Operation Trebuchet V: Aftermath
40 Years after the Great War
Londinium
As many of our viewers may know, at the time of the bombardment of Turus, another important and well-known battle was about to be joined closer to home.
The Battle of Jyutland, at least up until this point in the war, was the largest modern naval engagement the world had ever seen. With the Home Fleet of the Allied Kingdom, commanded by Admiral Jellicoe, and the Imperial High Sea's Fleet under Admiral von Leichtenberg facing off in the North Sea, or the Deutsches Meer as the Empire called it at the time.
Although the Allied Kingdom and its Commonwealth had been successfully maintaining a naval blockade to starve the Empire of many of its supplies. The Albish High Command had been hoping for such an engagement in order to end the potential threat of the Imperial Fleet. They hoped a victory would hand them uncontested control of the seas and help pave the way for future strikes on the ever-expanding Empire that would eventually lead to the liberation of the occupied countries.
The battle of Jyutland caused the tragic loss of many sailors, marine mages and ships on both sides. The fierce fighting making it an incredibly costly endeavour for everyone involved. The most well-known and shocking casualty for we in the Allied Kingdom was the HMS Hood and much of her crew, a ship that until that point had been thought to be one of the most powerful battleships in the world.
It's unknown what effect the ships sent to the south might have had on the outcome of this battle. However, we do know that the destruction of the Turus dockyards was a major blow to Imperial efforts on the southern continent. Without a friendly port, the Imperial's supply lines became increasingly stretched, slowing their advance and allowing the Free Republic to begin fighting back against the Imperials.
– Andrew WTN Special Correspondent
September 25th Unified Year 1925 21:00
Turus Government building
Tanya deliberately scowled at her subordinate as Captain Weiss delivered his initial after-action report. The expression was designed to let him know that she was unhappy with his performance and that she was searching his words for any hint of duplicity or sign that he was omitting anything from his statement. It was supposed to rattle him, to make him think about what he had done. Although she had to admit, the intimidating effect was slightly diminished when the person you were glowering at was twice your size.
As an HR manager, the Salaryman had been required to employ this glare on more than one occasion when employees were suspected of slacking off or shirking their duties. An employee unwilling to deliver the standard required of the company was dead weight, and they needed to either be reformed or removed as soon as possible so that high standards could be maintained.
The latter had always been the Salaryman's area of expertise.
She had never expected such drastic action would be required for her loyal battalion of war maniacs, however. It shocked and saddened her that the troops she had trained had allowed their standards to slip so drastically. However, since up until now, Weiss had proven to be a hardworking and effective deputy, she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and allow him to explain himself. She wouldn't have it said that she treated her subordinates unfairly.
The battalion had been slow to dispatch the mages sent to intercept them. Very slow. Usually, she would have put this down to the renowned toughness of the Allied Kingdom's marine mage corps, they had a reputation of being some of the most effective troops in the world. However, since the fleet they had been protecting was made up of outdated and second-rate equipment, it stood to reason that the mages guarding it would also have been subpar troops. Perhaps fresh recruits given what was expected to be an easy assignment to settle them in.
As such her group of elites should have been able to easily rout them and re-join her with fresh supplies before the fleet had withdrawn. They should have been by her side as she and Visha assaulted the battleship. There was no way her troops could be stalled by a bunch of raw recruits; she'd trained them to be far better than that! The only explanation she could come up with for their poor performance was that Weiss had deliberately drawn the job out to avoid extra work.
This was not the attitude she expected from her troops, particularly not Weiss, the man she had been grooming as her successor. Such behaviour reflected badly on her and could jeopardise her career progression. But where could she have gone wrong? Had her attempts to temper her men's bloodthirsty nature accidentally snuffed it out completely? Had her encouraging jokes about working too hard been taken seriously?
If so, she had a major problem. She needed to deal with this before it came to the attention of her superiors. It seemed Visha was the only soldier she had trained that had successfully taken her lessons to heart.
"We suffered heavy resistance ma'am; they were pretty tough. Fortunately we only a few suffered minor wounds and no casualties." Weiss reported, managing to keep his usual professional tone, despite the slightly uncomfortable look he wore as she directed her scowl up at him.
Tanya searched for any sign that Weiss could be lying to her, a practice she'd become particularly adept at due to Wilhelm's continued opposition to anything approaching honesty. However, she could find no hint that the man was trying to mislead her in any way. Had she been mistaken? She had to be sure, she had to push him further.
"Are you telling me the Allied Kingdom's second-rate troops were able to hold up my battalion Captain Weiss? The battalion that I led through the Hell of the Rhine and back out again?" She began sardonically, searching the man's expression for signs of guilt. "I find that difficult to believe. Go on then, what are your excuses?"
Weiss seemed to pale slightly but his expression and tone remained the same when he next spoke.
"I offer no excuses Major; the battalion fought its hardest. However, I do not believe the troops we faced were second-rate, their movements and tactics were those of veterans, not novices. They knew when to run by the book and when to get creative Ma'am." He replied, referencing his own early failing when they had been assigned to fight the Dacians, Weiss had taken that lesson to heart and never repeated the mistake again. He would easily recognise that failing in others.
She scanned the captain's face again, and aside from the discomfort of being under her scrutiny, she could find nothing to suggest that Weiss was being anything other than truthful in this matter. That in itself was worrying.
Perhaps even the weakest of Albion's marine mages was capable of putting up a strong resistance against her elites. She was not sure about how the Allied Kingdom recruited its marine mages, but it was possible they were only picked from the very best of other military branches like many of the Special Forces in her old life. If so, the only weakness of the group Weiss and the battalion had faced was that they were not used to working with each other. Their more experienced colleagues would be far tougher. She would need to consider stepping up the battalion's training, there could be in for some difficult times in the future.
"Thank you, Captain Weiss, you did well under the circumstances. Have the troops stand down. You are dismissed." She said eventually, releasing her judgmental scowl. She felt a strange mix of relief and unease. It was good that she could still trust her deputy to properly do his job but the news about the enemy mages was an unwelcome surprise. It was fortunate the ships they were protecting weren't as tough as their magical escort.
"There was one more thing Major." Weiss called causing her to pause as she began turning away, "I wanted to tell you Lieutenant Grantz did a good job commanding a full company for the first time. I can't say that he can fill Koenig's shoes just yet, but he handled himself and his team well."
