|
Post by ieshima on Feb 10, 2019 7:38:00 GMT -6
Question for those who have written an AAR... how far do you usually play ahead of what you've written? I don't want to get so far out that I forget what drove the decisions, but between wars hitting 'next turn' goes a lot faster than writing an entertaining chapter about basically nothing. When I wrote the two AARs I've done on this forum, I took notes on anything interesting that happened as I played the game, and when I felt that the notes that I'd taken amounted to enough to make a post I'd go write something up and post it. Usually this worked out to around two to five years of game time while at peace and a year or two of game time while at war, if I recall correctly, but my AAR style is less story-oriented than yours is. I would suggest you look at what was historically going on at that point in time. If it is still 1900, write something about the boer Wars or the boxer rebellion. Heck, France was involved in pretty much every world affair at this point in history. You can find something.
|
|
|
Post by noshurviverse on Feb 10, 2019 10:32:37 GMT -6
Question for those who have written an AAR... how far do you usually play ahead of what you've written? I don't want to get so far out that I forget what drove the decisions, but between wars hitting 'next turn' goes a lot faster than writing an entertaining chapter about basically nothing. While it wasn't a traditional AAR, I did some forum playthroughs on another board. During those, I generally let other posters make all the decisions, unless they were extremely consistent with an overall goal (if they wanted to force a war with someone, I'd automatically back up the PM on criticizing that nation, for example). For ship designs I'd ask for a general idea, make my interpretation of that design, then ask for adjustments. This style generally meant that a playthough could take a few weeks to complete, but they were alot of fun.
|
|
|
Post by cwemyss on Feb 10, 2019 11:53:26 GMT -6
Question for those who have written an AAR... how far do you usually play ahead of what you've written? I don't want to get so far out that I forget what drove the decisions, but between wars hitting 'next turn' goes a lot faster than writing an entertaining chapter about basically nothing. While it wasn't a traditional AAR, I did some forum playthroughs on another board. During those, I generally let other posters make all the decisions, unless they were extremely consistent with an overall goal (if they wanted to force a war with someone, I'd automatically back up the PM on criticizing that nation, for example). For ship designs I'd ask for a general idea, make my interpretation of that design, then ask for adjustments. This style generally meant that a playthough could take a few weeks to complete, but they were alot of fun. I'm certainly open to people's input! Im probably not goingnto do a full lets-play, this is going to take forever anyway. But if I have significant new ship needs I'll post the design screen before i build anything, similar to what i did at the beginning (which will automatically mean catching up the narrative). And definitely, if anyone sees something I'm doing that makes you say "why the heck... " please feel free to ask. I may have a reason, I may just be ignorant, and either way it's good conversation.
|
|
|
Post by cwemyss on Feb 11, 2019 21:23:55 GMT -6
02 October 1900 Amiral Bettancourt was at his desk late, working solely by candlelight and the glow of Paris’s gas streetlights outside. Tremblay had long since gone home, and the sharp rap surprised him. Upon looking up a the open door he realized he should have expected it. Things appeared to be going to hell in the Balkans again and a visit from Capitane Matthieu Sandherr was probably overdue. He rose to greet the Deuxieme Bureau’s naval branch chief, saying, “Thank you for coming by. Your organization’s report on the American cruiser Seattle was thorough, and unexpected. I wasn’t aware we had any sources in Norfolk.” “I work very hard to keep you unaware of my sources, mon Amiral,” said Sandherr. “I find it best for all involved. And besides, the Seattle is being built in California, far from more watchful eyes in Washington.” “Very good,” replied Bettancourt. “I presume you’re here to talk about the unfortunate demise last month of Herr von Schutz.” Sandherr nodded. “Unfortunate, and not well liked it would seem. Or perhaps just a convenient pawn. He was last seen alive enjoying a lively dinner with an unknown woman in Portopiccolo, and was found very dead in the spa the next morning. At first it was ruled heart failure, but it has become clear that something he ate was... disagreeable.” “Poison, then,” Bettancourt remarked. “Quite so.” “Well,” said Bettancourt. “We have a mid-level German diplomat, with Russian family ties, murdered in an Austrian spa.” “Oui. Well, as much Italian as Austrian, to be honest. And someone’s started the rumor that his paramour was French.” Bettancourt rolled his eyes and opened his cigar case. He offered one to Sandherr, but the spymaster declined. “For at least a century that accursed peninsula has brought nothing but unrest and strife,” Bettancourt continued. "And now the papers in Germany and Italy are starting to paint us as the puppeteers. Do you have anyone in place to find out what more they may be planning? And how closely they’re cooperating?” “Sources, and methods, mon Amiral,” Sandherr repeated solemnly, rising and donning his cap. “I’ll see what can be done.” Bettancourt nodded, dismissing the dour man. It would take time, much more time, before the French navy could really challenge the German fleet. What he needed most were cruisers and torpedoes, and a lot of both. The Italians, on the other hand, could be pushed... If they weren’t in complete lock-step with the Germans. He had seen to the start of construction of two cruisers in recent months, one of the Montcalm class (a solid match for the American Seattle) and one of the Sfax class. While his architects were starting to look at ways to incorporate a few promising technologies brought forth by the specialists in the technical departments, these proven ships were available for construction now.
