Alone in the waters: A british Isolation AAR

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Alone in the Water: A British Isolation AAR
England was an amazing nation. When the depression hit English gold
kept the pound afloat, when colonies fought for independence English troops kept the Empire together. Winston Churchill saw the Kingdoms glory throughout his life. Commanding the Navy, the unfortunate incident in the Ottomans, and now his tasks in paraliament. But today the Kingdoms glory was seeming to fade.
A handsome man with greying brown hair stood up and address the House of Lords. His name was Nathan Cadwell of the Wessex Cadwells, educated in economics at Oxford, fought with distinction during third Yerps, and leader of the Empire Defense faction. "After the Germans returned to the Rhineland, which may I add is within their national border, the French government spoke of the injustices against their soverinty. Well today gentlemen I ask you, who does this action harm? Will we be willing to send our boys to another skirmish to be fought on forgien soil? England can gain so much from refraining from war, and yet we still cling to a treaty that favors the French, causes the Germans to hate, and forces us to remain shackled to the French struggle. For this I ask you all to allow my proposal to break our alliance and once again be a free nation."
A round of brief and polite applause followed, the perfect form of British admiration, Churchill joined in. The man could speak wonderfully, and from were he sat the Empire's had more clout then the Whigs, or the minor Labor party. Once the noise slowed down a vote was called for.
"Winston Churchill. Yay or Nay?" Churchill stood up, " After the stiring words of Sir Cadwell I must say yay. Let our nation be free from the other powers problems."
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Felix Waynewright flew his hurricane in tight formation. Making pass after pass along the English countryside. A year ago he would have had to wait at least six months to get into a plane, but with so many to spare it was one month. The Defense Corp was made up of ten or so divisons of newly constructed aircraft. In event of a war, the army would defend the coast, and the airforce would patrol the sky.

Down below Felix spoted yet another workcrew building coastal forts, cement being poured in to set the foundations for anti-aircraft guns. " 'Ey you bloody git! Return ta base! The next wave a' fighters will be coming soon." Felix grabed his radio, "Roger leftenant ." Turning his plane into a tight turn he headed for the airbase.

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Perhaps the oddest thing to occur to Mathias Gilbert was that anyone would want to leave the British Empire. But he was a simple pub owner in Lancaster so he doubted anyone carried for his opinion, outside of which is the best bitter on tap. The papers and wireless shouted whenever they could of the "Stregthening of wills," that was going down in London. Some brief chatter went over the set, a dirty looking factory worker looked over at Gilbert, "Hey! Turn the damn set up. Ah can barely hear it in here!" Turning the volume up he smiled back at the man, "SHUT THE HELL UP!"
Sinking back into his seat the man listened to the radio, the clear deep voice of Walter Muldee, the local broadcaster, came over. " The government wishes today to announce the conclusion to the talks with the English Dominions. Canada, South Africa, Austrilia, and New Zealand asked to be released from their tiest to the English Crown and her people. Prime Minister McDonald with support of the Empire party released this statement," Gilbert leaned in as did everyone elese in the pub, " ahem...' If not for the fact that England herself has been freed from the will of another nation, I cannot in good faith force other nations to remian shackled to the will of the United Kingdom. But fear not, as a sign of good faith each new nation shall pay thirty million pounds, each, for the next two years."
Gilbert nodded, "About time we start worring about ourselves for once!" Those within earshot nodded in agreement.
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Winston Churchill sat back smiling, the Labor party came to him asking for his consent to be their leader. He readily agreed. Now all he had to do was wait for conformation in the House of Lords. Raymond McDonald stood up and addressed every one present, "Gentlemen today I am honored to bring forth my successor, determined by your votes......" Churchill began to get up, "NATHAN CADWELL!"
The portly Churchill almost swallowed his cigar, WHAT???????? The handsome lean, Cadwell walked forward smiling, "Thank you everyone. I promise to do everything I can to ensure our nation will be strong, rich, and free from other nations problems." Churchill clapped politely as always, but he wished he had a gun right then.

 

[elbasto]

Nice idea, you'll keep all for yourself.

Have you thought on disabling or at least modifing the Vichy France event? Now with no British threat, the french should sign a bitter peace rather than a treaty.

That is, IF they loose.

