England Expects (Empires Lost)

by Jackson, Charles S.

  “The mobile flak vehicle is also fairly self-explanatory, and the Russian influence in the design is again quite clear. The Soviet’s ZSU-23-4 ‘Shilka’ self-propelled anti-air vehicle proved to be incredibly effective against low-flying aircraft throughout the Arab-Israeli wars and in the later conflicts between Iran and Iraq, and this Wehrmacht replica – which appears to mount four cannon identical to the Shilka’s twenty-three millimetre guns – has proven to be absolutely lethal against any allied aircraft that flies within range of its guns… an effective slant range that we estimate to be approximately four thousand metres.

  “Following that, we have some further evidence of original designs in the development of the Wehrmacht’s new range of vehicles.” Using the laser-pointer included in the remote control, he pointed out each picture in turn. “This IFV, assault gun and SP flak are all obviously developed from the original T-54/55 hull platform, as they clearly have the same layout of five road wheels with rear drive sprocket, front idler and no return rollers… although that’s about where the similarities end. The IFV appears to have been inspired by the Realtime Marder infantry fighting vehicle, although being based on an MBT hull would suggest the armour is somewhat heavier, and it mounts a small, two-man turret armed with one of the same 23mm cannon as the Shilka, along with at least three firing ports on either side, judging by the pictures we’ve been able to obtain. Carrying capacity appears to be standard, with a crew of three and space for seven or eight grenadiers.

  “The assault gun has taken the Realtime Soviet ISU as a starting point, and the similarity is there for anyone to see: it has a long, low crew compartment forward, with a heavy, hull-mounted gun of limited traverse and elevation. The weapon is big – substantially larger than the eighty-eight mil of the MBT – and Commander Donelson and I concur that the most likely armament is the SIG33 150mm infantry gun. The vehicles aren’t common, and seem to be attached in twos or threes at battalion level to provide support for advancing infantry in neutralising strongpoints, as were their assault guns in Realtime.” Thorne paused as he took a long breath.

  “There are also reports of other vehicles we’ve not yet been able to obtain pictures of, and their strategy seems to be to use their new, powerful equipment to punch holes in the front lines and push forward while more conventional forces fill those gaps and solidify the gains.” He paused again.

  “One thing I’ve also been able to piece together is that it appears the Wehrmacht has given the Waffen-SS a greatly expanded offensive role in this era than was the case in Realtime. All of the vehicles I have pictures of here display the unit insignia of the 3rd SS ‘Totenkopf’ Division, and the manner of their employment as shock troops in the initial phases of the invasion so far suggests the Waffen-SS is being used in a manner similar to that of the modern US Marine Corps… on a side note, I’ve also noticed it’s fairly easy to identify Schutzstaffeln armoured units, as standard Wehrmacht tank unit numbers are being displayed in red while the SS units are displayed in yellow.

  “The upshot of all this information is that without control of the air, which the RAF has lost completely, there’s little chance of halting armoured advances using these new vehicles. The T-55 in standard form would be invulnerable to the British army’s two-pounder gun from the front and flanks, and while the heavier three-point-sevens have been able to penetrate their armour, and the new ten-pounders at least partially-effective from the flanks, there aren’t enough of either of those weapons to make anything more than localised dents in the enemy’s advances. Although we were obviously able to prevent Reuters from getting heavier armaments into the tanks, the tried and true eighty-eight millimetre they already have is more that powerful enough to defeat any known British tank without difficulty.” He took another breath before moving on to other areas.

  “With regard to something much closer to home here at Scapa Flow, the British Home Fleet sortied early this morning, as we all know, with the intention of interdicting invasion forces crossing The Channel. While we know the attempt was unsuccessful, we do have information that the fleet was able to inflict serious damage on a large enemy surface force off the Dogger Bank this afternoon.” The next still images to appear were of a damaged and burning warship – a large one.

  “Squadron Leader Trumbull wasn’t able to get much footage, as the engagement was mostly over by the time he overflew it, but several things did become apparent.” He took another breath before continuing. “This vessel is an enemy aircraft carrier – something which in itself is a substantial departure from Realtime events. The fact that it appears to also be far larger than anything we’d have expected of the Kriegsmarine is also unsettling, although in this case, aircraft from Ark Royal were able to catch its planes on deck and inflict very serious damage indeed. We’re unlikely to know what the fate of this vessel is, but the images here are enough to suggest that at the very least it’ll be out of action for some time – with any luck it may prove to be unsalvageable.” He changed the pictures again, this time to display the damaged but triumphant Bismarck.

