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Post by cv10 on Mar 23, 2018 11:56:43 GMT -6
For shame! Commander Houstoun missed the four good British reasons from HMS Laforey. (Also, because I find it amusing: If you take the way the game reports things literally, HMS Oriole recovered a total of 2,601 survivors, of whom 321 came from the British destroyer Laforey, complement ~70. That'd be quite the human pyramid on Oriole's deck, I think.) Anyways, good work giving the Kaiserliche Marine yet another bloody nose. Shame about King George V, though. Thanks! That's what I get for not re-reading the log! I thought it was pretty funny that they "rescued" so many people. I have no idea if it would have even been possible to cram 463 people onto HMS Oriole IRL. I think once it started picking up survivors, it couldn't stop.
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Post by cv10 on Mar 23, 2018 12:00:52 GMT -6
Tactical hint: Going at max speed tends to make the formations fall apart. I think the AI of the trailing divisions sees they are out of position, and calculates that they are unable to catch up, so they start acting independently. If you set your fleet speed to 18-19 knots (since the slowest are 20kt), your divisions will keep station better. Good job on the victory. Are you getting close to the VP's needed to win? I'll have to try that in the next engagement. I was worried about the Germans getting away, and speed became the primary factor. I got lucky that it was only 6 battleships. The HSF might have been able to exploit how badly my formation got out of wack. Thanks! That last engagement was a huge swing in my favor: (about -500,000 points for the Germans and about +500,000 for me) so I'm just over half the way to 3,500,000 million points. When I started this game, it was accidentally left in Captain's mode, so all vp get the 20% hit, but there's plenty of Germans left to destroy.
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Post by garrisonchisholm on Mar 23, 2018 12:52:58 GMT -6
That is astounding! Three Cheers for Commander Houstoun!!!
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Post by cv10 on Jun 13, 2018 19:25:11 GMT -6
Rowley was pacing in front of his office’s fireplace as his new secretary furiously scribbled to keep up with what he was saying. The news up from Harwich had not been good. A cruiser force from the Harwich Force had engaged a squadron of German cruisers and destroyers that had raided the East Coast. The Germans had lost three cruisers and twelve destroyers, but three of Tyrwhitt’s cruisers and eight destroyers had been sunk. It had been a marginally favorable outcome for the Harwich Force, but no one felt like calling a victory. What was worse was that few men had survived to be picked up, including the Commodore of the force. So many well-trained and experienced hands had been lost, and trying to plug the gap had not been easy. “Upon receipt of these orders,” Rowley said. “You shall detach two of the 28-knot cruisers under your command to Harwich where they shall report to Admiral Tyrwhitt. I understand that the Battlecruiser Force must have a good screen of fast cruisers. However, the Harwich Force has achieved most of its success through the aggressive and capable use of light cruisers and destroyers, and I must replace these losses. I assure you that your command will have the next two light cruisers to join the fleet. Respectfully, Admiral Sir Arthur Rowley KG,” The secretary finished writing the order, and Rowley walked over and signed it. Beatty would not like losing cruisers to Tyrwhitt, but it was necessary. The Grand Fleet simply did not have any that could be spared. He had already given orders to consolidate the number of cruiser squadrons in the Harwich Force so that each squadron, with the replacements from the BCF, would have at least three ships. A knock at the door drew Rowley’s attention. Upon the command, “Enter,” Vice-Admiral Sands walked in. He looked immensely tense, and Rowley swore he could see a vein bulging in the man’s head. Sands saluted, and immediately began eyeing Rowley’s liquor cabinet, specifically a bottle of Jamaica rum that a friend