 

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Since the elections he was moved around till finding a niche in the First Admiralty seat he had all those years before. A few minutes ago an aide dropped a stack of papers, very quickly he found a document detailing the movements of British divisions to, " Egypt?"
Churchill was not normally a man to burst in unannounced, but this was the last straw. "Mr. Cadwell!" Nathan Cadwell looked up from his desk, the thin glasses her wore perched on his nose, "Yes Mr. Churchill? I don't think you have an appointment with me today." Churchill scowled, not all that pleasant on his bulldog features, tossing a coded transmission onto the Prime Ministers desk.
"We are spying on the French? Why the bloody hell would we do that?" Cadwell stood up, buttoning his suit jacket as he did, "Because the French are no longer our allies, and I must ask you to leave sir. I would hate for you to say something you cannot take back." Churchill stood motionless, tapping his pudgy thumb on the paper before him, "I understand that, but the German state, even the Italian state holds more danger then France. According to this you have authorized nine divisions into the Middle East, three of which are on the border with Syria. The Diplomatic office is going off the hinges, trying to deal with the French."
Cadwell sat back down looking at him, "Sit down." Churchill grumbled, " What are you doing about Fran...." Cadwell's face went stern showing no kindness he normally gives off, "SIT!"
Churchill blinked sitting down. Cadwell leaned over a small venomous smile across his lips, "What was the greatest threat to England in the Great War?" Rolling his eyes, Churchill slammed his fist on the desk, "Do not change the subject. I want to know what you are doing, or I will tell the parliament what you're up to!"
"What was the greatest threat to England in the Great War?" Churchill sat back, "Fine I'll play your damn game. It was Germany, now what are you....." Cadwell held up his hand, shaking his head, "Close, it was the near 100 million Muslims in Egypt, and India rising up against the Crown."
Cocking his head to the side, Winston lost al interest in the French affairs, " That was just a rumor. I mean I believed it at one time, but that was just the Army hoping to get into the Ottomans. And we all know how well Gollapolli went in getting us there." Cadwell laughed, " I know that, but the threat was real. The Ottoman Empire held the only man to declare a Jihad, and with that we lose so much of what makes out Empire great. Egypt holds our canal, India the crown jewel, and without them we have no resources, and no way to buy resources."
Churchill scoffed, "Do not over simplify things Nathan. The money from the British economy more then suffices with or without the colonies income." Cadwell stood up and pointed to the map of the world. "Do you remember the depression at all? Yes it hit us the least, but it still hit. We could have solved the problem in a month. A month! But instead we spread it out among our dominions, and allies it took a few years to short everything out. Now the Germans are becoming strong again. They have Austria, and are building their army up. The French will fight them at some point, I know this. For France wants to control Europe and Hitler wants the same. If we fought in another war, millions would die, our economy would fall, and I promise we would lose our empire."
"Poppycock! How could such a thing occur? We won the last war will we win the next." Churchill hated defeatist thinking, he truly hated it within his leaders. Cadwell didn't seem to notice, and if he did he didn't care. "Really? I think not, wars changed. I fought in the war..."

