Chapter 71, The Foreign Office, 10 December 1936
Sir Samuel Hoare was not, really, enjoying his new job (or, to be accurate, his old job, to which he had been reappointed). The Foreign Office seemed wary of him, the sins of the past not fully forgiven, the ghosts of earlier scheming, shabby deals still lingering in the corridors.
And now this. The request for an audience from the American Ambassador, which could only mean further trouble. He sighed as the professional head of the Foreign Office, its Permanent Under Secretary, Sir Robert Vansittart, cheerfully entered with a bundle of papers.
“Foreign Secretary,” Vansittart said with levity, “we live to fight another day. Survival indeed.”
Hoare snorted. “Define ‘survival’. With the Labour members running back to Attlee we’re entering a desperate final stretch, I fear,” he said gravely. “What’s the gossip in the Civil Service?”
Vansittart, who had to play a ‘longer game’ than Hoare, pursed his lips and smiled ruefully. “Winston’s whereabouts are something of a mystery,” he said mischievously. “And the domestic chaps are flapping about next week.”
“The return of Parliament?” There was a nervous, jittery tone to Hoare.
“Quite. Will it happen, will the PM play another trick. Difficult to plan for the future when one doesn’t know what’s happening beyond Tuesday.”
Hoare suddenly pulled out a notebook from his desk drawer and scribbled furiously for thirty seconds. “I’m recording my decisions,” he explained, “future generations will know that I acted in the public interest.”
“Ah,” Vansittart said knowingly. “Nothing much in the news overnight, although there are a couple of despatches I’d like to go through. You saw the one from Clerk?”
“About the French meeting with Schacht?”
“Indeed.”
Hoare rolled his eyes. “We’ve looked at the colonial issue before, I’m annoyed that Blum has decided to make an issue of it.”
“We might be asked to give an opinion,” Vansittart said carefully.
“I’m not taking this to Cabinet,” Hoare said defensively, “it’s not,” he yelped hysterically, “as if there is much of a cabinet to take it to. Repeat the line Ormsby-Gore and the Plymouth Commission made earlier in the year.”
“The Plymouth
Committee,” Vansittart said in gentle correction. “I shall inform our Embassies in Berlin, Paris and our mission to the League to reiterate that, in our view,” he said, now reading from his prepared notes, “that although Germany would undoubtedly obtain certain advantages from the return of certain former colonies, these advantages would be smaller than she expects.”
Hoare nodded, and scribbled another passage in his notebook. “I think it worth repeating the migration point, Sir Robert.”
“Alright, so while a temporary stimulus would be offered to her export trade, and there would be limited opportunities for employment of the upper-middle class, she would, on the other hand, not be able to send out any substantial number of emigrants.”
“And the raw materials point,” Hoare said in afterthought.
“And,” Vansittart said, acknowledging with a nod, “she would obtain comparatively little in the way of raw materials.”
“Agreed,” Hoare said tersely. “Any news of Spain?”
“Nothing new from Sir Henry Chilton. The Spanish Government…”
“…the Republic leadership,” Hoare said testily.
“No attempts to relieve Madrid.”
Hoare raised an eyebrow. “Nearly two months under siege,” he said to no one in particular. “Remind me, our Embassy is…”
“…already evacuated to Hendaye, on the French border. “It looks like the Republicans could get a bashing.”
Hoare, who, like most of the Conservatives, favoured the Nationalists, nodded. “Chilton shares our views,” he said, his mind still racing, “but I wonder if a sympathetic British Ambassador is enough.”
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m not sure, perhaps we should turn on the overture to Franco again.”
“Having turned it off,” Vansittart’s tone was accusatory.
“I just wonder,” Hoare said as he scribbled in his notebook, “if we should at least try and get an avenue to the Nationalists. But whatever is done must be something that the bloody socialists and Liberals can’t see. Cabinet is not the place for this,” he said, quietly.
Vansittart frowned and looked at his watch. “They should be here now.” As if summoned magically by Vansittart, ‘Chips’ Channon, a nervous looking First Lord of the Admiralty (and American born) arrived, taking a corner and, hovering by a window, sneaking furtive glances.