in the Governor’s office had sent. “How was Mr. Romanov?” Rowley asked pleasantly. The moniker "Mr. Romanov" had become a popular term for the deposed Tsar, whose vanity was bigger than a QE-Class battleship. “Sir,” Sands began. “It would go much better if we could bring back flogging and conscript him into the Navy. He might be the only person, aside from the Kaiser, that a dozen at the gratings would do a world of good for,” “That bad?” Rowley asked. “He’s insufferable,” Sands replied. “He demands to go to London. He demands to go to Paris. He demands an audience with the King, the Prime Minister, the Secretary of State for War, and the First Lord. He complains that the Royal Marine guard is too small for a man of his stature. He complains that the house is cold, damp, and entirely unsuitable for the Imperial Family. He complains that the servants steal. He complains that he doesn’t have enough servants. He says the locals are not properly subservient. He wants the tenants forced off the neighboring land because they are ‘filthy peasants’. He complains that they will not yield to his carriage, and that the children throw manure at it. He says his Cossack bodyguards will shoot the next person who does that, regardless of age,” “He did?” Rowley asked, incredulous. “What did you say?” “I said if they did, they would be arrested and tried for murder,” Sands replied. “And most likely hanged. He did not seem to like that. It went downhill from there,” “What do you mean?” Rowley said, his head beginning to hurt in anticipation of the pain in the neck that this was going to be. “He began to curse me, the Royal Navy, and the whole country,” Sands replied. “He said it’s no wonder that every offensive we launch against the Germans ends up as a bloody failure, as the Germans are accustomed to harsh discipline and order, while we British are, I believe his exact meaning was, ‘a mollycoddled race of shopkeepers and criminals.’ I regret to say that my reaction to this was not well-considered,” “Oh God” Rowley said. “I asked what success his armies had had against the Germans. I pointed out that a squadron of Royal Navy cruisers had braved weather, submarines, and mines to rescue him and his family, and that for all of the faults of the democratic nations; none of us had been overthrown by popular discontent,” Rowley sat down at his desk and began to rub his temples. This was going to cause an enormous headache that would require a lot of letters and telegrams to London in order to get rid of. He figured that he had better get started as soon as possible. He’d have to break out his official tone for Sands. “Admiral Sands,” Rowley said. “I want you to write a report on exactly what happened. I will send another officer to the Romanov residence to interview any staff that might have overheard your exchange. In the meantime, you are to have no further contact with the Romanovs, on any level. However, this does not constitute any sort of action against you, and you will continue to act as my chief of staff unless or until the Admiralty orders otherwise,” “Yes Sir,” Sands replied. “You had best get to it,” Rowley said. “Though I would appreciate your company at dinner tomorrow night. The captains from the First Battle Squadron will be coming,” “Thank you sir,” Sands said. “I’d be honored.” Sands left, and Rowley turned to his secretary, still perched nearby. He took a deep breath. This was bad business, and he worried about the ramifications of it for Sands. The Tsar was not popular in any quarter, but insulting a former emperor and cousin of the King was still dangerous business. Immediate action would be required in order to keep the situation from getting out of hand, and certain people would have to be informed right away. With any luck, they might be sympathetic to Sands, and limit any official and unofficial action against him. Rowley knew where he had to start, and began to speak. “A new letter,” Rowley said. "Address to: His Majesty the King. Dear Sir, I am afraid that I must inform you of an exchange between His Imperial Majesty Nicholas II, and my Chief of Staff, a most worthy and invaluable officer whose services I cannot spare..."