Of course! She thought as she gave Weiss a nod and headed up the stairs towards Romel's temporary office. Her battalion had not been operating at full strength and was still suffering from the inefficiency caused by losing a key member of the team. It was hardly any wonder they hadn't performed as well as they usually would. With Koenig on his way back to the Vaterland, they'd needed to replace him in the roster.
Weiss had put Grantz forward for the position and despite her misgivings about the young officer, she'd allowed it. However, although Grantz was a promising officer, he was still a young chick barely spreading his wings. It would be unthinkable that he could be as good as a more experienced commander straight off the bat. It was only natural that the battalion would suffer because of that. It would be like operating with a company missing.
The Marine mages her men had faced probably weren't nearly as tough as she feared, her battalion just hadn't been running efficiently, particularly with her, Visha and the others missing too. Even Wilhelm's absence would have affected how well they performed; how careless she was to forget that. Still, it would probably be prudent to ramp up the training just in case, there was no such thing as being too careful.
Her body overflowed with relief as she made her way up the stairs towards her destination. This problem was an easy fix at least, she would have to take some time to coach Grantz about his new responsibilities. The quicker he got up to speed the better and it would be an ideal opportunity to show off her leadership abilities.
She allowed herself to smile contently until she reached the door to what had once been General De Juin's office, knowing that von Romel would be inside. She paused for a moment and forced her expression back into one more professional and subdued. She had her own report to give and since General von Romel's goals hadn't been met, she doubted he would appreciate levity.
In this situation, presentation was key, she needed to make it clear that securing the docks had been impossible, then highlight the actions she'd taken to disrupt the bombardment. She couldn't flaunt her success against the battleship however, she had still failed her primary objective. She had to remain humble and allow the General to pick up on her achievement or he might consider her a braggart.
She took a moment to straighten her uniform before knocking on the door, entering once the distant-sounding permission was called through the door.
As she entered, she was surprised to find the General absent, and the room seemingly empty. In truth, the chamber barely resembled an office anymore. Looters, rioters and other troublemakers had done their best to steal or destroy anything of value before von Romel's troops had arrived. Evidentially, the people of Turus had picked up the habit of descending into general unrest over any little thing from their colonial masters.
"Out here Major Degurechaff." She heard the voice of von Romel from the large balcony at the far side of the office. The man's tone seemed both frustrated and resigned, Tanya wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.
She made her way towards the open balcony door and soon found the silhouette of General von Romel leaning against the railing. He did not turn to greet her and instead continued to brood over the sight of the still smouldering dockyards.
As she stepped onto the veranda, she found the General was not alone. A slightly dishevelled looking Wilhelm had beaten her here, along with Christina Zerbist who was fussing over a nasty gash on the side of his head. At first, she assumed he had come to try and salvage his own reputation after this debacle. However, rather than his usual tactics of dissembling and exaggeration, he sat quietly as though waiting for something.
Noticing her, he gave her a friendly smile as she approached, followed by a slight wince and a muttered admonishment from the maid at his side. She would usually have needed to stifle a smile at his self-inflicted pain but something about him made her feel a small hint of concern. He was swaying slightly and even at a distance, she could tell his eyes seemed slightly unfocused. Since the maid was fussing over the head wound she would guess he had a concussion, she would have to make sure he got some rest after this.
"Sir!" She called snapping a parade ground salute. Neither Romel nor Wilhelm returned it however, the former still staring out at the smoke and the latter too busy with treatment. She decided it best not to make an issue out of the breach of protocol.
"Not quite the victory we were hoping for, eh Degurechaff?" The General said eventually, finally breaking his gaze from the distant embers. "This whole thing turned into a disaster."
I was right, he is disappointed about the outcome of this mission she thought pushing down a slight panic as she listened to the man's words. She had to act fast to make sure that she didn't shoulder any blame for this debacle.
"Sir! I apologise for being unable to secure the docks as ordered. Although we managed to disarm most of the explosives planted, once the bombardment started the situation became untenable."
Romel stared at her for what seemed like an eternity and Tanya began to feel a little concerned. She didn't know the General too well yet and although her initial impressions had been positive, she wasn't familiar with all his moods. What if he were the sort that didn't take failure well and palmed the blame off on his subordinates? There must have been a reason why such a skilled officer had been sent to the desert instead of taking a place in the General Staff.
"You really are something else, aren't you Degurechaff?" He said eventually breaking into a brief humourless smile. Tanya wasn't sure what he meant by the remark. She wondered for a moment if she might have passed some sort of test but she was not given the opportunity to ponder on what it might have meant.
"I understand that despite the difficult circumstances, you once again managed to pull off what most would consider impossible." He said interrupting her thoughts. "I'm told that you managed to critically damage an enemy battleship. Prince Wilhelm believes it may have even been the HMS Hood."
Tanya blinked with surprise before turning to glare at the little captain. What the hell are you playing at, Wilhelm? There's no way that hunk of junk was the Hood, are you trying to make me look bad? Romel will think I'm overstating my achievements!
She had to clear this misunderstanding up and quickly. Tanya prided herself on giving an accurate account and unlike Wilhelm, she had never padded them out with false accomplishments to boost her own profile. She knew that working hard and following the rules was the best way to advance through life. Filling your resume with falsehoods and exaggerations would always come back to bite you, and claiming you'd managed to damage one of the most powerful battlecruisers in the world was possibly the most foolish boast anyone could make.
She was furious with the boy but found her anger softening as she noticed the look of genuine confusion on Wilhelm's face as he withered under her glare. It seemed as though he really did believe it was the Hood out there. Then again, he had not gotten close to the battleship as she had, although it would appear he'd been on the receiving end of its guns. Perhaps he too had been labouring under the assumption the Allied Kingdom had sent its best ships here rather than the ones destined for the scrapyard.
"I'm sorry sir, there seems to have been some mistake." She began making sure to exude an acceptable level of modesty. "The ship that I and Lieutenant Serebryakov assaulted couldn't have been the HMS Hood, it was far too lightly armoured and defended for Albion's best. I suspect it was one of the older ships, perhaps something like the HMS Queen Annabelle."
