News and Stories from the Vilnius Union

[The Rock Doctor]

24-28 April, 1922

The stop at Wake didn't really save the Union squadron any substantial amount of time, but it did mean the individual ships have more oil in their bunkers and could maintain a fifteen knot cruising speed to the Hawaiian islands rather than the twelve originally planned.  On the flip side, it means the depot ships and their escort fall behind Szermierz and company once again.

A Parthian patrol vessel is sighted by once of Oriona's floatplanes and soon exchanged hails with Szermierz before turning to lead the squadron to Honalulu.  One of those great big Parthian lighthouses is visible at the entrance to Pearl Harbour, the Parthian naval base on the island, and another comes into view as the squadron approaches it final destination in Honalulu proper, a short distance east.

The city doesn't show much in the way of Parthian influence – a building here or there, some of the port infrastructure.  The rest of the city consists mainly of low-lying wood and stone structures, with occasional, larger stone edifaces that hint at a degree of status. 
Prince Gustav, Wiceadmiral Stastny, Komandor Jurgensen, and a few others come ashore on the evening of April 24th for a banquet hosted by the Hawaiian royal family.  The only actual Parthian present, the Satrap of Hawaii, is an elderly lady with silver-streaked hair and green eyes.  She doesn't speak much but certainly seems to be listening and observing the Hawaiians and their guests as they talk about Hawaii's political status, the short-lived Union annexation of Polynesia, and Pacific trade.

As usual, the Union hosts tours of Szermierz and Oriona, though the locals and Parthians alike are pretty chill about the ships given their own capabilities. 

Honalulu is a popular stop for the Union officers and men, all of whom are able to get at least one day pass to go ashore.  Apart from the usual efforts to shop, drink, and whore, there are luaus organized for the men, while others join guided tours of the city and its landscape.  A couple of officers arrange for a tour of the city's volcanic features, such as the prominent Diamond Head.  A few intrepid Union sailors even have a go at surfing, which hasn't ever been a thing in the chilly Baltic and North Sea.

Nobody drowns, although there are a few cases of heatstroke, two muggings, a couple of bar fights, and a jellyfish sting over the course of the visit.

On the 28th of April, the squadron sorties once more, heading east for the Ericas.

[The Rock Doctor]

From the personal journal of Komandor Nels Jurgensen, OZW Szermierz

4 May 1922

Twelve days between Honalulu and Acapulco is the longest single leg of the cruise.  Men holding up well, but XO reports homesickness not uncommon.

Continue to drill the crew as opportunities arise.  Ran a fire drill associated with naval aviation facilities despite not having naval aviation facilities.  Some creativity required there but am largely satisfied with results.

6 May 1922

Man lost overboard Malta this morning.  Circumstances not yet clear, weather not likely a factor. 

Malta and Moravska detached to search, will rejoin in the morning.

7 May 1922

Starszy Marynarz Piotr Janewski officially reported missing, presumed lost.  Malta reports Janewski was repairing a stanchion on starboard gunwale, may have slipped or lost balance and fallen over side.  Had been seen working several minutes prior to alarm sounding but accident itself not observed.  Unclear if proper protocols followed re buddy system, investigation to follow. 

Given relatively rapid response by Malta, speculation that Janewski struck head or was otherwise incapacitated by accident, hence unable to swim, signal, or call out.

Torpedo-boats have rejoined the squadron. 

8 May 1922

Met at sea by Aztec airship, itself intercepted by Oriona's aloft aircraft.  Conducted anti-aircraft drills and aerial bomb damage control drills in response.  Starszy Mat Unrug heard to comment that at least the airship was real this time; chose not to acknowledge comment.

9 May 1922

Intercepted by Aztec ship Sultan Ali I and escorts.  Good-looking ship.  Understand escort is not purely manners – some Aztec apprehension about possible Mayan hostility given recent events.

10 May 1922

Saluted by and responded in kind to Aztec warships at Acapulco, including second battlecruiser, both Baja-class frigates, many torpedo-boats.

Observed presence of additional Union forces elsewhere in harbour – light cruiser Yuma and four torpedo-boats.  Understand Yuma has mail from home to be distributed amongst squadron, expect also to receive debrief from CO regarding local security considerations.  Mayans may be more problematic than had thought.

Dropped anchor at Acapulco @ 1305 local time.  Turned helm over to XO, as there are many festivities to prepare for.  XO not unhappy to be staying aboard.

[TacCovert4]

10 May 1922

Commodore Acalan tugged at his collar uncomfortably.  Acapulco was quite a bit more humid this time of year than even Tenochtitlan, and most especially more humid than his well appointed if modest estate in the Caicos.  Post-war, he had found himself with the award of the small estate, a future place to retire when the Sultanate no longer needed his services.  He was regretting that he would miss fishing, as this month had originally been planned for his annual leave, his one opportunity to cease being the Chief of Staff for His Majesty's Seal Warriors and just be Acalan, family man and terrible fisherman. 

Out in the anchorage of the harbor roads, still steaming in, was the fleet of the Vilnius Navy.  Impressive in its own light, and especially for the journey they had embarked upon.  Indeed one that his own navy had sent ships in, but only their longest ranged and only singly or in pairs.  The logistics of managing such a fleet for the long journey would drive anyone to distraction. 

"Sergeant Major, is the festival all prepared?'  he asks as the first boats leave the pier to go assist in bringing in sailors and dignitaries.  "It is sir."  "Good, make sure your men know to keep the peace, I will not have any civilians interfering with our guests or pickpocketing them.  I'm certain they are all in need of a few days of relaxation and diversion after their time at sea"  "Aye sir" the sergeant major replied before stalking off to check on the million little things that would need to be perfect for this visit. 

At the quayside, the honor guard awaited the arrival of the Crown Prince, along with the other Wilno dignitaries, while at the other pier a long line of busses and army trucks stood by to ferry the Union's sailors to the large parade grounds where the festival had been set up, tamales and barbacoa along with games and entertainments having been provided by the Crown.

[The Rock Doctor]

11 May 1922

"Ulan...our Ulan, that is...was laid down in eighteen ninety-four in Stockholm," said the starszy bosman at the podium.  "Back then, she was one of the largest and most powerful ships in the navy.  Part of the twenty/twenty club - twenty centimetre guns and twenty knots top speed, a real force on the high seas."

Wiceadmiral Stastny's staff had put out the call for men who'd served on the old armored cruiser and subsequently volunteered this particular man to say a few words at this keel-laying ceremony for a new Aztec Uhlan.  Silently sweating to death under a broad, white pavilion, Prince Gustav reflected that at least the man didn't seem intimidated by his audience.