“He won’t come in that way,” Hoare snapped. Channon, chastened, retreated to a nearby couch.
There was an assertive knock at the door and Ralph Stephenson entered; he has tried to succeed in this new regime and given the strains between Hoare and Vansittart had palpably obvious ambitions of advancement.
“Sir Samuel, Ambassador Bingham is here. Do you want me in the meeting?”
“No, no, Stephenson,” Hoare said imperiously, “I can deal with Bingham.” Realising that this might alienate Stephenson, one of his few real supporters, he forced a tight smile. “By the way, thank you for your briefing note, it was very well written.”
Stephenson, mollified, retreated, before returning with the tall, thin frame of Robert Worth Bingham, the Ambassador of the United States to the Court of St James.
“Sir Samuel,” Bingham began with an outstretched hand, “strange to see you back here. I was just getting used to Eden,” it was as warm a greeting as Hoare, who with Chamberlain and Simon had been the anti-Americans of the National Government, was going to get.
“Ambassador,” Hoare said coldly, offering the briefest of handshakes. “You of course know Henry Channon, my successor as First Lord of the Admiralty.”
“Everyone know ‘Chips’,” Bingham said, matching Hoare’s diffidence. Hoare frowned. Channon, caught between the two older men, merely nodded. Vansittart, stood back, out of the way, smirked.
“Shall we attend to business, gentlemen,” Hoare began. “On behalf of the Prime Minister and His Majesty’s Government please convey to President Roosevelt our congratulations at his election victory,” Hoare said crisply. “My PUS has informed me that it was a historic landslide.” Channon offered his most charming smile.
“Forty-five states carried,” Channon said with transparent insincerity, “quite the achievement.”
“Forty-six,” Bingham, who seemed slightly ‘put out’ (perhaps, Hoare wondered, they should have offered him tea) said coldly. Vansittart, who seemed amused by the Americans’ bickering, coughed politely but pointedly. Hoare looked quickly at his notes and back again.
“Well yes, as Henry here says, quite the achievement. As is, I suppose, is having a son of Chicago leading the largest navy on Earth,” this put down, delivered with acidic viciousness, was directed at Channon, whose charming smile faded. “Your Embassy said that this was important? And I presume that your suggestion for Henry’s,” he gestured at Channon, “presence here denotes a maritime flavour?”
Wordlessly Bingham presented a letter which he handed directly to Hoare. “Foreign Secretary, First Lord,” Bingham began stiffly in a soft, lightly southern accent, “on behalf of President Roosevelt I issue this statement of our concern at your proposed violation of the Second London Naval Treaty.” Hoare looked at Vansittart, who raised an eyebrow. Channon raised two. “I am also instructed by my Government to formally warn you that any attempt to expand the Royal Navy beyond the treaty limits will render, if it continues, a serious breach of goodwill between our nations.”
Channon was ashen but Hoare, who had experience of receiving robustly worded diplomatic measures, merely nodded, coolly. “Was that all?”
Bingham thought for a moment and looked directly at Channon, not Hoare. “We know that you’ve revisited your fourteen-inch battleships,” he said accusingly, “and are hearing alarming rumours about a new battleship design, and a new heavy cruiser.”
Hoare made to speak but Channon blurted out “you cannot pretend that the Royal Navy’s old battleships are sufficient for the next decade.”
Hoare looked, briefly, furious but then regained his composure. “Thank you Henry, I believe that I have this.”
“Foreign Secretary,” Bingham said, in as equal a tone as he could muster, “you held the conference, you signed the treaty. Your new battleships were designed with that in mind. You knew what you were doing.”
Channon blanched but Hoare was coolly in command. “Thank you, Ambassador, His Majesty’s Government will look to its own needs, as must the United States with her navy. Now if that is all, I will of course raise this at Cabinet. I anticipate that they will offer nothing beyond the response that you have heard today. Good day, Sir.” He rose to signal the end of the meeting. Bingham, the hint received, stalked from the room.
“Well,” Hoare said with more than a hint of sarcasm, “that was jolly. Tea, Henry?”
