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Post by dorn on Mar 15, 2019 8:21:41 GMT -6
The most difficult is to stay in distance seeing your gunnery is completely impotent and your prey will disappear in dark of comming night. A than just one shell hit turret and pierce the armour. Midnight sun of early 20th century.
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Post by boomboomf22 on Mar 15, 2019 12:00:57 GMT -6
Me, I'm more of the case where I have to stop myself from going "Hoist the signal flags, engage the enemy more closely!" Hey, if there's ever a good time in the game for putting your battleships alongside those of the enemy and exchanging broadsides at near-point blank ranges, it's the predreadnought period. Heavy guns don't yet rip through battleship armor like it was paper even at very short ranges, torpedoes are neither as dangerous (despite predreadnought-period ships having a rather severe lack of underwater protection) nor as numerous as they are later in the game, and your ships can hardly hit the broad side of a barn from half their theoretical maximum gun range anyways.
Really gives you bad habits for later in the game, though...
Yup, just had a battle last night where I was Russia vs France in 1914. Dreadnoughts, was going well I thought then my line got hit by 3 torps...paused and only then did I realize I had been running parallel to the enemy line at 2000 yards... in 1914
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Post by cwemyss on Mar 16, 2019 19:57:57 GMT -6
17 May 1903 – Paris “Again?” Charles Bettancourt asked. “I’m afraid so, mon Amiral,” answered Capitane Matthieu Sandherr. The two men were seated once again in a café just outside the Jardin des Champs Elysees. At least the weather was better this time, mused Bettancourt. “What happened?” Sandherr sipped his coffee then let out a long sigh. “Our man met with one of the engineers from the steel mill in Savona, and afterward went to a brothel. Apparently he couldn’t keep his mouth shut and one of the other girls heard him bragging to his chosen courtesan. The Italian Servizio met him at the steps to his flat.” “Brilliant,” Bettancourt stated flatly. “Not exactly what we needed, relations throughout Europe have been very congenial since the last Italian war ended.” “As you say,” Sandherr allowed, looking briefly thoughtful before his customary inscrutability clouded his features again. “On a positive note, our man did stop by his dead-drop before heading home and passed on a package. It appears to be a very detailed description of their new steel alloy, I’ve handed it on to Tanqueray and the technical branch.”
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Post by cwemyss on Mar 18, 2019 8:44:19 GMT -6
21 June 1903 – Bay of Biscay, 15 nm off La Rochelle Contre-Amiral Tanqueray ducked his head as he moved from the Triton’s engine room to boat’s main compartment. Bettancourt, not at all used to the cramped quarters on board the fleet’s new submarines, did not, and he paid for it with a mighty thump. While no one dared utter a sound at the navy chief’s discomfiture there were several knowing glances exchanged, well out of Bettancourt’s sight. Many of them had made the same mistake their first time on board one of the boats. “If you’ll come around this side, sir,” Tanqueray shouted, ears still ringing from the time spent in the small engine section. SSC Sirene, the previous boat in the class, had lacked a partition between the two compartments and after a few hours the crew would be insensible from the noise. Bettancourt shook off knock on the head and stepped around the plotting table in the middle of the tiny room. First the boat grew much quieter, the steam plant’s raucous din replaced by the muted thrum of the boat’s twin electric motors. Then, with a rush of water into the ballast tanks, the large depth gauge mounted to the starboard bulkhead began to creep downward. Bettancourt reflexively, but silently, looked at the compartment’s low ceiling. Capitane de Corvette Georges Leclerc leveled the Triton a depth of 10 fathoms and began a series of movements, turns and changes of depth meant to demonstrate the submarine’s capabilities. While it was not especially nimble, particularly in ascent and descent, Bettancourt was fairly impressed by what he saw. Triton had been at sea only a couple weeks and he and Tanqueray had ridden out this morning aboard the destroyer Cognee to observe this exercise. Cognee was itself very new, only six months in commission, and had proceeded inshore to take up station patrolling the large strait off La Rochelle. Triton was now maneuvering, underwater, to attempt to find the destroyer and achieve a firing position. “Only six knots?” Bettancourt asked, looking over the helmsman’s shoulder. “That’s not going to allow you to chase down anyone.” “No sir,” Leclerc responded. “We’ve learned to rethink our tactics. Stealth is far more important than speed. We creep in as close as we can, observe the target to find its speed and bearing, and lie in wait. There are times we simply cannot catch them, other times we’re able to position the boat in their path. The torpedoes we carry are good to 2500 meters at slow speed, but it’s better if we can get within a thousand meters.” “We ran some tests with Sirene,” Tanqueray added. “We can get almost eight knots at a horrible expense in endurance, and the batteries generate hydrogen gas much faster. Six has been seen as a good compromise.” “I see,” said Bettancourt, noncommittal. He knew there had been fires aboard some of the earlier experimental submarines. “And how exactly do you determine what your quarry is doing?” Tanqueray grinned. “That sir, is the best part of the new boat.” Leclerc smiled as well and ordered the boat to four fathoms. He moved to a gleaming tube on the port side that ran from floor to ceiling, and leaned over to an eyepiece. Satisfied he turned to Bettancourt. “See for yourself, sir. Our new periscope.” Bettancourt stepped up to the viewer and was greeted with a sight of the surface above: bright sunlight, a few clouds, and a gentle swell could be seen a bit below the periscope's lens. And just a couple kilometers away cruised the Cognee, on a roughly crossing path, and blithely unaware of the Triton’s presence.
