"The Divine winds shall carry the cherry blossom Far"
*Sorry about the abstract title
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*Sorry about the abstract title
Sir Humphrey said:
Not to worry, I'm used to your cherry blossom obsession.
You are very ambitious Humpers, what is this? Your fourth ongoing AAR now?
With Lufthansa in the title I assume this is a German AAR. However I would have associated cherry blossoms with Japan. Never mind.
Anyway, I look foward to seeing what this AAR is all about.
Anyway, I look foward to seeing what this AAR is all about.
This is a World AAR, the title isabstract. No one nation will be the focus, all events and lots of personal events and details. As I said, the title is very abstract, and will reveal itself in good time.
Well you know, ambition here, duty there. I hope everyone enjoys this AAR (if it can be called that, for its more of a story really, and there is no one nation the focus.). Enjoy
I.
The sun had quite unexpectedly reappeared from behind the cloud, allowing the rays of the sun to penetrate down though the lush foliage of the garden, the reflections slowly warping and changing as the fish disturbed the tepid water. A few lilly petals floated lazily around on this sunny afternoon, as young Takeshi sat on a low canvas chair, carefully inking his next series of writings. For although he was only 18 years of age, his writings had already received serialization in the nations largest papers, and it was rumoured that his works had even been read by the emperor himself. His greatest work in progress, the ”The Winds of Change” spanned twenty of the most turbulent years of the 20th century, and his father, the great traveller and writer had seen almost every aspect of those years. From Cathay to the Americas, from the Alps to the Urals to Mt Fuji, the young Takeshi's work would be the masterpiece of western and eastern literature. ”The Winds of Change”, as he initially set out, was to document the people, stories and histories of the past turbulent 20 years, from around the world. His father had volumes of notes, documents and facts stored away in the family library, as well as the untapped power of his own brain. Takeshi's contemporaries said he was mad, and even his dear beloved mother had warned that his undertaking was far to grand for someone so young in years, however his mind was set on it, and he would see it through.
His father, with beads of sweet beginning to appear on his face, was down on his knees, with a small set of garden trimmers, clipping the edges of the grass around the small shrine at the edge of the garden. He loved his garden, and now that he was official retired, he spent almost all the time showering love and attention on his pride. He carefully rolled his sleeves up and wiped his hand on his brow, the sweet glistening slightly as it momentarily was hit by sunlight. His straw hat hid his face from the strongest of the sun and he carefully went back to his clipping, almost making sure every blade of grass and every plant was just right, he proved it possible for an entire garden to be a work of art. The young Takeshi had hit a mental block, unable to follow on from the zenith of the 11th chapter, which was concerned with the outbreak of the second world war in September 1939. He could not decide whether he should focus on the campaigns of the Eastern or Western fronts, and the subsequent German successes of that year. He set his pen and paper down on the small cane table that sat beside him and strolled through the garden, observing the immaculate features. The young Takeshi open the large mahogany doors of the family library, and wandered through families library, his fingers running across the spines of countless volumes. He found the book he was looking for, but a faded photograph in caught his eye.
His father appeared many years younger, with only a few hints of grey beginning to appear on his head. He stood with with to men he recognised, but could not put names to. As he held the photograph in his hand, and trying to find the names of the other two men, he heard his father step into the Library.
“Ah, you found that photograph. That was taken in 1940, that was Prime Minister Churchill, and President Roosevelt, before the great troubles began, we stood together on that day like old friends. Winston will be arriving at the end of the month, and I believe he is very interested in your work son.” Takeshi's father said as he put his hand on his sons shoulder. His mother came in carrying a tray with small cups of tea on it, setting it down on a stack of old volumes, and then shuttling off back to the innards of the household. The young Takeshi was left by his father who returned to the garden, but instead to read the newspaper that had just arrived with the morning mail. The headlines were concerned with home affairs, and he casually perched his small half reading glasses on his nose and pursued the stories of day. Meanwhile inside, the young Takeshi opened a letter from his publishers, his face slowly turning from apprehension to joy. He ran outside, waving the letter in his hand, his father calmly and casually turning his attention away from the newspaper, and towards his son.
