Just posting here to ask fellow AAR'ers some questions, and to pitch my idea for an Uncommon Valor AAR.
While reading AAR's that give blow by blow recounts of day to day action within the game, I often find them unable to keep my interest for great lengths of time. It just is not enough I find to just reprint combat reports.
I have started a scn from 1 May- 31 Dec/ 42 "The End Begins" I believe, against a fellow ladder mate from The Blitz. My idea for the AAR is something that has been done here before, several times, and I liked what I read. My AAR will revolve around the lives of several correspondents who are in the action with the troops, and also a few junior officers attached to staffs of both MacArthur and Nimitz. I'm trying to research this enough that I do not take too many liberties with accuracy, and the actual history of command in the theatre. I decided to use journalists after reading John Toland's Rising Sun, and reading his accounts from a Japanses journalist in Guadalcanal. Journalist are great, as they can relate what happens to the men fighting the war, but they have the ability to always move on to new experiences, to keep things fresh and interesting, yet be witness to some of the greatest events in history.
In the end what the AAR Iwill be like is a novelette of sorts, and although the story will begin with three keys journalist whom I hope you will all get to know, new faces may arise, and depending on the assignments they get, some may not make it back.
I decided to create the officer characters in the story to give the reader a connection to the big picture in the game, and let them also be there in the planning rooms while MacArthur and others make their plans.
As the scenario has just been started I am creating the background for the characters to step in to (We have only plotted one move, and my opponent is away til the first week of July) and I also want to make sure that any staff briefings I write about, with battle plans, will always be protected by a blackout of a few turns.
My questions are these:
1. Are the readers of this page interested in reading an AAR like this?
2. Also, how does one post images with entries on the thread, as I belive that pictures do sell the AAR, as much as a good story.
Let me know what you think. If no one is interested, not much of a reason to post, even though I will be doing it for my own interest. Cheers Shoop.
Sounds different and interesting. I also have trouble wading through many lines of the standard Combat Report of an AAR. I look for the comments and read the lines around them. I think your idea would be a good one.
A good idea I think one of the reasons people get tired of the AARs after a bit is a feeling of being "disconnected" with the events unfolding. Wading through the CRs gets monotonous after a while, and I've tried to help it along by italicizing mine so people can scroll and get to the "good stuff".
I also like the way some AARs now seem to be going, with a separate AAR for each side and full disclosure so the readers can see more about how the player is thinking and cheer (or boo) as the plans come together like a well-oiled machine or fall apart like wet newspaper (correspondent pun - couldn't resist).
Bottom line is that I'd read it with interest and kudos for trying something new
"Shouldn't we be leading the shark into shore...instead him leading us out to sea?"
Love the idea. I have added the story part to my AAR and found that it adds so much time to the writing. I have neglected it, with good reason as the star it is out of combat, but it's alot of extra work.
Saying that they make good reading so i hoipe you can go ahead with it
Glad to hear that their is interest here. I will be posting the AAR on this forum. I am just getting the prelim story down for the last few weeks of April 42' before the actual scn starts, to set the mood etc.
BTW Cap I loved the CCN reference, especially the hiding under the desk comment. I'll assure you none of my writers will be hiding under desks in this theatre of War. In fact I will be encouraging my correspondents to risk their lives daily. Maybe even one will have a huge deathwish. Problems at home I guess, just wait til the Dear John Letters start to arrive. Should make for some great copy. Cheers Guys. I should have an intor later tonight. Bye.
Ed's Notes: My intention with this AAR was to create an alternate history of events during WWII in the South Western Pacific Theatre of Operations. To do this, I felt it necessary to tell the story as it was unfolding, from the perspective of someone not only privy to the big operational decisions being made during the campaign, but also to add color to the events, giving it that up close and personal perspective of the men in the front lines. At first I thought the battlefield perspective could be told through the eyes of the soldiers, sailors, and airmen fighting in the events that were unfolding. In the end I decided that this approach would get bogged down, trying to recreate all these experiences from so many individuals. Therefore I decided that since this is an alternative history in the making, perhaps the events would best be captured by a group of correspondents working in the field. This is the path I will follow. Starting with three journalist (possible adding more), I will let them describe the sights and sounds of the war as it unfolds. These writers will keep day to day journals, and will file stories usually on a weekly basis to the military censors. Their journals, and notes, will be the real force that drives the AAR.
The events relative to the campaigns progress will be told from the perspective of two ADC's of Gen. Douglas MacArthur's HQ, who obviously will be privy to operational plans, and will be young and brash enough to be sent to the front lines as Mac's eyes and ears to add a military flavour to the front line stories. One of these ADC's will be posted to Nimitz's theatre of Op's to keep the reader appraised of the Solomon's action, while the other will serve in MacArthur's own theatre.
The Story Begins
CINCSWPA HQ- Melbourne, April 25, 1942 (1800hrs)- General Douglas MacArtur sat back in his desk chair, silent, his attention focused on a single Filipino man standing in the middle of a room full of American and Australian military officers, who until the mans arrival had been engaged in a stressful staff meeting. The man was Carlos Romulo, who had been brought into the Generals office as a complete suprise to the General. One of the last men to escape Batann, only the week before, he appeared thin and frail. A ghost of his former self.
The General got to his feet, and broke the silence, as he walked over to embrace the sickly looking individual in front of him. "Carlos, my Boy! I can't bear to look at you!", the general said seemly holding back his emotions.
"What news do you have from the Philippines?", asked MacArthur
"Not good, general", an equally emotional Romulo replied. "The fall of Corregidor is imminent, their are no rations left, and General Wainright remains in the Tunnel, resigned to his fate. He asked me to personally tell you that he has done everything possible, but the end near."
MacArthur placed his hands one his friends shoulders once again. "But you have made it out Carlos, that is a sign, we will return together, soon enough, back to your home. Please have a seat."
MacArthur walked back towards his desk after Romulo was seated, but paused in front of a wall sized map of the South West Pacific. Picking up a pointer, the General used it to jab at the the mass of New Guinea, that dominated much of the maps surface.
"Gentlemen, this is where we must stop the Jap!", he spoke firmly facing the map, his back to the group seated in his office. Turning to the assembled men he continued,"I have spoken to the Australian Prime Minister, and he has given us approval to take over the defense of the Australia. This means we will control production, troop deployment, the intire war effort. As we speak Australian regular forces are either enroute back to Australia from the Middle East, or are completing their jungle fighting courses in the North of the country. I want all of you to understand their will be no withdrawl from Australia! If we lose to the Jap now, he will show us no mercy, and this country will be our graves. Therefore we must organize, and fight with our brains, not just our hands."
The General returned to his desk, and seated himself, reaching for his pipe. After lighting it, he looked at all present in the room. "You may leave gentlemen, dismissed."
Turning to Romula, and two young aides seated beside his desk he casually spoke only to them as the others left. "Carlos, I would like you to meet two of my most recent staff additions. Captains Dan Doyle and Pete Richards".
All three men exchanged handshakes. After the room emptied the general poured three glasses of whisky for the men, but took only water for himself.
The General addressed Capt. Doyle, "Dan I want you to get up to Port Moresby for me, and be my eyes and ears. Fly along the coast once you get to Brisbane, and let me know the situation on the ground along the way. When you get to Moresby, stay there until I tell you to return. You are thereunder my authority, but under no means interfer with command there. Just tell me what the situation is." The general seemed to think deeply for a moment, "I'll expect a full report by the first week of May."
Next he spoke to young Capt. Richards, "Pete you will also leave with Dan for Brisbane, but you are to continue on to New Caledonia, and act as my liason to Nimitz's command. This will be a tricky assignment, as tension between us and the Navy is quite intense right now. But I'm sure you can win Admiral Ghomley over. We are all in this together, after all."
The General smiled again, and dismissed the two young officers. Trust only the young, he thought to himself. They lack the ruthless ambition of so many of his older staff officers, and they are always eager to serve their General, even onto death. Even though both men had been recent additions to the Generals staff, both were like his sons, and enjoyed the generals favor.
Turning to Romula the genaral now softened when the young officers left the room. He spoke looking into the sickly mans eyes, "My Dear Carlos, now tell me how General Wainright really is, and how are my boys on the Rock."
Captians Pete Richards and Dan Doyle were seated in an MP's jeep on the hot tramac of Brisbane airfield. Both men were waiting for their respective transit planes to complete their flight checks, and fueling before they were to board on the first leg of their respective missions.
Nearby an American truck approached, coming to a stop one hundred feet from the jeep. The back tarp swung open and two men leaped out of the back onto the hot tarmac, followed by their bundles, thrown out by an unseen person in the back of the vehicle.
Both officers had seen plenty of journalist in their short time in Melbourne, enough to be able to recognize this lot a mile away.
"I guess our in flight guests have arrived Pete. Time to saddle up, and ship out."
Captain Richards turned to his friend, "Have a safe trip Danny, and don't forget to take your quinine in Moresby, I hear the place is full of Malaria. I'll see you in a few weeks."
Both men went their seperate ways, Capt. Doyle to a waiting Dakota that would eventually carry him all the way to Port Moresby, while Capt. Richards boarded a Navy PBY that would take him to New Caledonia. Already onboard each aircraft were one of the two journalists who went directly from the truck that dropped them off, to their respective planes, after shaking each others hand and exchanging laughs over some drunken incident that occurred the night before.
Once the PBY was in flight, Capt. Richards unbuckled the safety belt on his jump seat, and offered a cigarette to the journalist in the plane, the only other company in the body of the Navy's long range search plane.
"Hello, Capt. Pete Richards", he yelled over the roar of the planes engines. "Are you a reporter?"
"Yes, pleasure to meet you", the young man speaking equally loud said. "Vincent Ross, Life Magazine. I'm off to Noumea to cover the Navy beat for the next while, maybe a year, not sure. How about yourself Captain?"
"I'm just going up to Noumea as a Corps supply officer, to check out how the Navy's stores are holding out.", said Capt. Richards, obviously not fooling the writer.
"Excuse me sir, but isn't Noumea a little, well, a little Navy for an Army man like yourself?", yelled the reporter, already obviously working on perhaps his next story.
"I suppose so, but that's where the powers that may be have sent me. Supply work is pretty boring stuff, not as much fun as writing I'm sure", replied Capt. Richards, trying to change the subject.
"Excuse me Captain. It's gonna be a long flight.", asked Vince Ross, flask in hand. "How's about a drink?"
"Yeah, what the hell.", yelled the Captain. "I never really liked flying anyway."
The Navy PBY now gained altitude as it slipped past the last traces of the Australian coastline far below. If you had to fly for the better part of a day to an island in the South Pacific, might aswell be on a flying boat thought Capt. Richards as he took a pull from the newsmans flask full of Scotch.
As the Dakota prepared to depart Cooktown airfield, the journalist sleeping on several mailbags in the planes crammed interior awoke. Jim Knox scratched his head, and wished he had some water to slag this feverish thirst that had taken hold of him. The thirst of a hangover, that only water, sleep, and time can mend.
The army officer that had taken the flight with Knox from Brisbane was no longer onboard. Then again, Knox thought back, "I had fallen into such a deep sleep, almost as soon as the plane left Brisbane, the officer could have parachuted out of the plane and I would never have known". "All the better for him", Knox thought to himself again. "From the briefings I've recieved I don't think anyone of sound mind would want to go to Port Moresby right now. Talk about a sinking ship!"
Knox settled back into his mail bag bed, and was soon falling asleep again, as the plane bumped lightly on the thermals that always were part of flying in the tropics.
"Atleast I'll be on the ground in Moresby in a few days. Then I can get to work. Gotta get hooked up with the fighter jocks on base, they usually have the best booze and stories", all these thoughts past through Jim Knox's head as sleep slowly overcame him as the Dakota gained altitude.
Brisbane- April 28th (0800hrs)
Sydney Herald reporter Norman Kent passed through the last MP checkpoint at Brisbane Naval base and was dropped off by his escort at the Naval affairs press censors office near the Jettys of the base.
After waiting in a small room for 25 minutes he was ushered into the press censorship commanders office. "Have a seat Mr. Kent", the officer beckoned. Kent sat down in front of the desk. "Would you like a cigarette?", the officer held out a pack of American Luckies that had become a common site on the base since the 'Yanks' become involved in Australia.
"Sure", said Kent, taking a cigarette, and a light from the officer.
" Well, Mr. Kent", the officer opened a file on his desk. "You are here now to cover a story that you have been cleared to cover by your office and by the joint military command here in Australia. As of this moment, you will no longer be allowed to leave the base, and may I remind you that you have signed the Secrecy Act, so you can no longer pass on information until a press blackout has been lifted while you on your assignment."
Getting up from his desk, the officer moved to a wall map of the Coral sea, and New Guinea. Using a pointer, the officer indicated New Guinea on the Map. "As I'm sure you have noticed while entering the base today, something major is going on", the officer stood stiff and continued. " A transport task force is at this moment filling with supplies and troops bound for the Island of New Guinea. General MacArthur has now demanded that New Guinea be held at all costs, as a buffer between ourselves and the Japanese. You will be on that task force, and travelling with the lads on this most secret of missions. I'm not sure, but you should be shipping out within the week." Pacing across the room, the officer continued, "Now don't ask me where in New Guinea, because I don't know, but you will find out when you set sail. It's a full blackout as i'm sure you understand. From my understanding though, it could be to reinforce Port Moresby, or even perhaps to establish a new base by invasion. In any case, you will be in the thick of it very soon, as it is becoming obvious that something big is brewing, maybe even a Japanses attempt to invade Australia."
The officer looked at a seated, smiling Kent and asked, "Any questions Kent?"
" No, I think that covers it", Kent got to his feet, and shook the officers hand as if he had been given a raise. "Thank you sir, this is excellent news.", Kent turned and left the room.
After Kent had left the room, and the officer returned to his desk, lighting another cigarette, smiled a sardonic smile, and thought, "These bloody journalist, tell them they are going to battle, and it's the greatest news they've ever received! Well he can have it, I'll gladly stay here in Brisbane till the Japs come, then god knows what after that. To hell with this war!! I didn't join the military for this mess!"
Ed's notes: I do not know if the Sydney Herald exists, or ever existed. All papers or news organizations that correspondents work for in this AAR story may, or may not be real
Arrived this morning in Port Moresby at 0630 Hrs. and was glad to finally have my air travel come to an . Spending several days being shuttled on a Dakota transport aircraft is enough to test anyones nerves.
I quickly noticed that some engineers were working on what appeared to be small bomb craters on one of the runways taxi strips. While waiting for my gear to be unloaded, and for the jeep that would take me to the base XO, I struck up a conversation with some of these engineers working on repairs trying to get some scuttlebutt. They explained to me that 2-3 Jap Jakes, seaplanes that carry small bombs, came by last night on a blind dumping mission, and caused this damage. Not very accurate, but enough to keep eveyone nervous and on edge. They have not had any real large raids here yet.
After ten minutes my jeep arrived and took me to the NCO's mess hall on the base where I could get some morning chow, and coffee, before I would be given my billet and office here.
After finishing Chow, and relaxing with a cup of Joe while enjoying a smoke, it happened..... An Air Raid!! And it was coming fast. No sooner had the sirens began to wail, then one of the NCO's leaving the mess grabbed me by the shirt and hauled me into a large slit trench around the corner of a latrine.
Despite being told to keep my head down, I watched as best as I could manage at the sites and sounds going on around me. Men running to AAA sites, and manning machine guns. Luckily for us I was told, most of the base fighter squadrons begin to fly their first CAP missions at sunrise, and the lads had started todays CAP at sunrise just before my plane touched down.
Soon the drone of many aircraft began to fill the air, and my trench mate, a mess cook Sgt., pointed to the sky and said, "There they are!!" And there they were, I counted well over 60 Jap planes, at what I was told must have been at atleast 5,000 feet of altitude. An amazing site, especially when the CAP that the Sgt. told me about bounced the attackers from a much higher altitiude, seeming to come out of the high clouds. A furious furball developed in the sky, which consisted of 27 Allied fighters against this Jap horde. Planes twisted and turned, and many of the Jap bombers took a beating!! I personally witness 6 go down in flames, and crash in the direction of the sea before they were able to get close enough to the base to release their loads. Finally it became obvious that because of their numbers, and the Zero's that flew their escort, many of these bombers would get through. Which they did. And much to my horror, nothing prepared me for the bombing that took place. The ground shook as what seemed to 50 bombs pounded Port Moresby as the Japanese planes attacked. At one point I realized why it had been so important to dive in the trench. A bomb exploded only 200 yards from the latrine trench, and I could hear the hot shrapnel fly over us through the air. I kept my head down now!!
After 10 minutes, it was all over. The Jap planes had become only low drones in the distance. Less then 4 hours in Port Moresby, and a massive raid. What could happen next? I was told by my trench mate that this was the first raid of that size to hit them. "Does this mean the Japs might invade?", he asked. It seems these guys are a little in the dark for information up here, and perhaps thats for the best right now. I told him I knew less then he probabaly did.
A half an hour after the raid the first of the fighter planes flying their CAPS began to land. I had an MP take me out to where they were landing. The MP explained they were mostly planes from the USAF 36th Fighter Squadron. The pilots and their ground crews seemed to be celebrating something big as we approached. I found out later that one of the squadron, 2st Lt. G. Gholson downed 5 Jap bombers in the raid, making him an ACE in a day, and giving him 7 kills in total. I realized that the 36th FS would be the topic of my first story here, and I would try to interview Gholson in the coming days.
After returning to the main HQ block of huts to have my meeting with the base XO, my feelings of elation for the fighter pilots kills evaporated, when I saw the bodies of 12 men covered with ponchos waiting to be removed by graves registrations. These were men killed in the raid. "This game is for real, and the stakes are high", I thought to myself.
My daily briefing showed that the raid cost the Jap 14 planes destroyed, and 9 damaged according to the pilots gun cameras. The base suffered 2 hits to the Airbase facilities and 6 hits to the runway. Ofcourse as indicated above the loss of life was felt by all on the base. The first real casualties inflicted here by the enemy. People seem bent on revenge now. But how do you get it on an enemy that flies in at 5,000 feet, unless you are a fighter pilot? I guess it's just human nature to feel this way. I'm sure some of these guys here will be firing pistols at planes if they bomb us tomorrow.
As dusk falls about Moresby, a peaceful beauty settles in, as mist begins to shroud the great mass of the Owen Stanley mountains to the north. This was my first real chance to take in the surroundings on my first day, and it left me feeling in awe, and isolated. Very tired, time to sleep in my quarters. What a first day, the first major air raid on Port Moresby, and it happens the day I arrive.
The dive bomber climbed higher and higher as Vincent Ross thought to himself seated in the planes rear gunners seat, "Now this is flying!! Certainly beats the stuffy, humid interior of the that PBY to Noumea."
Ross had only been in Noumea less then 48 hours before he recieved his first major assignment for Life magazine in the South West Pacific. He was taken to an airstip, briefed, introduced to the pilot of the dive bomber he was now riding shot gun in, and off they went. They had been in the air now for close to 45 minutes, and they were over the most beautiful big blue ocean Ross had ever seen in his life. Even on the flight from Noumea the seas did not look this inviting. Perhaps it was the bright sunshine blasting down on the warm, inviting, shark infested waters. He had heard the stories of how beautiful the south seas were, but no discription did this sight justice. Especially from a small open plane like this.
"Quite a view, isin't it Sir", the Naval avaitor spoke through the intercom."I remember the first time I set eyes on it, it was my first cruise, in 39'. I'll never forget it".
"Nor will I", replied Ross. Obviously his boyish delight in the waters had been noticed by the pilot in the planes rearview mirror.
They were flying over the Coral sea, where they would meet a Carrier Task Force already at sea, consisting of the USS Lexington and the USS Yorktown, that would be the subject of Vince Ross's first story. All he had been able to find out before leaving was that the Navy had launched the task force as a show of strength in theatre; but also because it was now being whispered in high places that the Japanese may have a similar task force somehere in the South West Pacific to support a major landing somewhere. But where? Nobody seemed to know. It could be New Guinea, the Solomons, or even Australia itself. The feeling in the US Navy was the only thing that may prevent this from happening would be a strong carrier task force operating in the Coral Sea. Ready to react to any move by the enemy.
In any case, this was exactly what Ross wanted. If it resulted in a climactic battle, all the better then. Stories like this never happended in real life, not before the war. And guys like this Naval Aviator were totally different then any other military type Ross had covered in a story since the war broke out. These guys were confidence personified. It would be an honor, and one hell of a ride, covering this story. An experince never to be forgotten.
After another hour of flying, the pilots voice broke through on the intercom, "There they are sir!!". Below, thousands of feet down were the arching wakes of a Carrier Task Force pushing its way through the sea. "We are going to make our way around to an approach for a landing, I suggest you now go through the proceedure explained to you for landings", the pilot quickly said. He then added, "And just relax, if we crash, you'll probably never know what happened anyway as you will be looking backwards when we go in. Hold on, and relax, you'll be fine."
The plane came in for a smooth landing on the USS Lexington, and the plane stopped quickly once the tailhook found the deck cables to bring the plane to a complete halt. It all was over, and the deck crew climbed onto the plane to assist Vince Ross out of the craft. The pilot waved to Ross as he climbed out, and gave the reporter the standard "Thumbs Up" as he was quickly led off the flight deck, which Ross would soon be told is the most dangerous place to be on an operational carrier at sea.
The first thing that Ross now noticed onboard the 'Lex' was just how smoothly everything seemed to run. These guys were really the cream of the crop, the best of the best. The only thing that irked him was he new they had never been tested yet in battle, and when that battle came, even the best of morale and training, can be defeated by an experienced adversary. No time to think of this sort of thing he consoled himself. Too much work at hand.
I posted the last entry on a new thread by mistake, so here it is connected to the original story.
Thanks Condor for your support. The prelim part is mostly over now, so I will be using the game turn results more directly in the story. Can't wait, who knows what will happen to thse blokes, the game is just great, you can create a lot of atmosphere from a basic storyline, and combat reports. I have a system already designed so if a certain event result occur, and if x reporter/character is present, they could buy the farm, or get seriously hurt. Mooohahaha.:p
I can't wait til I send someone on a PT boat mission, or a sub patrol. Can anybody say Das Boot meets PT 109. Cheers. Shoop.
I tried to fiddle around with the narrative of an ASW destroyer crew aboard the Swanson, but it didn't go anywhere when the PBEM opponent was unable to continue the game. In the epic now vs. Quark, I'm concentrating on sharing what I call "Intentions" - now that we've promised not to look at each other's threads. I have a hard enough time putting down the facts and rationale suporting the moves I make - interweaving a storyline into them is a bit too much for me. Keep going
"Shouldn't we be leading the shark into shore...instead him leading us out to sea?"
Condor, shoop - interweaving the story was so what I found difficult. It can end up taking so much time to get you ideas out. I finish writing a move, with thoughts to future plans - reread then post, only to find I have forgotten something - I hate editing my posts so I have to try and remember what to do in teh next days narrative. This has been harder than I thought - but surprisingly rewarding.
