Sandelin sighed. Anglo-German relations were strained at best. At worst, they were highly volatile, and these days they leaned more often towards the latter. Everyone seemed to stop mid-conversation when he enterred the room. They seemed to be afraid to discuss even the weather in his presence. He had little to do but sit around and write lewd letters under pseudonyms.
At least he didn't have to deal with the mess down south. After Prag fell, the fighting seemed to die down of its own accord. Now diplomats were running around trying to establish new economic ties with the nation to the south. The only problem was that no one seemed to know where to go to do it.
The hapsburgs had fled to Trieste, and had tried to set up a new Austrian government there. But the majority of the people in the area were against their rule, and vast areas had fallen under the sway of partisans. They had set up the Republic of Slovenia in Laibach (or was it Ljubljana now?) and even had basic elections. Control of the surrounding region oscillated between the two cities, and the Reichsheer was wary of entangling itself in the mess, especially in winter.
Some had suggested tacking the area onto the newly formed Republic of Czechoslovakia, but that was its own can of worms. The Czechs weren't particularly pleased with the German annexation of the Sudetenland. They'd requested the complete withdrawl of German troops from their territory. The Kaiser had declined. They insisted on keeping the troops there for security concerns. In response, Czech partisans had begun a campaign of sabotage and general defiance. They hadn't quite resorted shooting at eachother, but the potential was there.
Then there was Hungary. It had been occupied for three years now, and the insurgency refused to die down. Sending young German men to die in the hills and woods of a nation that didn't want them there took a bite out of morale. But the partisans were taking their own losses, bit by bit. It still wasn't fast enough.
Depressed, Sandelin sought unlikely comfort in the newspaper. Apparently some Americans had managed to build some kind of flying machine out of canvas. Germany had been working on its own designs for airborne travel, though in an altogether different fasion. Perhaps this Amercan device could amount to something. Reading the specifics, Sandelin doubted it.
He skimmed a few other articles. British and French forces battling in Africa... Continued resistance to Spanish rule in the Philipines... Advances in naval design... nothing new. The world went on, as it always had.
At least he didn't have to deal with the mess down south. After Prag fell, the fighting seemed to die down of its own accord. Now diplomats were running around trying to establish new economic ties with the nation to the south. The only problem was that no one seemed to know where to go to do it.
The hapsburgs had fled to Trieste, and had tried to set up a new Austrian government there. But the majority of the people in the area were against their rule, and vast areas had fallen under the sway of partisans. They had set up the Republic of Slovenia in Laibach (or was it Ljubljana now?) and even had basic elections. Control of the surrounding region oscillated between the two cities, and the Reichsheer was wary of entangling itself in the mess, especially in winter.
Some had suggested tacking the area onto the newly formed Republic of Czechoslovakia, but that was its own can of worms. The Czechs weren't particularly pleased with the German annexation of the Sudetenland. They'd requested the complete withdrawl of German troops from their territory. The Kaiser had declined. They insisted on keeping the troops there for security concerns. In response, Czech partisans had begun a campaign of sabotage and general defiance. They hadn't quite resorted shooting at eachother, but the potential was there.
Then there was Hungary. It had been occupied for three years now, and the insurgency refused to die down. Sending young German men to die in the hills and woods of a nation that didn't want them there took a bite out of morale. But the partisans were taking their own losses, bit by bit. It still wasn't fast enough.
Depressed, Sandelin sought unlikely comfort in the newspaper. Apparently some Americans had managed to build some kind of flying machine out of canvas. Germany had been working on its own designs for airborne travel, though in an altogether different fasion. Perhaps this Amercan device could amount to something. Reading the specifics, Sandelin doubted it.
He skimmed a few other articles. British and French forces battling in Africa... Continued resistance to Spanish rule in the Philipines... Advances in naval design... nothing new. The world went on, as it always had.
The moment they see a submarine or what looks like one, it's like hearing the Jaws theme... there's always a bigger Shark in the water, Britain. 
