The Rainbow. A World War One on Canada's West Coast Timeline
- Thread starter YYJ
- Start date
British Columbia at this time is awash with all the material equipment and manpower to rebuild railway lines ,docks,trestles and move trains by barge .the smelting machinery would be harder to replace.
Trashing the coast would just add more problems to raising an army.Already had too many volunteers and not enough equipment or instructors.
Trashing the coast would just add more problems to raising an army.Already had too many volunteers and not enough equipment or instructors.
That is assuming several things. First of all, there isn't either the time or manpower to make many of Sherman's Neckties. Sherman had both time and plenty of men.
Even if they do make some, will they know that they need to twist the rail as well as bend it, or the rail can just be reheated and straightened.
And he had much more time. Even so, a lot of the rails weren't done right, and could be straightened.
Nürnberg's complement according to Wikipedia, which is the number I am using, is 14 officers and 308 enlisted men. Janes Fighting Ships says 295, but it is useful to have more guys, for tasks like prize crews.
I remember reading that too, but now I can't find the reference. I think it was either Emden or Konigsberg.
HMS Shearwater and HMS Algerine started out with 12 x 4 inch QF guns and 8 x 3 pdr. QF guns between them. ITTL and OTL , 2 of the 4 inch guns have been mounted at Siwash Rock in Vancouver. ITTL, 6 more of the 4 inch guns have been landed in Esquimal and stored, for possible use as shore batteries. The sloops each retain one pair of 4 inch guns. Esquimalt and Victoria, of course, retain their OTL 1890s coastal defence batteries.
All directions at once
Aug 17, 0530. Anyox BC.
The morning shift at Anyox mill and port, on a normal Monday, would have started at 0600. This was not a normal day. The workers and their families had been instructed to stay home, but the communication had been haphazard. Some workers figured this did not apply to them. Some considered this to be a holiday. Some had been talking with their neighbors about what was to be done, and fighting the occupiers was a topic warranting much discussion. A few smelter workers woke up from a two-day bender and grabbed their lunchboxes.
With a few exceptions, the Nürnberg’s crew had not penetrated far into the town yesterday, and some townsfolk had not even seen a German. But all could see the three funnels of the cruiser wharfside, and that German flag on the mast of the cruiser and the Prince Rupert. Kitchens and boot rooms were abuzz with conversation of what they should do, and what would happen that day.
At 0545, conversation stopped as a series of simultaneous explosions rocked the town. Many different stories were told about that morning. Some swear to this day that the cruiser shelled the town. Some placed German sabotage teams where none could possibly be. Some swore that the Chinese and Japanese workers were in on the destruction. But most townfolk agreed that the chaos of explosions seemed to come from all directions at once.
The morning shift at Anyox mill and port, on a normal Monday, would have started at 0600. This was not a normal day. The workers and their families had been instructed to stay home, but the communication had been haphazard. Some workers figured this did not apply to them. Some considered this to be a holiday. Some had been talking with their neighbors about what was to be done, and fighting the occupiers was a topic warranting much discussion. A few smelter workers woke up from a two-day bender and grabbed their lunchboxes.
With a few exceptions, the Nürnberg’s crew had not penetrated far into the town yesterday, and some townsfolk had not even seen a German. But all could see the three funnels of the cruiser wharfside, and that German flag on the mast of the cruiser and the Prince Rupert. Kitchens and boot rooms were abuzz with conversation of what they should do, and what would happen that day.
At 0545, conversation stopped as a series of simultaneous explosions rocked the town. Many different stories were told about that morning. Some swear to this day that the cruiser shelled the town. Some placed German sabotage teams where none could possibly be. Some swore that the Chinese and Japanese workers were in on the destruction. But most townfolk agreed that the chaos of explosions seemed to come from all directions at once.
Giant orange mushroom cloud
Aug 17, 0545. SMS Nürnberg, Anyox BC.
Captain Von Schönberg did not see chaos. He saw the unfolding of a pattern being laid out across the town. Watching from the open bridge of the Nürnberg, the mill-hazy sky was still dark enough that the streetlights shone, but just bright enough for him to follow the second hand of his watch as it swept toward 0545. Nothing happened. He would have to have a talk with his officers about their watches. Then a series of flashes came from the direction of the smelter, and a giant orange mushroom cloud rose skyward. Von Schönberg felt the concussion. The booms of the explosions reached his ears, and then repeated as they echoed off various cliffs and mountains. Gulls rose from the docks and circled in a panic calling wildly.