Tanya silently thanked her past self for attending a conference on enemy naval strength before they left for the south. As a member of the army, she had not been required to go, and in truth, she had little interest in the sea. However, she had wanted to network with her contemporaries and clearly something of the conference had stuck. Even if it was just the name of an old ship.
"What?" Wilhelm replied looking puzzled, "But…"
The boy was silenced by Christina as she put some disinfectant on his head, causing him to hiss as the antibacterial liquid found its way into the wound. Romel too turned to look at her with an inquisitive gaze, raising an eyebrow as if expecting there to be more to the account than she had supplied.
"You're sure? Intelligence suggested that the Hood was here, and the description they gave seemed to match the one you attacked."
"With respect General, Imperial intelligence hasn't exactly been performing its best recently." She replied shooting a glance at Wilhelm, who seemed to get the message and shrink slightly behind his maid.
In truth, it was a complete understatement. Since Canaris' death and the fall of the Abwehr, the Empire's intelligence services had become all but useless. Most of the troops now considered the intelligence branch as a laughingstock and joked that lack of intelligence was the only qualification to join. She'd heard it said on many occasions that they couldn't find their arse with both hands, and after reading some of the reports they'd sent, she thought that assessment was too generous.
"Well, I can't argue with you on that point. If I went off their estimates, we'd never get anything done down here." Von Romel replied grimly before offering her an encouraging smile. "Causing so much damage to a battleship is still quite the achievement though, I'll have to put you and Lieutenant Serebryakov in for a commendation."
"But the Francois Admiral was sure it was the Hood." Wilhelm protested much to Tanya's annoyance.
Shut up, you idiot! She mentally projected at him. Rather than make her look bad as she'd initially thought, it seemed he was trying to do the opposite and exaggerate her contribution to endear her to the general. However to try and claim that she neutralised one of the most powerful vessels in the world was beyond the pale, even for him. Even his silver tongue couldn't sell an idea that preposterous.
"If our intelligence couldn't get it right, I highly doubt a bunch of Republican separatists would know any better." She replied shaking her head dismissively.
"But…" The boy pressed, trailing off as she shot him a warning glare.
"You're injured Captain Hozollern, that head wound must have you confused. I assure you it couldn't have been the Hood." She continued, touching her orb. "Here, I recorded the assault."
She had hoped the projection would put an end to this ridiculous argument once and for all, however, she found herself frowning as the orb showed a grainy and blurred image instead. She must have used too much mana when she fired on the battleship. It had affected the recording making it difficult to make out any details in the image.
"It's a little difficult to tell from this." General von Romel remarked, echoing her own thoughts. "But if you say it wasn't the Hood, who are we to argue? Perhaps you're a little too eager to sing the praises of your superior officer, Prince Wilhelm."
Tanya sighed with relief, as Wilhelm shrank away, looking embarrassed. The general had realised what the little captain had been trying to do and had shot him down without projecting any of the blame onto her.
"Regardless, without the docks, we'll be forced to continue relying on the Ildoan ports for our supplies." The General continued, his expression returning to a grim scowl. "If they are willing to deliver them on time of course."
"I may be able to help there General." Wilhelm replied carefully, glancing over at Tanya nervously as Christina finished up bandaging his head wound. It was clear he was reluctant to offer whatever help he was about to propose. "Christina, it's General Gassman that has been organising things in Tripoli, isn't it?"
"Yes, your Highness, along with his aide Colonel Calandro. Captain Zerbist has been doing her best to keep an eye on their activities." The maid replied professionally, rising and taking her place at her master's side now that she had finished her work. "She reports that little has changed about him since you met him at King Manuel III's Reception last year."
Tanya found herself raising an eyebrow, she hadn't realised that Wilhelm knew the Ildoan King. Then again, they were both royalty so she shouldn't really be surprised. His bratty behaviour towards her made it easy to forget that he had so many friends in high places. But why was he reluctant to share this nugget of information? What was he up to?
"The Ildoans aren't withholding our supplies out of malice, they're playing politics with us in the hopes of gaining concessions." Wilhelm explained turning back to General von Romel, "they might be a little worried about an attack from the Free Republic but mostly they want to show us how much we need them."
Wilhelm's gaze caught Tanya's again for a brief second, as though searching for permission to back down. However, she had no clue as to what he was suggesting and even if she did she had no interest in saving him from a little discomfort. He needed to do something to make up for this mess and easing the supply problems would be a good place to start.
"It would mean I'd need to take some time away from the frontlines and I may need to visit Tripoli a few times to make sure things run smoothly. But I think I can persuade General Gassman to be a little more forthcoming with our deliveries." The boy explained, sounding less than pleased by the idea. "They owe a great deal to Letzenbourg's banks; I'm sure I can come to an arrangement on their behalf."
Tanya now understood the boy's reluctance. He would once again have to take himself away from the battlefield and away from the place he could pay off his so-called debt. Another diplomatic mission was precisely what he would be wanting to avoid.
She, however, would have loved the chance to network with high ranking members of friendly militaries and other dignitaries, particularly somewhere so far from the fighting.She wondered if it were simple coincidence or Being X's influence that kept landing them in situations like this. If the latter the false deity had a twisted sense of humour.
Perhaps I can come up with an excuse to tag along with Wilhelm, she thought to herself. He may not be the best company but it would be nice to have a break from frontline duty.
"The Prince will need some time to recover from his head injury before he performs any further duties." Christina cut in with a tone that brooked no argument, even the general seemed disinclined to challenge her on this matter.
"Very well, get rested up and see what you can do." The general replied quickly, "Major Degurechaff, once you and your troops have recuperated I want you to lead a reconnaissance mission to see how far we can strike from here. Judging from your actions so far, I look forward to hearing your observations."
"Yes sir.." They all replied before being dismissed and Tanya felt her heart sink.
So much for trying to get some time away from the front lines.
September 27th Unified Year 1925 08:00
Allied Kingdom Naval Taskforce, Southern Sea, HMS Ark Monarch
Admiral Winters felt cold as Captain Holland delivered the news of the Hood's final fate. Not even the warm air of the southern sea could thaw the blood in his veins as he looked out over the calm waters. The weight of the shame he felt would not allow it.
"How many survived?" Winters asked, dreading the answer he would receive. His orders had doomed so many lives; so many that might have been prevented if he had acted differently.
