Creativity Challenge no5: Best battle report

Grenzewolf · **Grenzewolf**

D-Day Invasion Battle Report

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Normaly I like fixed scenarios with Historical vehicle and troop representations. However, I am finding enjoyment in alloweing players to build their own A-historical forces. So Monday a few of my friends came over for a nice big battle. (We've been playing Saturday nights at my motorcycle club house too. Yeah, their addicted now )

I cranked out a quick scenario and map set up. Ash whipped up some White Chilli and seven-layer dip. We played a quick warm up scenario then cut loose the dogs of war down in the game room. (Aka The Drunken Unicorn)

Opponents were UK landing forces & US Landing Forces VS German Defenders. Standard Rules.

Set up was simple. I mixed and matched the Juno & Omaha maps to make a beach 3 wide and 2 deep length wise. 6 objectives: 3 beach heads and 3 inland objectives (Fuel, HQ, Ammo dump just for fluff. no game effect) This created 3 individual sectors.

Objectives: Allies secure beach head in sector to deploy Heavy Vehicles and Guns. Secure one or more inland objectives to anchor invasion force for victory. Axis must control Inland objectives for victory.

Allied Commanders were given 150pts each for their Forces. German Commanders Spent 100pts each on defense.

Each side got some tasty free-bees.
Allies: Unlimited higgins boats but only 5 deployed at a time, just to make them fight over use of the fith (I have loads of Paper higgins but wanted to create the wave landing effect) 4X DD Shermans and a first round Naval Barrage.
Axis: One Pillbox with a load of Barbed Wire and Tank obstacles plus one mine field per each sector. Also each sector recieved a Flak36 88mm. After some German whining Adolf Galand would make a Historicly Correct appearance via a Free FW190. (yeah I know,, he and is Wing Man only did a single straffing run down the beach... but Dude.... what huevos!!)

The Germans invested heavily in no less than 24 fortress defenders pushing even my huge collection to the breaking point. Enter Volksturm as proxies; which worked well to distinquish the seperate commanders troops. Each bought two PZIVDs and a couple sand bagged mgs and light mortars. Both deffense forces were similar. The Norther Commander bought a Grizzled Vet and the Southern a Nebelwurfer. The German inteligence discovered both the American and UK forces were assembling some Para troops so SS Panzergrenadiers were placed to the rear with the MGS to protect the inland Objectives. Neither felt the need for a commander. Interesting.

The Allies had completely different builds. The Northern commander (US) Bought primarily infantry. Rangers, Buffalo Soldiers, Marines, Bars, Flame Throwers a Hero and 2X Screaming Eagle commanders. Support was A Rhino, Hellcat and 2X M1 81mm Mortars. The Rhino was treated as a Dozer Tank and could bust/ramp the bluffs on a successfull difficulty role.
The Southern Commander (UK) Went Just the opposite with a handfull of Gurkas and Brens and 1X Royal Engineer led by the Inspireing Hero. His deep strike force was 3X Defiant Para's and 2X Hawker Typhoons. His heavy hitter was a Churchill Crocodile.

Krauts set up first. After some kibitzing between commanders they unilateraly placed the majority of the anti tank obstacles in the water to disrupt the higgins landings(it never did) and placed all the barbed wire along the bluff edges that extended the entire length of the battle field. (Ow, double movement roles for infantry to scale)

Allies started off board and called in the naval bombardments. Both got two barrages on a random roll. Uk called in HE and disrupted the Beach defenders in the shell holes. The US called in 1 HE and 1 Smoke on an 88Flak (Role bellow turn number to Disipate)

Time to HIT THE BEACH!!

First /Second Rounds

The Higgins steamed at full throttle towards the beach with their anxious cargo. Shore guns barked in greetings, Damaging one of the boats and two of the DD-Shermans while still off shore. Ramps slamed into the sand disgourging men and flame flashing weapons. The Sceaming Eagle commander and his Ranger escort, having the unfortunate luck of their higgins disrupted/Damaged, opted to bail from the death trap and wade to shore.

The Bren Gunner at the Far Souther flank squeezed off an incredibly accurate burst into a pillbox protecting an 88mm and a stray round torched off the Flaks ammo incinerating the occupants.