Another series of explosions lit the hillside and buildings, but cast Smith Bluff in dark silhouette. That would be Krüger and the Roundhouse. North of the Smelter, he noticed some trees and industrial buildings had caught fire. The tug Czar with a Nürnberg prize crew, had towed its barge to the middle of Granby Bay, and so was clear when the charges went off on the legs of the walking gantries. The Dynamite charges flashed, dust and debris flew, and then slowly the first gantry, then the second, leaned forward and fell into the bay, raising a tremendous splash. The third gantry hesitated, and then squatted in a funny way, like a three legged dog. The sound of explosions was almost constant now as new blasts and multiple echoes syncopated across the water.
More blasts came from over by the smelter. Lieutenant Adler would be backing towards his boats and setting off charges as he went. Just ahead, Prince Rupert cast off from the wharf and turned out into the bay. The tarpaulins had been removed from her weapons and the gun crews carefully watched the shore. Hauptbootsmann Krüger’s force appeared around the point of Smith Bluff on their tiny train. The men at the walking beam were pumping with a gusto Von Schönberg had never seen before. Through his binoculars, to his amusement, the shore party looked like one of those mechanical processions in a clock tower in Bavaria.
Krüger’s arrival back at the wharf would signal the withdrawl of all except the arsonists of Lange’s team. Nürnberg was ready to cast off, so the wharf could be set on fire, and the cordon of guards had been drawn back to the two plank road access points. Two steam powered boats waited beside the wharf to embark Lange’s men when they had lit their fuses. For all their effort, Krüger’s train was moving painfully slowly.
On the wharf extension beside the General Store, Captain Von Schönberg could see figures moving about. A crowd was forming and moving towards the main wharf. There were only two guards with rifles making the cordon at this location. A man came forward from the crowd, gesturing with his arms toward Nürnberg. Von Schönberg looked through his binoculars, and saw it was townsite manager Hiram Karlsson. He was weeping. “Go home Karlsson,” said Von Schönberg to himself. Karlson began shouting and waving his arms, apparently giving a speech. If this was a penny dreadful novel, then Karlsson and Von Schönberg would have had this confrontation mano-a-mano on the dock, possibly surrounded by flames, and one would speak so passionately and eloquently that the other would submit. Or, they would fight a duel. As it was, the guards ordered Karlsson to go back. When that didn’t work they pushed him with the flat of their rifles. When that didn’t work they each grabbed him by an arm and dragged him towards the town. Something bounced off the dock. The crowd was throwing rocks at the guards. One was hit and stumbled.
Nürberg sounded her siren. “Move away from the docks!” ordered Von Schönberg through his loud hailer. “Move away from the docks or we will fire!”
Von Schönberg was concerned, it looked like he was losing control of the situation. He lowered his loudhailer and ordered the Spandau gunner in the searchlight platform above to prepare to fire over the heads of the crowd on his signal.
Captain Von Schönberg did not see chaos. He saw the unfolding of a pattern being laid out across the town. Watching from the open bridge of the Nürnberg, the mill-hazy sky was still dark enough that the streetlights shone, but just bright enough for him to follow the second hand of his watch as it swept toward 0545. Nothing happened. He would have to have a talk with his officers about their watches. Then a series of flashes came from the direction of the smelter, and a giant orange mushroom cloud rose skyward. Von Schönberg felt the concussion. The booms of the explosions reached his ears, and then repeated as they echoed off various cliffs and mountains. Gulls rose from the docks and circled in a panic calling wildly.
Another series of explosions lit the hillside and buildings, but cast Smith Bluff in dark silhouette. That would be Krüger and the Roundhouse. North of the Smelter, he noticed some trees and industrial buildings had caught fire. The tug Czar with a Nürnberg prize crew, had towed its barge to the middle of Granby Bay, and so was clear when the charges went off on the legs of the walking gantries. The Dynamite charges flashed, dust and debris flew, and then slowly the first gantry, then the second, leaned forward and fell into the bay, raising a tremendous splash. The third gantry hesitated, and then squatted in a funny way, like a three legged dog. The sound of explosions was almost constant now as new blasts and multiple echoes syncopated across the water.
More blasts came from over by the smelter. Lieutenant Adler would be backing towards his boats and setting off charges as he went. Just ahead, Prince Rupert cast off from the wharf and turned out into the bay. The tarpaulins had been removed from her weapons and the gun crews carefully watched the shore. Hauptbootsmann Krüger’s force appeared around the point of Smith Bluff on their tiny train. The men at the walking beam were pumping with a gusto Von Schönberg had never seen before. Through his binoculars, to his amusement, the shore party looked like one of those mechanical processions in a clock tower in Bavaria.
Krüger’s arrival back at the wharf would signal the withdrawl of all except the arsonists of Lange’s team. Nürnberg was ready to cast off, so the wharf could be set on fire, and the cordon of guards had been drawn back to the two plank road access points. Two steam powered boats waited beside the wharf to embark Lange’s men when they had lit their fuses. For all their effort, Krüger’s train was moving painfully slowly.