"I had a couple of tours aboard the old girl, first as a stoker in her bowels in ninety-eight.  She had a lot of coal down there, I tell you.  Twenty-four hundreds of Silesian gold, heavier than a protected cruiser of the time.  Shoveling it from the bunkers to the boilers was hard work, but it made me the man I am now, I suppose."

Gustav could very clearly visualize his wife willing the man to shut up, so just as well that she was back home, dodging newspaper questions about her health.

"And a while after that...nineteen oh nine, I suppose it was...I was back again to command one of the torpedo rooms," the starszy bosman continued.  "Soon afterward, we were sent off to take part in the big expansion.  Implementing the Loob Doctrine and all.  Initially we heard we were heading across the Atlantic to land on one of the islands where the Norse are now, but that was all a ruse and we ended up supporting the operation at Choco.  Interesting times.  Not a lot there at the time, compared to now."

Glancing to his left, Gustav observed that the Sultan was either quite enthralled by the rambling anecdote or particularly skilled at pretending to be.  Feigning interest in boring subjects was a necessary skill in politics, after all. 

"I was actually still aboard when Ulan carried our guys to Bermudez for the big peace conference between, ah, you folks and the Romans.  That was interesting.  We'd heard about the fighting, knew you guys were giving each other hell, excuse me, heck.  We weren't sure if it was going to escalate, but that didn't happen and I think that was probably a really good thing," the man droned on.

If Gustav recalled correctly, the starszy bosman and another dozen or so men who'd served on the ship at some point would be marching in a big military parade later.  He probably wouldn't be feeling quite as talkative after that, not that it would help out any now.

"Anyway, I was off in a torpedo-boat when Ulan got her last important job, rescuing those folks on the liner.  And you folks had a ship in the area, too, I heard.  Revenge.  I heard good things about her work from a couple of mates who were still on Ulan at the time.  Between them, they got almost everybody off a burning liner in the middle of the Atlantic.  And ironically, I guess, Ulan was heading back home to decommission and be broken up, and apparently the old man decided that he'd honor Revenge by gifting her with the lance she'd carried ever since Ulan was launched.  Fine idea, if you ask me, a good passing of the torch.  And now you're going a step further and laying down a razee with the same name.  Just a beautiful looking girl, from what I seen of the drawings and models.  So, uh, on behalf of the Navy of the Vilnius Union and all of us who served on the last Ulan, we wish smooth seas and safe sailing to the Aztec Navy and those who take the next Uhlan into service."

Gustav, the Sultan, and the crowd broke into applause, and the Aztec master of ceremonies stepped up to shake the starszy bosman's hand.  The Union sailor, for his part, was apparently more than happy to put his cap back on and return to his seat, where he was promptly handed a tin flask by one of his mates.  On the prince's right, Wiceadmiral Stastny grumbled under his breath at the breach of etiquette, but Gustav muttered, "I think maybe he earned that."

12 May 1922

Komandor Porucznik Urbe had never been airborne before, and he was fairly certain that he did not like it one bit.  Elsewhere in the crowded interior of the Aztec zeppelin, though, the Crown Prince seemed positively giddy – something Urbe had not witnessed since Gustav had come aboard at Bushehr.  Was he a secret aircraft enthusiast?  Would the military find itself ordered to introduce airships into service once the tour returned home?

He picked at his plate, slowly and delicately, not in a hurry to sample what would undoubtedly be quite delicious morsels in a more grounded setting. 

"You okay?" Komandor Jurgensen murmured in Swedish, holding a half-empty wine glass in one hand.

"A little uneasy, is all, Sir." Urbe replied. 

"It's an interesting perspective to have," Jurgensen mused.  "I didn't realize how much and how far you could see from up here."

"No, Sir," Urbe agreed.  "His Highness appears to be enjoying himself today."

They'd already spent a while watching...what were they called...Snake Warriors, conducting maneuvers in armored cars, and apparently tomorrow's demonstration would include cavalry.  Women cavalry.  "Indeed.  I think he can better relate," Jurgensen replied. 

"Do we have those kinds of machines in our own army?  I haven't paid attention to that sort of thing," Urbe noted.

"I don't know," Jurgensen said.  The Hero of Dakar – well, one of them – eyed his wine glass and finished off the contents.  "Be right back."

13 May 1922

It was odd to watch women in uniform, conducting gunnery and sword drills on horse.  It was just wasn't done back home, Gustav reflected.  Not a woman's job.  How very different the Aztecs were, allowing these women to risk their lives for their nation.  Was it a matter of religion?  Political culture?  It was well nigh impossible to imagine his wife putting rounds into a target with a bolt-action rifle.  His little sister...eh, maybe the sword work.  She was a little wild, that one, but her recent marriage was bound to bring her to heel. 

14 May 1922

"So we're off, and with more ships," Gustav noted, standing to Komandor Porucznik Urbe's right as the reinforced squadron began to fall into line and leave Acapulco behind.

"Yes, Your Highness," Urbe said.  "Komandor Porucznik Bobak – the commanding officer of the cruiser that joined us – advised that there was some concern about Mayan behaviour as a result of the Havana Strait incident last year.  Szermierz is certainly a match for any ship – probably any two ships – that the Mayans might field...if for some reason they wanted to do so...but a proper screen is a reasonable precaution.   They've got a lot of light torpedo craft."

"We've had...civil relations with them," Gustav said.  "They weren't happy with us showing up on the isthmus or in North Erica, but we've been polite and respected their claims elsewhere.  I wouldn't think they'd want to cause trouble with us when they've already got the Aztecs, Romans, and Japanese as enemies."

"I wouldn't think so, Sir," Urbe shrugged.  "I think at most we'll pick up a shadow and exchange polite greetings, and Yuma and company will just enjoy the cruise."

"At least they were able to deliver new mail from home," Gustav said, changing topics.  "Did you receive anything?"

"Two letters from my wife, and one from my father," Urbe nodded.  "A lot of family news, nothing major.  But it was really good just to see new words in their handwriting."

Gustav smiled.  "I received correspondence from my wife and both children.  Their penmanship is not well advanced, but I did appreciate it."

"Excellent.  I trust all are well?"

Gustav nodded.  "Absolutely.  It would seem my dear wife regained her health before even arriving at Amsterdam, but it was too late to rejoin the tour by then."

"Of course, Sir," Urbe said. 

"Are you looking forward to getting home yourself?"

Urbe smiled.  "With mixed feelings, Sir.  I certainly look forward to some time with my wife, and I have a wedding to attend to, but I'm not sure if I'll be in command of Warta after the tour.  I have a sneaking suspicion there might be a slot ashore for me somewhere.  Staff work."