While still in the water the Screaming Eagle Commander demanded the UK send a Typhoon to silence the PZIVD's that had crested the Bluffs. The UK commander complied and scrubbed his Deep para Drop and diverted a lone Typhoon to his Ally's sector. Out of the Sun a lone FW190 appeared 20mm cannons blazing. The valiant Brit pulled out of his ground run and attempted to turn into the Wurger, but his tracers went wide of the nimble Butcher Bird. With a squeeze of the stick Galland's cannons struck home, leaving the Typhoon an inky black stain in the sky.

The Sceaming Eagle Commander was correct in his apprehension of the PZIVD's.
"Damn." was his last thought when he seen the stuby muzzles flash.

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Last edited by Grenzewolf : 02-03-08 at 11:38 PM.

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Third/Fourth Rounds

Protecting every grain of sand as though they were diamonds the fortress defenders would not conceed and made the invaders pay dearly all along the beaches. The Northen beach head defenders fell to overwhelming firepower while the Central defenders were merely by-passed by a DD-Sherman securing the Beach Head for the allies. Two more 88's were knocked out by the combined efforts of the landing forces and and a Vengefull DD-Sherman silenced an Elite PZIVD. The Germans still had some luck however as the winds shifted clearing the the smoke from the last 88mm, but to no avail. A spiteful BAR swore it would not fire again as he watched the burning DD-Sherman and dedicated his fire to it at every opprotunity. A newly arrived Screaming Eagle Commander with the second wave assesed the situation. The big guns were silenced but that curesed Nebelwurfer in the bunker was clearing huge swaths of his troops. He to requested UK aid to his sector argueing it was the key to victory. The UK Commander reluctanly sent one of his Defiant Paratroopers to help mop up the North and Central beaches. Dropping into the middle of an all out fire fight proved to be more than a single Para Troop was up to. Even if he was "Defiant".

The UK Commander now (with only one Typhoon remaining and two Paras) changed his original plan from seizing an inland objective in on fell swoop. The beach defenders in his Southern sector were decimating his landing force. He needed his Churchill Crocodile in that Sector promptly. The Paras would now jump in directly behind the bluff defenders intent on raking their vulnerable rear. The Southern sector was a beehive of deadly enemies entrenched upon the bluffs and Beach. With the defenders were a Sniper, mortar, and Sand Bagged MG. Rumor had it that there was even an SS Panzergrenadier mixed in with the Beach Defenders. The Southern German Commander positioned his forces well knowing his sector held the only bluff free path off the beach. Canopies opened directly over the intended LZ as the Typhoon raced above the roof tops to lend support. the German defenders looked behind their shoulders nevously awaiting the Maelstrom. Once again the growling Double Raidial BMW of the Focke Wulf clawed to the rescue.

"KILL That Damn Thing!!" Screamed the US commander into the radio as he watched the scene.

"Not this time." cooly rebuked the English pilot as he stayed true to his run. As the Typhoon shuddered and the canopy shattered under a hail of 20mm shells he torched off his rockets. Thankfully he didnt live long enough to see them go wide. The Maroon Berets watched in horror as their last Guardian Angel was engulfed in flame. They vowed to avenge him on the ground.

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Fith/Sixth Rounds The Break Out

Though the Bluffs were cleared of German Armor and the FLAK36, the Fortress deffenders intimidated the US Infantry massing on the beach. Flame throwers cowered in the shell holes and even the Hero fell back. The US infantry languished on the Northern beaches unable or unwilling to launch a coordinated assault against the lightly defended Double Bluffs. The assault stalled awaiting the attached Royal Engineers arrival with the Fourth Wave.

The Commander of the Dozer Sherman (Rhino) scanned the situation through his bino's. As expected the shared Central Sector of the Germans was lightly defended and not as well coordinated. The American Armor siezed the intiative and choose it as the Break Out. The fully operational DD-Sherman swung South to join his tanker bretheren. They charged East and focused their fire power on the loathed Nebelwurfer. Dozer Tank dropped it's blade and began pushing a massive earthen wall towards the bluff to build a ramp. A damaged DD-Sherman crew sacrificed themselfs to protect the vital vehicle.