On the wharf extension beside the General Store, Captain Von Schönberg could see figures moving about. A crowd was forming and moving towards the main wharf. There were only two guards with rifles making the cordon at this location. A man came forward from the crowd, gesturing with his arms toward Nürnberg. Von Schönberg looked through his binoculars, and saw it was townsite manager Hiram Karlsson. He was weeping. “Go home Karlsson,” said Von Schönberg to himself. Karlson began shouting and waving his arms, apparently giving a speech. If this was a penny dreadful novel, then Karlsson and Von Schönberg would have had this confrontation mano-a-mano on the dock, possibly surrounded by flames, and one would speak so passionately and eloquently that the other would submit. Or, they would fight a duel. As it was, the guards ordered Karlsson to go back. When that didn’t work they pushed him with the flat of their rifles. When that didn’t work they each grabbed him by an arm and dragged him towards the town. Something bounced off the dock. The crowd was throwing rocks at the guards. One was hit and stumbled.
Nürberg sounded her siren. “Move away from the docks!” ordered Von Schönberg through his loud hailer. “Move away from the docks or we will fire!”
Von Schönberg was concerned, it looked like he was losing control of the situation. He lowered his loudhailer and ordered the Spandau gunner in the searchlight platform above to prepare to fire over the heads of the crowd on his signal.
Driftless
Donor
Anger may well overcome logic for those on shore. So far, the demolition has gone according to plan, but now folks are seeing their livelihoods being blown up, so any reaction is possible.
The Germans have accomplished their primary missions - coaling and demolition; but the end game may get very messy.
The Germans have accomplished their primary missions - coaling and demolition; but the end game may get very messy.
Sparks and clinkers
Aug 17, 0555. SMS Nürnberg, Anyox BC.
A dense set of blasts sounded from the direction of the smelter. All the crowd turned to look. Seconds later there was another set of blasts, and the town lights all flickered and went out. The morning light was now enough to see, but everyone’s eyes took a moment to adjust.
Into this scene, Krüger’s train rolled onto the wharf in front of Nürnberg. The walking beam was still still squeaking. The men jumped off onto the wharf deck before the little train came to a stop. They prepared to run to board the cruiser, as per the mission plan. Von Schönberg called through his loadhailer “Hauptbootsmann Krüger! Form a line!” This was not what the party was expecting, but Krüger quickly caught on, and had the men form a skirmish line facing the town. Still calling through his loudhailer, the captain ordered, “Fix bayonets! Stabbootsman Lange. Destroy the barges!” This was also a change. The plan had been to wait until all were at a safe distance, but the citizens of Anyox were forcing his hand. Von Schönberg saw men walking across the cargoes of the rafted barges, lighting short fuses.
The guards who had dragged Karlsson away moved back towards the Nürnberg, one holding his head. Von Schönberg ordered the searchlights turned on and aimed at the wharf. All shadows were banished. The crown of townsfolk were now brightly lit, and staring into the powerful searchlight glare. Von Schönberg saw fewer in the crowd than he expected, perhaps fifty. They hesitated. Momentum has shifted back to the occupiers.
The fuses had burned down on the coal barges, and instead of igniting an explosive charge, a bundle of flares was ignited. These burned with a fierce red light, and in concert with the searchlights, cast everything not brightly lit back into night. After a few moments, tongues of blue flame snaked out onto the piles of coal as the fuel oil took light. This ignition was slow but inexorable.
“Stand clear!” shouted Stabbootsman Lange. His men were lighting fuses on the row of empty barges, starting with the outermost and moving towards shore. They lit fuses on three barges and then the small steamer Amur. As the men stepped off of the Amur onto the wharf, the first barge detonated, this time with explosives. The demolitions men had been efficient. There was a dull krump, a small spray of debris, and the barge immediately began to settle. This repeated. The third barge produced a larger blast, which threw pieces of timber and barge hardware onto the wharf, the Nürnberg’s after deck, and the roof of the General Store. Germans and Canadians alike ducked and covered their heads. This seemed to be enough for the dockside crowd, and they dispersed back towards the town, hoping to avoid other larger explosions. The Amur shook, half her windows blew out, and the she began to settle as well.
By now the coal barges had really caught, and the smell and black smoke was wafting across Nürnberg. Done with the vessels, Lange’s men began to saturate the wharf deck with fuel oil. Two men took flexible refueling hoses, opened the taps, and laid a stream of oil around the wharf top, casually and methodically, like they were watering their gardens. Another four men each opened the tops of 45 gallon fuel drums, tipped them over, and rolled the barrels down the dock, with the oil chugging out the fill holes. A solitary woman from the town, who looked like she could have been a school teacher, stood on the land at a distance and watched. She shook her head slowly from side to side in disapproval.