"For two weeks!" Churchill shouted ready to argue.
"Two weeks? Two years? It was the same front line for everyone. Anyways when I was in the war I saw the Canadians, and the South Africans fighting alongside me. They spoke of how great they were and how great their nations could be. Then I heard the Americans talk of 'Imperialist powers.' At that point I saw England’s future, another war caused by some foolhardy nation wanting to show its power. The US forcing our empire to break off. What nations we give autonomy would declare themselves free, take our money, and our resources, without a cent in return. But now? Now we have nations paying us for their freedom, no obligations to anyone, and the forces to secure whatever problem arrives anywhere within our land."
Sitting there letting everything sink in. That can't happen. It won't happen. I mean can it? Churchill got up and nodded, "Care to join me at the Kings ball?" Cadwell smiled, "Of course, we may continue our discussion." Churchill nodded, "I'd like that."
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The plane shot up through the sky, Felix Waynewright felt the pressure press him against the Defenders seat. It was an amazing plane, machine guns, cannon, long range, good climbing, and fast turns. "Hey Felix! Ya mind not screaming into the com?" Simon Wootton his wingman said over the radio. Felix grinned, "Sorry mate. This thing is too much fun to stay quiet in."
" Oh ya met the commanders secretary too, eh?" Simon laughed. Felix laughed too, the base commander's sultry raven haired girl the stuff of legends now, "Would I be in this damn plane if I knew such things about that girl?"
"Ahem.... I wish to remind you that you are being monitored." The calm voice of Robert Milton, the radar man back at the airfield said over the radio. Felix laughed turning the plane back to move down along the Wessex coast, "Ya heard him Simon."
"Ah know. Ah know. 'Ey Robert whets the word a'ver the wireless?" Simon was always one to push the limit of any mans patience. But Robert was a helpful enough chap, " Well the Canuks paid off a quarter of their Freedom Fees." Felix whooped, as did Simon, "Good. When do you think we'll see any of that money?"
"When the commanders girl wakes up in your bed, Felix!" Simon laughed. Felix grinned, as he turned the plane back to base.
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The Flying Pig Pub always filled up towards 6 o'clock. Mathias Gilbert was perfectly happy with that. Clerks, factory workers, newspaper men, even a few bobbies stopped in for a pint or a yard. The fire was low, for even in summer the nights were cold. Over the wireless Nicky and Norty traded barbs on whose wife was uglier.
"Stephen! Where are you boy?" Mathias yelled up the stairs. The lean, red headed teenager ran down stairs. "Right here dad." Slinging an arm around his son he smiled, "Wanna help your da' deal with the rabble?" The "rabble" grumbled offense's back. Stephen smiled at his father, "Sure," He snatched up a tray and went around the tavern taking orders. Gilbert smiled noticing his son always ended up near Sarah the serving girl about his age.
But thoughts of his son becoming a man left him the moment the wireless changed its tone. "Germany has backed down from its demands for the strip of land along the Czechoslovakian border. French officials say this is a grand example of French military superiority."

The tavern booed, Mathias joining in. Stephen stood in the center yelling, "Without us they'll be over run in a week!" The tavern cheered him on, one man slipping a glass into the boys hand. Mathias turned a blind eye to that, normally hating his soon to drink not even being seventeen, but one is a perfect way to celebrate patriotism for the Crown.

 

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Whatever man may do, or see it is pale comparrison to his greatest invention. And that invention was being poured into a good size glass. Felix Wanyewright loved the beer the "Coregated Cafe" served, it was brewed from a local pub and shipped to the airfield. Simon Wooton on the other hand came for the gossip and chance to harrass his fellow pilots.
"A toast!" Simon shouted to the bar. Felix eyed his friend curiously, "A toast to what?" Simon slumped forward a tad tipsy. "Ya know wha? I thin its time we toast Unca Adolf!" Felix grinned, "What about Hitler?"
Rasing his glass in the air shouting to the barroom, "A toast ta Hitler. Thanks for taking the Frenchies off our backs!" The bar joined in, no one having much love for the French Republic these days. Rumors around the base said the Germans where planning something big, to make up for th Czech fiasco.
Felix left the nissen hut, turned officers club, turned bar, and walked out into the cold night air. His life was good, no longer did he fear being sent off to Europe to fight. Now he looked forward to his three patrols a day, coming back to the base drinking with his mates. Every so often making a pretty girl think he is better then a leftenant. "And thanks to Cadwell it won't change."
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Private Martin Kelvee wondered how civilization could ever come from the Middle East. I was hot, dry, and every where he went he was reminded of those facts. "Kelvee! Spot your daydreaming and pay attention! You want the I'talians catching us with our pants down?" Sgt. Matthhews bellowed.
Kelvee looked out from the rampart of the concrete fort. Across the way led to Italian provinces. He smirked speaking under his breath, "Oh yes, look at the scary enemy army. How ever will we hold them off?" Sg.t Matthews spoke up, "What are you mumbling over there?"
"Nothing sir!" Kelvee scanned the horizon. He spent the last two years of his life in a cold wet base in Belfast, wishing for some action. Now, thanks to the Prime Minister, he is out in the Mediterranean watching over Italy. In the 6th Army under General Montgomery. Ol' Montey spent most of his time telling chaps like Kelvee to "build up the defenses." Martin thought everyone was insane who would ever start another war? And if they did why would they do it in this dust bowl of a nation?
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Nathan Cadwell was an honest man. He believed in personal freedoms, liberty, and most importantly he believed in England. The Whigs wanted to appease the world, the English Fascist party wanted to rule it, and the Labor party wanted to control it. Cadwell just wanted England to stay the world power he knew it to be. And with his plans it would be.
" Mr. Cadwell. Sir, you have an appointment in the state office." Rebbeca his secretary poked her head into his personal office, note pad in hand. "Ah yes. I almost forgot. Thank you Rebbeca." The young brunette blushed following behind the Prime Minister.
Cadwell smiled to himself if he wasn't married to a wonderful girl, Rebbeca would do more then blush around him. Walking down the hall stopping at the public office, looking like the room of a regel Lord. And much better then the paper stacked mess he just left. Rebbeca opened the door for him, inside looking out the large double windows stood Sir Roger Hollis head of the Ministry of Intellegence. " Ah Roger. How are you old man?" Cadwell walked forward offering his hand, which Hollis gladly took.