“Are you
sure we’re doing the right thing with the new battleship designs and Winston's heavy cruisers?”
Hoare rolled his eyes. “Henry
you are the First Lord. I have relinquished that position…”
“…but,” Channon, who felt that endured too much scorn from the older man, finally snapped. “You agree with Winston, don’t you?” Hoare sat, still as a cat baiting a mouse. He knew the game and knew Channon. Sure enough, Channon could not contain himself. “Winston’s view is that everyone will break the treaties anyway, we may as well use this time to complete the first two fourteen inchers. And then there is the new design…”
“Ah yes, I understand that DNC is rushing something through as we speak. Sixteen inchers, slightly bigger. But it’s
your department, Henry, you lead it.” He paused, still toying with the younger, less experienced man. “Just what is the plan with the new heavy cruiser class?”
“Bigger guns, Winston says, at least eight, eight inchers,” Channon, clearly a proxy for Churchill and others, recited rather than came up with the words.
"That's hardly radical, the Yorks have six, and the Kents already have eight. All eight inchers."
"Yes, b-but better designed. Learning from the earlier vessels. Maybe nine or twelve, triple turrets."
Hoare feigned both interest and surprise. “Ah, a redesign of the gun system,” he said without enthusiasm. "Has Winston told you the names for these cruisers?"
"Well we thinking Blenheim," Channon said, as if unsure.
There was a knock at the door. “Enter,” Hoare said with relief.
“Sir Samuel,” Stephenson, entering hesitantly, offered, then remembered Channon. “Mr Channon.”
“Yes, Ralph, what is it?”
“Downing Street’s compliments, and are you available to attend the PM this afternoon.”
Channon looked down at his shoes, and spoke first. “I’m at a meeting, er, with, ah, the Navy. Yes! The Navy!”
Hoare smiled at Stephenson. “Please convey to the PM my apologies, but I will here attending to the business of state.”
“Regarding which,” Vansittart said pointedly.
“Quite,” Hoare rose, and walked, with Vansittart, to another room.
====
It was a truism common to Foreign Secretaries that certain things weren’t done in one's personal office and Hoare, on the fussier side of Cabinet politician, adhered to this rule. They went into a small reading room where another figure, anonymous in the sombre suit of the Whitehall insider, rose with a tight grin.
“Admiral,” Hoare said testily, practically falling into a chair. “I trust you are well?”
“Quite well, Foreign Secretary,” Sinclair said with as little passion in response as Hoare had used in questioning him.
“Good. Now then. The Hague, yes?”
“Yes, Foreign Secretary. Van and I wanted you to be briefed on the latest in this incident.”
“This was the suicide of your chap there, the, the,” he clicked a finger, inviting one of the others to add the detail.
“As is standard practice,” Vansittart said with an air of authority, “he was the Passport Control Officer.”
Hoare nodded, not really caring. “I trust we now know
why he took his life?”
Sinclair seemed to squirm. “Yes we do.”
Hoare, irritated by the meeting with Channon and Bingham, was not in the mood for obfuscation. “Well?”
“Major Dalton appears to have been blackmailed by one of the Embassy staff, a John Hooper.”
“One of
your people in the Embassy!” Vansittart half shouted this, angrily.
“Fine, fine,” Hoare said, focussed on Sinclair. “Continue,” he snapped.
“Hooper worked out that Dalton was embezzling passport office money.”
Hoare was writing in his notebook. “How much?”
Sinclair really did squirm. “Three thousand pounds.” Vansittart’s eyes were raised skyward.
“And,” Hoare snapped, “there is no way of recouping or reacquiring that money?”
“It’s gone,” Vansittart said in airy dismissal.
“Any press involvement?” Hoare stared at Sinclair as he asked this.
“None, that we know of,” Sinclair confirmed.
“Well that’s one thing,” Hoare said with a measure of relief.
“There is more, Foreign Secretary,” Vansittart said in measured direction, looking from Hoare to Sinclair.
“Hooper,” Hoare said immediately.
“Hooper,” Sinclair said, surprised that Hoare had grasped the problem. “We dismissed him, on FO orders.”