Meanwhile the Southern German commander was battling an Inspireing hero and Bren Gunner that had managed to wrest the beach objective from him. Though Brits held uncontested, when the smoke cleared their were no Englanders left standing. The Crocodile lumbered onto the beach with no living friendlies in site. Concidering this new threat he hastily withdrew the SS Panzergrenadier. The PZG found a more defensible position behind the bluffs on the road into the city. The choke point was his best chance to engage the Churchill. At that moment the German South Defense Commander recieved an urgent call from the Riechs Fuhrer. The Fuhrer demanded he return to Berlin with the Family Car since it was snowing and a school night. The assembled commanders turned their heads away in pity as he begged and pleaded with the Fuhrer for permish to remain and finish the battle. To no avail, the Fuhrers orders will not be contested. The Eastern Front (AKA grounding) not an option the junior comander skulked from the bunker. Der Fuhrer is a hard woman but bakes a tender chicken.

Enter yours truly into the hot seat.

The new German Commander released the reserves to slow the Ami Pazers that were cresting the Bluff. Others were divereted to deal with the Defiant Paratroopers whom were chewing on the Bluff Defenders. To buy time the Sniper was ordered to get a head shot on the Crocodile. He did. The surviving PZIVD in the south tried to maximize the effort but the Crocs hide was just too thick.

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Seventh thru Tenth Rounds Fight for the HQ

The UK Commander had not recieved further contact from Para's. His armored fist reported the death of their commander by sniper and was requesting further orders. He could send them through the tank obstacles to thier front and the objective beyond but it could belly on the dragons teeth. Alternativly he could order them to plod accross the beach North to the adjacent sector where the Americans had achieved a breach but time was running out. If only his Engineers were still alive there might be a chance for England to save the day. Though he knew it was his decision he begrudged the American commander for altering his battle plan. BAH!! He picked up the radio microphe.

"Croc, bit of a spot we have here, sorry old boy tuff break this. Abandon the Southern party and head north and link up with those Yank tankers. Best Luck."

"Understood" The Cocodile Gunner, heir Commander, unkeyed his mike.
"Bloody hell!! So close!" he tapped the tank intercom switch "Danny! Turn the Beasty North Like a good lad."

At that moment a round from the last surviving PIVD ricocheted of his turret. The tracer trailing off to sea.

"Why you dirty BAS***D!! Driver STOP!! Were not leaving Yet!" He slid down into the turret resumeing his gunners seat and laid the gun. "Right you are Jerry. Rude of me not to say Good bye!!"

With a crack the Panzer IVD's turret lifted from it's hull. As the Crocodile slowly plodded away leaving the sector empty the Southern defenders followed up the coast shadowing it. The Wehrmacht Sniper found a hole in the barbed wire and slid on his belly down to the sand. Far up beach, through his scope he spotted a Royal Engineer attached to the American force rush through the mass of infantry towards the barbed wired bluffs. He steadied he breathing and time slowed. He barely felt the pressure on his index finger before the G43 snaped. The engineer stumpled, fell and did not rise.

As the assembled US Infantry dove to ground unsure of where the shot had originated an all to familar shape raced just above the Horizon. Seeing the infantry dive for cover the Focke Wulf pilot cursed that something had ruined his stealthy approach. As he drew nearer he saw tiny flashes of their guns twinkling at him. A fuel line shattered spraying 97 octane accross the exhaust manifold just to the rear of the engine cowl. A spark,,,,, and flame ran the length of the Fuselage. Feeling lucky to have lasted this long the pilot tipped his wing in salute to the infantry below. Yanking the stick he pointed his mortaly wounded Mill towards friendly lines and prepared to hit the silk.

Just as the Allied commands were preparing to issue a withdrawl and evacuate order to all Landing Forces, the radio crackled to life.
buzzzzz ..."This is Dozer Tree-Fife....<wooooop> illage at Grid Fower-Niner-zero...<ssskrrrrr>...Won --Break--<chik> have made contact with Elements of German Command....<sreeeeeeech>....engaging!! Time NOW!!!!"
The US tankers had managed to Blitz passed the German infantry rushing in their path. Ignoring the defensive fire they forced through. The Rhino and Hellcat ground their tracks to a halt. Flanking the German HQ was a mine field.

The Dozer Tank Commander Screamed down the Hatch "Driver!! Hard Right!!! GET ME IN TIGHT!!"

It wasn't over yet. The Tankers had bought some more time.