"Only three sir." The captain replied solemnly, sharing the Admiral's pain. "Very few managed to escape the secondary explosion, the HMS Foresight searched for others, but they were the only ones they managed to pull from the water. I'm told that most chose to stay at their posts, refusing to believe the ship could be sunk and Captain Kerr chose to go down with the ship."
Three out of one twelve hundred Winters grimaced feeling a pain in his chest, the toll was too high, they should have been able to save more of the crew.That they had not was proof of Winters failure to his men.
After leaving Turus he'd ordered the rest of the fleet to make full steam back towards Albion. With the news that the home fleet had engaged the Imperials, he had been ordered to return as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, the damaged Hood would do nothing but slow them down so he'd had her break off and head for Gibraltar for repairs, leaving only the HMS Foresight to escort the stricken battlecruiser.
The destroyer's namesake held a bitter irony.
Even as the fleet left the crew of the HMS Hood were still valiantly fighting the fires and doing what they could to repair the damage caused by those infernal mages. Each man aboard knew the fleet was abandoning them, however, they all bravely continued to do everything they could to keep the pride of the fleet afloat.
In Winters opinion, they were all heroes, but their courageous efforts had not been enough to save the Hood.
The last dispatch from the battleship reported that they were still struggling with an inferno below decks caused by the damage to the forward magazine. Shortly after, the Foresight reported a second explosion and fresh smoke billowing from the deck of the battlecruiser, presumably a result of the fire in its belly. The great ship had sunk within minutes after that, the crew still desperately struggling as the ship slipped beneath the waves.
The Foresight had stayed to pick up the survivors. That had been several hours ago and the number of men rescued was worse than even his most pessimistic estimates. The pride of the fleet gone and twelve hundred dead just to destroy a François port. Was it really worth it?
Winters didn't believe so, the Hood wasn't a normal battleship, it had become a symbol of the power the Allied Kingdom had over the waves. Its loss in such an ignominious manner would be incredibly bad for morale and once the world found out that two mages had destroyed one of the greatest ships in the world, the country would be a laughing stock.
This tragedy was only made worse by the bittersweet news from Jyutland. The Home fleet had seen off the Imperial's but at a great cost of men and ships; the Imperial Fleet had been battered and kept bottled up in Fredrickshaven. However, it was not the decisive victory they had hoped, both sides had retreated to lick their wounds and although damaged, the enemy fleet still posed a potential threat.
The news of the battle was particularly difficult for Winters, and he had begun to wonder if the Hood might have survived had he not abandoned it to rush back to Albion. He could have left more ships and supplies with the Hood, sent over repair and fire control teams, even towed her into port if necessary. If all that had still failed to prevent the second explosion, he could have forced the crew to evacuate rather than stay to try and save the ship. He could have at least prevented some of the deaths.
Winters wasn't usually the sort to second guess his own decisions, he knew there were plenty of others who would be happy to do that for him. However, the loss of the Hood had hit him harder than he cared to admit. After considering his decisions he realised that he was as much responsible for the deaths of those crewmen as the Devil that had caused the damage in the first place. Or the bastard Vianto who had persuaded him to surrender their magical protection and failed to defend them when they needed it most. The weight of command had never felt so heavy as it did today.
"The rumour is already spreading around the fleet, it's making some of the crewmen nervous." Captain Holland continued, seeming equally as dismayed, "One can only imagine the effect on morale when the news will cause when it gets back to the general public. Particularly if they found out how easily the Imperials took her from us."
"I've already spoken the Admiralty." Winters replied quietly, finally breaking his gaze from the ocean below. "The general public are not to find out. Both the Devil of the Rhine's involvement and the true cause of the Hood's fate are to be covered up."
"Covered up?" Holland exclaimed incredulously, "How can we hide the loss of a ship like the Hood? The press will surely notice her absence."
"We won't be hiding that the Hood was lost, just the manner in which it happened." Winters replied rubbing his temples, the stress of the last few days was catching up with him and he could feel a migraine creeping up on him.
"I'm not sure I understand, sir."
Winters was silent for a few moments as he collected his thoughts.
"Tell me, Cedric, how do you think the public would react if they found out the greatest ship in the world was sunk so easily by a pair of Imperial mages?"
Holland began to argue that the question wasn't fair, it wasn't so simple as that and that there were extenuating circumstances. But Winters held his hand up to silence him before bidding him to answer the question.
"They would want an investigation, they would likely question both the leadership of both yourself and the government." He began feeling awkward about disrespecting his superiors. "The loss of the Hood is a major blow to national pride."
"What about if they found out that it was the work of this Devil of the Rhine?"
"If they found out that the Empire had even one mage capable of this sort of destruction, they might rethink the wisdom of fighting this war. There might even be pressure on the government to sue for peace." Holland answered dutifully, before pushing on with what was on his mind. "I understand the need for secrecy sir, but my question was how we keep all this from them?"
"What if the public found out the Hood was lost defending Albion against the Imperial High Seas fleet? That the brave men aboard gave their lives to prevent the home isles being invaded?" Winters continued ignoring Holland's question.
"The loss would still be a blow to morale but I suppose that they would look on it more favourably." Holland answered uncertainly.
"The Admiralty agrees with you, as far as the wider world will know, the Hood and its crew were lost at Jyutland. The list of losses is long enough that their addition won't seem odd." Winters replied unhappily, "We believe the Imperials won't dispute the claim, we're admitting they sunk her after all. If they do, it's their word against ours. As for the Francois, De Lugo would rather not speak of this incident at all, anyone else can be painted as angry and bitter about Turus."
"Still, how can we keep something like this a secret? We might be able to change the official records and contest those of the other nations but sailors talk. It's almost impossible to stop them from gossiping."
"That may be true but sailors are also loyal to each other. They won't reveal the truth about the Hood, they'll see to that themselves."
"I'm afraid I don't understand sir."
"The families of those lost on the Hood will receive their loved ones commendations as well as generous pensions, they will be well looked after. It's what every sailor wants for his family if the worst was to happen." Winters began before frowning darkly, "However, should the shameful nature of how the ship was sunk be revealed, the government cannot guarantee that the welfare of these families will remain its top priority."