  “We believe the carrier is based on the same hull form as this vessel, which some of you may recognise as a Yamato class superbattleship, with approximate displacement of sixty to seventy thousand tonnes and a main armament of nine 460mm rifled guns in three triple turrets. This is what we know in this era as the battleship Bismarck, and as you can all see, there’s evidence of damage inflicted upon her aft, but she was the remaining capital ship holding the area of battle at the end of the engagement earlier today. With armour as thick as forty to sixty centimetres in places, there’s every chance the shells of the Home Fleet simply bounced off or shattered on impact rather than managing any effective penetration.” Another picture change… “This vessel was the only other capital ship of either side to survive the main engagement.” The image was of a severely damaged Gneisenau, decks awash and burning heavily in three places, but nevertheless able to gain control of the beating inflicted upon her by Queen Elizabeth. “What you’re all looking at is a Scharnhorst class battlecruiser, however close examination of the main armament indicates she’s not carrying the Realtime complement of nine eleven-inch guns, and instead appears to be mounting three twin turrets of some type. In light of a never-realised Realtime plan to rearm this ship class in just such a fashion, we can only assume she’s instead carrying three twin turrets of fifteen-inch guns, of the type that would’ve originally been mounted aboard the Realtime Bismarck.” He shut down the projector altogether and took a few steps forward toward his unit, all eyes following him closely.

  “We all have a general understanding of what happened out off The Dogger Bank today: the Home Fleet was all but annihilated, with just Ark Royal and a damaged Malaya managed to make it clear of the battle area, both ships expected back at Scapa Flow sometime early tomorrow morning. There hasn’t been time to get much more detail on what’s happening, but the one glaringly significant point to come out of all this is that, as we feared, Reuters and his unit have been operating in this era for many years aiding Hitler and the Nazis… possibly even before the NSDAP originally took power in 1933. The massive increase in shipbuilding the Kriegsmarine has been able to pull off here over the original, Realtime Z-plan isn’t something that could’ve been accomplished overnight: this kind of increase in naval capability could only have been made possible if the entire infrastructure of German shipbuilding and industry in general had been reorganised, upgraded and massively expanded, and that’s something that would take years to complete.” He took another deep, slow breath as he prepared to finish up.

  “That’s all we’ve got at the moment other than what you all already know – a more detailed report will be provided once we’ve had time to disseminate more information.” He nodded toward the mess entrance where a lone guard waited patiently. “Right now however, I believe the rest of the enlisted men of Lyness are waiting to come in and have a few drinks, and the mess staff have been kind enough to invite all of us – officers in
cluded – to stay with them and spend an hour or two trying to take our minds off what’s been going on elsewhere, if that’s at all possible. I, for one, think it’s an excellent idea.” He turned his attention toward the man at the door. “Seaman: would you be so kind as to allow the rest of your fellows in… we’re finished here.”

  HQ Army Group A

  Dover Castle, Kent

  Standing atop the heights that towered over East Cliff and Marine Parade, Dover Castle rose above the city to the east of its centre, keeping watch over The Channel and Dover’s eastern docks. A Norman fortification constructed during the 12th century, Dover castle stood on the site of an earlier stronghold that had been set to the torch during the invasion of 1066, only to be rebuilt by William the Conqueror himself following its surrender. The existing structure however had begun to take shape under Henry II, and had been improved several times over the intervening years, particularly during the reign of Henry VIII. This was followed by another huge reconstruction and rebuilding program at the time of the Napoleonic Wars, at which time a complex series of tunnels were dug beneath the castle and cliff tops to provide room for a two-thousand man garrison. After the cessation of hostilities, the tunnels were used against smugglers for a short period by the Coastal Blockade Service, the network then falling into disrepair and left abandoned for over a century.

  The outbreak of the Second World War changed all of that, with the tunnels being reopened and refurbished, initially for use as air raid shelters, and then converted soon after into a field hospital and a military command centre. There were five levels to the tunnel system, and each had been given a codename beginning with letters running in sequence from ‘A’ to ‘E’: Annexe, Bastion, Casemate, DUMPY and Esplanade (‘DUMPY’ was taken from an acronym that translated into ‘Deep Underground Military Position Yellow’).

  SS Fliegertruppen had been landed directly onto the castle grounds by helicopter during the initial phases of the invasion, and with complete surprise on their side, they’d made short work of rounding up the British HQ and the small garrison of troops within. Their work had been made substantially easier by detailed, accurate plans of the entire tunnel complex, provided by Reichsmarschall Reuters himself. Most assumed the information had been acquired through spies of fifth columnist traitors, although that was of no interest to the troopers themselves: they were content with taking the installation with negligible losses on either side, and had no interest in asking academic questions for which there was no likelihood of an honest answer.

  Generalfeldmarschall Gerd Von Rundstedt had moved his staff into those same tunnels by the evening of that first day. The castle’s capture had been completed so efficiently and quickly that there’d been no time for the incumbent British troops to do much by way of sabotage to the facilities, and as such, the place now seemed a perfect choice for Army Group A’s forward HQ. Generalleutnant Albert Schiller’s helicopter had landed in the castle grounds just before sunset, and he’d disembarked escorted by a trio of armed guards. Kurt Reuters was still recovering in the field hospital at Amiens but remained in constant contact, and it was an indication of the confidence Reuters displayed in his aide that he’d sent the man as his personal proxy at the front line. It was under those circumstances that Albert Schiller found himself walking upon English soil as part of the first successful conquering force since William, at the Battle of Hastings in 1066AD.