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Post by cwemyss on Mar 22, 2019 11:37:36 GMT -6
Edits to the last two chapters... I'd put my staff adjutant in the scenes where I wanted my fleet engineer. D'oh. That's what I get for giving them both "T" names. Apparently I should have used "Gordons" or "Beefeater" for the engineer.
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Post by cwemyss on Mar 22, 2019 12:44:11 GMT -6
17 July 1903 – Paris Amiral Bettancourt re-read the sheets in front of him, a transcript of the Bastille Day speech given by Député Alexandre Delmas in the National Assembly. It was long, it was fiery, and most of all, it was aimed directly at Italy. In that regard it matched the prevailing mood in the papers. Bettancourt wasn’t completely certain what was driving the nation’s renewed animosity toward Italy, but coming on the heels of the intelligence agency’s failure in May, tensions between the two countries were greatly elevated. In and among ninety exhausting minutes of bombast and nationalism, Delmas had called for a funding increase for the Navy and Army. Bettancourt suspected a very large dose of opportunism in Delmas’ speech, as the people’s representative from Languedoc also happened to sit on the board of one of the country’s largest coal mining companies. But in any case, he had a minor budget windfall to spend. In the first place, it made paying for the recent technology sharing agreement with Germany much easier. The collaborative effort was expensive but had already borne fruit, with a new insensitive high explosive filler making a repeat of the spring’s horrible accident on the armored cruiser Lodi much less likely. The most exciting development had been independent though, and Bettancourt did not intend to share it with any nation. French scientists and engineers had come up with a method of linking all the heavy guns aboard a ship to a single rangefinder, and giving a single gunnery officer control over aiming and firing. A prototype had been installed aboard the Lodi during her repairs, and in testing last month the cruiser had been able to score occasional hits on a towed target at nearly 10000 meters. She was consistently landing shots on-target at 8000 meters when the system worked. That unit had been nowhere near ready for use in the fleet, with the shock of the ship’s own guns frequently knocking it out of service. Tanqueray had provided a report this month that his experts had developed an improved model which was ready to deploy. The fleet engineer had also presented a draft plan for ship upgrades, asking for 41 Million francs over the next several years to fit all of the Navy’s battleships, heavy cruisers, and even the colonial cruisers with the new central firing system. Bettancourt was contemplating the upgrade proposal, which would eat up the remainder of the new budget allocation. While the recently completed dock upgrades had given them space to make the updates, Bettancourt doubted he’d end up implementing the full plan. In the first place, while the fleet units would certainly benefit from the new technology the colonial ships really didn’t need it. In time of war they’d largely be set to raiding, with orders to avoid extended engagements with other warships; long-range accuracy wasn’t needed to deal with transports and merchantmen. And that said nothing of the logistical nightmare in shuffling technicians and sensitive equipment to colonial stations to upgrade the ships. Equally important, at the rate Tanqueray’s people were coming up with advancements the next great thing was likely just around the corner. The engineer would be back in his office in three or six months, bearing another upgrade proposal with new magic for the fleet. Better to take a measured approach, and put aside some of that budget boost for new heavy ships. Bettancourt paged Tremblay into his office. “Tell him to start with the Sfax and Montcalms, and to rebuild no more than two ships at a time,” he told his adjutant. Two of the Pavia class were building now, and Bettancourt really wanted to see the planned third and fourth units finally start construction.
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Post by cwemyss on Mar 29, 2019 10:33:01 GMT -6
23 November 1903 – East River Materializing out chilly of the mist, the massive granite and limestone tower loomed 75 meters or more above the bridge of Capitane Roland Varton’s cruiser Paris. He paused for a moment to admire John Roebling’s marvel as the harbor pilot and his conning officer brought them through the fog, heading south from the Brooklyn Naval Yard. The five nights spent in New York had featured an agenda full of galas for the officers, tours of the city’s attractions for all, and a lengthy afternoon where the gathered ships crews had been treated to addresses by the city’s mayor, several other dignitaries, and by President Theodore Roosevelt himself. Perhaps inevitably, the visit had also featured countless sailors who had run afoul of American police, bar owners, brothel madams, and local criminals. By this morning all had been gathered back aboard ship and the Paris led procession that included battleship Roi Soleil and the cruisers Jeanne d’Arc, Lille, and Le Havre as they departed New York for warmer climes. In six days they’d drop anchor again in the tropic waters of Fort de France, Martinique. The Paris was fresh from winning the fleet’s gunnery trophy last month, the culmination of a year-long training program that had seen the ships of the fleet at sea, expending a tremendous amount of ammunition and forced to fix the routine damage that came with a heavy exercise schedule. After the final competition they’d barely had time to clean off the gunpowder burns, coal the ship, and refill magazines before taking on board a group of cadets from Ecole Navale and setting out. This tour had been the Naval Minister’s idea, to serve as an extended exercise for the cadets and for the fleet, while visiting a multitude of French colonies and showing French naval strength around the world. The reception had been mixed so far, the warm welcome in New York in stark contrast to three very stilted days in Portsmouth, and Italian territory left completely off the agenda. While this was a political tour, at least a sailor had laid out the plan. They were skirting the edge of the north Atlantic hurricane season on this leg, but they planned to round Cape Horn at the height of the Austral summer. In a month they’d be met in Dakar by several cargo ships, sailing from Toulon with supplies and parties of technicians to repair and refit the ships as needed. Another such team, traveling overland, would meet them in Saigon in late May. Varton’s thoughts were broken by the blast of a horn, the pilot boat bidding farewell as the line of warships stood out to sea. Forty thousand nautical miles and eight months of steaming lay ahead.