Holland looked at Winters with undisguised disgust. He could understand, he felt equally appalled himself. The idea of threatening to cut off the families of the lost sailors to keep the others silent was abhorrent to him but he knew that it would work. As long as everyone stayed quiet the families of the Hood's crew would believe their husbands and sons had died for something and they would be given the money to live comfortably. No sailor could take that from one of his fallen comrades, and any that tried would be swiftly punished by the others, himself included.
"I will impress the importance of this upon the men myself." Winters continued with a sigh. He didn't want to place this burden on any other. "There will be an investigation as to my conduct on this mission and I will likely be punished, but both will occur in secret once we return to Albion."
"I'm sorry to hear that sir; if it means anything you will always have my full support." The captain replied loyally but Winters simply nodded his thanks and remained silent.
"So it will all essentially be an open secret. One that we will police ourselves." Holland continued breaking the silence. It was clear he was still unhappy about the situation but encouraging that he was willing to include himself in the conspiracy. "I understand the necessity sir, but I can't help but feel this is disrespectful to those men's memories."
"I don't disagree with you Cedric, it's a high price to pay for the Royal Navy to save face. But the alternative is letting the world know that the world's finest ship and crew were humiliated by the Devil of the Rhine. We all swore an oath to the Queen and her Navy, perhaps the memory of a few men and the honour of an old Admiral isn't too great of a price."
Holland remained silent, unable to argue further, although part of Winters wished he would.
"The Devil of the Rhine. How can we beat such a powerful enemy?" Holland asked eventually.
"We don't. Wars aren't won by individual soldiers, no matter how powerful or skilled they are."
"They say the Empire was formed from iron and blood but iron can become brittle and anything that bleeds can die. As long as we hold our nerve, and our blockade, the Empire will steadily weaken. That is how we defeat them."
The man seemed to accept this answer and soon excused himself as Winters returned his gaze to the sea thinking about what he had just told Captain Holland. It would take a long time for the Empire to really suffer from the naval blockade, maybe years. What more could the Empire do to them in that time?
August 29th Unified Year 1925
Office of Lieutenant General Kurt von Rudersdorf, General Staff offices, Berlun
Colonel Rerugen always made a point of entering General von Rudersdorf's office very carefully. He was aware he had been given a peculiar honour in that he, much like General Zettour, was allowed to come and go as he pleased without needing to worry about the formalities of knocking. Such was the trust and high regard that the two generals held him in.
Despite this however, he still hadn't quite shaken free of Rudersdorf's intimidating aura. The stories of him losing patience with staffers bothering him with inconsequential matters were still burned into his mind; the General's temper was legendary among the junior officers. Although he was fully aware that anything he brought would be gratefully received, having been vetted personally by him to be certain of its relevance, he still found reason to pause before he entered. Particularly when delivering bad news.
He took a moment to recompose himself and entered the office, only to be greeted by the familiar smoky haze of Rudersdorf's favourite tobacco product. Rerugen's colleagues had often joked that the smell made the general's office seem more like an elite gentlemen's club. A comment that seemed laced with a hint of jealousy now he had been seemingly accepted as a member.
The two generals did not react to his entry, the seldom did now he had been accepted into the "club". Neither did they expect a salute while they were in Rudersdorf's private domain, they both preferred him to be candid with them and respected his opinions causing them to eschew many of the usual military formalities in private. Although Rerugen still preferred to stand respectfully when he was in their presence.
Rerugen was unsurprised to find the pair were sat at a coffee table towards the corner of the office; it was their favoured place to converse whenever Zettour visited. Both were studying various maps and reports over a cup of coffee, with Rudersdorf puffing on a cigar as usual. They seemed lost in conversation and Rerugan found he needed to clear his throat to interrupt as he crossed the room to greet them.
"Sorry to interrupt sir's, but I have the initial report from the Navy on the battle in the Deutsches Meer." Colonel Rerugan reported trying to keep the disappointment from his voice.
As part of the operations division of the General Staff, he had already looked over the field reports so that he could pass on the key information to his superiors, although he knew that both Rudersdorf and Zettour would want to study them in detail. The pair were always very meticulous in their work.
The news hadn't been very encouraging.
"Not good news I assume?" Zettour replied sounding unsurprised as he glanced in Rerugan's direction, although whether he had concluded this fact from his own suspicions or Rerugan's mood he could not say. "Coffee?"
"No thank you sir, and I'm afraid not. At present, the engagement at Jyutland could be described as somewhere between a draw and a close defeat." Rerugan answered, passing on copies of the documents to the two generals.
"The High Seas fleet managed to cause a great deal of damage to Albion's fleet, including heavy casualties amongst their marine mages. Admiral von Leichtenberg reports that the improvements to the anti-air defences recommended by Major Degurechaff were particularly effective in that regard. However, ultimately, they could not break the blockade and were forced to withdraw. Several ships were lost in the process."
"A draw against the Allied Kingdom at sea is a defeat no matter how you look at it." Replied Zettour with a frown as he leafed through the report that Rerugan had given him. "While they maintain their blockade, we can't call it anything else, the lack of supplies from the outside world is manageable for now, but we'll start experiencing severe shortages soon."
"Indeed." Continued Rudersdorf with a sardonic smile as he sucked on his cigar, "although it also finally lays to rest any notion of the High Command forcing through an invasion of the Allied Kingdom, no one would dare recommend it now. It must be nice to be proven right again old friend."
"Quite the opposite, I had hoped that I would be proven wrong." Zettour countered, with a heavy sigh. "I would have been pleasantly surprised if the navy had opened the way for us to end this war. As it is, all we have achieved is a loss of manpower and very expensive equipment."
Zettour began leafing through the pages of the report and his frown deepened as he turned every page. It was hard to argue with the man's assessment, nothing had changed strategically as a result of the naval battle, but they had suffered significant casualties.
"Look at these losses." Zettour continued, "The dreadnoughts SMS Prinz Josef and Regina lost with the Prinzregent Adalbert heavily damaged, the cruisers Wilhelm and Fredric also lost along with damage to several others. We've lost thousands of men and have nothing to show for it. It's the naval equivalent of the attrition on the Rhine, I'm glad they won't be able to try this again."
Zettour sighed again before reaching into his pocket for his cigarette case and lighting himself some tobacco adding to the ever-present smog. He still refused to take any of the cigars that Rudersdorf habitually offered, he'd sworn off that and alcohol until a peace treaty was signed. Rudersdorf however remained content to fill the room with thick cigar smoke.