From among the German Defenders leapt a grizzled veteran fresh from the Eastern Front. With out a second thought he set grimly to his task, knowing what must be done. With teller mines in both hands he sprinted to the Ami Tank Destroyer. The SS Panzer Grenadier and Fortress defenders that had failed to slow the Us tanks down continued their pursuit doggedly on foot. The HQ must be protected at all cost. The Sand Bagged Mg42 stood mute unable to participate in fight. Caught in the frenzy, the remaining entrenched Fortress Defender in the Command post abandoned his position and lept on the Rhino.
Boom!!
The Hellcat went up in a fireball as the teller mine detonated. The SSPG and defender Caught up with the Trailing DD-Sherman and managed to disrupt it. The Grizzled Vet then dashed toward the Dozer tank and dispatched it almost as easily as the Hellcat. Turrets swung wildly as the tanks attempted to dust each other off with 30cal fire. Finaly the Lumbering Crocodile crested the ramped bluff to lend its support from a distance, killing a German atop a Yank Tank. Undisrupted a damaged DD-Sherman crashed through the hulls of its fallen comrades to contest the objective yet again. Defenders fell till only the SSPG and the Grizzled vet remained squaring off with the damaged DD-Sherman.

Both sides were spent. No clear victor existed only a count of the losses would reveal success or failure of the Landings.

When the reapers toll was tallied the morning would find the German line still held.

Great game.

swarbs · **swarbs**

Now that Grenzewolf posted a long one, I feel like I can too. We really needed an entry from the naval side anyway. This story represents the first game I played with the experimental night rules, so it’s a small engagement. 1 Jintsu + 5 Yukikaze vs 1 Salt Lake City + 1 Atlanta + 1 Boise + 3 Fletcher.

“Signal from the flag sir,” intoned the port lookout.
The signalman was already at his station making an initial reply and receiving the rest of the message. ENS Arbuthnot strode onto the bridge through the hatch from the bridge wing and addressed the XO.
“Sir, a signal from the flag, our number and a course and speed change.”
“Very well,” replied the exec, not diverting his gaze ahead, the profile of his face barely visible in what little red light escaped from the chart room. They had been expecting a course change for a while now. USS Arnold, a Fletcher-class destroyer, was nearing the south eastern edge of their patrol box to the west of Savo Island, and would probably turn back to the north west to cover their patch of water all over again. Unexpectedly, the course change sent them turning to the southward and increased speed to 31 knots. This caught the stoic exec’s attention.
The light blinked again in the distance. “Another signal, sir,” called the signalman, and the two officers stepped onto the bridge wing to see for themselves. Barrett, the signalman, called out the message as it was transmitted. “Intelligence indicates Japanese force headed down Slot.”
“Good work Barrett,” the exec said absentmindedly as he stepped back on the bridge. Barrett smiled, getting a compliment from the exec was even less likely than hearing merry Christmas from Ebenezer Scrooge.
“Arbuthnot,” the exec said, snapping the ensign from his racing thoughts, “wake the captain.”

Though it didn’t take long for the Captain to get to the bridge, Savo had already blended with the dark northern horizon when he arrived. The Heerman, flagship of DesDiv16 was still directly abeam to port, with the Barrow, the third member beyond her. The lookouts reported numerous vessels dead ahead, the transports with their cruiser covering force, right where they should be.
After the Battle of Savo Island, the Americans ran as many supplies as they could to Guadalcanal by day, under cover of their superior air power. At night they withdrew and left the sound to the Japanese who ran in their own supplies protected from aerial attack by darkness. Today, though, the pattern had been broken. Two of the transports had collided inbound, and their reduced speed meant that they couldn’t start unloading until late afternoon. By nightfall the job wasn’t done. The marines needed the supplies though, needed them desperately, and the Navy would do their part.
Soon the outlines ahead were clear enough to identify. The transports, huddled in a group near shore, were already recalling their boats. With the Japanese on the way this would be the end of the unloading even though they weren’t quite finished. Closer, and to the east were the three cruisers, a hodgepodge of units, but all that could be mustered after the disaster at Savo. First in line the Greensboro, a Brooklyn class light cruiser, next the flagship, Germantown, a pre-war heavy like those lost at Savo, and finally the Logansport. Designed for AA support to the carriers, Logansport’s presence was a testament to the desperate situation on Guadalcanal.