“Father, I have to go to Tokyo. I must conclude the deal for the publisher, and it would allow be ample time to sample the delights of the Imperial War Museum and the archives. I shall call taxi when I have packed.”
“That is good news. I wish for your works to be published, for it will enlighten the world.” Takeshi's father said. They were given an a lavish apartment by the government, however his father preferred the family house in the prefecture, which allowed him to have a garden and a proper house, the apartment was newly built, as was most of Tokyo after the torture and destruction suffered during the war, however it was a phoenix rising from the ashes, and all the buildings and structures were newly designed and built, combining the latest techniques but with some degree of traditional value and styling.
The apartment was modern, but hardly used, except on business or when an engagement in Tokyo was to last over night or for a few days. The young Takeshi only used when he needed as he, like his father liked the garden and openness. His small suitcase was already packed and awaiting at the end of his bed, and his mother telephoned the private taxi company that would take him to the apartment. As he left, and slowly drew away, he could sometimes still observe the scars of war across the countryside, or perhaps he was imagining. He could remember the wailing sirens and the drone of the aircraft, but that was in the past, and soon his thoughts drifted to Tokyo, and the people he would see again. For now his mind was at peace, thinking of only the garden and his writing, two of the most important things in his life.
An excellent start Sir Humphrey! I only have the vaugest guess as to where this is going but it's wonderfully written and I'm sure Takeshi;s work will reveal everything to us in due time!
Good luck with this bew AAR, you've made a grand start!
Good luck with this bew AAR, you've made a grand start!
Once again, your writing abilities put mine to shame, Sir Humphrey.
An excellent start, sir!
An excellent start, sir!
Well thanks everyone!
II.
Tokyo had not changed much since his last visit, the same people still lived in the same homes and apartments, the same street sellers sold their wares and goods on the same stretch of street. The old walked hand in hand with the old. Modern women in business attire walked at a fast past past the Geisha, who dandered along the streets in a dainty and dignified slow walk, their cloth and bamboo umbrellas being twirled slowly by the delicate hands. The taxi slowly ground to a halt at the front of the apartment complex, the suspension creaking slightly at the strain. Takeshi grasped the handle of the rear door, swinging it outward, so he could escape the confines of the taxi's interior. The guardian of the apartment complex, a small middle aged man who Takeshi had come to know well, stood guard at the door, his white gloves and uniform spotless. He wore his imperial medals with great pride, the various campaign medals polished until there was not a flake of dirt upon their smooth surface. He had been a *Japanese Pilot officer during the war, and had flown with the Imperial Navy, including Guam, Midway and Hawaii. Takeshi found him the most congenial fellow, who would enthrall him with tales from the air, and that he had actually had his hand shaken by the great Yamato during the battle of the Coral Sea.
As Takeshi carried his travelling case into the complex stepping over the smooth cement pavings, Koji nodded to him, words not necessary to express their thanks at seeing one another again. It was a special bond between the two that needed not to be explained by words, but the message in a simple nod was enough. As he walked into the lobby, he was struck by the clash of new and old again, for the lobby contained the hanging pictures of modernity, with the styling of traditional Japan, a styling that would slowly disappear eventually, when the sense of western culture would slowly overwhelm that of tradition. A polite woman stood silently behind the desk, her petite charms hidden by a smile that seemed to reach from cheek to cheek. As he walked past her towards the lifts, she smiled at him, and out of politeness he retuned the smile, however it was hollow and worthless, a mere social formality.
The lift doors clanked open, the metal components driving against each other to force the doors apart. The carpet had just been cleaned, and the distinct freshness smell of the carpet was permeated through the lift, as the door clanked closed again, the links to the outside world became closed. He pressed his finger against the small perspex button that became lit from behind, illuminating the floor number, as the lifting gear and pulleys were set in motion. The lift was silently hauled upwards towards the floor where his apartment lay, and he was not expecting for it to have changed in anyway, although the cleaning lady was to have done her job, the apartment sometimes felt empty and deserted, as it was not used often, only for major works required in Tokyo or trips that couldn't be rushed through in one day. The doors were cranked open again, and Takeshi stepped out of the lift and into the hallway. There were only two other apartments on the floor, and from his experience they were hardly used, much like his.