|
|
|
Post by cwemyss on Feb 12, 2019 23:08:21 GMT -6
21 December 1900 Amiral Bettancourt turned up the collar of his coat against the icy pellets of sleet blowing along the Quai d’Orsay. It was a dismal, miserable afternoon, but Sandherr had insisted they meet outside the Ministry. Considering the circumstances that probably made sense. Bettancourt crossed the Pont Alexandre, barely glancing up at the extravagant sculptures as he left behind the dismal abandoned fairgrounds so recently home to the Exposition Universelle. After crossing the slate grey Seine, he entered a non-descript café and shook the ice off his jacket. Sandherr was already seated, near a roaring fire, with a steaming pot of coffee and two empty cups in front of him. “Won’t you join me, Mon Amiral,” Sandherr asked. Bettancourt stifled a retort and sat, noiselessly placing a copy of Le Matin on the table. Though folded, the headline at the top was visible: French Spy Ring Shattered at La Spezia He looked around the nearly-empty room and filled the waiting coffee mugs, letting the silence draw out until Sandherr shifted uncomfortably. “Sir,” Sandherr started again, before he was cut off by Bettancourt’s sharp glance and raised finger. Bettancourt lifted the coffee and took a long draught before sitting back. “Your man in Italy did manage to get one set of plans sent off before being caught,” Bettancourt said pleasantly, the amiable tone not matched by the expression on his face. “Yes, Amiral, he did,” replied Sandherr. “Then from what I can piece together, the same agent that provided Germany’s Krupp Armor specifications, an Austrian I believe, turned him over to the Servizio. The Italians simply followed his trail and gathered the rest of the team. Three men and one woman in all.” “Where are they now?” “Unknown, sir. They haven’t been heard from, but that’s not unusual in this sort of case. We expect the worst.” “Risk of the trade I’d imagine. Unfortunate nonetheless. And messy.” He finished his coffee and rose. “So now the question is, what do we do?” he asked rhetorically. “Beyond tightening up your operation, of course.” Bettancourt left a couple francs on the table, turned his back on Sandherr, and prepared to face the gloomy afternoon again. As he walked back to the Naval Ministry, sleet turning to snow as the temperature dropped, Bettancourt considered the balance of forces in Europe. Nothing had changed significantly in the last few months, the Marine Nationale had commissioned the light cruiser Rouen and CA Kleber was due to launch next month. The Italians and Germans had both launched a few ships as well, both of them adding a handful of very fast destroyers in the last year, and Germany two unimpressive armored cruisers. “Pierre,” Bettancourt greeted his Adjutant, sweeping into his outer office. “Please get me the latest on the diplomatic situation, the most recent army figures, and if you don’t mind, something hot to drink.” “Right away, sir,” replied Tremblay. An idea was starting to settle in. If the Germans and Italians weren’t operating in concert, fighting them singly would be much easier than taking on both together. If he could drive a wedge between them, or more likely irritate one before the other, he might have a winnable hand after all. Tremblay entered the room with the requested reports, a sandwich, and a carafe of mulled wine. He waited patiently while Bettancourt looked over the army papers in particular. “Pierre, please contact Capitane Sandherr and find the name of the man we were speaking of this afternoon. He’ll know who I mean. And then set me an appointment with the editor of Le Matin.”
|
|
|
Post by akosjaccik on Feb 13, 2019 5:42:26 GMT -6
Excellent writing, as always!
|
|
|
Post by cwemyss on Feb 13, 2019 19:24:21 GMT -6
Planning question (and perhaps some story foreshadowing)... if the powers-that-be demand "you must build XX more ABCs"... how many months do you have to get them started?
|
|
|
Post by aeson on Feb 13, 2019 22:58:45 GMT -6
Planning question (and perhaps some story foreshadowing)... if the powers-that-be demand "you must build XX more ABCs"... how many months do you have to get them started? If I recall correctly, it's six turns counting from the turn just ended, or five from the turn that will begin after getting through the interturn messages. I.e. if you get the message after ending the January turn, you'll need to lay down the ships in July. One thing that you might do is save the game each turn once you get "close" to the deadline; the game won't remember that you missed the deadline if you reload the previous turn.