“And…” Hoare’s voice was icily polite.
“It would appear that he has vanished.”
“Without a debrief?”
“Sadly,” Sinclair said calmly.
“A failure then,” Hoare said with finality, “like the rest of our recent escapades. You have a new man in place?”
“Yes, a good hand, Monty Chidson…”
“…I really don’t care,” Hoare said dismissively. “He is to keep his head down, no mad adventures, no more blackmailable conduct.” He looked at Vansittart. “And that is why, Sir Robert, I think we’re best to cancel the Franco overture.”
Sinclair looked relieved. “A sound decision.”
“Is it? I had wanted to at least make a connection, should his side prevail. But in light of your other failures, we are one newspaper article away from ruin.” He picked up a Beaverbrook owned paper which he threw at Sinclair. “Another story about Kell’s lot. I will do whatever it takes to keep you out of this sort of scandal. But you must, you must, Admiral, get your house in order.” Hoare rose, and without another words strode from the room. Vansittart signalled to Sinclair to wait, and then half ran to catch up with Hoare.
“You were hard on him,” Vansittart said in gentle admonition.
“Not hard enough. Spies getting caught up in Portuguese Navy mutinies, this nonsense in Holland.” He looked back at the reading room. “That man has no control over his agents.”
====
GAMES NOTES
Another multi-issue update with four elements of international affairs asserting themselves.
But first to the strains on this makeshift administration. This is not a unified, capable little Cabinet. On the contrary, it is cobbled together around the loose desire to do something to help the King. The tears in the fabric are showing; Hoare and Channon, both right-wingers, both ambitious, aren’t collegiate, and that’s before the other Tory (and then Labour and Liberal) members get their say. Making policy is nigh on impossible.
The first bit of news is the easiest; Roosevelt wins the ’36 presidential election. Not a surprise, and I think that the chaos in the UK would not alter (more than a few votes here and there) the result. Even I, an irredeemable election watcher, cannot get excited about this and I therefore tied the British response up with the game event of an American protest and Britain ramping up her Naval production. It was a remarkable victory, an overwhelming landslide, that gives Roosevelt another four years (and what crucial years they were!). It would appear that, in the real ’36, Britain’s response was rather muted, and so it is here. Hoare and Bingham would have known each other quite well, Bingham reminds me, in look and (probably) temperament to Woodrow Wilson and I apologise if I am doing a disservice my making him a rather vinegary character.
I am due, I know, some navy fun, so the technics are absent (as they would have been in a real meeting) but here I can, at least, trail the British revision to what would be the KG5s, hinting at another, larger class of vessel to succeed / accompany these revised vessels. Would Churchill have done this? Would Channon have acquiesced? The answer to both, I am convinced, is ‘yes’; Churchill, whatever department he was leading, constantly meddled in military matters (for more and less spending, and to good and ill effect) so it is a given that here, as (almost jointly with the PM) one of the most powerful men in the Empire, and as concerned as he is with the treaty limitations upon the Empire, he would push for a rethink. Will this give the UK more / better capital ships? It might, but there will be a trade-off; HOI4 is actually harder than reality on the large maritime powers – it is nigh on impossible on a ’36 start for the UK (and others) to achieve a realistic fleet (i.e. replicate what they had in reality) by 1940. I think that another interesting chat with Chatfield is on the cards, as he was heavily involved in the design that would become HMS King George V. He was also a proponent of maritime airpower – and the Fleet Air Arm / RAF battle has yet to really be debated here (I've kind of assumed it would run more or less OTL). A lot to consider. In game terms, this was the moment where I had to deviate from the norm – I continued on the G & H destroyers, but very soon I will play with all capital ship (actually anything above light cruiser) design. Channon is useless here and this is not entirely his fault; he has been propelled by his friendship with the King into a position he is not at all ready for, and how much of a role he will actually play in the review of maritime strategy is to be debated.