As he inserted his small silver key into the keyhole, he turned it sharply, allowing the door to slide open. The interior greeted him like an old friend, how they it remembered, but subtle changes had been made. He walked into the bedroom and through his suitcase down onto the low bed, leaving the room the way he had left it. He checked the refrigerator, a copy of the popular American Calvinator range, and it was completely empty, its shelves bare except for a single bottle of cheap beer that sat at the back. Although it was only three o'clock in the afternoon, it was to late to make a trip to the Imperial museum, which had on loan a massive H8K2 Flying Boat from the Imperial Navy or the archive, which would help with the Winds of Change. Takeshi walked out onto the small balcony that overlooked a small secluded garden that had obviously seen a more loving and caring owner, and he thought to himself that his farther would be ashamed to have an apartment overlooking such a garden, but since it was on the 10th level of the complex. The view was not limited to the garden though, for below lay the street that thronged with people and shoppers. He headed back down the hall, walking down the stairs rather than taking the lift, though he would have to use the lift on the way back up, as he would be carrying a shopping back or two. He passed the polite woman who still stood behind the desk, she smiled again at him, he was forced to play up the charade as he past her, forcing the social procession. At the entrance to the outside world, Koji once again opened the door and nodded as Takeshi walked through, returning the nod.
The street was busy with people going about their business, trying to finish up for the day, and return to the comfort of their abodes. He needed to get some food in for the evening and the following day, and strolling slowly along the street, he began taking in the atmosphere of the street, the rich variety of people and cultures mixing on the pavement of life. He wondered into a small store that seemed to sell everything that could be thought of, with a rather tall and thin man standing behind the cashiers desk. His left hand was missing, through either accident or war, it was not certain, and Takeshi wonder down the isles, browsing the comestibles and other products from some cases as far away from the United States, Britain and Australia. He picked up a half case of the cheap beer that sat along the back wall, a some vegetables and fruit, rice and some of the home made bread. He packed it under his arms and placed them in paper bags after the cashier received the money for the items. A dainty Geisha walked into the shop, the cashier almost looking in awe at her, as she browsed the shelves looking for her elixir. She quietly browsed, and then stood behind Takeshi with a small bag of fruit in her hand. Takeshi picked up the paper bag and the case of beer and walked slowly out, however his eyes meet those the Geisha, brilliantly blue and utterly stunning, her face was stunning. He tried desperately not to stare, but she just smiled politely, and Takeshi walked out of the store, and back onto the melting pot that was the street.
Maybe I'm not too observant so early in the morning but did you say when this AAR takes place or are you going to tell us through various, people places, and things in the AAR? I really shouldn't be reading AAR's so early in the morning!
Beautiful writing! Takeshi seems like an interesting fellow. I'd like to read his work..
Only one minor nitpick -
Yamamoto was the man, Yamato is the battleship. Common error.
Only one minor nitpick -
Yamamoto was the man, Yamato is the battleship.
Common error.
ah! nice work....at the moment i think this is the only multi-country AAR for HoI2...though mu AAR is the only running multi-country AAR for Vicky at the moment....check it out..STORM OF STEEL. but enough about me..
you have a good writing style, and it flows well. Keep it up old boy!
you have a good writing style, and it flows well. Keep it up old boy!
cthulhu - Thanks very much.
Semi-Lobster - This AAR is sort of a Novella, and I will be telling it though people, accounts, personal recolections etc. It was written after the war, however there are many secrets, and this is not strictly historical (but nonthing outrageous).
Alikchi - Thanks for that.
Kaiser Franz - Thank you, your AAR is splendid.
Lord British - Coming from a writer as good as you, I thank you.
Kelden - Thanks old friend.
III.
The street seemed to have grown busier, with ever more ingredients being added. The sun was beginning to set, its lower rim just touching the horizon, sending out waves of yellows, oranges, reds and purples into the surrounding sky, a beautiful sight, and for a moment he almost longed to be in the garden, writing as the sun slowly retired for another day. However Takeshi turned his back on the setting sun and began the walk back to the apartment. He walked slowly along the street, almost as the pace of a pair of Geisha, that were walking in front of him, pointing daintily at items on the shop windows as the walked slowly by. He reached the apartment, the case of the cheap beer starting to get the better of his arm. He passed Koji at the door, his shift nearly over he nodded again and returned to his position.