***************note, actual game play starts here**************

United, the warships of the covering force spread out abeam, heading north, towards the unseen enemy. The destroyers were in line abreast, followed closely by the cruisers, in the same formation. The westernmost ships kept close to the shore of Guadalcanal, blocking the shortest route the Japanese could take to the transports. As Savo Island hove into view about 10 miles ahead Arbuthnot became conscious of a strange noise. Having spent enough time with Chief Harris down in the engine room, he was used to the tenor and pitch of just about every mechanical thing on board. It was definitely an engine though, something mechanical; he stepped back onto the bridge wing.
“You hear anything Barrett?,” he inquired of the signalman.
“Can’t say as I do, sir,” answered Barrett, who shrugged. Arbuthnot looked up, that was where the sound was coming from, an airplane, it must be. At that moment a tiny flicker of light appeared to port, right over the Barrow, westernmost of the American destroyers. The flicker grew brighter, at first imperceptibly, then faster and faster until it caused the ensign to squint and wince in pain. An aircraft, a flare ...
Arbuthnot started to shout, but his warning was interrupted. The entire northern horizon exploded violently in hellish shades of orange and yellow. The muzzle flashes of the Japanese squadron.

The Japanese shells arrived at the American fleet with the sounds of gunfire. Gouts of water were thrown into the air. On the far left side of the line, Barrow, the vessel most illuminated by the Japanese floatplane’s flare, erupted into smoke and flame. Small caliber shells ignited the depth charges on her fantail, further illuminating the ship. At times shell splashes completely obscured her from the rest of the fleet, time and again, she sailed out of them until a final shell exploded on her bridge and she fell out of line, veering uncontrolled towards shore and settling in the water.
Shells splashed around the other destroyers also, sending spray aboard the Arnold, but doing no significant damage. The flagship, Germantown, was also taking a beating right in the center of the line. Hit after hit sent up bursts of flame, but her crack damage control teams were able to restore order quickly, keeping her operating at full efficiency.
Somehow, despite their forewarning, the Americans had been surprised again, but at least this time the surprise wore off quickly. Already at battle stations, the crews crouched behind their gun-shields, eager to return fire. The gunnery officer’s voice came through the speaking tube from the fire control center, “Captain, request turn to open up our broadside.”
“Not yet,” replied the old man, “train turrets around to starboard in preparation for a turn to port.” The captain’s reasoning soon became apparent. Bubbling wakes raced past the ship on either side: torpedoes. An explosion to port drew everyone’s attention to the west. The Greensboro, turning to dodge the shattered wreck of the Barrow, found herself broadside to the enemy. Two plumes of water, lit an eerie orange from within, flew up her side, the first tearing a huge rent in the hull below the bridge, the second ripping the stern completely off the ship, which immediately began to settle in the water.
Even as she sank, however, her guns spoke, somehow firing at a tremendous rate, spouting a wall of steel and flame. Shells fell all around the two Japanese destroyers on the western end of the line, hits visible through the splashes. Then, suddenly, one of them spectacularly exploded filling the air with smoke, fire, and the supplies she had been carrying for the Guadalcanal garrison. The soldiers crouched on her decks were flung into the water and those that were able began swimming through the burning wreckage and fuel oil towards shore.
With the first volley of Japanese torpedoes passed, the surviving Americans turned in unison to port and unleashed their gunnery on the enemy. The guns of the Barrow sounded high-pitched compared to the larger ones on board the flagship, but despite their small size, the shells arched out on a true line hitting the destroyer opposite. The Germantown directed her larger rifles against the largest ship in the enemy line, a light cruiser, Jintsu class. The shots started a fire amidships, perhaps having ignited the aviation fuel and supplies stored there. Logansport loosed a volley as well, but the gunners, with little experience in surface actions, shot poorly, causing the sea to boil with shell splashes well short of the Japanese destroyers on the eastern end of the line.