"Listening to that list of names isn't exactly encouraging news either." The moustachioed general frowned. "We need to stop naming our ships after the Imperial Royal Family; it sounds like a regicide. I hope the propaganda department can spin this so it isn't too damaging to morale or embarrassing for the government."
"I assume they'll be more interested in the Allied Kingdom's losses." Rerugen chimed in, offering some of the good news contained within the report. "From what we can tell, they suffered greater casualties than we did. Although they still have more ships afloat than we do. They've released statements to the Londinium Times confirming as much and even admitting the loss of the HMS Hood."
"The Hood?" Zettour questioned with a raised eyebrow, "I was under the impression she had been sent south."
"We all did sir, however it seems to have been yet another mistake from military intelligence." Rerugen replied with a frown. This was not the first time they had received faulty information from the intelligence branches recently. They weren't even close to recovering the level of efficiency they had before Vice-Admiral Canaris' treachery had been revealed and everyone both in the military and outside it was suffering as a result.
"How are we supposed to fight a war like this?" Rudersdorf grumbled, "We get better information from the enemy's tabloids than we do the Abwehr. Or at least what's left of it."
"Major Degurechaff's report on the capture of Turus, suggests they sent older ships to destroy the port." He continued, "It seemed she managed to cause quite a bit of damage to one of the battleships but she insists that none could be the Hood."
"Well, she's had experience training with the High Seas Fleet, I'm sure she'd know the difference between a ship like the Hood and something less capable." Zettour conceded, it still worried Rerugen how much the man trusted Degurechaff's judgement, part of him still felt having her around was somehow dangerous. Then again, she hadn't steered them wrong so far, and if she hadn't been stopped from acting against the Republic at Brest, they might not be in this mess.
"Let's table the naval battle until we've properly studied the report." Zettour continued placing the document on the top of a pile on the table. There was no question in either general's mind that this wasn't their business. They would use everything in that report to pressure the High Command to limit any future naval activity in the Deutsches Meer. "What's the latest news from the south?"
"We've completed our assessment of the damage to the port." Replied Rerugen, easily switching gears to the new topic whilst shuffling through his files to present the generals with the latest set of reports from von Romel and the officers on the southern continent. "Although Turus was captured without any casualties, the port facilities have been rendered completely unusable. Even with the additional personnel sent for reconstruction, we estimate that it will take a least six months until supplies can be effectively unloaded there."
"So we'll need to continue supplying them through Ildoan ports." Zettour observed rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "They're gaining a worrying amount of control over our supply lines both in the south and the Vaterland. Between the blockade and the sanctions, most of our supplies from the outside world come through them."
"There's nothing we can do about that for the moment." Rudersdorf returned gruffly through a puff of smoke, dismissing the subject. Unlike Zettour, he did not like spending too much time considering situations he himself could not change.
Zettour was correct though, they were becoming increasingly reliant on exorbitant Ildoan imports, however, there was very little they could do about it. Force was out of the question, they couldn't risk the Illdoans cutting them off altogether and diplomatic pressure had its limits. Rerugen suspected they wanted to use the Empire's weakness as a way to further their own territorial ambitions but as of yet, they had not approached them with any deal.
"What's Romel planning now? He knows I don't like when he keeps us guessing." Rudersdorf questioned bidding Rerugan to continue his report.
"General von Romel plans to continue making sorties using Turus as a forward base. Despite the supply problems he believes he will be able to continue to strike at isolated Free Republican assets from there. He also suspects that General De Lugo will have had enough time to regroup by now and may make a move soon, although our intelligence cannot confirm this."
"If the Republican forces have managed to regroup, Romel will be severely outnumbered. Perhaps we should send him more troops?" Rudersdorf suggested but Zettour shook his head.
"With the supply situation as it is, anything more than replacements would slow him down. He's pioneering our new mobile war strategy down there and he seems confident with what he already has."
"Very well." Rudersdorf conceded, "But now an invasion of Albion seems unlikely, we have a lot of troops sat on the coast doing nothing. Nobody's said anything yet, but it won't be long before they'll talk about demobilising. I'm surprised the new finance minister hasn't been complaining about how much it's costing to feed them all."
Both men furrowed their brows at the thought, neither was happy about the prospect of sending the troops home while they were still at war. Mobilising the army to its full strength took several weeks, if they allowed the troops to go home now it would take time to raise them again. Particularly since the bloody first years on the Rhine had robbed them of many of their regular soldiers, a greater proportion of their forces were now conscripts, who took even longer to mobilise.
The Empire had already been caught unawares several times by their ambitious neighbours. Until the war was over they couldn't afford to risk demobilising anyone.
"He has already started dropping hints." Zettour replied with a grin, "We'll have to get the rest of the General Staff to present a united front on this one."
"Perhaps we could slow down recruitment." Rerugen suggested, "As General von Rudersdorf said we currently have troops with nothing more to do than garrison duty we don't need more. We could also put the idle soldiers to work on sea defences. That would at least show High Command the troops are being used."
Zettour seemed to consider this idea for a moment and Reurgen fancied he could almost see the gears in the man's head turning as he thought about the potential effects of his plan. It was no secret in the operations division that Zettour was the main reason the service corps managed to find everything they needed for each operation. At times like this, he felt like he was watching the man mentally reallocating every piece of the Empire's manpower and equipment to measure his solution's merit.
"Not a bad idea, I'll take it under advisement." The General said with a slight smile that Rerugen had learned to mean that the man liked the idea but wanted to be sure before he committed the necessary matériel. Hans von Zettour never promised anything he couldn't deliver.
"If only I could persuade the Letzenbourg troops to stop recruiting." The man continued, "I'd be happy to let them demobilise but their Prime Minister outright refuses."
"The volunteer brigades? The one's based on Prince Wilhelm's mage division?" Rudersdorf asked inquisitively. "I thought we'd solved that problem by only using them to guard Letzenbourg's possessions?"
"They are still causing problems within the areas we've put under Letzenbourg control." Zettour explained. "Discipline is the main problem, their minimum recruitment criteria is all but non-existent so almost anyone is allowed in."
"We can't allow them to undermine us from within. Perhaps we should send some advisors to help smarten them up." Rudersdorf suggested, never one to allow a problem to continue if he could do something about it.