|
|
|
Post by cwemyss on Feb 15, 2019 10:21:41 GMT -6
18 May 1901 After another late night in his Paris office, Bettancourt swirled the cognac its snifter and contemplated events of the last several months. A motor race, of all things. In March an event had been held between Toulouse and Nice, a diversion for wealthy young men with nothing better to do. The Panhard entry had been expected to win, and was comfortably ahead of the competition most of the race, but somewhere outside Marseille they’d been forced to stop and make adjustments. The German entry, designed by Wilhelm Maybach and named for another rich fool’s daughter of all things, had experienced it’s own engine trouble early on but made up most of the difference while the French car had been sidelined. When the German caught up the two cars had traded positions for nearly 30 kilometers, before making contact along the mountain roads outside Cannes. The Panhard had suffered a broken front spring, but the German got away undamaged and went on to win the race. Not content to take the loss like a gentleman, the French driver had accused the German driver of blatant cheating, broadened his criticism to the Daimler team, and then the German nation as a whole. The French press picked it up and ran with it, and the German press fired back in kind as a matter of national honor. Instead of dying out as a stupid argument among the haute bourgeoisie, it had grown to become truly dangerous. The Germans had started carping about French activity in Morrocco, and the French press was fulminating about Alsace-Lorraine. There had been skirmishes between German- and French-backed colonial troops in central Africa, and now a collision at sea. Bettancourt had dispatched a small squadron to honor the accession of King Albert of Belgium. During the review, a German destroyer had blundered into the side of the cruiser Rouen, an unlucky and truly clumsy error but ultimately inconsequential. Unfortunately the German press had seized upon the incident, and now the Germans had registered a formal protest. With tensions in Europe high, and the larger part of the French fleet stationed in the Mediterranean in preparation for a likely war with Italy, Bettancourt had no choice but to swallow his pride and offer some meaningless remarks in an attempt to avoid facing two enemies. Bettancourt’s engineers and scientists had been busy during all this chaos, and made incremental steps on several fronts. The most critical was the design of a new class of destroyer, allowing more or less the same firepower with two extra knots of speed. Two of the class had been laid down in April, and he expected to build them in large numbers. The technical departments had also brought forth a means of mounting larger secondary armament on his heavy cruisers and had proposed an updated Montcalm design, with 10 casemated eight-inch guns replacing the Montcalm’s 14-gun six-inch battery. Bettancourt had declined to put that one in production, as he wasn’t sure the larger guns would provide enough volume to make up for the notorious inaccuracy of secondary batteries. In response to a very amicable conversation with the Ministre de la Marine, and a significant bump in the naval budget, Bettancourt had ordered the construction of a number of cruisers. Technology hadn’t advanced enough in any area for a markedly better fleet cruiser, so the CL Mulhouse was laid down to the Sfax design. Production of the Champlain class, dormant for almost two years, was also restarted with the La Salle and the Caron. Finally, Bettancourt had attended a demonstration last month of a completely new type ship. While it still had quite a few issues to work out before it could be produced in any quantity, the Gustave Zede held the promise of revolutionizing naval warfare. The few remaining traditionalists in the fleet were horrified, but Bettancourt had directed his staff to start considering how these submersible ships could be used and what characteristics would allow them to operate most effectively.
|
|
|
Post by director on Feb 22, 2019 10:28:13 GMT -6
An entertaining read.
At first glance I thought that DD somehow had a twin turret forward, which left me quite aback. On closer inspection I see where I went wrong. A nice torpedo strength.
I agree with you that replacing the 6" secondary with 8" probably isn't worth the money. Ship design is changing and weight-savings will accumulate, so I think new construction would be a better use of funds.
|
|
|
Post by aeson on Feb 22, 2019 12:42:37 GMT -6
I agree with you that replacing the 6" secondary with 8" probably isn't worth the money. Ship design is changing and weight-savings will accumulate, so I think new construction would be a better use of funds. Pretty sure that the "updated Montcalm design with 10 casemated 8in guns replacing the 14 6in guns" mentioned is a design for new construction. The game doesn't let you replace the secondary battery with anything heavier than 6" guns, so far as I am aware.
|
|
|
Post by cwemyss on Feb 22, 2019 12:49:52 GMT -6
I agree with you that replacing the 6" secondary with 8" probably isn't worth the money. Ship design is changing and weight-savings will accumulate, so I think new construction would be a better use of funds. Pretty sure that the "updated Montcalm design with 10 casemated 8in guns replacing the 14 6in guns" mentioned is a design for new construction. The game doesn't let you replace the secondary battery with anything heavier than 6" guns, so far as I am aware. Correct, it would have been a new design, derivative of Montcalm. Right-click on the ship, "Open Design", and work from there. It can save quite a bit on "first of type" costs, depending on how drastic the changes are. On vacation with the family, will likely resume writing this weekend.