The two American vessels closest to Guadalcanal had both been destroyed, and though they had taken one of the enemy with them, a gap existed through which the Japanese could rush to their objectives. They charged ahead, turning in unison to the South, closing the range where their torpedoes would have a better chance of taking a toll. The second of the two destroyer transports made a sudden jog towards shore to discharge her cargo of men and supplies. To counter the threat to their own transports, and to intercept the Japanese landings, the two remaining American destroyers were ordered west to intercept. With the power of the Japanese torpedoes demonstrated once, however, the American admiral pulled his two cruisers back, where their guns could still tell upon the enemy, but where they would be less prone to torpedo attack.
Ensign Arbuthnot was too exhilarated by the fight to realize that the destroyers were effectively being sacrificed to stop the Japanese advance. “Arbuthnot, get out to the bridge wing, make sure the searchlights are manned.” the captain ordered coolly. He had enough experience to realize that his brand new ship was expendable, and to realize the import of this latest order.
The Arnold’s searchlights snapped on at the same time as Heerman’s, casting stark light on the two Japanese destroyers directly following the enemy cruiser. These vessels, as yet undamaged, could barely be seen otherwise by the more distant cruisers. This advantage came with a significant drawback, however, for the Japanese didn’t take kindly to being so illumined.
At close quarters with the enemy destroyer-transport, the Arnold and Heerman loosed a torrent of 5-inch shells on their quarry. The Japanese destroyer, pock-marked with hits, could not resist the onslaught, and settled into the warm water. Arbuthnot’s view from the bridge wing was unprecedented. The crew knew their jobs well and needed no direction, making the Ensign more spectator than leader.
The other Japanese destroyers opened up, concentrating their fire on the Arnold. Aiming for the searchlights, their salvos were well grouped and fast. The shell splashes started short but inexorably crept closer with each shot, until finally one whistled by near overhead, clipping the top of the forward stack.
“We’re in for it now,” Barrett whispered to himself, though all on the bridge wing could hear. He was right. The next shells came in groups of three or four, often straddling Arnold, and almost as often hitting her. The first serious hit tore into the forward torpedo mount resulting in a massive explosion, igniting the torpedo’s warheads and warping the two funnels away from the explosion fore and aft. A jet of hot air reached Arbuthnot on the bridge and the resulting fire streamed astern, further illuminating the ship. Hits now came quickly, one rendering number one turret into a twisted mass of metal, more abstract art than weapon, another hit ripping off some piece of electronics from above the bridge, causing everyone except the stoic captain to duck. Barely anyone even noticed the torpedoes that raced by, missing Arnold, but finding a mark in the Heerman, which sank quickly, settling in the same patch of water where two of her Japanese counterparts had already disappeared.
Shells also pierced Arnold’s sides, not as visually impressive as the hits above decks, but perhaps more dangerous, cutting steam lines and reducing the ships speed to a crawl. With smoke billowing from the engineering spaces and water bubbling through holes in the side, the Arnold began to take on a slight list. Too much machinery was damaged for the ship to be of any more use. The squadron rushed past to the southward, the cruiser ignoring Arnold, knowing she was out of the fight.

The Logansport’s gun crews, gaining a lifetime’s experience in a single night, finally found the range of their enemy, crippling a destroyer. In return, however, she received the fire of the Japanese cruiser. Shells ripped through Logansport’s vulnerable sides, not enough to slow her down, but she wouldn’t stand much more of this sort of pounding. Germantown continued to shoot well, crippling yet another Japanese destroyer with her secondary guns, and spectacularly blowing up another with her 8-inch main battery. Though the American destroyers were all now either out of the fight, or destroyed outright, their sacrifice had not been in vain. The American cruisers had exacted a similar toll on the Japanese, who now had only two destroyers afloat, both moving slowly and burning profusely.

It took Herculean efforts on the part of the damage control teams to bring the fires between decks under control. The damage control teams were rotated in shifts, some resting to avoid utter exhaustion and to breathe fresh air, while others completed the fight below decks. Fully expecting the Japanese to turn northward and avoid destruction, Arnold’s crew remained at the guns when not fighting fires. To his amazement, however, they continued their southward charge at the best speed they could make. While Arnold’s fires were slowly brought under control, the battle receded towards the southern horizon. The sharply outlined shapes that burst from the night with every gun flash dissolved with distance into a hodge-podge of flickering lights, like a distant thunderstorm. The fight was nearing the transports now, and the American cruisers would soon run out of room to run. The Japanese cruiser, as if sensing the chase was near an end, poured on speed and charged.
On the southern horizon the muzzle flashes continued, then intensified. Two plumes of light, fires from the burning Japanese destroyers, flickered and went out. The resting portion of Arnold’s crew cheered, perhaps they had been sunk. Night, for a brief second, was suddenly lifted, as a fireball proceeded skyward, then another, and then silence. Knowing the power of Japanese torpedoes, the crew’s exhausted looks, replaced by thin smiles at the sinking of the Japanese destroyers, returned, even more morose than before. The Arnold limped to the south, their radio equipment shattered in the fighting, like a blind old man. Each second, Arbuthnot expected the shape of the Japanese cruiser to resolve out of the darkness and finish them off.