"Staff work can be quite rewarding," said the Crown Prince who'd done some staff work of his own with his regimental headquarters.

"I think I'd rather be at sea, Sir," Urbe said.

"Here's a thought," Gustav said.  "They're finishing a new royal yacht later this year.  It could, I'm sure, use a captain with experience at sea, working with the navy, international affairs, and royal protocol.  There probably aren't many men who can tick all those boxes.  I could put in a good word for you, if you were interested."

Urbe swallowed.  "That's, er, very flattering, Your Highness.  Can I give that some consideration?"

"Of course, of course," Gustav said.  "No rush.  On to the canal now – I'm looking forward to seeing that again."

[The Rock Doctor]

On an out-of-character note, I recognize that Gustav comes across as a male chauvinist and reckon that's probably pretty normal for the Union's political elite in 1922.  From what I've seen of y'all's news, the Union is probably the least progressive of the player-nations in that respect.

[TacCovert4]

Well, OOC as well, the reason the Aztecs have women in uniform is one of necessity rather than design.  A 100 year on/off war with the Mayans, the not too distant war with Rome, the brushfire wars in colonizing, the need to have a large standing army and navy relative to the actual size of the nation, and the large and rapidly growing industrial capacity.....all conspire to make it somewhat impossible to do everything with just the supply of young men available. 

[Desertfox]

The Japanese especially the Army are exceedingly sexist; however, Azula, the headstrong daughter of the hero of Bulalacao Bay, now has significant sway and the Navy is far more progressive and willing to learn from others. Having fought side by side with the Aztecs, the Navy has copied the Aztec model and started its own women cavalry unit, lead by Azula. 

[The Rock Doctor]

16 May 1922

"Signal from Oriona, she's stopping to launch an aeroplane," a signalman reported.

"Very good, thank you," Komandor Jurgensen said. 

He hadn't kept tally of how many sorties Oriona had dispatched thus far.  Probably upward of three hundred since January, and with four airframes available (counting Warta's loaner), they might reach four hundred before arriving home.  Maybe more, if they were able to replenish their stocks at Nieupoort in a month.

"I have to admit, I'm liking having this capability," the XO noted.  "How do we get one for ourselves?"

"Maybe on the fantail," Jurgensen suggested.  "There's really no room anywhere else that I can think of.  A nuisance if we have to shoot dead astern, but..."

"I've read something about gunpowder catapults on turret roofs, Sir," the navigator spoke up.

"Really?  That seems a bit inconvenient," the XO said.

The navigator shrugged.  "Wasn't endorsing it, Sir.  Just saying."


*****


To be exact, it was the two hundred and seventy-eighth flight of the World Cruise, and the sixty-third for Flight Lieutenant Bonde, and it was still just as exciting to rev up the engine and bounce across the waves as the first time.

Well, almost.  But the sun was up, the winds were light from the west.  Skies were maybe twenty percent cloudy.  They might get a look at some coastline and a few ships, not just open Pacific waters.  It was a good day for flying.

As the OM-7 climbed up and to the east, he found himself wondering what would come after the cruise.  A staff appointment of some sort, doing a lessons-learned exercise?  A deployment to one of those dreadful little riverine tenders?  In theory, there'd be a few more aeroplanes deploying here and there amongst the fleet even before that new aircraft carrier came along.  Maybe score the position on Czarownik?

He levelled out at two thousand metres, then adjust their heading more to the northeast.  The plan was to fly out about twenty miles perpendicular to the squadron's course, then turn southeast and head out past the squadron before cutting southwest and returning.  Half an hour to an hour in the air, see what was within thirty kilometers or so, back on Oriona in time for lunch.


*****


"Sir, signal from Oriona – her aircraft is reporting several unidentified warships to the east."

It didn't take a doctorate to guess whose ships these might be.  "Advise Oriona that more information – and more specificity – is required with urgency," Komandor Jurgenson replied.  "XO, take the chair.  I'm going to Flag Country to confer with the admiral."

"Sir."

Szermierz's flag facilities took of most of the superstructure one level down, so it was doubtful that the signal had been transmitted back to Oriona before Jurgensen was relaying its contents to Wiceadmiral Stastny.  "Not wholly surprising that the Mayans would come out, but as you said, we're going to need more than just a report of ships and a direction," the squadron commander said. 

"Let's hold off on going to general quarters for the moment, but I might want to adjust our formation..."

He stepped over to the chart table with Jurgensen and his flag lieutenant flanking him.  In addition to the regional chart showing their route along the wester coast of the Ericas, a more detailed chart simply noted the squadron's disposition across several square kilometres of ocean.  To port, Yuma and her four torpedo-boats steamed in a long column to screen the actual cruise squadron.  The middle column was Malta, leading Szermierz and Warta.  To starboard, Moravska led the two depot ships, with Oriona at the tail end of that column so that she could break away to launch and recover aircraft without disrupting the larger formation.  "We'll leave the screen alone," Stastny murmured, stroking his freshly-shaven chin.  "We'll adjust the centre column.  Szermierz will lead, Warta in the middle, Malta to trail by three miles as rearguard.  The auxiliaries can maintain station buy I want Moravska ranging ahead three miles.  Gives us a bit."

"I'll oversee the signals, Sir," the flag-lieutenant replied.

"Let the squadron know we have possible Mayans inbound but that we are not going to quarters at this time," Stastny added.

"Sir."

Stastny looked to Jurgensen.  "My inclination is to have another plane aloft to scout to the south and west, in case there are other Mayans on other bearings."

"I'd agree in principle, Sir, but perhaps it would be prudent to wait until we have more information about the existing group.  We won't want to launch the plane too early or too late."

Stastny nodded.  "I sincerely hope that the Mayans aren't going to be stupid about this, but after the Havana Straits business we have to assume this will escalate.  If it does, protection of Warta is paramount, even at the expense of Szermierz."

"Of course, Sir," Jurgensen said. 

"But you understand that," Stastny added.  "Not your first time screening soft targets from a possible aggressor."

"No, Sir, it isn't," Jurgensen agreed.


*****


"What are they doing?" Crown Prince Gustav queried.

"We're...not certain, Your Highness," Komandor Porucznik Urbe replied as the torpedo-boat Malta passed rearward with a bone in her teeth.  "It could be a simple matter of waving their flag, it could be something more aggressive.  Attempting to predict..."

"I mean in a tactical sense.  Where are they, where are they going, that sort of thing."