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Post by pirateradar on Apr 1, 2019 20:29:14 GMT -6
I'm impressed by how leisurely you're taking this, still being in 1903! You put much more care and time into each month's events than I would have the patience for.
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Post by cwemyss on Apr 1, 2019 21:29:12 GMT -6
I'm impressed by how leisurely you're taking this, still being in 1903! You put much more care and time into each month's events than I would have the patience for. Job, kid, etc etc etc. I will say I'm up to mid-/late-1904 in gameplay, and I've got two more installments drafted. That's the time-drain, trying to capture all the interesting events (especially once a war starts) and then try to write something decently entertaining. Its about tripled the length of my already slow play. But when I've rushed a chapter, I haven't been too happy with the results. I'll try to get the next "chapter" polished and posted tomorrow.
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Post by MateDow on Apr 1, 2019 21:45:15 GMT -6
I can identify with that sentiment.
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kch
New Member
Posts: 27
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Post by kch on Apr 2, 2019 6:16:48 GMT -6
Great AAR .. I am really enjoying the read. Just a quick question. What are you using for the pictures of the ships in game, and the silhouettes in the order of battle?
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Post by cwemyss on Apr 2, 2019 12:27:30 GMT -6
Great AAR .. I am really enjoying the read. Just a quick question. What are you using for the pictures of the ships in game, and the silhouettes in the order of battle? The side profiles are built from an artwork set I got from the "Ship Parts For Everyone" thread. nws-online.proboards.com/thread/874/ships-parts-everybodyI dont remember who's work it is, I'd have to go back and check to give proper credit. But I love the look and I hadn't seen it in an AAR so I rolled with it. For the silhouettes I take that pic into MS Paint and I get to work early-90s style. Then there's a lot of Google Images for the historically appropriate "flavor" pics, like the pilot boat in my most recent chapter.
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Post by aeson on Apr 2, 2019 13:15:34 GMT -6
I dont remember who's work it is, I'd have to go back and check to give proper credit. But I love the look and I hadn't seen it in an AAR so I rolled with it. I think it's ccip's set made by cutting line drawings from old editions of Brassey's Naval Annual into pieces.
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Post by cwemyss on Apr 2, 2019 17:11:22 GMT -6
I dont remember who's work it is, I'd have to go back and check to give proper credit. But I love the look and I hadn't seen it in an AAR so I rolled with it. I think it's ccip's set made by cutting line drawings from old editions of Brassey's Naval Annual into pieces. That's the ones, i went and found it. Great stuff!!!
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Post by cwemyss on Apr 2, 2019 20:51:01 GMT -6
7 January 1904 - Paris Amiral Bettancourt entered into his office, greeting Capitane Tremblay as he walked through the antechamber. “The morning papers, sir,” said Tremblay, handing over copies of the three main dailies. “What is behind all the warmongering regarding Italy?” “I don’t know, but I have some suspicions,” answered Bettancourt. “The peace in 1902 came very suddenly, and there are many parties who were unsatisfied. Some for nationalist reasons, some for the profit motive, some for dreams of colonial expansion. Even I would have loved to eject the Italians from East Africa, and I certainly don’t trust them. But you and I have seen first-hand what happens when steel hits flesh. Some haven’t.” “Very true,” Tremblay agreed, then changed the subject. “I have the latest dispatches from Escadre Bougainville. It would appear that refits in Dakar went well and they should be reaching Gabon today or tomorrow.” “Are they much impacted by malaria?” Bettancourt asked. “A few cases but not too bad. The men are all receiving quinine daily and that appears to be keeping things at bay.” “Very good,” the admiral responded. He picked up a folder from his desk. “Did you get a chance to look at this?” “Yes sir, the new Vouille class; it’s very impressive, and quite an improvement on the Pavia. Were they really able to fit the new fire control and two more seven-inch guns, and still find ways to reduce the cost of the ships?” “So it would seem,” Bettancourt replied. “And on the same tonnage as well. Tanqueray’s geniuses have done some really good work and the design costs will be saved just in the first year of construction. They also managed better armor protection and incorporated some damage control improvements too. Voille’s keel was laid on the New Year, and we’ll start her sister sometime later this year.”
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