Dawn revealed a spectacle much different from the one they expected, however. There, guarding the bevy of retiring transports was Germantown, seemingly unscathed. The torpedo hit that had been visible last night was not one of the feared longlances, but rather fired from Logansport, destroying the Japanese cruiser in an amazing feat of luck. An AA cruiser, unused to surface actions, untrained at night, through a lucky hit, as she herself was sinking, had utterly shut the door on Japanese plans to destroy the American transports.
Arnold and Germantown exchanged delighted greetings, but the pleasure of finding friendly survivors soon wore off for everyone. The carnage of the night was astounding. An entire Japanese destroyer squadron destroyed: five destroyers and their light cruiser flotilla leader. The Americans paid dearly as well, two destroyers sunk, one crippled, two light cruisers sunk. Though they could take little joy in their victory, the American survivors could at least take some satisfaction that they had met the enemy at night, on their own terms, and won.

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Ok, thanks for reading, sorry it’s long, I wanted to originally release it in parts. Sorry also, if the end seems contrived, but I actually rolled that six from Atlanta’s (Logansport’s) torpedoes on that same turn she was sunk, seemed too good not to be a story.
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Gross Admiral Raeder · **Gross Admiral Raeder**

I have somewhat of one put together in my and EK Game, Needs touching up and a finish

NeuralDream · **NeuralDream**

A few more hours for the final deadline on this one.
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My new blog, specialised in the military equipment of Greece (1821-today).

Sink the Bismark · **Sink the Bismark**

A Bit long, but workable.
I like these fictional reports, gives me a lot of freedom.