What is fact, not conjecture, is the Nationalist gains in Spain and the Republicans (or their leadership) being surrounded in Madrid. This did happen around the time of the US election (and, in this game, the American protest) so I wrapped it up in the update to keep you abreast of that war. Hoare has inherited, of course, neutrality as a policy although many in the Cabinet favour the Nationalists; Hoare is right to want to keep anything that he is planning away from Cabinet, as the Labour and Liberal members would resist, and that could bring down this most perilous of administrations.
Colonial appeasement, of the sort mentioned here, was an ongoing ‘sidebar’ to the larger European debates. Hjalmar Schact went on something of a colonial crusade in late 1936, influencing Briton and French alike to agree to a revision of Versailles and a return of some/all of Germany’s former colonies to her. The discussion between Schact and the French in December 1936 happened, and the British reaction in OTL was as frustrated and irritated as I have shown here. I remain, FWIW, convinced that the Nazis didn’t really care about reacquiring their lost African and Asian colonies; I think it a useful tactic for assessing British (and French) resolve, and for perhaps securing Anglo-French agreement as a basis to do nasty things in Europe. I also suspect a significant element of Nazi internal politics at play (particularly among Goering, Ribbentrop and Schact). What is true is that 1936 saw varying efforts to clarify both the precise shape of German demands and the Anglo-French capability for accepting them. Probably the most significant was the Plymouth Report; this was triggered by Eden Baldwin at the height of the Rhineland tension in March 1936. Eden wrote to Baldwin suggesting that the time had now come when 'a memorandum ought to be prepared considering the question of the possible transfer of a colonial mandate or mandates to Germany in all its aspects'. Baldwin, ever keen to avoid knee-jerk decisions, agreed but cannily buried it in a sub-committee of the Committee of Imperial Defence. Even more cannily/cannier, he gave it to Lord Plymouth, the Parliamentary Under Secretary of State for Colonies. A nice enough human being, but not a ‘big beast’ and relatively obscure, he diligently and slowly amassed the evidence. His committee was composed of representatives from the Foreign Office, the Colonial Office, the Dominions Office, the War Office, the Admiralty, the Air Ministry and the Board of Trade.
When the report was finally published, it was a tome, utterly unrecognisable from Eden’s desired ‘memorandum’. At a whopping 36 pages long with 8 appendices, it was a thorough survey of the colonial question in Anglo-German relations until that time and fully examined all the courses open to the British government (as well as their advantages and disadvantages). For the first time, the extent of Germany's colonial demands was now estimated as being the return of all her former colonies (perhaps with new acquisitions), something of a bombshell to a Britain anticipating a degree of latitude and room for negotiation. It was, critically, rather frank in accepting that while restitution of colonies would be popular to Germany, it didn’t really reach to 'really deep-rooted feelings', a frank admission that the Germans weren’t as bothered as often made out. It also, in my view rather bravely, raised the obvious point: what would Britain (and France, as well as Portugal, Belgium and anyone else expected to shut up and give away territory) gain in return for this imperial giveaway? It was difficult to see what concessions return that could be binding upon her as the price for transferring territory (this lack of an obvious way of making Germany stick to her agreements is of course the overarching and critical weakness of appeasement). Concerns were also raised about the likely conduct of Germany towards her new possessions. The British, IMHO rightly, adopted an approach in which all discussion of colonial restitution was avoided and dodged (although Chamberlain, upon assuming the Premiership, reopened the question).
And then we end with our first meeting with ‘C’, the Head of the British Secret Intelligence Service (albeit in largely silent cameo) in a while; he featured in an earlier chapter on the Rhineland militarisation, but has been largely absent from the AAR. His meeting with Hoare comes at a bad time for the spies; by the late 1930s British overseas intelligence gathering was largely based (officially) around the Passport Control Officers working out of British embassies; the military, India and Vansittart did maintain their own networks, but the PCOs were the official effort. The limitations of this system were known, even in 1936, a particularly bad year when the SIS station in the Netherlands collapsed, twice. Major Hugh Dalton (not the Labour MP!), the PCO in the Hague, was a man with an excellent World War I intelligence record, and theoretically a safe pair of hands. He nevertheless succumbed to financial temptations and, as discussed, embezzled almost £3000 of passport office money (around £225,000 today) by September 1936, when he committed suicide under pressure from a blackmailer on his own staff, John Hooper. After a brief investigation, Hooper was dismissed (he will resurface and I may cover it, so won’t say much more). Neither Chidson, who relieved Dalton, or Stevens, who relieved Chidson shortly into his tenure, improved matters and the SIS team in The Hague saw double agents, Abwehr infiltration and surprising incompetence right up until the start of the OTL war. Hoare wouldn’t routinely, I suspect, receive such a briefing but with all of Whitehall alert to further scandal I think he would bow to Vansittart’s entreaties to listen to Sinclair over the Dalton affair. What is not clear is what effect this will have on Sinclair or SIS; given that the Dell and the Security Service have imploded I doubt that the spies will escape further scrutiny.