"It might be wise, but we should consider who to send carefully. They'll have a difficult job once they get there, half time they only seem to listen if they think their orders are backed up by Prince Wilhelm."
Rerugen was suddenly reminded of letters he'd seen from both Major Degurechaff and Prince Wilhelm regarding one of the wounded officers from the 203rd. Both had been enquiring about a potential position for First Lieutenant Willibald Koenig. This man just might be the answer to this problem.
His injuries might have been severe enough that he wasn't fit for frontline combat duties, but he should be capable of helping straighten out the Letzenbourg forces. Additionally, since he'd served with the young prince, he would likely gain the respect of these soldiers more easily than most others would.
"I think I may have an appropriate candidate in mind general." Rerugen interjected, causing questioning glances from the men before he explained his pick.
"We'll have to arrange a promotion for him but I see no problems with your choice." Zettour replied, seemingly pleased with Rerugen's suggestion. "I'll leave you to handle the details."
The room fell silent as the two men seemed to lose themselves in thought and tobacco smoke.
"Can you see a quick way out of this war Kurt?" Zettour asked taking a drag of his cigarette while staring absently at the ceiling. "You were always better at cutting to the heart of the problem than me."
Rudersdorf was quiet for a long time as he looked at the large assemblage of maps and reports on the table. Pausing only to deposit the ash from his cigar into a nearby ashtray.
"I cannot." The moustached man said eventually, bringing his cigar to his lips. "But for the moment at least, we're still on the winning side.
40 years after the war
WTN studios, Greys inn road, Londinium
Andrew stared down at the messy bunch of papers in front of him unhappily. All were covered in a mess of crossed-out words, incomplete or underlined sections and angrily worded annotations from the programming director. His attempts to write a new script that both pleased his boss and came somewhat close to reflecting the truth was not going well.
They'd had to cut a great deal from the show since the director had come down on them. Andrew had lost a great deal of freedom of how to run the program and no longer had the final say of what he was and wasn't allowed to include. The script had become a shadow of its former self, filled with holes and unsupported facts. Without the correct information to back up their claims, much of the script no longer made any sense and Andrew was now faced with the prospect of rewriting the show to fit with the official story provided by the government.
He didn't like it, it was bad journalism. But if he wanted to complete the series before he retired, he didn't have much of a choice.
"This is bullshit Andrew, and you know it!" Maggie paced the room angrily like a caged lioness, barely able to keep her temper in check. She couldn't blame her, almost all of what had been removed had been the fruits of the sterling research she had done on the project. She'd worked so hard and managed to dig up more than anyone else. Even persuading the three surviving eyewitnesses to come forward.
How could she not be angry after seeing all that effort wasted? And he hadn't even given her the worst news yet.
"This is censorship! You were the one that taught me that we were supposed to stand against that sort of thing!" She cried, struggling not to raise her voice. "Why aren't you fighting this?"
Her words stung, mostly because he knew she was right. He'd spoken to students at Oxford University about the importance of showing the people the truth when Maggie had still been studying there. He'd rallied against censorship of all kinds and drummed into them the importance of showing the world inconvenient truths. It was one of the reasons he'd wanted to make the program about Arene in the first place, to show things weren't black and white, right and wrong. Arene had been legal after all, man's laws absolved those who took part. Only God could judge if it were truly a crime.
The truth could be painful but ultimately everyone would be better for hearing it; he truly believed that. It hurt to be forced to roll over like this, it went against everything he had worked for. However, it had to be done; she hoped she would forgive him.
"The Director says that the eyewitnesses retracted their statements." Andrew replied, feeling dirty for siding with the man. "They say they were coerced."
"Coerced!" Maggie stopped pacing and marched towards him, slamming her hands on the desk. "Like hell! You were there when I interviewed them! You saw them! They were ashamed! They hated that those men's deaths were covered up! I know what that bastard Jacob thinks of me, but you saw those men, they weren't lying!"
Andrew flinched slightly under the young woman's fury. Again, she was right; he was there. He'd watched the pained look on their faces when they'd first asked about that day. He'd seen them pause as if considering if telling them was the right thing to do and he'd seen the mixture of sadness and relief after the weight of the secret had been passed on, absolving them of their pain. Every journalistic instinct he had told him they hadn't made it up. The Director was wrong, there was so much that was being hidden from them and after all these years some of it was starting to come to light.
However, after the last conversation he'd had with the programming director, he knew he wouldn't win this fight. He needed more proof.
"Without their testimonies, the rest of the evidence we found doesn't make sense; too much is still classified. That's why we have to go back to the official story." Andrew said trying to avoid her gaze. It was only a half-lie, but he knew Maggie could see through him easily. He couldn't bring himself to look at her expression when she did.
"Without their testimonies, we're just spouting lies! We might as well write science fiction!" She continued desperately, her green eyes imploring him to tell her what he knew. "Why did they really change their minds? You know don't you?"
Andrew's mind flickered to a recent phone conversation with his friend General Drake. He'd asked his old friend for some advice after the incident with the director. He too had wanted to know the reason why they changed their minds, or why they had kept such a big secret for so long in the first place. He'd hoped that as a soldier Drake might understand the reasoning of these men.
"Sometimes the secrets of soldiers aren't meant to be shared." He answered weakly, parroting what Drake had said to him but without the weight and sadness behind it. He knew it wouldn't be enough.
"Is that it? Did that General friend of yours tell you that?" She yelled rising from the desk and stalking towards the tea urn by the filing cabinet on the other side of the office. She'd only met Drake once when Andrew had invited them both for a drink, neither had gotten along with each other very well. Drake said she reminded her of someone he'd served with during the war, but hadn't elaborated further.
Andrew didn't answer her and the room fell silent, save for the sound of Maggie pouring herself a cup of tea. Andrew had nothing to say, no way he could argue against her. Everything she had said was right, and in normal circumstances, he'd have been by her side helping fight her corner. However, there was a lot at stake here, for both of them.
"I'm sorry Andrew, I know I shouldn't be angry at you." Maggie said eventually, calming herself slightly, "but it's so frustrating. I know you, you'd never let threats stop you from reporting what you want. You'd broadcast what the witnesses said and damn the consequences! What's the real reason we can't air this?"