Sunday-September 14th 1944
Operation Market Garden, the brainchild of Field Marshall Montgomery, is launched against the German forces. One U.S. detachment of the 101st, appears no different then the thousands of others boarding their C-47 Transports, and CG-4A Gliders. Yet due to one lucky 88mm shell, their story will be told around the world for eons to come.
Due to a personnel shortage, most of the pilots are inexperienced, and know little about navigation during flight. The experienced crew of one P-51 Mustang, nicknamed the Happy Hornet, will lead them. They are the only ones who know how to properly locate the target, a small bridge near Arnhem.
The planes fly out in typical formation, crossing the Dutch border without incident. As they fly over a small village, disaster strikes. Five 88mm AA guns have been set up around the area, and they all open fire at the formation. Three shells miss completely, and one barely clips a transport. Yet, one shell, fired slightly after the others, brings down the Mustang’s wing.
Flames billow across the sky, as the Mustang hurtles towards the ground. The pilot is unable to get out in time, and dies instantly when the plane hits the ground in a fiery explosion. The transports fly up, accelerating quickly to get out of the death trap. One of them radios the base in France, reporting the death of their navigator. A voice crackles back out of the radio-
“Climb to high level to keep out of Anti Air effective range. Stay in the clouds. Come Back….
And then the radio dies…………..
The planes fly back up through the low-level clouds. Skittish, they climb into the middle of them, obscuring the ground. Unfortunately, they didn’t hear the rest of the message, ordering them to come back down after 3 minutes. They fly through the clouds, over fields, lakes, towns, and over the Rhine River.
After an hour in the clouds, the planes ease to the ground. They search, but can’t see any signs of the river. After about half an hour, the planes need to head back if they want to be sure to not run out of fuel. After some debate, they decide that they must have turned and are now around Belgium. They decide to drop the paratroopers and gliders, and head home.
The drops take almost no time, and run like clockwork. The troops assemble outside a small meadow, and their leader, a Screaming Eagle captain, takes a quick count. There are 15 squads of Screaming Eagle paratroopers, and the glider detachment- 3 M1 Garand rifles, a resourceful hero 2 BAR gunners, one concealed forward observer, a Hunting Sniper, 1 Quad 50, and 3 British 6 pounder anti-tank guns. He whistles softly, and orders the BAR gunners to go scout for a road, and see if they can figure out where they are, as one of the gunners grew up in a German part of Milwaukee and is fluent in Dutch, Flemish, and German. He hears a scream 2 minutes later, and shortly the soldier is gasping for breath, and stuttering uncontrollably. Slapping him, the captain roars, “Well, where in this damn place are we?”
Coming to his senses, the recruit stutters “the s-sign said-d 50 KM East to H-Hamburg. There is a good 20 seconds of gaping by the captain, and then a good 2 minutes of swearing. Finally easing off, the captain barks out “OK, battle formation! Quick March West, lets see how far we can go until sunset! The radio works, but I want to call headquarters somewhere more sheltered. March!
The column goes quickly forward, with the BARs and the spotter scouting ahead. The Spotter comes back after an hour to make his report- “There is some kind of German force ahead sir! I can’t tell how many, but it’s sizable!”
What he actually saw were the elite soldiers of the Wolf’s Fang division. This force contained both regular troops and SS soldiers. The massive force had 5 squads of SS Panzergrenaiders, 8 Mauser Kar squads, a Grizzled Veteran, a Wehrmacht Expert Sniper, 3 SS Storm troopers, a Brummbar, 2 Tigers, 3 Panthers, and a Wirbelwind, all led by a SS Haupsturmfuhrer. They had received a report of a Para drop in the area, and have been sent to investigate. The Fuhrer wants the first sizable force to land in Germany to get a warm welcome of steel.
The Germans send out scouts to test the area, and the Americans get into ambush formation. The German recon patrol, 3 Mauser Kar rifles, marches right into the trap. With a yell, the Screaming Eagles destroy the Mauser Kars in one volley of accurate gunfire. Hearing the noise, the Germans get into a formation and march into the woods. As they draw close, one of the Americans trips on a branch, and falls on a thorn bush. Hearing the crack, the SS Panzergrenaiders fire into the trees, taking down one squad of Paratroopers, feeling pleased with himself, the SS Haupsturmfuhrer pops up to rally his men, and promptly becomes the Sniper’s first victim. The Brummbar fires into the woods, taking down an M-1 Garand. The Tigers roll right into the mess, and the Panthers drive around the battlefield, to try to outflank the Americans.
The Tigers cause general havoc, as several American Paratroopers are forced to dodge out of the way to avoid being trampled. As the Tigers head for the Quad 50, the six pounders find range, immediately knocking the armor off the right side of the lead Tiger. The next shell penetrates into the tank, causing a fireball seen around the woods. The resourceful hero takes the BARs and charges the SS Storm troopers. As they retreat, they are effectively ambushed by 5 Para’s, two of which are then blasted by the Brummbar. The Panthers complete their circle, and take down the remaining M1 Garands. The Grizzled Veteran and the SS Panzergrenaiders destroy the Anti-Tank guns, causing the Americans to focus the fire of the Quad 50 on them, taking down the Grizzled Veteran. Deciding further fighting is hopeless, the Americans flee out of the woods, taking down three Mauser Kars as they run.
The German tanks pursue them closely, but are forced to stop when the Americans charge through a swamp. The tired men of the 101st finally stop near dawn. They have only their captain, three paratroopers, one BAR gunner, and the spotter left. They contact HQ, who promise air support will arrive soon, and it does a few hours later. Two Transports, covered by 30 mustangs, manage to land on an abandoned airfield that had been bombed recently by the Americans, taking the remaining troops back home. All of the Americans received Congressional Medal of Honor for their brave actions that day.
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WAS 64/64
39-45 36/60

EvilKobra · **EvilKobra**

ND, I've been writing a report on the Admiral Cup finals, and I'd thought I'd start by giving a short "what if" background story explaining how and why the rather unusual battle could have taken place.

Thing is, the introduction ended up being 90% of the write-up Embarassed

, yet I'm satisfied enough with its quality that I wouldn't mind submitting it. Would it be acceptable?
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NeuralDream · **NeuralDream**

Sure. Btw hit refresh.
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My new blog, specialised in the military equipment of Greece (1821-today).

EvilKobra · **EvilKobra**

Me likey, though of course we'll need to fix other graphics/text colours/etc to match...
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NeuralDream · **NeuralDream**

EvilKobra · **EvilKobra**

Yes, you're probably right. I'll fix this one too (same problems, plus the JPEG compression really messes with the lighter parts of the gradient), as soon as I can... need to finish this write-up tonight Wink

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EvilKobra · **EvilKobra**