"I am doing very well, by the way is it true your son Albert got into Oxford?" Cadwell nodded, "Yes, seems politics are not for him, he has gone the scholary route." Hollis grinned sitting down in the large sofa, " Well if he ever needs a job, MI4 always needs good analyitical thinkers.
Nathan smiled making a note to tell Albert such news. "Well, I assume you have not come here just to chat about my sons future." Hollis nodded passing over a thin sheet of paper, in red ink the words "TOP SECRET" was stamped over the title. Cadwell read the paper carefully, then looked up scratching his nose, "Uh... King and Bishop have moved into postion. The Rook is in check, the Queen is preparing to move along to Knight's 3? Forgive me my friend I do not understand."
Hollis shook his head laughing some, "I apologize Prime Minister, I thought you were briefed on to the terms. German and her allies have begun moving into Poland. France picked up a radio signal, which is how we learned of the invasion, and Knight's 3 is our code for France going to war." Cadwell sighed slaming his fist onto the desk, "Dammit. I was hoping common sense would win out in the end." Hollis poured himself, and Nathan a scotch.

The Prime Minister drank slowly. Hollis leaned in asking the question that hung in the air, "What will we do now there is a war?" Cadwell shook his head, "No Roger, we are free from that. But we will exploit this to the best of our ability. Whatever happens England must not take sides unless we have to." Cadwell's eyes lit up pressing the intercom, "Rebbeca!" A cheery voice came over the speaker, "Yes Mr. Cadwell?" Hollis poured himself another drink watching the Prime Minister go to work. "Rebecca get ahold of the German Diplomats I would like a meeting six days from now."
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Cleaning glass after glass was the routine before the nightly rush. Mathias Gilbert was used to it, he had done it since he was fifteen. He missed out on learning the finer points of pub ownership, when he went to fight the Huns in the Great War. He shivered some, doing what he swore he would never do, rembering what happened at the front lines. For awhile he feared for Stephen having to go off to see the elephant like he did, but England learned its lesson and that would never happen to young English boys again.
The door flew open as Stephen ran inside, "Dad! Turn the wireless on!" Mathias grinned, "Why are those funny Yanks on again?" Stephen looked at him in shock. "Don't you know?" Looking at his face Mathias set the glasses down reaching to the radio, "What is it? Was there a murder?"
"Germany is going to war!" Mathias practically lunged at th dial tonce he heard that. He and his son sat by the radio listening. "This is BBC. For those of you just tuning in Germany has offically declared war on Poland. The King has sent words of hope that the Polish people will fight bravely, he has also sent word that he hopes the Germans will cease their actions before too many die needlessly." A silence fell over the set, Stephen staring at the wooden box intently, Mathias doing the same.

"This has just reached my desk, France has declared war upon Germany as well as Ally themselves with Poland. Prime Minister Cadwell said this, ' While the conflicts of our fellow nations are a fearsome sight. I wish the English people to feel safe. We are defended in our island, our armies protect our coasts as well as our colonies, fighter squadrons patrol our skies, and the mighty English Navy sails freely.' Once again Germany has declared war on Poland. France has joined in the battle on the side of the Polish people."

Mathias stood up, "My god. Almost the same it was when I was your age." Stephen looked at him looking some what scared, "Dad, should I join the civil defense corp?" He looked down at his son thinking. The room was silent for a long time. " You know, I think we both should." Stephen smiled moving over to wash the glasses his father missed.

 

[Sir Humphrey]

hey cool idea and great stuff!