"Ah.  The last report is a capital ship, three cruisers, and ten light craft.  Torpedo-boats or similar.  They're steaming west-southwest, so they'll converge with our course if they don't turn around," Urbe said.

"There's more of them than us," the prince noted.

"Yes, Sir."

"But not the three-to-one advantage one typically needs to overcome a strong defensive position," the heir added.

Urbe glanced at his XO, who pointedly said nothing.  "That may be true ashore, sir.  It does not, uh, necessarily apply at sea."


*****


"Ring for half ahead," Oriona's captain ordered as she resumed station-keeping in the northwestern corner of the Union formation. 

"Half ahead, aye."

The carrier now had two aircraft aloft.  The original OM-7 was about twenty miles to the east, observing the Mayan squadron.  The second plane was climbing away to the south to look for other Mayans that might not have been noticed yet.

"I'm glad we've got Malta back here now," the XO observed.

"Yeah, we're not exactly fitted for anti-torpedo work," the captain said.  Oriona had a single 10cm gun forward, under her flying-off deck where the firing arc forward and astern was heavily restricted. 

"Maybe we can petition for more guns when we get home, Sir," the helmsman suggested.

"Not sure where they'd go, but I agree with the sentiment," the captain said.  "Just because we're not interested in fighting other ships doesn't mean they're not interested in fighting us."


*****


"Signal to the Mayans," Wiceadmiral Stastny called out.  "Identify us as a Vilnius Unions squadron with royalty aboard.  Request that they not approach closer than ten kilometres of our screen.  Transmit in Mayan, Polish, and Latin."

"Sir."

His own aviators had been unclear on the precise identity of the Mayan capital ship, but Yuma had classified her as a Salvador class battleship – their latest – based on the appearance of her fighting tops.  Though inferior to Szermierz in all respects, she'd still be a tough nut to crack if things got ugly, and she'd completely outclass the rest of the squadron if something happened to the Union cruiser.

"Polish signal transmitted," the flag lieutenant reported.  "Latin in progress.  It'll take a moment to compose the Mayan version."

"Understood," Statsny said.  "Komandor, I think it's time to ring for general quarters."


*****


"They did warn us about this," Komandor Porucznik Bobak shrugged, watching the distant form of the Mayan dreadnought through his binoculars.  Yuma was fully closed up now, all boilers hot, shell handlers poised to send the first shells up the hoists to her ten 13cm guns at a moment's notice.

"Now estimating range to be eleven kilometers and closing, Sir."

"Transmit the same to the flagship," Bobak said.


*****


Once again, in Polish, then Latin, then Mayan...

,,Okręty Majów, to eskadra Związku Wileńskiego z członkami rodziny królewskiej na pokładzie. Działamy na wodach międzynarodowych z pokojowymi intencjami. Nie zbliżaj się na odległość dziesięciu kilometrów. Proszę o potwierdzenie."

"Naves Mayan, haec est turma Unionis Vilnensis cum regiis navibus. In aquis internationalibus pacatis intentionibus operamur. Noli accedere intra decem chiliometra. Obsecro te confiteri."

"Mayan ships, this is a Vilnius Union squadron with royalty aboard.  We are operating in international waters with peaceful intentions.  Do not approach within ten kilometres.  Please acknowledge."


*****


"Load guns," Komandor Porucznik Urbe called out.

"Load guns, aye, sir."

"Surprised it's, uh, coming to this," Gustav remarked. 

"We're not shooting just yet," Urbe said.  "But having said that, Your Highness, might I humbly recommend you join my executive officer in the ship's conning tower?  You'll be safer there."

Gustav froze for a moment.

"Your Highness?" the XO said.  "It's right this way."

"Uh...no, thank you," Gustav said.

"With respect, Your Highness, I'd be much more comfortable with some armor between you and the Mayans," Urbe added.

"I, uh, understand that, Komandor," Gustav said, slowly and deliberately, as if fighting to get the words out.  "But I'd prefer to stay here...and watch from here...if that's okay."

Urbe swallowed.  "Of course, Your Highness.  Of course."

Five hundred metres ahead, smoke billowed and water churned as Szermierz fired a single 35cm shell in the direction of the Mayan squadron.


*****


"Mayan squadron is maintaining speed and heading," the officer of the watch shouted, perhaps unnecessarily, but he'd been on the port wing of Szermierz's bridge when the warning shot had been fired and it was a pretty loud blast.

"Komandor Jurgensen, one broadside," Wiceadmiral Stastny said, his voice flat.

"Gunnery, bridge, one salvo on target," Jurgensen said.

"One salvo on target.  Firing."

Nine guns fired five and a half tonnes of shells downrange.  The salvo hammered at Jurgensen's chest and ears; windows rattled, coffee mugs shook.

He put his binoculars to his eyes.  "Reload.  Continue tracking the target."

"Reloading, aye."

Nine white geysers erupted just ahead and just short of the Mayan battleship, not so far from one of its escorting cruisers.

"Mayan battleship is maintaining-" the officer of the watch started.  "Correction, Sir, Mayan battleship is turning to port."

"Hold fire," Stastny said.

"Aye, Admiral."

"The Mayan cruisers are turning to port as well.  Looks like the light craft also," the officer of the watch added.

"So they don't understand Polish, Latin, or even Mayan, but they do understand Krupp," the navigator said, eliciting a bit of nervous laughter.

"XO, record that remark in the ship's log, if you would," Jurgensen said.

"Certainly, sir."

Jurgensen looked to Stastny.  "Admiral, your orders?"

"Maintain course and aim, but hold fire," the admiral replied.  "If they want to run parallel to us, we'll tolerate it.  If they want to open up the range a bit, even better."

"Aye, Sir."

"Sir?  One of the Mayan torpedo-boats is still approaching," the officer of the watch barked.

"She's accelerating hard," the seaman next to him added, binoculars pointing east to the swelling column of black coal smoke. 

Stastny growled under his breath.

"Estimated range to that torpedo-boat is twelve thousand meters and dropping," the fire control officer reported.

"Signal to Yuma to take that ship – and only that ship – under fire until she is no longer a threat," Stastny said through gritted teeth.


*****


"Range eight thousand, one hundred meters," said the gunnery officer aboard the torpedo-boat Lakken. 

"Signal from Yuma:  We're to engage the Mayan torpedo-boat only if it closes within five thousand meters."

"They want to take all the glory," the torpedo-boat's navigator muttered as the light cruiser's guns trained out to port and elevated.

"More likely they don't want our splashes interfering with their own fire control," the gunnery officer retorted.

"Sure they don't.  I'm sticking with my interpretation."

Yuma's forward and amidships guns fired.  Four seconds later, her two aft mounts fired.


