren’t supposed to see?” The German Noncom asked.

“No” George said.

“You say that but the way you are acting says otherwise” The Noncom said.

“Is there a problem, Ensign Bush!” Lieutenant Commander Sinclair, the head of the OSS mission yelled from his office. In about thirty seconds there was going to be a serious problem if George couldn’t either stop the Germans from coming up or Sinclair from coming down.

“Dammit” George said, “Just go away, there is nothing for you to see here.”

“I think that I’ll be the judge of that” The German Noncom said.

“You can’t go up there without getting me in deep shit” George said, “What will it take to get you to turn around and pretend you were never here?”

“Now, you are talking” The Noncom said with an evil grin.


Reier couldn’t speak a word of English but even he could tell that this American Naval Officer was the sort that infested the rear echelons of every military in the world. A weasel in human form and judging by the way that the conversation had turned, Tilo had him by the balls.

A few minutes later they took possession of several cases of beer that had obviously just come from the cooler that they loaded onto their chopper. More than enough for them and their Squad. They couldn’t drink while on Guam but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t have beer on the flight back to Saipan. Reier had to hand it to Tilo.
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I'm actually kinda curious where a guy who might be related to me (Same last name, died from suicide like my grandmother's brother in probably the same time period) is.

He also was OSS/CIA, in fact, helped run the OPC, so it's plausible we could be seeing him.
Peabody-Martini strikes again with another patented cameo, this will change the George H W Bush narrative of being the youngest pilot in the United States Navy.
Going back and forth on this timeline, I just realized that GHWB like JFK is another son with a disgraced father from the Spanish Civil War, Prescott Bush.
Part 36, Chapter 439
Chapter Four Hundred Thirty-Nine

29th November 1944


It was supposed to be the house’s formal dining room but Kat and Gerta had other ideas. Kat had started it but Gerta had agreed with her that it was perfect for an exercise/training area. The room itself was unadorned with a thick rug covering the hardwood floor. All that was allowed was a few chairs and a table just large enough to hold a record player. It was on one of those chairs that Helene was sitting on watching Gerta as she was practicing her dance warmups and Helene was wondering how she could possibly bend her spine around like that. Were there no actual bones in her upper body? At the same time Helene was happy to see Gerta returning to her old frivolous self. She had been moping around for weeks but had finally started to come out of it and this morning decided that she needed to give her joints a proper stretch. Helene could also hear Petia sweeping in the hallway over the Django Reinhardt Orchestra record that was playing.

“I couldn’t imagine going to the beach wearing that” Gerta said, “You might as well be starkers.”

She was referring to the catalog addressed to the house’s previous tenant that had arrived in the mail the day before, Helene was currently flipping through it. It had featured the latest fashions from Paris and that included swimwear that was more than a little risqué. Of course, Helene knew better than to point out that what Gerta was wearing was only slightly more modest but only because the amount of cloth in question. She already knew what Gerta would say, that it was different. It was designed to show off a dancer’s body and that was art.

“And I couldn’t wear most of this anyway” Helene replied, “The cut is for women who are much taller than me.”

It had been Helene’s problem since she had realized in late adolescence that she was as tall as she was ever going to get and that was still well below average. It had taken one look at her parents to realize that heredity had pulled some terrible tricks on her. They were both relatively short and then there was her father’s nose… It was enough to make her want to scream about the absolute injustice.

“Imagine wrapping a ribbon around a stick” Gerta said in response.

Helene figured that was true enough. Gerta was tall and thin but that was the extent of her dimensions. Petia had entered the room and was looking in the corners for cobwebs that might have appeared since the last time she had swept a few days earlier.

“Ask Frau Fydorova what she thinks” Gerta said with an impish smile.

“Don’t be a brat” Helene replied.

“What I think about what?” Petia asked.

“We got this catalog yesterday” Helene said holding it up for her to see.

To Helene’s amazement the Russian woman busted up laughing. “Before I had a few babies I could have worn that” She said, “But that was a long time ago.”

“Really?” Both Helene and Gerta asked in surprised unison.

“Is it really a surprise that back when I was younger I was the one who all the boys wanted to dance with?” Petia asked with a wistful smile.

Both Gerta and Helene had a hard time picturing that. Petia seemed to personify the term “rode hard and put away wet.” The chain smoking and the alcohol tolerance of a dock worker didn’t help.

“You know who could pull that look off” Petia said, “Katya could.”

“She would never wear that” Helene said, “Not in a thousand years.”

Petia just shrugged and went back to her housework.

“Did she just suggest what I think she did?” Gerta asked in shocked amazement.


“Let this be a lesson to you, son” Jason’s Dad had said to him, “Just because someone’s an officer doesn’t mean that they’ve got more brains than your average doorknob.”

Over the last couple days word had spread around that Ensign Bush had been played by a German Sergeant. The German Noncom had to have known what was in that building. All Bush would have needed to have done was order him to leave and he would have done it in order to avoid an incident. Instead he had failed to do that and the Noncom had pounced. Fortunately, all that had happened was that the Germans had absconded with several cases of beer and left the Navy with wounded pride. Dad hadn’t even mentioned that he and Jimmy had been chased off by the same German Noncom just a few minutes earlier.


In spite of the Company’s best efforts they had still not managed to break one of the new rifle stocks until Jost had disassembled a rifle and had a SPz-2 drive over it, reducing it to powder, fibers and aluminum bits. Needless to say, the Brass was furious that Jost had pulled a stunt like that but he was totally unrepentant. “They said it’s unbreakable but they would be wrong” Jost had said. He was now on guard duty and would be for the next few weeks ironically while holding a rifle that was the barrel and action of the same one he’d destroyed that had been placed in a new stock. The aluminum frame that everything else was mounted to had made replacing it a snap.

The Brass also wanted to know his opinion of the cartridge and the scope mount. The cartridge had proven useful enough, shooting flat out to three hundred meters made it easy enough to hit targets. The 7.5 Gram FMJ-BT bullets had done disturbing things to a pig carcass that they had shot at a hundred meters, passing right through and hardly slowing down. There were rumors flying around that in the next war they would be faced with enemies wearing armored vests like the ones they wore and the new cartridge had been designed with that in mind.

The other thing was that there was a rail on the left side of the receiver of every one of the new rifles that could be used to mount a scope. They had only seen a few of the scopes. It was said that they had only needed to be set once, after that windage and holdovers were pre-marked on the reticle in what was said to be “Japanese” style. Hans still trying to figure out just how useful the things actually were.
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He was in the CIA in OTL, so why not?

Correct, but his being a navy pilot (In a TBF Avenger, I think) is what came immediately to my mind.

Also, this new rifle of the Germans, is it similar to a HK G3?

I would also think that Brass would know better than to tell a soldier that something is unbreakable. In my experience, that is taken as a personal challenge.
Correct, but his being a navy pilot (In a TBF Avenger, I think) is what came immediately to my mind.

Also, this new rifle of the Germans, is it similar to a HK G3?

I would also think that Brass would know better than to tell a soldier that something is unbreakable. In my experience, that is taken as a personal challenge.

Oh, the Brass knows this, but the Tech Rep had a big mouth and the Brass was pissed off because of the screaming of the civilians. The war is almost over so money will be tight in the next ten years.