But of course, none of that will happen in this Government, where decisions have to be delayed and the Whitehall apparatus is consumed with survival. The Civil Service in 1936 is good, but it lacks the mass to really compensate for the collapse of Parliamentary authority and the paralysis of decision making. This is one of the elements that the Abdication decision tree does very well in HOI4.
Absolutely. They've been singing of Andrew for over ten years, and Camillia for the last thirty. What they sang at the launch of the Prince of Wales, when both were in attendance, I really have no idea.
Calling one of Camilla's regiments (i.e. that she was the Colonel-in-Chief of) "Camilla's Gorillas" was a masterstroke. I think it may be the Rifles, but I will check.
Quite obviously I come down on the side of Eddie's concern all being an act. If he gave a damn about anyone else the country wouldn't be in the current crisis, that much is clear. For the rest, I think the Royal Household will be counting that visit as mediocrity snatched from the jaws of defeat, which is probably the best they could hope for given the character of the King and the people being met.
Mildly intrigued by the threatened different destroyer development, I look forward to finding out about that and of course Winston's other meddling.
So I do fluctuate on this; reading Jane Ridley's excellent biography of George V (from which I have nicked a plot idea or two) I was struck by in one chapter David was an atrociously rude and devious little schemer, and then on another page he was charm and empathy personified. He's a difficult little character.
On the ships, we'll get through the political crisis and then the Navy, along with everything else, will be high on the new PM's list of priorities.
At the risk of summoning multiple eldritch abominations, how bad could it be?
BAD!
Something will need to be done eh? Well I am certain a nice big conflict might do something about unemployment but I'm not sure the people of Jarrow would be comforted much by that.
The shipbuilding bit of the North East had an interesting WW2. Tyneside and Wearside weren't bombed to the scale that the South Coast cities (and of course London) were, and the fact that most of the working men were in protected occupations (the vital war work of shipbuilding and coal mining) meant that their experience was slightly off that of the UK average. It's something that comes up quite a lot up there; while there was a share of men serving (largely in the RN or Merchant Navy, from what I have seen/heard) a lot of them didn't leave their homes, and did more or less the same jobs as before.
Winston could bring back HMS Incomparable. A 1000ft long battlecruiser with 20" guns and capable of 35 knots while actually having some (but probably not enough) armour. That said, as I understand the HOI4 naval mechanics that sort of design would probably work in game even if it would be a terrible idea in reality.
So at the moment we're saying yes to the slightly rejigged (nothing massive in game terms, still with 14" guns) KGVs (or Marlborough Class in this TL), but only two, and then at least two of a new class, probably with a 16" (perhaps based on those used on Nelson/Rodney). These will easily breach the treaties. Winston has also raised the notion of a new range of heavy cruisers, nothing radical (yet) and probably based on the Kents/Yorks (but making the most of developments in the decade since their design). We've also, don't forget, an additional Ark Royal Class carrier (Audacious).
Was he even a supporter of that back then? Yes he sanctioned a lot of Fisher’s crazy, but there were some limits.
It would work but it'd also be pointless, because navies are hard countered by aircraft in the game to a degree where you can make no sail zones across any tile you can get planes to. And planes are much cheaper, both in resources, time to build and manpower. And faster to move.