The petite woman from behind the desk had disappeared, probably having retreated to her own accommodation somewhere in the building, leaving the front desk unattended, unguarded and almost uncared for. For as he walked past, he almost missed the superficial smiles that he had exchanged with he petite smiling woman, even though it was only a hollow social arrangement. Once again the lift doors clanged open, the metal grinding apart, allowing him to enter, and once again, he pressed his finger against the small perspex button, the doors slowly closing again, driving the winding gear into the action and propelling the lift up through the shaft. Unlocking the apartment door, he placed the case of the cheap beer on the kitchen bench and placed the rest of his store bought goods in the Calvinator refrigerator, the door squeaking open. Takeshi open the top of the case of the beer, and drew a bottle from the depths of the cardboard case.
Walking slowly through, he switched the radio on as he walked past, and as the interior transponder received its electricity, the radio waves began to be received and floating through the apartment, a soft American jazz beat. Since the end of the war 1945, the American production machine turned from the making and supplying of war to its peaceful pursuits. Refrigerators rather than tanks, radios rather than machine guns. Reaching the balcony, the soft neon glow from the street began to filter up to the apartment, as the sun departed for another day. He sat down on the chair on the balcony, and began reading through one of only many of his fathers journals from the past, in each one a detailed record of the past, the people and memories of a time of great struggle, and for some a matter of like and death.
May 24th 1940,
The French counter attack into the Saar finally broke through the thinly held German Siegfried Line, the much vaunted response to the Maginot Line. After the two month campaign in the east, the Germans turned their attention west towards the Western allies. After the German drive into Belgium and Luxembourg was stopped on the outskirts of Brussels by the British Expeditionary Force under the overall command of Field Marshall Wavell, the German advance had been checked. Although the German air force pilots regularly entered into duels with the British and the French pilots, the control of the air is of great interest to both sides. At sea, a number of British battle cruisers, including the Repulse, Renown and Hood sunk the Admiral Sheer and the Deutchland at the Battle of the Waddenzee. Which although the first sea battle of the war, it has reportedly shaken the confidence Grand Admiral Raeder, that he now only believes in the strength of the submarine, or what the Germans call U-Boats. I eagerly await news from home, and send my love to Takeshi, as there is little personal news arriving at the Front, as the British Expeditionary Force Head Quarters from which I am attached are preparing for a counter attack of their own, and the their Royal Air Force is flying overhead. That is all for today.
A Cruiser Tank, which made up a bulk of the British Expeditionary Force's tank strength.
Takeshi read with interest, that particular passage and wonder if the men of the Western powers could have ever guessed of the results of their actions. Men such as Rommel, from which he had read a great many works about (he hoped in his visit to West Germany the following year and meet the great man in Bonn), men such as Gort, Alanbrook, Weygand, de Gaul or Mosley could not have seen the future, nor in some cases would they want to, however Takeshi would record their thoughts, for their actions were already documented hundreds, even if not thousands of times. He pulled a folded, if slightly crumpled piece of paper our from te the center of the book. It was a a roughly drawn map, showing the positions of the various armies in the west, blue and red squares and rough arrows showing their movement, thousands of men possibly going to their deaths by a simple stroke of a pencil along a scrap of paper. Takeshi drank from the bottle, the warmish liquor flowing though his mouth and down into his throat, eventually working its way through to his veins. The journal was a portal to the past, through past events and the actions would change the course of history , and like Takeshi, they all set their own destiny, sometimes changing the course of only their own life, but also the course of thousands, if not millions. Another sip of the beer,and as the smooth jazz flowed through the apartment to Takeshi on the balcony, he began wondering his own fate, that of Koji, that of the petite woman behind the counter, that of the shop keeper and that of the Geisha in the shop. He wondered as the neon engulfed the street.
Limit your ambitions, Humpers. You may begin to get these stories confused with each other. :wacko: