Go to the industry interface and repair (yellow text) is either toggled on or off.
If the industry repair is turned "on" and the base has over 10,000 supply, one point of the damage will be repaired at the end of the turn but it will use 1000 supply. At this stage it is probably only worth your while to repair the Shipyard. The payback time for repairing one point of light industry would be nearly three years from the time you repair the point of damage.
No matter how bad a situation is, you can always make it worse. - Chris Hadfield : An Astronaut's Guide To Life On Earth
Go to the industry interface and repair (yellow text) is either toggled on or off.
If the industry repair is turned "on" and the base has over 10,000 supply, one point of the damage will be repaired at the end of the turn but it will use 1000 supply. At this stage it is probably only worth your while to repair the Shipyard. The payback time for repairing one point of light industry would be nearly three years from the time you repair the point of damage.
BBfanboy-
I appreciate the guidance BB and I am on it.
Best Regards,
-Terry
"No one throws me my own guns and tells me to run. No one."
The troops did laundry, wrote letters home, and lied to their buddies about anything they thought might be interesting to pass the time and take their minds off El Lobo's deadly attacks.
Synopsis of combat Action for Today
1.) My brave Chinese are starving in Chungking. Even the rats have left.
2.) Japanese Afternoon Air Attack Near Takao (hex 84,65):
I just caught up after a one-month hiatus. It sounds like you gentlemen know how to party. Do you ever meet up in El's neck of the woods? I hear the festivities there can be interesting, especially along the Eastern Seaboard.
Congrats on the bold invasion. In 1943 Empire doesn't print brigades for garrison duty like it does in 1944. One question: What's the potential size of the shipyard in the Pescadores (i.e. once it's repaired)?
I just caught up after a one-month hiatus. It sounds like you gentlemen know how to party. Do you ever meet up in El's neck of the woods? I hear the festivities there can be interesting, especially along the Eastern Seaboard.
Congrats on the bold invasion. In 1943 Empire doesn't print brigades for garrison duty like it does in 1944. One question: What's the potential size of the shipyard in the Pescadores (i.e. once it's repaired)?
Cheers,
CC
Commander Cody-
Welcome back to The War College!
I hope that you had a good time during your month off.
El Lobo, Captain Haggard, and me have had numerous good times and adventures throughout the many years we've been good friends. Sitting out on the back deck with both of them, having a few drinks and a couple joints always results in my stomach hurting form laughing too much and too hard. Both of them just slay me. Sometimes we are all laughing so hard, none of us can get any words out and by the time we recover, we have forgotten what we were talking about that made us laugh so much. We're hopeless.
Circumstances have prevented me from visiting El Lobo in Thailand. However, within the next couple of years, I hope to make the trip to stay with him a few weeks and see the estate that he has built pretty much on his own. There are a few places that El Lobo wants to show me in Thailand; one of them is Pattaya.
Best Regards,
-Terry
"No one throws me my own guns and tells me to run. No one."
Well done on this deep invasion! I do have a few questions, if you don't mind me asking!
Can you hit parts of mainland Japan (Kyushu?) from Taiwan?
I can't remember when B-29s come online, but do you have any bomber groups able to hit Japanese industry? If you are, it seems like you could be in a decent position to try to hamper his aircraft production.
Do you intend a China invasion/What do you think you'll hit next?
Well done on this deep invasion! I do have a few questions, if you don't mind me asking!
Can you hit parts of mainland Japan (Kyushu?) from Taiwan?
I can't remember when B-29s come online, but do you have any bomber groups able to hit Japanese industry? If you are, it seems like you could be in a decent position to try to hamper his aircraft production.
Do you intend a China invasion/What do you think you'll hit next?
Lovejoy-
Thank you, however El Lobo still has a few days to hammer the Invasion Fleet prior to getting out of Dodge.
Yes, part of the Grand Strategy is to bomb Japan's Industry from Formosa.
Yes, after I feed the pets, in a bit, I will post Operation Culpepper Cattle Company which includes a synopsis of Allied Operations to date and sets forth the Objectives of Culpepper Cattle Company (presently scheduled to launch September 29, 1943).
Nice to note that you are following The War College, Lovejoy. May I call you Frank?
Best Regards,
-Terry
"No one throws me my own guns and tells me to run. No one."