Having been scared of the naval mechanics in HOI4 for some time, I was a little relieved that despite an entire dlc based around them, they are almost compeltly irrelevant in the mid to late game.
I've had some really fun naval battles, largely the RN (of course!) battering away with cruisers etc against similar enemy forces. I've also seen a few games where the German AI clearly checks out and we get the Battle of the Atlantic - in reverse, with the RN/French sinking every German convoy stupid enough to try and get through GIUK or the Channel.
By the time Incomparable came around Churchill had been forced out of the Admiralty, so hard to say. But then again Incomparable was a sketched out idea and probably never had a single designer or engineer seriously look at it, I believe it was as more of an opening bid (which would be talked down to something realistic) rather than a serious proposal.
For an actual serious OTL proposals that Churchill did support, the ones that come to mind are the very heavy cruisers (15,000t, nine 8" guns and armour to match) or the Super Cruiser (22,000t, twelve 9." guns). Both fast naturally at 33knts as Churchill seemed to have retained Fisher's preference for speed, if not to the same overwhelming extent. The very heavy cruiser lacks a mission (it's still outgunned by a German 11" pocket battleship) and the super cruiser is also super expensive (Admiralty reckoned they could get two Vanguards for the cost of three Supers, plus of course the cost/delay to develop a modern 9.2" gun) so they got cancelled OTL, though the Very Heavy lingered longer before being cancelled. If they are started early they may be able to do a job, one of the very heavys fighting the Graff Spee instead of Exeter would have been fun and they would wreak havoc on any Italian cruiser they encounter, in the Far East the Super could munch through any number of IJN Type A heavy cruisers if it got the chance. If those ships are the best use of limited dock space and resources is a very different question.
If there is one thing we have learnt over the years it is that Paradox are also scared of naval mechanics and try to make the irrelevant or, in the case of CK3, remove them entirely.
So...
As discussed we will explore a possible new generation of heavy cruisers, and I have very loosely based the class on the first idea listed. I am convinced that the Admiralty would be on one of its spasmodic 'do something about the Pacific' fits and, based on the Kents' use on the China Station, it might lean towards a renewed cruiser programme should 'fast fleet to Singapore' / 'the Fleet to Singapore' / 'something to Singapore' not be possible. I also think that the Mediterranean looms large in this assessment. Of course this is Winston's conjecture (God knows who is running the Treasury while he is playing 'battleships' - and that probably in the bath with a whisky) and we risk further delay and lost opportunities when the Government falls. As it will. I promise.
That one doesn’t actually sound too bad. A few of them would help cover up the British deficit in fast capital ships. Of course it still requires throwing the naval treaties out the window.
Really rhe naval treaties benefitted Japan and Italy more than anyone else. They couldn't build to capacity anyway, limiting everyone else was a boon for them...briefly.
I think that the British gain in the long term here - if they can get over the "what the hell are you doing!" criticisms (although to be fair everyone has already done that over Simpson) then they might be able to have a stronger line up (not hugely, but it's plausible for some improvement) by 1940. Short term, everyone is going to hate perfidious Albion.
Priceless. And very believable.
At least we get five years advance warning!
Sounds plausible.
Thanks!
I remember the thread on EU4 naval mechanics, back when it was in development. A lot of the ideas were good, many were codable and all were thrown out because the developers ran out of time and ported over the stale old mechanics from EU3 and 2.
The naval mechanics of Vic and Vic2 are a disgrace. I never invested in HoI4 because I just couldn't stand the heartbreak of seeing how f'd up the naval systems would be.
Oh
@Director how right you are. I cannot begin to describe how frustrated I was by EU4; it was just a tragically missed opportunity (along with their approach to trade, IMO). I sort of like HOI4's approach, it just needs to be done better.
Vic and Vic 2 are lamentable. Vic 2 is the Paradox game that I want to love but just can't, despite some excellent AARs by
@El Pip ,
@DensleyBlair and
@BigBadBob it just doesn't grip me. The fact that you cannot name your warships is an offence worse than treason.
I worry about Vic 3's 'detached' approach to war and warfighting, and this will be a rare Paradox game that I don't preorder.