|
|
|
Post by cwemyss on Feb 24, 2019 21:55:25 GMT -6
15 July 1901 Bettancourt’s head was throbbing, again, and for a change it had nothing to do with drink. The previous night had been the fireworks for La Fete Nationale, but that was followed by a long, restless night, alternating between trying to sleep and running through a thousand different fleet concerns in his head. He finished shaving and splashed water in his face, first scalding hot and then ice cold. His wife had brewed a full pot of coffee, and he drank the last of it as he finished dressing. He had a long day of meetings ahead, starting with what could be a thorny discussion with the Ministre de la Marine. He and the Navy’s civilian chief saw eye-to-eye on most naval matters, and that had made the last several months much easier. That didn’t change the fact that the Minister was a political creature, subject to popular opinion, susceptible to pressure from the Senate, and most of all, very sensitive to the opinion of the President. While the situation with Germany had subsided to a slow burn, the press still occasionally stirred the embers and made sure it never completely died out. Just last week there had been an article in Le Petit Journal, remarkably well sourced, heavily criticizing the fleet for a lack of heavy units stationed in the North Atlantic to stave off potential German advances. Bettancourt was ushered into the Minister’s office by a functionary who set out a fresh pot of tea and left, closing the door behind him. “Good morning, Charles,” intoned the Minister. “Please have a seat.” Bettancourt took the offered beverage and the empty chair. “The papers appear to have a bit to say about your fleet dispositions,” the Minister started right in, “and I can’t say I completely disagree. As long as that impatient, impulsive fool remains on the throne Germany remains a menace.” “Granted they are a threat,” Bettancourt answered, “but you know as well as I do that the Prussian armies are in far better shape than their Navy.” ”Loubet doesn’t like our Navy being largely in the Mediterranean either,” said the Minister, “and he asked me to speak to you.” “Bah,” Bettancourt responded, brushing aside the President’s inquiry. “If he’s ordering me to move ships I will; otherwise they stay. We’re more likely to fight Italy than Germany anyway. I’m far more concerned with how Le Journal got their hands on our exact fleet dispositions and accounts of recent Flotte d’Atlantique exercises.” “Very true,” said the Minister. “I trust you’re working on that?” “I have some ideas, and I’ve directed Sandherr to look into a few things,” Bettancourt replied. The exercise reports had been slanted, really mis-represented, by whoever leaked them to the press, painting a picture of Atlantic Fleet leadership that was unprepared and barely professional. “Do you think our holdover in Toulon might have something to do with it?” the Minister asked. Neither man particularly cared for Amiral Didier Fabron, who didn’t agree with the cruiser focus of the new navy and was very outspoken about it. Unfortunately Fabron was well-connected and deeply entrenched, with solid protection in the Senate. Bettancourt merely raised an eyebrow. “As I said, I’ve asked Sandherr to spend some time investigating,” he repeated, sipping his tea and sitting back. “What do you think of the new American administration,” the Minister asked, changing the subject. “McKinley hasn’t changed, but their new Vice President is an interesting man.” “Yes, quite an accomplished character and very willing to tell the world about it. If he’s half the man of action he claims to be, the Vice Presidency doesn’t suit him,” Bettancourt opined. “He at least appears to understand what a Navy is intended for.”
|
|
|
Post by pirateradar on Feb 26, 2019 10:23:41 GMT -6
Just read through this today and I'm enjoying it a lot--keep it up! I've been drawing up notes for a thread following a France playthrough in RtW2 sometime after launch, so it's pretty cool seeing somebody else's take on it.
|
|
|
Post by cwemyss on Feb 26, 2019 23:02:54 GMT -6
12 August 1901 Vice-Amiral Guy Travers looked again at the Rising Sun banner flapping cheerfully in the bright morning light, his flagship rocking in the gentle breeze blowing across the anchorage at Wonsan. Or Gensan, as the studiously polite invitation in his hand called it. Travers crumpled the paper and threw it over the rail of the 12000-ton cruiser Lodi. “His Eminence Meiji-Taitei thanks you for supporting our peacemaking activities in the Joseon peninsula. While your military forces are not needed at this time, your support is truly appreciated. His Eminence, represented humbly by Rear Admiral Baron Shigeto, invite you and your staff to call… “ Frustration burned bright enough to keep the message fresh in his memory as he considered at the rest of his fleet swinging at anchor. One light cruiser, one destroyer, and a couple transports… not enough to change anything. His fleet had been delayed leaving Cap Saint Jacques, first awaiting orders from Paris and then supposedly waiting for the Marine Brigade to locate missing equipment. Travers suspected that Colonel Brun had been in flagrante, lingering in one of the many establishments he was known to favor in the port city. In any case, this had been a stupendous waste of fuel, effort, and national prestige. And now he had to dress for dinner.
|
|