 

[Virgiltchicken]

I can see why Britain wants to stay neutral, I'm currently playing a game as Britain against most of mainland Europe and am the only major power in the allies. It's not easy.

I am looking forward to this new AAR, good luck.

By the way, any information on the picture with the bottles spelling VB?
Also, England does get involved in a war at some point, right?

 

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Quite Interresting.
I wonder how Germans act no that brittish are not war with them.

 

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Simon "Smidge" Wooton and Felix "Feline" Waynewright
The planes flew above the destroyer tracer bullets flying through the sky. Felix Waynewright and Simon Wooton flew in tight formation, Felix taking on any enemy he finds, Simon watching his back. Turning into a step dive he stopped the red tipped tail of fighter group two at 9 o'clock. He aimed up blazing away tracer streaking at the enemy fighter. "Thats an'other hit Feline!" Simon yelled over the radio. Felxi grinned seeing the "enemy" fighter turn around to land. "Feline to base. Feline to base." Felix grinned his nickname Feline,ever since his sister sent him a yellow suitcase for traveling. Simon in on of his funny moments recognized Felix the Cat's magic bag. So Feline was here to stay.
"Feline come in Feline." The smooth voice of Robert Milton came over the radio. "Feline here. I am heading home fuels a tad low." Simon tipped his wing to signal he was turning back too. The radio crackled in Felix's ear, "Base here. Take grid six to five on return." Felix flew south heading home.
The Defender fighter plane hit the runway, stopping with slow skid. Felix thought it a good landing, but as the saying went, "Any landing you can walk away from.... yadda, yadda, yadda."
In the officers mess, Simon and he sat back trading stories about women they never knew. Robert Milton and his radio crew walked in, Felix waved him over. " Hello old top. How's the war games going?" Robert shrugged, "No clue how the grounds doing, we and London base keep switching off on who gets to keep the sky." The husky man sat down ordering a beer.
"So whats the news in France?" Robert asked. "Notin good. The Jerries 'ave taken Holland, and Belgium. Some bloke name a Rommel is ta be leading the army into France." Felix leaned back drinking his yard, "Poor devils."

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Adolf Hitler was shorter then Nathan Cadwell thought, also he never knew the man had glasses, but when he spoke Cadwell felt his energy and passion. Having an interputer helped delude the mans words. Today was not a day for Fasicm, or Democracy, but peace. The Non-aggression pact was a simple enough document: Germany was to be given leadership in Europe, and in return England would be allowed free range in colonial affrairs.
Stephen Mathias a thirtish man with red hair, translated for the German leader, " The great Aryan nations working together, can only lead to victory and long lasting peace." Cadwell nodding, " I must agree, only through peace can our nations last in this world." Personally he wished England could join the fray, and kick this dirty kraut into the channel. Aryans and race always struck Cadwell as pointless logic. But he would gladly put up with it to ensure his nations safety.

Hitler leaned over siging the pact, followed by Cadwell. A few photographers snapped pictures of the two leaders shaking hands. He felt a chill in his stomach shaking the Germans cold clamy hand. Is this how Judas felt?
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Mathias Gilbert remebered the Lee Einfield rifle from his younger life. It was closer then his wife for four years of his life. But what was before him looked so wrong, that it couldn't be for war. The Sten submachine gun came with four clips, he placed it under the floor in his cellar, with some straw incase of water.
When he joined the civil defense corp he assumed it would be air raid drills and filling sandbags. Instead he was taught how to use various weapons, use a portable radio, common message delivering in case of a lapse in mail services. His son Stephen was taught how to use a handgun, and basic first aide. He thought it was good fun, but Mathias felt a slight chill wondering why they would need to know such partisan skills.
Moving back up to the pub, he went about setting all the chairs down, sweeping up some getting ready for the night. The smooth jazz tones of Louis Armstrong an American musican flowed from the wireless. It was interupted by the harsh voice of the BBC announcer, "This just in the Republic of France has fallen. In its place Vichy France has be created. It promises to assist in creating a new and more powerful european power structure. Out in the middle east Sryia has promised to continue the fight against the Fasicist invaders."

Mathias did not even stop setting up. Who cares? What ever happens in europe doesn't matter to the island of England. Its armies are vast, airforce powerful, hell even its people could fight back.

 

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Whoa, Fenwick! You're like an AAR-writing machine guy! That honour used to belong to TekcoR, but not anymore, apparently.