*****


"The other Mayans are maintaining their course and heading," Yuma's officer of the watch reported.

"The torpedo-boat's returning fire!"

Another cluster of splashes erupted around the Mayan ship as Yuma's sixth half-salvo arrived close.  A moment later, two ragged splashes appeared short and slightly ahead of the cruiser.

"Are the other Mayans shooting?" Bobak demanded.

"No, Sir."

"Maintain-"

Three splashes rose above the Mayan along with a flash and billow of smoke.  "Hit on target." 

"Maintain fire."

Two fountains of water burst from the Pacific, closer to Yuma.  "Do you want to adjust our course, Sir?" the navigator asked.

"Maintain speed and heading," Bobak said.  "Gunnery, maintain fire."

The eighth half-salvo produced no hits, but the ninth yielded a bright orange flash and more smoke.

"You have to respect their guts, coming at us like that," Yuma's XO said over the crack of the Skoda 13cm cannons.

"Not really," Bobak said.  "I think this is stupid.  I don't know whose idea that is, or what the goal is, but there's only one way this ends.  Maintain fire."


*****


"The Mayan squadron is opening the range," the officer of the watch reported.

"Signal from Yuma, Sir:  The Mayan torpedo-boat has lost way and is on fire but its colors remain aloft.  They are continuing to engage."

"Understood," Wiceadmiral Stastny replied.

"Signal from Oriona:  One of their aircraft is running low on fuel.  She's requesting permission to drop out of formation to recover it."

Stastny pursed his lips.  "Permission denied.  I don't want Oriona stopping while the Mayans are this close.  Order the aircraft to land ahead of Moravska.  Moravska is to retrieve the crew and sink the aircraft.   Get me an estimate of how long the other aircraft has before I have to make a call for that one as well."

"Aye, Admiral."

"This naval aviation thing needs some refinement," Stastny sighed.

"It does," Jurgensen nodded.

"Signal from Yuma:  The Mayan vessel is floundering and Yuma has ceased firing."

"Very good," the admiral said.  "Maintain speed and course.  Maintain target tracking.  Maintain general quarters.  The day's far from done."

[The Rock Doctor]

17 May 1922

Dawn finds the Union squadron alone, with no trace of the Mayan squadron to be seen. 

Oriona's first aerial patrol confirms a distinctly pleasant lack of Mayans with the search area, then investigates a possible airship to the north.  This proves to be an Aztec zeppelin, and below it is an Aztec battle squadron, quietly trailing the Union squadron about twenty miles back.  The OM-7 waggles its wings a couple of times and resumes its normal patrol.

Soon after, wireless operators aboard Szermierz transmit, in Aztec, "Mind the locals stop they were unneighbourly yesterday stop."

Later in the day, a much longer, coded message is keyed out for the benefit of the Union's shore station in the canal zone. 

18 May 1922

The Union squadron is greeted by a sizeable mob of motor torpedo-boats as mountains of the Bannaba Isthmus appear on the horizon.  Union Army fighters and observation aircraft orbit overhead as the squadron arrives and takes up its position in the queue off Bannaba City to use the canal.

19-22 May 1922

A tersely worded diplomatic message is delivered to the People's Republic of Maya by the Government of the Vilnius Union, protesting inappropriate behaviour by the People's Navy on the sixteenth.

The World Cruise squadron clears the canal, entering the Caribbean at Loobow.  They're joined there by the battleship Dziki and another two light cruisers and five torpedo-boats, who accompany the squadron northeast to the friendly island of Boriken.  A Mayan patrol cruiser is briefly observed to the northwest and is aggressively but non-violently chased off by the light cruiser Havel and two torpedo-boats.

23 May 1922

"I understand there were no casualties aboard the squadron," Admiral Floty Lohk said as Wiceadmiral Stastny and Wiceadmiral Rahm (commanding the depleted 5th Battle Squadron) made themselves comfortable in Lohk's Johannestadt office. 

"Correct, Sir.  Only Yuma came under fire, and she took no hits or close misses," Stastny confirmed, eyeballing the glass a steward had set down before him.

"Pitorro.  It's good.  Try it," Lohk suggested.

"As you order, Sir," Stastny replied, delicately sampling the drink.  "No, this rum appears to be defective."

"It's anise-flavored," Lohk said.

"With respect, Sir, that is simply wrong," Stastny grimaced.  "So, uh, are we anticipating any consequences as a result of the 16th?"

Lohk shrugged.  "Last I heard, there'd been no response from the People's Republic, nor was one necessarily expected.  Given that their squadron buggered off rather than push the issue, it's possible they won't be causing any further trouble.  A lost torpedo-boat, dead crewmen, the diplomatic note, and an indefinite suspension of their canal access may have gotten the point across.  I don't anticipate the government is going to enact any form of retaliation beyond that.  Nonetheless, the Fifth and its screen will accompany your squadron to Veracruz – we're in the process of notifying the Aztecs and Romans, not that I expect they'll mind the extra ships."

"Probably send out some of their own, in fact," Rahm mused.

"Perhaps," Stastny said.  "You're senior to me – I assume that puts you in charge at least temporarily?"

Lohk nodded.  "Sorry, it does – but once you're round the tip of Sforzaterra, Rahm's peeling off and you're on your own again."
"That's fine, just clarifying.  Now, any objections to my sending the depot ships on to Nieupoort directly, rather than bringing them past Mayan waters twice while I visit Veracruz and Saint Rochelle?" Stastny asked.

"Not at all.  I'll arrange for an escort.  One of Scouting Four's cruisers, perhaps.  Not enough sloops here just yet," Lohk said.  "Out of curiosity, and just between the three of us:  How did His Highness fare in the excitement?"

"I understand Warta's captain tried to direct him into the conning tower but that His Highness declined to leave the bridge," Stastny said.  "I'd guess Mister Urbe was more afraid of losing the prince than himself or his ship, perhaps."

Rahm chuckled.  "Fair."

"Well, good for His Highness," Lohk said with the faintest hint of a grin.  "I'm pleased to hear it."

27 May 1922

A battleship, an armored cruiser, four light cruisers, eleven torpedo-boats and a seaplane carrier depart Johannestadt, steaming west with the intention of ducking around the south coast of Hispaniola and then Tamara Insula on the way to the Aztec port of Veracruz.



Spoiler:  No further hijinks with the Mayans are anticipated.

[The Rock Doctor]

27 May 1922 - 4 June 1922

The reinforced Union squadron departs Johannestadt under cloudy skies. 

Oriona's seaplane group has been topped back up to four, along with more spare parts.  Yuma's magazines have been returned to full capacity, and Szermierz and Warta have landed some training rounds and replaced shells expended in salutes and demonstrations in order to have 100% warshots aboard.

The squadron sails along the north shore of Boriken, then slips south through the Strait of Mona Channel and continue westward between Tamara Insula and not-Jamaica, greeting Roman and Parthian forces with proper, polite signalling.  The squadron turns to the northwest and moves to a higher alert status as it draws closer to the Yucutan Peninsula.  Mayan scouting vessels are seen on a couple of occasions and treated with what might be called aggressive caution, being kept well away from the capital ships by the screen.

Rounding the peninsula, the squadron locates and and is located by a large Aztec force including the capital ships Implacable, Indomitable, Magnificent, Monarch along with a sizeable force of corvettes and destroyers.  Once the two forces have combined into a generally coherent formation, it cruises along the Yucutan coast, in international waters but in plain view of landbound observers, in what Wiceadmiral Rahm describes as, "trolling".  Although Mayan recce assets are spotted on the horizon and in the air, no challenges are presented to the Aztec/Union formation.

The squadron's arrival in Veracruz is relatively low-key; as an Aztec official notes, the big "floof" was the earlier event in Acapulco.  Veracruz itself is much more of a sailor's town than Acapulco, anyway, with a lengthy history of naval construction and trade with Europe resulting in more liberal local views about alcohol.  A handful of Union sailors have to be collected from the city's jail, hospital, and other venues as a result of various misadventures.

Aboard HMS Monarch, Aztec and Union officers exchange notes on their recent encounters with Mayan warships and implications for relations with the People's Republic.  This includes a debrief by the Union on its current engagement protocols, which call for escalating from one warning shot to a warning salvo and then full broadsides when Mayan forces don't promptly respond - a procedure which the Union have come to call "The Krupp Ahoy".  Speaking somewhat informally (though certainly not "off the record"), the Union officers note that their government has taken a generally passive approach to the Mayans in the past and will likely do so again, with the suspension of Mayan access to the canal likely to be a short-lived slap on the wrist.  Wiceadmiral Rahm also notes that his superior has been asking for additional capital units since last year's Havana Strait incident, to no avail.

In fact, Dziki, currently anchored off Veracruz, is the only Union battleship in the western hemisphere right now, as her sister Nieugiety is back in Europe for a refurbishment.

For his part, the Crown Prince has a generally relaxing visit ashore with local dignitaries.  He's amused that the Aztecs sometimes have ship names with a common letter (as is practice with Union torpedo-boats) and is flattered at the size of the naval force dispatched by the Sultan to see him safely deposited ashore in Veracruz.  He also finds the local variations on chocolate beverages to be intriguing and wonders if spiced hot chocolate would catch on back home...


OOC:  Barring late input fron snip, the visit to Novus Francia will be described in brief, high-level terms only...

[The Rock Doctor]

5 - 8 June 1922

The Union Squadron's visit to Novus Francia consists of a two-night stop over in the bustling port city of Saint Rochelle.  The Romans have not had a great deal of time to prepare for a squadron much larger than originally planned, but manage to make do.

Prince Gustav is received ashore by local dignitaries and given a tour of one of the refineries dotting the area.  The Romans, in turn, receive the same opportunity to do a deck tour of Szermierz.

Wiceadmiral Stastny takes advantage of his brief relief from command to catch up with the reams of paperwork associated with May's shooting incident.

8 - 12 June, 1922

The squadron departs on an east-southeasterly heading, exiting the Gulf between Tamara Insula and Sforzaterra.  As Roman scouts observe from a distance, the squadron splits once more.  Szermierz, Warta, Oriona, Malta and Moravska turn northeast and round the swampy peninsula, while Wiceadmiral Rahm takes Dziki and its escorts southeast back to Boriken.

13 - 17 June, 1922

The Tour's visit to Niuepoort - major port and administrative centre of Zwiazek Erica  Polnocnej - is largely uneventful.  The locals are not unfamiliar with their own navy's warships, although something the size of Szermierz is still a novelty to ardent naval observers.  She ties up at the next pier over from the monitor Szczyt, which of course first tested the 350mm guns installed on the armored cruiser.

Prince Gustav is received ashore by ZEP's governor, spending the entire visit ashore while variously dining, dancing, golfing, and riding with locally important people.  The local press attempts to stir up a bit of controversy by suggesting that the prince might be seeking the attention of a mistress while separated from his wife, but most members of high society flatly reject the notion as ludicrous.

Union sailors are more inclined to seek out female company and more likely to find it, leading to the usual minor incidents ashore and, again, on Moravska as a lady of the night is successfully smuggled aboard and not actually found out until after she has been successfully smuggled back off again the next morning.

[The Rock Doctor]

19-21 June 1922

Szermierz and company continue northeast, joining up with the Confederation of Five Nations battlecruiser Nyakwai' and her escorts.  The Confederation warship is a peer to the Union's own Lucznik class, but less than half the displacement of Szermierz.  The cruisers and torpedo-boats are likewise smaller and slower than the Union's equivalents, though reasonably capable in general.

Zwiateck Erica Polnocnej's northern neighbour is one of two surviving, independent, indigenous states in North Erica (the Aztecs obviously being the other) and have watched perhaps with a fair degree of anxiety as the Northern Kingdom and the Vilnius Union have gradually over-run its immediate neighbours and expanded far inland.  While the Confederation has fought a few skirmishes with Northern expeditionary forces around the western great lakes, the relationship with the Union has been non-violent.  Deals have even been made in the past regarding territorial rights as the Confederation undertook its own scramble to claim lands around the lakes.

The squadrons steam to the Confederation's major port at Mashauwomuk (OTL Boston) for a short visit.  A good natural harbour, the city has a busy industrial sector that includes both export terminals and shipyards, as well as a naval base.  However, the Union squadron is directed to tie up at civilian piers elsewhere, perhaps for domestic security reasons.

The two navies host each other for tours aboard their respective flagships.  The Union personnel take away that the Confederation's officers and men are competent and capable but hindered by their navy's limited resources and lagging technological progress.  The Confederation doesn't share what they think of Szermierz, but the impression is that they're fairly impressed by her size.

Prince Gustav and Wiceadmiral Statsny are received ashore by a large contingent of (male) sachems and (female) clan mothers, representing the Mohawk, Onondaga, Oneida, Cayuga, and Seneca tribes, along with a few senior civilian and military officials.  A great feast is held in the ceremonial longhouse of the local Muswachasut people (themselves long absorbed into the Mohawks), accompanied by local dancing and singing. 

Conversation touches on international politics, of course - the Confederation is interested in the prince's views of the Northern Kingdom, which are carefully considered, and of the Mayans, which are a bit more candid.  An earlier Union proposal to keep the great lakes demilitarized comes up, though formal progress there depends on what the Norse choose to do.  A couple of sachems raise the topic of canal construction and it seems that the Confederation has been thinking about opportunities to connect the great lakes to the Atlantic.

[The Rock Doctor]

From the personal journal of Komandor Nels Jurgensen, OZW Szermierz

22 June 1922

On the home stretch now. 

Depot ships have been detached and are making their own way back to Europe whjle we continue on to visit the Berbers.  Sense that the crew would rather we skipped them and went home as well.

24 June 1922

Quick layover at Bermudez, mainly to let torpedo-boats top up bunkers. 

Usual meetings with local officials are pending.

25 June 1922

Surprised to learn of push to build railway across the island.  Idea is to draw tourists (from where?  ZEP?) transport locals and move freight.  Doesn't sound particularly economical to me but not my field either.  Would think a decent road, trucks, and buses would more than suffice.

26 June 1922

Underway for United Berber States.  Only a matter of time before CO of Moravska reports something amiss.

3 July 1922

Met at sea by a Berber "battleship".  More like a gunboat or third-rate cruiser, really.  Exchanged greetings and followed into Nouadhibou.  Will anchor offshore due to sketchy bathymetry – Warta and Malta can do honors this time.
Nicely sheltered bay but bone dry land.  Would be problem for naval base, probably so for civilians.

4 July 1922

Meet and greet with provincial governor and court.  Some conversation about borders to the south with Orimirilandia, Iberia, Parthia, and Ethiopia, though understand that has mostly been sorted out by now. 

Prince Gustav gifted with what governor says is a meteorite; supposedly, these are easily found on the surface of the Sahara and brought in by nomads for sale.  The things you learn.

Small town but lengthy tour...on camel-back.  Harbour itself shows some signs of investment – is apparently an important fishing hub.  Second cruiser arrived, noted a few guns in fortified positions ashore.  Rest of town a sprawl of mud brick housing.  Looks pretty poor.

5 July 1922

Deck tour of Szermierz.  A bit spontaneous – tours of Warta and Malta whetted appetites, perhaps.  Some optimistic chat amongst locals about acquiring a ship like Szermierz.  Very optimistic.  Incredibly so, really.

Departed Nouadhibou 1814, bound for Azorez and then home.

[The Rock Doctor]

18 July 1922:  Amsterdam

After all the pomp was over and the official "Welcome Home" ceremony had settled into a big catered gab-fest, Princess Christine pulled her husband aside for a quick peck on the lips.  "I missed you."

Gustav almost blushed at the semi-public display of affection.  "And I, you.  And the children...who you did not bring?"

"I left them with the nanny in Wilno," Christine said.  "I wanted a few days alone with you before I had to share."

"I'm flattered, although I think we could have made something work out," Gustav said.  "How have things been?"

"Oh, much the same as normal.  The papers did go into a bit of a tizzy about the possibility that I was with child.  I had that line of speculation shut down after a few weeks but I did rather enjoy the attention while it lasted."

"Did you...did you want another child?"

"Heavens, no, two's quite enough as it is," Christine said.  "How was your time at sea?  I heard you got to be in a battle, my valiant prince!"

"Well, yes, there was a bit of shooting, but nothing directed my way," Gustav shrugged.  "The navy chased the Mayans away, other than the one boatload of lunatics, and they were dealt with quickly enough."

"Still, I can scarcely imagine what it would have been like, let alone how the children would have felt," Christine shuddered.  "Just as well that we came home rather than take that risk."

"Just as well," Gustav nodded.


*****


From the personal journal of Komandor Nels Jurgensen, OZW Szermierz

Dropped anchor at Amsterdam 0933.  Warm, humid weather but nice breeze off North Sea.

Morning occupied by protocol and ceremony.  Prime Minister, Prince, Defence Minister, Grand Admiral spoke about Union's status as major power, ability to project power globally - think that was more than a little overstated, but so be it. 

Overall pleased with ship's performance, other than iffy turbine.  Have recommended that it be examined in drydock but have not yet received a response yet.  Will be rejoining Scouting 1 at Siebethsberg shortly.  Looking forward to leave and time with the family - understand that I am to be a grandfather in the next few weeks.


*****


Ashore, in the offices of the Navy's Amsterdam base, Grand Admiral Zahle handed a goblet of champagne to Wiceadmiral Statsny.  "Cheers, and welcome home."

Statsny accepted the goblet and tipped it against Zahle's with a sharp ping.  "Thank you, Sir.  It is a relief to finally be back."

"It was quite the haul.  We've never done anything like it."

"Half a year, no, I wouldn't think so," Statsny said, then drank.  "I notice we didn't get turned around to go to war with the Mayans.  What's the latest on that front?"

Zahle shrugged.  "The government's taking their usual line with them.  Canal access is still suspended, diplomats were withdrawn.  But no war warning.  The governor of Zwiazek Karaiby has sent enough shrill cables and letters that the government's agreed to deploy another battle squadron and supporting vessels...but it's the 6th and not a squadron of Angstroms."

"Wrogi and Zwinny are still better than anything the Mayans can field," Statsny replied.  "It'll be four battleships on station."

"Three, realistically, since Nieugiety's refurbing all year and Dziki's coming back for the same next year," Zahle said.  "But we can certainly surge the Angstroms and the big cruisers much more easily than we can the old 30cm ships if we really need to."

"True," Statsny agreed.

"Any initial impressions you wanted to share?  Or is it too soon to talk shop?"

The wiceadmiral pursed his lips.  "I'm drafting a report, but sure, let me see...

"I like the airplanes.  They're useful for scouting when the weather's good.  But we're going to have to give more thought about recovering the airplanes and ensuring that their carriers can operate with fleet units.  I get why Oriona was built like she was, but she's just too slow for actual combat utility.  And she has to stop to recover floatplanes.  And she's practically defenceless.  There was a distinct chance she was going to have to fight Mayan torpedo-boats and that wouldn't have gone well if she did.

"I like the sloop.  Bloody useful ship, riding herd on the depot ships and then accompanying Bug home.  We should be looking at more of them to shepherd our auxiliaries and defend trade."

"We've got a dozen," Zahle noted.  "Or will, when it's all said and done."

"Another dozen probably wouldn't be a bad thing," Statsny said.  "We need better depot ships, oilers, and what-not if we're serious about projecting outside the Atlantic.  What we have might've worked a decade ago, but like everything else, we need bigger, faster, and better.  I was really hobbled by being chained to a pair of depot ships belching coal at twelve knots max.  That won't work if we're looking at high-speed runs around the British isles in wartime."

"Yeah, I've had that thought.  The current batch of oilers are...less slow, but I haven't got support for actual fast oilers yet.  Make sure it's a point of your report and I can build on that," Zahle commented.

"Absolutely.  What else...I would've liked more escorts, but don't I always.  The ships we had, performed well, although there were repeated disciplinary issues on Moravska and I'm going to recommend her command staff be re-assigned to other duties.  Yuma did a sterling job on screen and I appreciated her captain's bloody-mindedness under the circumstances.  Warta did well with the prince riding along.  I've heard rumors that the prince wants to cherry-pick her captain to take over the new yacht."

"Does he want to be cherry-picked?"

"That I don't know," Statsny chuckled.  "It's a double-edged sword and I'm sure Komandor Porucznik Urbe understands that.  I'm going to try to find a bit of time to meet with each of the commanding officers over the next few days and that'll be a topic to raise with him.  If he's interested, I'll endorse it.  If he's gun-shy, I'll run interference for him."


*****


"Finally," Marynarz Pilsudski remarked, slapping Marynarz Nilsson on the back.  "Three days leave.  That's two and a half days to get completely shit-faced."

"It's good to be home," Nilsson remarked. 


*****


"That would be...that would be quite the feather in your cap," Ruta Urbe said as she picked at her haddock in a booth in one of Amsterdam's many mid-grade dining rooms.

"It would, but I'm not sure if I have the temperament to put up with that sort of situation indefinitely," Komandor Porucznik Urbe murmured, slicing apart a pork chop.

"You managed four months without a break, dear," Ruta said.  "How often could they possibly be aboard normally?  Once a year for a few weeks?"

"I have no idea.  They've never had the opportunity before," Urbe shrugged.  "He was...okay.  I'm not sure about her.  Thinking I might want to talk with...my colleague on Bug about that."

"If you think it's wise, sure," Ruta nodded.  "But I think you could write your own ticket if you play this right."

"What, like, set conditions?"

"Precisely.  You take a turn, and then you get to pick your next command."

"I'm not sure it works that way, Dear," Urbe smiled.  "But it's food for thought."


*****


On a pier looking out at the assembled naval vessels, a lone figure sat on a spool of cable, carefully sketching a grey seabird as it preened its feathers on a post down the ways.  Marynarz Weiss thought it was most likely a European shag, but his book suggested that Amsterdam was outside its usual range.  That didn't make it impossible, but it did imply this particular bird was a different kind of cormorant.

Getting the beak right was the challenge of the moment.  It was slender and grey, and he wasn't certain from this distance if it narrowed in the middle or if it was a trick of the light. 

"You off the ships there?" a longshoreman called out from behind him.

The bird paused to look their way, then continued cleaning itself.  "Yes sir," Weiss nodded.

"Heard you went around the world," the man said.

"That's true."

"What was it like?"

Weiss considered the question, then glanced at his sketchpad.  "Well, I got to see a lot of birds..."

[The Rock Doctor]

1 January 1923:  Hamburg

The armored cruiser Straznik is laid down in Voss und Blohm's 250m drydock.  It's the largest ship ordered from the yard in quite a while - the recent Czarownik class cruisers and Encke class battleships, all displacing about 39,000 tonnes, have been ordered from Gdansk and Stockholm.  By contrast, the largest ship built at Voss und Blohm last year was a 3,000 t oiler.

So the keel-laying ceremony really lays it on thick in terms of Hamburg hospitality.  The mayor speaks, the head of the chamber of commerce speaks, there's a prayer or two, a schoolchildren's choir, a big indoor reception with hot beverages and a buffet.  No interpretative dance or so-called industrial musical performance, thankfully.  Nobody who heard the industrial music at the Trans Erica Canal opening has let anybody else forget about it, ever.

And of course the usual dignitaries are there as well, such as the King, Prime Minister, Defence Minister, and Grand Admiral Zahle.  The King is wearing a cast on his right leg, having taken a tumble on the slopes while skiing before Christmas, but delivers a fairly boilerplate speech about the importance of the navy in these trying times and the critical role that Straznik will play in binding the Union of Unions together in the coming years and decades.

While local papers are keen to talk about jobs, contracts, and economic spin-offs, national papers note that, unless something's changed, the Union will only order one sister ship next year.  One of Stockholm and Gdansk will get that contract, leaving the other one without a new capital ship to work on.  That seems politically risky, unless something else is in the cards.

Meanwhile, in Oulu

The Union's northernmost shipbuilding facility, Oulu Maritime Inc., has just one 50m drydock, and its climate would not seem conducive to shipbuilding, yet the yard has always been busy building something small for the Navy.  It's a small yard, but the workers are hardy and motivated to do as good a job, or better, as those softies on the south coast of the Baltic.

Motor torpedo-boats and submarine chasers have been the usual fare these past years, but now the yard has a contract for a small run of coastal/riverine icebreakers.  Most will see service along the coast and the inland waterways, but there's speculation that one might find its way across the Atlantic to support seasonal operations in North Erica's Pawtomeck Estuary.

The turnout at Oulu is...fairly sparse compared to the shindig at Hamburg, but a retired icebreaker captain delivers a nice speech about the under-rated and unappreciated men who keep the ships moving in winter. 

Meanwhile, in Widoknagory

The laying down of the Pulkownik Piotr Kaminski is something of a watershed moment for Silver Steelworks Inc., the Mayor and council of the city of Widoknagory, and the Governor of Srebrny Rzeki.  Until this moment, the yard's 100m drydock has not received any construction contracts - only a standing offer for maintenance of the Union Navy's local squadron.  But now it's got one.

The Kaminski is a riverine transport, not a warship, and she's only really being built there because her shallow draft would make an Atlantic crossing hazardous and her size precludes loading her aboard a sealift ship for transport that way.  Some of the components, like the guns and the turbines, are being shipped over, partially assembled, from Amsterdam.  Nonetheless, it's a job, and the locals make a pretty big deal of it.  It's not like those hosers in North Erica or the beach bums in the Caribbean or the oilslickers in Africa are getting these sorts of contracts, right?  Well, not yet.

Marginally less exciting, but not overlooked, is the breaking of ground on a new 50m dock that'll enhance the yard's ability to support the small patrol and fast-attack craft stationed at Widoknagory.  A Union government press release notes that other such docks will be constructed in the other major overseas naval stations, but the Widoknagory press doesn't pay much attention to that.