Approaching the Island of Kulangsoo
Early morning, September 23, 1943
The port-island of Amoy, separated by a small channel from the port-island of Kulangsoo, are but two pieces of a confounding Chinese puzzle—islands adrift in a sinew of channels, bays and contributing waterways, all wedged between jutting points of mainland, one indistinguishable from the other on this stormy night.
Our convoy squadron veers away from the others, each heading to different landings. We turn—the burning transport we passed now faces us. By that relative placement alone can I determine which way lies the strait.
All along convoluted, overlapping shorelines fleet batteries hammer away, and there—on Amoy and the barely visible shoreline of presumed mainland—enemy coastal batteries answer our call to arms.
The old international settlement grows in proximity before us; despite unrelenting sheets of drizzle, many fires spread. Our navigational aid, which confirms for the outsider Kulangsoo’s identity, is known as “The Corinthian Palace”. Large, three-storied, and tiered with arches of late colonial-style, its edifice blazes white during the flash of explosions below. Obviously, in the hidden world unseen by the main of us, a rendered decision is being obeyed: for this masonic temple—prominently resting on the bluff at the base of the island’s bread-loaf rock pinnacle—is magically spared a single shell.
Gunner’s Mate Havelock slams our landing craft between the jam of landing craft; the ramp releases and slaps shore amid a percussion of other slaps, all grating into pebbled beach. Marines belch forth and swarm over crunchy surf six fields right of the harbor.
I am a polite man. I am a patriotic man. I do not wish to stand in the way of American Progress—Progress which, on this early morn, is attired in Marine fatigues.
... in other words, after humbly being reminded of a spongy mattress on faulty springs when I finally stand, I am particularly careful to be the last man off. As I totter forward, Gunner’s Mate Havelock has the notion to make our secure landfall more secure by gunning the engine. The crunchy beach digs in, the landing craft bolts and jerks and I am cast loose to fly over lowered ramp—
That is the last thing I remember.
Lt. F. Q. Bloomquist-Rose
SPECOP Haggard Group, USNR
Approaching the Island of Kulangsoo
Early morning, September 23, 1943
The port-island of Amoy, separated by a small channel from the port-island of Kulangsoo, are but two pieces of a confounding Chinese puzzle—islands adrift in a sinew of channels, bays and contributing waterways, all wedged between jutting points of mainland, one indistinguishable from the other on this stormy night.
Our convoy squadron veers away from the others, each heading to different landings. We turn—the burning transport we passed now faces us. By that relative placement alone can I determine which way lies the strait.
All along convoluted, overlapping shorelines fleet batteries hammer away, and there—on Amoy and the barely visible shoreline of presumed mainland—enemy coastal batteries answer our call to arms.
The old international settlement grows in proximity before us; despite unrelenting sheets of drizzle, many fires spread. Our navigational aid, which confirms for the outsider Kulangsoo’s identity, is known as “The Corinthian Palace”. Large, three-storied, and tiered with arches of late colonial-style, its edifice blazes white during the flash of explosions below. Obviously, in the hidden world unseen by the main of us, a rendered decision is being obeyed: for this masonic temple—prominently resting on the bluff at the base of the island’s bread-loaf rock pinnacle—is magically spared a single shell.
Gunner’s Mate Havelock slams our landing craft between the jam of landing craft; the ramp releases and slaps shore amid a percussion of other slaps, all grating into pebbled beach. Marines belch forth and swarm over crunchy surf six fields right of the harbor.
I am a polite man. I am a patriotic man. I do not wish to stand in the way of American Progress—Progress which, on this early morn, is attired in Marine fatigues.
... in other words, after humbly being reminded of a spongy mattress on faulty springs when I finally stand, I am particularly careful to be the last man off. As I totter forward, Gunner’s Mate Havelock has the notion to make our secure landfall more secure by gunning the engine. The crunchy beach digs in, the landing craft bolts and jerks and I am cast loose to fly over lowered ramp—
That is the last thing I remember.
Lt. F. Q. Bloomquist-Rose
SPECOP Haggard Group, USNR
F. Q. Bloomquist-Rose,
Outstanding!
You truly are an exceptional writer.
I am thoroughly looking forward to your updates as you march with the First Marine Division in China.
Your pal,
-Terry
"No one throws me my own guns and tells me to run. No one."