Andrew winced instinctively, he knew this question was coming; Maggie was too shrewd not to see there was more to this situation than met the eye. That was one of the things that made her a good journalist; he just wished that he wasn't the current target of her keen insight.
"Maggie, I'm getting old, I'm going to retire soon. After the success of the Arene report, I wanted to make a whole series on the war, to leave something more permanent behind than the nightly news report." He replied with a sigh.
This much at least was true, he'd always been proud of his journalistic achievements but as he edged closer and closer to his retirement he had begun to realise that most things he had reported on would be lost to time. Buried in the vaults of WTN's records rooms and forgotten about. He'd wanted to leave something behind, a way for future generations to learn about the truth. When the Great War records started being released to the public he had seen his chance. A documentary about those turbulent times, a way to tell the story of those who had lived it and those who had not survived.
"I knew I'd have to make a few sacrifices to get it finished." He continued not daring to bring his gaze to the young woman in front of him. "I suppose this is just one of them."
The room was silent again for what seemed like an eternity while Andrew hid his face from Maggie's deepening scowl. She didn't believe him and he wasn't surprised. He'd always been better at uncovering the truth than hiding it.
"If this is really your great work to leave to the world before you retire, why would you accept anything less than the truth?" She asked in an accusatory growl. "At the very least you wouldn't accept that idiot Jacob taking creative control from you!"
Damn, she saw right through me he thought feeling his stomach clench with anxiety.
"It isn't like you Andrew. There's more to this and I won't leave you alone until you tell me."
Andrew slumped feeling defeated, he'd wanted to avoid this, to protect her. However, Maggie's own tenacity meant that he had no other choice but to reveal everything to her. Perhaps it was better this way, he was the one that said it was better to hear a painful truth than keep it hidden, yet that was what he had been trying to do for Maggie.
"It's because of you Maggie." He said quietly staring down at his desk forlornly. "You're the reason I had to accept them taking so much control from me."
Maggie stared at him with a mixture of disbelief and horror; her mouth agape and no longer able to make noise after hearing Andrew's words. She staggered as if she'd been struck and Andrew rushed from his seat to help her but her hand found the filing cabinet and she steadied herself. She looked up at him imploringly as he approached, her green eyes silently and desperately asking him to take back the words. Then tears began to form as she realised that he couldn't.
"Why?" She asked as Andrew pulled her into a protective hug. "I don't understand."
"Director Jacob wanted you off the team, in truth, he doesn't want you at WTN at all. I had to agree to surrender all control to keep you here."
"Why? You just told me that you wanted this program to be your legacy." She asked, a hint of anger returning as she pushed him away.
"An old man's legacy isn't as important as an up and coming young woman's career." He replied with an encouraging smile. He would be disappointed but he knew Maggie had it in her to be something great one day, and he would do anything he could to help that happen. "They may not appreciate you yet but WTN is the best place for you to make a name for yourself, you just need to be patient."
Maggie was silent and shook slightly as tears ran down her cheeks. Andrew watched her clench her fingers into fists as she wrestled with the emotions running through her. Andrew could only imagine how she felt. He'd had his fair share of run-ins with the bosses in his time but he'd never had his integrity questioned quite as much as they did her.
"I couldn't do that to you Andrew." She said eventually, eyes tightly shut in an attempt to halt the flow of tears. "I'll resign in the morning, maybe they'll let you take over again."
"Maggie please, you can still make a great career for yourself." Andrew began to protest but was halted as Maggie's eyes snapped open and her emerald eyes flared with the familiar flicker of defiance.
"I have years to build my career, and one way or another I'll get what I know I deserve." She said turning and shooting Andrew a confident smile. "I couldn't let my mentor lose his magnum opus for my sake."
As he looked into her eyes, he knew he had lost. Maggie had always been stubborn, but she always followed through with her decisions no matter what the consequences. He was proud of her for that, but he would be sad to see her go.
"I'm sorry Maggie, I know you were looking forward to the program about the massacre at Tripoli." Said sadly, knowing it would be futile to try and make her change her mind but was surprised when the young woman began laughing.
"Oh, if you think I'm giving up working on the program you're sorely mistaken." She chuckled, her eyes burning with defiance once more. "If I left you to finish it on your own, I'll have died of old age before it's complete."
Andrew smiled, seeing Maggie bounce back lifted all the earlier tension from the air in an instant.
"I'll have to keep it from Jacob, and I won't be able to pay you." He warned, "Do you have any other jobs lined up?"
"You think this dump is the only place that will have me?" She chuckled, before putting on a faux haughty tone. "As it happens, I was already considering an offer from the Times."
"Really? I thought you despised the newspapers because they don't give you proper stories to work on." Andrew questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"This time it's different, they've already told me what I'll be doing. I'll have a regular article."
"Oh?"
It was unusual for Maggie to seem quite excited about a job, and Andrew's curiosity had been well and truly piqued.
"If I take the offer, I'll be interviewing successful women of the world. Which may in fact be useful for your program." She replied with a grin, while Andrew found himself staring at her in confusion.
"I'll be headed for Germania in a few weeks."
Author's notes
Hello everyone and as always thank you all for reading, reviewing, following and favouriting.
I promised I'd get this chapter out quite soon after the last one and I'm happy to say that I have. I found this one the easiest to write for quite some time so I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.
I know not everyone likes the whole cover-up/no one knows about the Devil of the Rhine thing, even if it is canon. So I've tried to evolve it a little bit to fit with what I'm doing with Maggie and Andrew. However, I understand if people still find it difficult to believe that so many people wouldn't talk about the Hood and such. All I would say is there were things from WW2 such as the Maisy battery that was not rediscovered until 2004 and there are still some files that have yet to be declassified. That said, I can understand why it would still be difficult to believe.
I may need to go back and change a few dates in the previous chapters as I don't want to spend too much more time on the south. I have been using the timeline of the LN and have realised there is a big gap between the southern battle and the Russy invasion. Since I planned on following the movie route (where the russys invade soon after the southern battle) I feel like I need to rearrange events slightly to fit them in properly.
Again, I know not everyone likes how much the movie crams in (me included), however, if I stick to the LN timeline I'll never finish so I'll do my best with what I have. Besides, I'm looking forward to swapping the sand for snow.
Hope you are still enjoying my story and thank you again for reading.
Xanen