Over at the smelter, the windows were all backlit with an orange glow. A fire was clearly taking hold inside. On the wharf, the fire from the coal barges was throwing sparks and clinkers, and the oil on the dock started to catch fire without Lange’s men having to light it. The Nürnberg’s funnels were pumping out smoke and steam, impatient to leave.
Von Schönberg signaled from the bridge wing for the men to come back on board. First Lange’s demolition team, then Krüger’s rearguard, then the original contingent that had made the guard cordon on the wharf. Deckhands cast off, and as the last man stepped aboard, Nürnberg pulled away from the wharf. The men all saluted toward towards the bridge. Hauptbootsmann Krüger’s boot was on fire. He soon noticed and stamped it out on the deck.
A dense set of blasts sounded from the direction of the smelter. All the crowd turned to look. Seconds later there was another set of blasts, and the town lights all flickered and went out. The morning light was now enough to see, but everyone’s eyes took a moment to adjust.
Into this scene, Krüger’s train rolled onto the wharf in front of Nürnberg. The walking beam was still still squeaking. The men jumped off onto the wharf deck before the little train came to a stop. They prepared to run to board the cruiser, as per the mission plan. Von Schönberg called through his loadhailer “Hauptbootsmann Krüger! Form a line!” This was not what the party was expecting, but Krüger quickly caught on, and had the men form a skirmish line facing the town. Still calling through his loudhailer, the captain ordered, “Fix bayonets! Stabbootsman Lange. Destroy the barges!” This was also a change. The plan had been to wait until all were at a safe distance, but the citizens of Anyox were forcing his hand. Von Schönberg saw men walking across the cargoes of the rafted barges, lighting short fuses.
The guards who had dragged Karlsson away moved back towards the Nürnberg, one holding his head. Von Schönberg ordered the searchlights turned on and aimed at the wharf. All shadows were banished. The crown of townsfolk were now brightly lit, and staring into the powerful searchlight glare. Von Schönberg saw fewer in the crowd than he expected, perhaps fifty. They hesitated. Momentum has shifted back to the occupiers.
The fuses had burned down on the coal barges, and instead of igniting an explosive charge, a bundle of flares was ignited. These burned with a fierce red light, and in concert with the searchlights, cast everything not brightly lit back into night. After a few moments, tongues of blue flame snaked out onto the piles of coal as the fuel oil took light. This ignition was slow but inexorable.
“Stand clear!” shouted Stabbootsman Lange. His men were lighting fuses on the row of empty barges, starting with the outermost and moving towards shore. They lit fuses on three barges and then the small steamer Amur. As the men stepped off of the Amur onto the wharf, the first barge detonated, this time with explosives. The demolitions men had been efficient. There was a dull krump, a small spray of debris, and the barge immediately began to settle. This repeated. The third barge produced a larger blast, which threw pieces of timber and barge hardware onto the wharf, the Nürnberg’s after deck, and the roof of the General Store. Germans and Canadians alike ducked and covered their heads. This seemed to be enough for the dockside crowd, and they dispersed back towards the town, hoping to avoid other larger explosions. The Amur shook, half her windows blew out, and the she began to settle as well.
By now the coal barges had really caught, and the smell and black smoke was wafting across Nürnberg. Done with the vessels, Lange’s men began to saturate the wharf deck with fuel oil. Two men took flexible refueling hoses, opened the taps, and laid a stream of oil around the wharf top, casually and methodically, like they were watering their gardens. Another four men each opened the tops of 45 gallon fuel drums, tipped them over, and rolled the barrels down the dock, with the oil chugging out the fill holes. A solitary woman from the town, who looked like she could have been a school teacher, stood on the land at a distance and watched. She shook her head slowly from side to side in disapproval.
Over at the smelter, the windows were all backlit with an orange glow. A fire was clearly taking hold inside. On the wharf, the fire from the coal barges was throwing sparks and clinkers, and the oil on the dock started to catch fire without Lange’s men having to light it. The Nürnberg’s funnels were pumping out smoke and steam, impatient to leave.
Von Schönberg signaled from the bridge wing for the men to come back on board. First Lange’s demolition team, then Krüger’s rearguard, then the original contingent that had made the guard cordon on the wharf. Deckhands cast off, and as the last man stepped aboard, Nürnberg pulled away from the wharf. The men all saluted toward towards the bridge. Hauptbootsmann Krüger’s boot was on fire. He soon noticed and stamped it out on the deck.