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Post by cv10 on Jun 15, 2018 11:53:32 GMT -6
William Sims had the look of an academic to him as he enjoyed a fine brandy in one of the more comfortable sitting chairs in Rowley’s office. It seemed to Rowley that he would be more at home giving a lecture in a college hall than commanding a fleet of battleships. However he was the new commander of all U.S. Naval Forces in Europe, and Rowley was glad that he seemed amiable enough. Indeed, the Americans, since their entry into the war in April, had already started to send destroyers and cruisers to Ireland and Gibraltar to support the convoy system that the Admiralty had established. An initial trickle had given way to a proverbial flood. For Rowley, they were offering to expedite the deployment of American battleships to Scapa Flow. This surprised Rowley, as he had always felt that Wilson and his allies indulged in twisting the lion’s tail. After all, Wilson’s own remarks about the American naval expansion program tended to be directed at Britain more than Germany, and though the Hun had infuriated the Americans with their submarine war, the British blockade had caused almost as much consternation in the White House and Congress. He had not expected as much cooperation as he was being given. Admiral Sims’s visit and the offer that he carried had come as a shock, a most welcome one, but a shock nonetheless. “You must understand Admiral Sims,” Rowley said. “I would have your battleships here tomorrow if I could so order it. Yet the logistical issues are considerable,” “My staff in London can handle the logistical issues specific to our ships,” Sims replied. “I’m also sure that we can send some of our own auxiliary ships and supply you with our own artificers. We can make use of your shipyards for major repairs,” “It’s more about the immediate deployment,” Rowley replied. “The Royal Navy did not make extensive use of 14-inch guns. We have a few capital ships that mount them, but not many, and I don’t think that the calibers line up correctly with your own 14-inch guns. The Japanese battlecruiser squadron can use our ammunition, because they use our 14-inch gun, but you’d likely have to ship ammunition all the way to Scapa Flow,” “Don’t you have some monitors that are armed with our guns?” Sims asked. “Yes, and with a pitifully small ammunition stockpile,” Rowley responded. “Well,” Sims said. “We better start getting shipping organized. Do you have adequate storage facilities here in Scapa Flow for us to store our own ammunition?” “We can make room if need be,” Rowley replied. “However we will not be able to store as much as you will want to have in reserve. Some of it will have to be stored on the mainland and shipped here as needed,” Sims nodded in understanding. All around Scapa Flow, construction gangs labored to expand the shore facilities needed to support the massive fleet. Workshops, storage areas, ammunition bunkers, coal bunkers, oil tanks, barracks, hospitals, and all the other supports needed for naval warfare. As soon as one project was finished, another one needed to be started. “At any rate, it is critical that our battleships begin to adjust to operating under the command of an ally. They’ll be here within the month,” “Very good,’ Rowley said. “I'm sorry to 'hem-and-haw' as it were. My chief-of-staff would normally handle this details, but he's down in London trying to make properly humble supplication for offending the Tsar," "I heard about that," Sims said with a smile. "Most of my earlier letters and telegrams were to Vice-Admiral Sands. Is he in much trouble then?"
"His promotion to full Admiral will probably be delayed," Rowley replied. "Perhaps even permanently, but I will able to keep him on. He still has t go down and grovel to the proper people for the sake of appearances. The Admiralty would prefer if its officers did not give offense to his nibbs,"
"I'm glad to hear it," Sims said. "Sands struck me as an uncommonly efficient officer. I hope saving him did not burn up too much clout,"
"Not too much," Rowley replied. "At any rate, I did make him liaison to the Tsar, so I'm partially to blame. I thought having a senior officer rather than a snot-nosed Sub-lieutenant would placate the Tsar. Rather foolish of me to think that. Speaking of junior officers, were you able to find a liaison officer?" “Yes, I’m giving you a young lieutenant commander that I plucked off a tanker of all things. He’s a fine officers, and I’ve dragooned him into serving on your staff,” Sims said. “He’s due for some time on someone’s staff, and I figured that he can’t get much better service on a staff in Europe than on the C-in-C North Sea’s staff,” “Kind of you to say,” Rowley replied. “His rank is also eminently suitable. My Japanese liaison officer is a commander, and my flag lieutenant just got his lift as well. I wish they were here, but they’ve both become obsessed with areoplanes and flying, and it’s all I can do to keep them from staring at the direction of the areodrome when they're on duty,” “Well, he’s not much better,” Sims replied wryly. “He’s a submarine fellow…and an engineer,” “Well, “Rowley replied. “I was neither. The Navy I joined still had sailing ships, distrusted breech-loading guns, flogged the daylights out of miscreant sailors, and tended to give promotions based on how polished a ship’s brass work was.” “Sailing ships were a bit before my time,” Sims said. “but my first posting was to a wooden-hulled steamer built well after ocean-going ironclads became a reality. Let’s just be grateful that people with the right ideas came along in time,” “Ahem,” Sims replied solemnly. “Well Admiral Rowley, I had best be off. In spite of the official creation of my post, the Navy Department has not yet furnished me with a sufficient staff, and being away from my headquarters generally means chaos upon my return. I’ve brought the liaison, and with your permission, I’ll send him in.” “Please do Admiral Sims,” Rowley said. “and thank you,” Sims left the room, and the new liaison entered the room and snapped to attention. The commander looked to be a man of about thirty-two and of average height. He carried himself with a deliberate focus and seriousness that impressed Rowley, who marked the new member of his staff as a man who would go places. Rowley returned his salute, and the officer spoke. “Lieutenant Commander Nimitz,” he said. “Reporting as ordered sir,”
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Post by director on Jun 19, 2018 20:55:32 GMT -6
Heh. Nimitz, meet Yamamoto. Yamamoto, meet Nimitz. Pistols at dawn on the lawn...
Actually, they'd probably get on reasonably well. Nimitz isn't a drinker or a gambler, but he is a sociable fellow. Or they might get along like fingernails on a chalkboard - I suppose only time will tell.
Thank God in Heaven they didn't send Ernie King.
Rowley will be pleased to have additional dreadnoughts even though he's likely getting the worst of the lot. Historically, the new oil-burning American dreadnoughts were kept on the west side of the Atlantic and the coal-burners went to war. If Britain can logistically support the oil-burners then Rowley should be pretty happy with what his 'associates' (not allies) bring over. The Americans should make a good impression on the Royal Navy (if anyone can).
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Post by cv10 on Jun 20, 2018 13:52:38 GMT -6
Thank God in Heaven they didn't send Ernie King. I thought about putting him in, but didn't think I could do him justice.
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Post by cv10 on Aug 25, 2018 20:51:19 GMT -6
So I don't know when I'll have the next update ready, but here's what the next two will be about:
I. Nimitz sees his first action, and the Royal Navy reaffirms its ability to covey German ships directly from the shipyard to the seafloor.
II. A golden opportunity is squandered, a subordinate is charged under Article II of the Naval Discipline Act, and someone is gravely injured...
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Post by garrisonchisholm on Aug 28, 2018 10:22:41 GMT -6
and someone is gravely injured... So long as it is not the Author. :]
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Post by cv10 on Aug 28, 2018 14:33:03 GMT -6
and someone is gravely injured... So long as it is not the Author. :] Thanks for the sentiment! I hope it's not the author!!
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Post by cv10 on Sept 19, 2018 22:20:11 GMT -6
19 July, 1917:
Sighted battlecruiser, sank same.
(As taken from The Nimitz Journals, Volume II: On Distant Service, 1917-1919)
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Post by garrisonchisholm on Sept 20, 2018 8:36:22 GMT -6
"Seldom in the annals of literature has a votive so profound been elucidated with such aplomb, virility, and- oh, he is American? Never mind then."
- Professor E.S. Schoop, Oxford Endowed Chair, Literature and Culture.
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Post by cv10 on Dec 29, 2018 20:54:53 GMT -6
On HMS Renown at anchor in Edinburgh, 31 July 1917: We had a near perfect chance to annihilate the High Seas Fleet today, and by a Bathtub Admiral’s bravery, it was flubbed. Admiral Rowley accompanied the Battlecruiser Fleet on what was supposed to be a routine sweep of the North Sea. We were steaming from Scotland on a course to the southeast when a submarine out on patrol spotted what it thought were a few Hun light cruisers. Admiral Beatty turned to the southwest to investigate and we stumbled onto the whole of the entire High Seas Fleet. The Germans were coming at us on a course running east-northeast, and Beatty turned ordered the BCF to turn south. I think he was trying to bring as many heavy guns as he could to bear on the Germans while avoiding running smack into them. The Germans altered course too, running south southwest. We were pretty close to them for a while, and it looked as if the Germans were trying to come right down on top of us. Our destroyers were sicced on Harry Hun to get him to back off. The tin cans scored a single hit on a dreadnought of the Helgoland-class, and the HSF sheered off a bit to open some distance. We engaged the Germans in a long-range duel while waiting for the Grand Fleet to put to sea, the old man having sent out a coded message to that effect as soon as the sighting of enemy dreadnoughts was confirmed. Admiral Beatty managed to maneuver around the Germans and put the BCF between the HSF and the English coast. I’ve heard some scuttlebutt grousing about this decision, but I think Beatty might have been right. If we’d stayed between the Germans and their bases, there was nothing preventing them from attacking the east coast ports. Furthermore, By repositioning the BCF in the way that he did, I think Beatty was able to entice the Germans to chase him North. We led the HSF north for bit, guns firing only intermittently. The Hun, perhaps sensing that more than enough time had passed to let the Grand Fleet put to sea, began to retire to the north-northeast. They were moving at inconstant speeds, and their line of battle got badly strung out, so Beatty had us turn south-southeast to rake the rear of their line. We hammered away at the damaged Helgoland and the last 3 of their old style battleships. The dreadnought did not take enough damage and managed to retire under the cover of a Hun destroyer attack, but the 3 battleships got torn to shreds. We passed through the burning wreck of their rearguard, and that’s when the old man got wounded. We were passing a fleeing German light cruiser that was hammering away with its popgun 4-inchers and everything else she had, trying desperately to escape. We got far too close to her and someone on her opened up with a machine gun, raking the flag bridge. David and I were nearly cut down, while the old man took a bullet to the shoulder and one to the chest that we were sure would be fatal. David and I carried him down to the sick bay, and just before we handed him off to the surgeon, he asked David “Where’s Grand Fleet?” That was the million-dollar question we had no answer to. By this point in the action, Beatty had put us fairly close to the German line; trying to entice them back into a chase to the Northwest into what we were hoping would be the teeth of Grand Fleet. We were low on ammo, and at least 3 ships of the 1st Battlecruiser Squadron had stopped firing due to empty magazines. We had our eyes to the horizon, hoping to see Jellicoe steaming in to crush the last serious surface threat that the Germans had. A bunch of signals sent in the open soon enlightened us to Grand Fleet’s plight. I couldn't get the exact times, but this was the order in which Jellicoe sent them: Message 1: “All Squadrons, maintain fleet formation,” Message 2: “2nd Division 1st BS, Maintain station,” Message 3: “2nd Division 1st BS, get back in formation,” Message 4: “All Ships, Ignore actions of 2nd Division 1st Battle Squadron and return formation Message 5: “CO 2nd Division 1st BS, get back in formation,” Message 6: “CO 2nd Division 1st BS, get back in formation, God damn you,” Message 7: “Flag Captain 2nd Division 1st BS, place CO 2nd Division 1st BS under arrest and transfer command to deputy CO,” We weren’t quite sure until today exactly what happened, but at the time it was clear that Grand Fleet was not coming. Admiral Beatty broke off and we headed for Scotland at 15 knots. We found out later that the CO of the 2nd division of the 1st Battle Squadron, some bathtub Admiral, a man who’d seen little sea duty but had the merit of being on hand when the 2nd Division of the 1st BS needed a new CO, had ordered his division out of formation. There’s going to be an inquiry into the whole affair. Rumor is that he panicked when he found out that he was going up against the HSF, and David said that under King’s Regs and the Naval Discipline Act, the man could hang for what he did. The good news from this affair is pretty sparse. We did sink 3 old battleships without heavy losses, having only lost a light cruiser and two destroyers with some of their crew saved. I suppose that should be a triumph in of itself, but compared to the opportunity we had, it feels like a crushing failure. The only other good thing is that the sawbones were able to save Admiral Rowley. He'll need some time to recover, but they think he might be able to resume command, provided he stays at his desk for a good long while. (As taken from The Nimitz Journals, Volume II: On Distant Service, 1917-1919)
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Post by director on Dec 29, 2018 21:33:11 GMT -6
I understand you have to use the situation you have, and I can't really fault your decisions. Placing the battlecruisers between the high Seas Fleet and their home port is an open invitation to disaster. Lose the speed advantage and you could get drawn under the crushing power of the German battleships; lose the battlecruisers and you are not checkmated but certain ly down a queen.
I can;t see that as a minor victory - to stand off the whole High Seas Fleet, and to see them indecisive and unwilling to close, is significant. To do it at such a numerical disadvantage is indicative of a clear British victory. Those German Bs may not count for a lot in the dreadnought stakes, but the Germans are using them because they desperately needed them.
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Post by cwemyss on Jan 4, 2019 11:10:55 GMT -6
Dang, I'm at the (current) end!!! Great writing, I really like the narrative approach when you restarted it.
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