  The ‘Casemate’ network had been the original barracks tunnel system built during the Napoleonic Wars, and opened out onto a narrow but quite wide balcony perhaps two-thirds of the way up the cliffs, below the castle itself. With no easy access to the cliff tops or the ground below, there was little need for guards, but a pair of privates attached to the observation corps stood duty there anyway, more as a cursory attempt to keep an eye on the sea traffic pouring into the port below than any real attempt at keeping lookout for enemy activity that was never likely to eventuate. They went about their duties in the same spirit with which they’d been assigned, and had secured some chairs from somewhere inside so the pair could sit, talk and smoke as they waited out their time on watch.

  Standing a few metres away at the iron railings of that same balcony, Albert Schiller had made his way down through the tunnel complex in search of somewhere out in the open that was relatively private, where he and his entourage of escorts could have a quiet cigarette. Of course, there was no need to go outside for a smoke, but the activity’s indoor prohibition was so heavily ingrained in Schiller’s psyche after so many Realtime years in a non-smoking environment, that he’d found that he couldn’t comfortably enjoy a cigarette unless he was out in the open air. The irony of that fact wasn’t lost on him, particularly when one considered he’d actually only developed the habit since his arrival in the thirties, but the conditioning of his youth died hard, and in any case he also found being outdoors far more conducive to deeper thought… far more so than smoking indoors.

  Schiller sighed deeply as he took a long drag on the cigarette and blew the smoke back out into the chilly air a moment later, the whole time standing silent as he stared out over The Channel and the brightly lit docks below. From that balcony, one could look out over the entire Port of Dover and take in the constant and frenetic activity below as dozens of transports and supply ships were being simultaneously unloaded all around, with still more standing off outside the breakwater, waiting for clearance to come in as soon as a free berth became available. Schiller was normally a friendly and talkative man when taking a break, but the men had been assigned to him long enough to read the signs and recognise that he was troubled by something, and all three knew him well enough to understand that at such times, the generalleutnant was best left to his own devices.

  Schiller knew he should be filled with feelings of satisfaction, optimism or even something as simple as smug confidence… filled with the sort of emotions that naturally followed the resounding success of such an important operation. Taking into account the years of planning he and Kurt and all the others had put in, both before and after their return to that era, it should’ve been outright elation coursing through him as he stood there in that moment. Instead, the reality was that pleasant sensations of that nature were in fact the furthest things from his mind. Instead, he was feeling almost the exact opposite: sensations of despondency and dread that he couldn’t dispel, that each further notification of continued success served only to increase rather than dissipate.

  He finished the Lucky Strike and flicked the still-glowing butt away over the balcony railing before drawing the half-empty soft-pack from inside his thick, army greatcoat and picking out another cigarette. Schiller offered the pack around, two of the escorts taking one also, and the third man quickly produced a Zippo lighter which he used to light all of them as the others leaned forward in turn, hands cupped about their faces to protect against the chilly evening breeze.

  Drawing in another deep breath, Schiller released the resulting plume of smoke into the air in a long, desultory sigh. He could remember how excited he’d openly acted during the earlier campaigns, and that and mostly been the truth, but that confidence, drive and vision he’d shared with his friend and long-time commanding officer was failing him now as he stood there in the midst of what had become the Wehrmacht’s finest victory.

  If Albert Schiller wanted to really dig at the roots of the problem, he understood the reasons well enough. Unlike him, Kurt Reuters was a truly driven man, whose extra years meant he’d grown up through the absolute worst of the terror and privation that had plagued Germany following the end of the Second World War. The Kurt Reuters that Schiller had known in Realtime was a man of strong opinions, high morals and a powerful sense of honour, but the Reichsmarschall had allowed all of that to be sublimated by his overpowering need to exact revenge on a world that had destroyed his life before he’d even been born: a world that had brought about the execution of his father and the death of his mother through depression and suicide.

  Sch
iller, on the other hand, had been born an entire generation later and although Europe of the ‘Seventies and ‘Eighties had remained in the grip of a Cold War and the fear of nuclear holocaust, the West German economy had been far stronger. Schiller’s own family life as a child had itself been pleasant and uneventful, and as a young officer, straight out of the academy, he’d been inspired by Reuters’ intensity from the moment they’d met while serving with the Bundeswehr. They’d also become great friends over the years, as their military careers had grown together, but as the 1990s arrived, bringing Glasnost and Perestroika with it, the end of the Cold War suddenly and unexpectedly arrived.

  Finally, the worldwide ‘peace’ the entire planet had dreamed of had come to pass, yet the subsequent downsizing of military forces on both sides, right around the globe eventually left many ‘casualties’, Schiller and his CO included. Reuters was forced into retirement almost immediately, entirely against his will, and Schiller was lucky to retain his career in a new and reunified Germany that struggled for many years after to recover economically from the absorption of the shattered and moribund DDR back into the nation.